Covert Ops

by T. R. Cameron

  “So, he’s ripe for payoffs and blackmail?”

  “Actually not, according to everything I’ve dug up. He has money and a plan to acquire more of it. His family life is stable, so he doesn’t worry about alimony, child support, and that kind of thing. No, I don’t think he’s likely to be influenced by outside sources. He has the extreme self-confidence that major wealth can bring. Probably, if someone tried it, he’d laugh at them. Unless, of course, what they wanted was already in line with his plans.”

  “Okay. So, next on the ladder of evil?”

  “Janet Cyphret.”

  Her mouth dropped open. “You’re kidding me.”

  Deacon grinned. “That’s exactly the reaction I expected you to have.”

  Kayleigh pointed the corner of her toast at him. “You’re messing with me now. I’ve seen the woman on television. Neutral evil at best but probably chaotic evil. I can’t even picture how someone could be worse.”

  “We’ll get to that. Anyway, she’s downright anti-ARES, as you know. I went looking for the reasons behind it and had to dig deep. It turns out that she had a brother who was in the FBI but he was kicked out. The sealed files I was able to crack suggest he was generally a good agent who occasionally crossed the line and took things that lay around whenever they made a collar.”

  “That doesn’t seem like a reason to hate ARES.”

  “On one occasion, he did it in the office of a lawyer they were collecting for questioning. He discovered a book of some kind that listed a group of people taking bribes.”

  “And the means by which he acquired it blew the prosecution?”

  “Worse. He apparently decided to go vigilante and used the information as a way to pit the criminals against each other. All this led to a significant number of injuries and several deaths. Eventually, one of the jerks on the list was apprehended by a different agency, and the whole thing came out.”

  Kayleigh shook her head. She was sympathetic to the concept but not to the manner in which it had been handled. She’d have taken the book to Diana with a plan instead of going it alone. “Ouch.”

  “Yeah. He was drummed out and more or less blacklisted, then went to Afghanistan with one of the large security contractors.” She felt it coming before he said it, and her stomach dropped. “He died there—an IED.”

  She sighed. “So, she has a strong reason to hate the FBI and anyone even remotely associated with them. Like ARES. Okay, I can see where that might give her the slightest justification for being an obstructionist wench if you look at it through her eyes.”

  He nodded. “Right. Exactly.”

  She straightened and braced herself for more bad news. “And the cream of the crop?”

  “Zachariah Clarke, Senior Senator from North Dakota.”

  “North freaking Dakota? Seriously?”

  “Seriously. Okay, get this. Zachariah has made a name for himself as an upright, religious man which plays well to the more traditional members of his populace. He has a stay-at-home wife, three sons who are all working their way up various corporate ladders, and teaches Sunday School when he’s in his hometown.”

  “He seems a decent sort so far.”

  “And that’s basically how everyone sees him. The media like him because he’s willing to comment on any issue at all. His party likes him because he is always there with a proper vote on the big issues. But the other party likes him too because he’s centrist and willing to work with them on anything that’s not a hard no for the people in his state as long as it’s not a top-shelf issue. He’s even refused pork-barrel giveaways to North Dakota.”

  “Okay. So, I still don’t hear evil here. Neutral good, maybe, or lawful neutral at the worst.”

  “It turns out he’s owned by someone in the Chinese government. Apparently, he did very bad things on a trip there. I was able to crack his phone, and that’s how they contact him. It took some serious digging and a not fully authorized dip into the NSA databases that I will forever deny, but I traced it back to their intelligence service. He has shared considerable information with them.”

  Kayleigh was stunned at the news. It didn’t make sense. “About ARES?”

  He shook his head. “About everything. Literally, every single thing he knows goes to them.”

  “Dang. They have to have some really valuable information on him.”

  “Honestly, I can’t even imagine. His life must be a hell of cognitive dissonance, playing the good guy while he knows he’s the villain.”

  She frowned. “I don’t see why that makes him a problem on the committee.”

  Deacon sighed. “That’s the worst part. I only saw one reference so I can’t call it definitive, and I haven’t been able to find another source. But hidden in one of the communications was an instruction for communicating directly with a person named Dreven. That wasn’t a big deal in itself. But when I searched for that in his phone, I discovered contact info for someone we know—Nehlan.”

  Her anger spiked. “The bastard who kidnapped Diana’s friend.”

  He nodded. “Good old Zachariah had fed him secrets for months before that based on the timestamps on what I found.”

  Kayleigh drummed her fingers on the table. “Is it enough to burn him?”

  Deacon shook his head. “No way. I’m sure they have a failsafe to destroy the phone, which means the evidence trail is gone. It’s only there at all because he knows nothing about actual information security.”

  “So, basically, we have a traitor on our hands whom we can’t get rid of easily.” She drummed her fingers on the table again, then snapped them. “Can we spoof him? Turn him into our tool?”

  He grinned. “Now you’re talking. Maybe, although that’s a two-way play—or three-way, if you include needing to keep the Remembrance folks buying in as well as China. It’s certainly worth looking at, though. The bigger question at the moment is do we share this with Diana? Or with her boss?”

  She shook her head. “They both have enough going on right now. Let’s watch, listen, and see if we can worm ourselves in deeper.”

  He raised a coy eyebrow at her. “I like how you think.”

  The tech rewarded the notably bad effort at flirting by firing her cloth napkin into his face. “As a reward for being the least cool person ever, you get to pay the bill.” He laughed as she walked away. If there was a little extra sway in her hips as she did it, well, there was no harm in showing him what skilled teasing looked like.

  Chapter Twenty

  Murray’s shining truck pulled up alongside the curb near the bar that used to be their hangout, and Sloan yanked its heavy passenger door open. A hop, slide, and slam later, they were in motion again. He had no idea where they were headed, only that Mur had said, “Pick you up in an hour,” and he had obeyed, as always.

  Frankly, being Tommy Ketchum is now a little annoying. If he were one of my underlings, I probably would have offed him by now. Thinking of his alias in the third person helped Sloan keep a proper perspective on things, but he tried not to do it too often. He’d heard stories during training from retired undercover agents who cautioned against being too into character or too out of character. The right balance was key, they’d insisted, to avoid the pitfalls that lay on both sides of that thin, thin line.

  He’d not given it much credence at the time, but after years in the field, he’d personally confirmed that every word the retirees had said was true. His magic gave him an edge, but it was haphazard enough that he didn’t feel comfortable enough to rely on it. He blinked and brought himself back to the present moment. As casually as possible, he looked at the other man, who continued to dress well and seemed more comfortable in his new role with each passing day.

  Marcus’s return no doubt had something to do with that. Murray was not the kind of man who fared well without consistent leadership but was in his element as a middle manager. The radio played softly in the background—some mashup of hip-hop and country about a horse and a road—and he raised his voice to
talk over it. “Where are we off to this fine day?” It wasn’t an exaggeration, as Pittsburgh was experiencing one of its rare not-a-cloud-in-the-sky moments.

  Mur spun the wheel to turn right, then immediately reversed it in a turn to the left that took them into one of the city’s many tunnels. This one was shorter than the others and led to a bridge. They crossed it and turned onto the south side’s main road before his boss responded. “Marcus wants to see us.”

  “Both of us, specifically?” He made sure the proper note of concern was present in the question.

  The other man chuckled. “Well, me, anyway. But unless someone tells me not to include you, I like having you with me. You see things differently than I do sometimes, and that might be important when dealing with the big guy.” He paused and continued in a more somber tone. “I believe in Marcus and in the plans he has for the group. But the dude was in the hardest prison around, lost his damn arm and the leader he followed, and came back as some kind of part-machine. That’s gotta take a toll. So, I think the more of us that look out for him, the better.”

  Sloan nodded. “You know I’m in. Whatever it takes.”

  Mur turned to smile at him. “You’re a good man, Ketch. I’m glad Teddy brought you into the group.” There was a moment of shared silence for their friend, who had fallen during the stadium battle in Philadelphia. It was one of the reasons Murray had a personal chip on his shoulder where Sarah, the lead witch, was concerned, in addition to the palpable dislike that Marcus had for the woman. She’d let too many people die for minimal gain on that operation.

  They pulled off the main road and into a narrow, one-way street with closely packed houses on both sides. In the older neighborhoods, they’d built up and back instead of sideways, which always looked weird to him. This place has personality. He laughed fondly inside. Most of it weird.

  Mur stopped the truck outside a home that was indistinguishable from the rest. The front door opened as they approached, and a member of the gang that Sloan recognized waved them forward. The pistol on his hip was expected, but the sawed-off shotgun in the hand he’d hidden behind the door wasn’t. Interesting. Apparently, Marcus feels the need for protection. The man tilted his chin toward the stairs leading to the basement, and they descended without exchanging words.

  The staircase turned to the left halfway down, and another armed guard was seated at the bottom, facing any traffic that might come down them. He stood to intercept but returned to his seat at a calm, “Let them through,” from Marcus. The gang’s leader sat in the middle of the room at a high square pub table with a laptop in front of him. He nodded at the chair beside him, and Murray took it, leaving Sloan to climb onto the next one across from the boss, who clicked a few more times and closed the machine.

  He met both their gazes in turn with a nod and a small smile. “Gentlemen. Thank you for coming.”

  Mur’s answer was quicker. “Sure, boss.”

  Sloan followed with “No problem, sir.” Gotta remember, Tommy Ketchum is intimidated by this guy and will try to look good. He straightened and locked his gaze on Marcus.

  There was the slightest of mechanical whirs as the man raised his left arm and scratched his face with it, but nothing that would have carried beyond a few feet. The agent would give a lot to know the details about and the origins of the limb, but all he had were rumors and guesses, each more ludicrous than the last. It was a hot topic for drunken conversations among the gang members.

  Their boss put his elbows on the table and steepled his fingers. “Some things have come to my attention that will be good for us. And I need you two to take care of a few things. Murray, because I trust you. Tommy, because he thinks highly enough of you to have brought you today. You’ll probably need a couple more. It’ll be dangerous.”

  Marcus shook his head. “I’m getting ahead of myself. I do that sometimes when I’m excited, and damn.” He slapped his hands down on the table with a grin. “I. Am. Excited. It’s time to give that witch the reward she’s so rightly earned. And it starts right here, right now.” He held his index finger up. “First, Sarah got demoted. That had to hurt, and it was a damn pleasure to watch. She didn’t let on, of course, but unless she lost all her emotions somehow, she’s pissed.” He held up a second finger. “However, the fact that Dreven says she’s not the leader doesn’t really mean she’s not the leader since he’s not actually here to enforce it. Her power base is still what it was. That’s unchanged. Words don’t make a thing so, you know?”

  They nodded and he continued as he raised a third finger. “He also said that I’m the equal of Sarah, but if you look around, it doesn’t seem like that, does it? To an outsider walking into the warehouse for the first time, who would be the magical leader with the same power as me?”

  Mur, with reluctance in his tone, voiced a response. “Wysse. The one she put in charge.”

  His leader pointed all three extended fingers at him. “Exactly. Now, let’s examine a few other pieces of important knowledge.” He set the hand with the raised fingers on the table and used the other one with the index finger raised. “First, we have a clear enemy in this town, and they’re trying to find and eliminate us. We’ve seen them a few times, so we know what kind of gear they carry, which is a very useful piece of information to have.”

  He raised another finger. “Second, my people have discovered that there are listening devices planted in the warehouse.” Ice shot through Sloan, but his professional experience served to keep his face locked and immobile while the internal spasm passed. How the hell did they find them? That is not good. He turned to look at Murray, who reacted appropriately.

  Mur sputtered as he spoke and anger overwhelmed him. “Are you saying Sarah is listening to us? Do we need to take precautions like throw our phones away or something?” The undercover agent nodded because he imagined Tommy Ketchum would.

  Marcus shook his head. “I’m having them looked at, but the technology is good and you’d think the witch would use magic. No, my guess is that the aforementioned enemy has discovered where we gather. It wouldn’t be too hard to find out since we’ve been there for months. Fortunately, the important conversations usually don’t happen downstairs, and it would be much harder for them to put the things in the office.”

  Sloan kept his voice neutral. “Have you told her to check it out?”

  The man grinned and shook his head as he lowered his hand. “No, my friend. When you add all those parts together, do you know what it equals? It equals opportunity. And I’ll need you two when I make the first move.”

  Murray still sounded angry. “Tell us what you need, boss.”

  “Three things, all in a row. We’ll kick it off by killing the pet witch and reminding Sarah that she’s not the boss of everyone. With Wysse gone, she’ll have to either take that position again for herself—making her equal to me—or appoint someone else. If she chooses the first option, it’ll make her seem weak. If she chooses the second, I’ll play tattletale to Dreven and he’ll probably force her to take it. Either way, we win that round.”

  His smile widened. “Second, we’ll make the attack look like it came from the people hunting us. We’ll have a third party whip up identical gear and wear it to destroy the witch. That’ll push the suspicion off us and make Sarah and Dreven focus on them, which will keep them on their toes.”

  Sloan’s concern—which had risen steadily since the revelation of the discovery of the bugs—reached its peak as the man said his next words, ones he’d feared would come.

  “And then, I’ll reveal the existence of the listening devices. That should be the straw that sets Sarah off. We’ll point her at the group that’s hunting us and let them fight it out. We’ll either help her or abandon her, depending on what looks like the most useful choice at the time. And once it’s over, she’ll be broken and back down the ranks and I’ll be the one in charge.”

  He raised his mechanical hand and suddenly, it transformed and reshaped into a wicked-looking blade. �
�Or, if necessary, we’ll kill her and deal with her replacement.” He smiled at Murray and Sloan. “Either way, we win, and all the rest lose.”

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Diana was hiding out in the fifth-floor conference room, as she had taken to doing when she needed space to think while at the headquarters building. More agents and a second tech had stolen most of her other sanctuaries. Now and again, she sat in the lobby and watched the freelancers and other coworking clients wander through from behind the anonymity of her illusion necklace. Sometimes, she simply wanted to feel like she wasn’t the epicenter of everything.

  Her inner voice snorted at her. “Arrogant, much? May I get you some cheese with that whine?”

  Shut up.

  “Wait, I have another one. I’ll call you Copernicus from now on since you’re clearly the center of the universe.”

  I swear to heaven I will see a therapist or a surgeon or something and have you excised from my brain if you do not shut the hell up. It cackled at her as it faded, and she heaved a sigh. Sadly, as usual, mental Diana is closer to right than to wrong.

  She had been a little too trapped in her head lately. Call it fallout from the fight at the Core, or a reaction to Taggart, or getting to spend less time with Rath and Lisa, or even—ewww—missing Bryant, she’d let self-pity gain a foothold. She sipped her coffee slowly, which she’d brewed extra strong and extra bitter. Well, that shit stops now.

  Her phone buzzed, and her glasses displayed Bryant’s face—the goofy picture of him from his official ARES file. She grinned and said, “Accept,” and the device connected to her comms. “Hello, Bryant. How’s the weather?”

  He laughed. “Who the hell knows? I’m indoors like twenty-four-seven.”

  “Any news about Carson?” She couldn’t keep the hope out of her voice, but at least it was actually hope talking, not fear pretending to be something more positive.