by Brian Drake
11
Chicks Dig Scars
AS CAVALLOS and his team reached the test building, he ordered Lenz to take watch outside. Lenz broke off and dropped down a few yards away. Roxana rigged the entrance with a charge and stepped back. The door blew inward with the blast. Cavallos, his wife and Foster entered the dark building.
“Foster,” Cavallos said, “take a window.”
Foster broke off while Cavallos and Roxana ran to the vehicle supporting the Hess DEW.
Roxana shed her pack and opened the top. She handed her husband two blocks of C-4.
Cavallos went to the DEW and began placing the charges, one at the front of the vehicle and the other under the gas tank, which was directly beneath the mounted dish.
Roxana, weapon slung, with two more charges in either hand, placed her bombs at the base of a wall on each side of the building.
“They’re coming!” Foster said. “They got lights!”
Gunfire crackled outside.
“He only has to hold them a few seconds,” Cavallos shouted. He finished wiring the remote blasting cap in place.
“Ready,” Roxana said, returning to Cavallos.
“Same,” he said.
Then Foster smashed the window. “They got Lenz!” He let a string of rounds go, shifting as he fired.
“Doesn’t matter now,” Cavallos said. He raised his M-4 and shot Foster in the back. The man screamed, arching his back as he fell.
Cavallos and Roxana ran out the door where they’d entered. Cavallos held the detonator in his left land.
SOME OF VU’S men wailed from their wounds. Non-wounded dragged them away from the fusillade coming from the building. Then the shooting stopped. Dane watched the man in the window fall, his scream carrying across the night.
“They’re gonna blow the building. Get back!”
As the group retreated, Dane spotted two figures running out the side door. Then he tore off the night-vision goggles. The blast inside the building blew out the remaining windows, orange fire whooshing out. The next two blasts folded in the walls. The roof collapsed. Chunks of debris flashed through the air, landing near Dane, McConn and Vu’s men. The ground shook and the sound of the explosion hammered eardrums into submission.
Dane stood and shouted at McConn to get Vu’s men inside. He went to Lenz’s body and helped himself to the fully-auto M-4 and ammo.
“You can’t go after them alone!” McConn said.
“I’m the only one who can see them!” Dane refitted the night-vision goggles. He ran in the direction he’d seen the departing figures go, holding the captured M-4 close to his chest.
He ran wide around the burning building, the green glow of the night vision flaring as the sensors picked up the increased light from the flames.
The two figures ahead reached the east fence. One started to climb over.
Dane stopped, took aim and fired. The climbing figure rolled over the side and dropped to the ground, falling flat, rolling away. The other fired back. The slugs kicked up dirt and flashed by Dane’s head. He ran, dropped, rolled. Aimed again. The second figure cleared the fence and landed on the other side, Dane’s rounds only driving the figure to cover. One of them threw a grenade over the fence. The explosive orb sailed Dane’s way, arcing down to land a few yards away. Dane covered his head as the blast tore a crater into the earth. Shrapnel nicked at his clothes. Dane jumped up and ran in a zigzag to the fence.
He fired through the chain-link, sweeping left to right. The fence shook and rattled as he climbed. His pants ripped on the barbed wire. He rolled over the top and landed hard. Staying flat, he scanned the tree line. No sign of any movement. He started forward, running from tree to tree. Still nothing. He broke cover for a tree a few feet ahead.
Somebody stepped around that tree and tossed another grenade in a leisurely underhand pitch.
Dane batted the grenade away with the M-4. It flew off to the right, bouncing off another tree to come right back at him. He rolled away as the blast thundered through the night. His left leg burned as shrapnel tore into the flesh, more bits stinging his neck and cracking the side of the night-vision goggles. The image went out. Dane tossed the goggles aside. Footsteps pounded away. Dane fired at random but his slugs connected only with trees or brush.
Dane jumped up, grimacing at the pain flaring through his right leg. He hobbled to a tree and leaned against the trunk. He lifted the M-4 to his shoulder but then lowered the muzzle. The shadows held no further threats.
He pushed on anyway until he cleared the tree line. The open field ahead only confirmed that the quarry had slipped away.
Dane sat against a tree and looked at his leg, plucking out two pieces of the grenade. The shrapnel hadn’t gone deep but sure felt like it had. Grunting, Dane forced himself upright and started the long walk back.
VU AND his remaining men set up a hospital in the front lobby for the wounded. The dead they left outside. Dane sat against a wall as McConn used a first-aid kit to clean and dress Dane’s leg wound.
“Bones heal,” McConn said, “and chicks dig scars.”
“That’s the rumor.”
Another of Vu’s men went for help, and after a while two ambulance crews and a fire truck arrived, the cops not far behind. More fire crews joined the mix and took care of the burning test building. When Hess himself arrived, he examined the scene in shock.
Dane, McConn and Vu gave their statements to police, who eventually talked to the entire security force, too.
They remained there through the night. When the sun came up, Dane and McConn were finally able to leave, their cover intact. Returning to the hotel, Dane took a hot bath, keeping his right leg elevated on the side of the tub. He stared at the wall in a daze for a long time.
Arkady would move against Trent now that his people had destroyed the Hess facility. Dane and McConn had to get back to Texas and fast.
Dane performed an awkward roll out of the tub and lay on the floor to catch his breath. He sat up to dry off and then stood to wipe the water from the floor. As the tub drained, he tied on a robe and stretched out on the bed to call Nina.
“Are you hurt badly?” she said after he finished his update.
“I’ll live. Believe me when I tell you I have a score to settle with your old boss.”
“I believe you,” Nina said, “and you aren’t the only one. Hurry back, darling. I can’t do this alone.”
“Stay out of sight until I get there.”
NINA ENDED the call and let out a deep breath. At least he was okay.
She’d moved to another hotel without incident, and now she looked around the empty room. Forty-eight hours without a drink. Now she felt entitled. Opening the room’s small fridge, she selected a small bottle of Stoli vodka. She sat on the bed and drank it down in two swallows. The vitamins burned down her throat and warmed her tummy. Nothing to do now but wait for Steve. She grabbed a second bottle and turned on the television.
DANE CROSSED into McConn’s room. McConn was on the bed, flipping channels with the remote.
“I booked us a flight for Texas tomorrow afternoon,” Dane said.
“Join up with Nina?”
“And finish this, yes. Get some sleep.”
“You’re not my boss anymore.”
Dane closed the connecting door and climbed into bed. His leg ached but that didn’t keep him from eventually falling asleep. His subconscious would sort out the problems they faced while he dozed.
He showered the next morning, replaced the bandages on his leg, dressed and had breakfast sent up. When the knock came, he answered, only to freeze at the sight of a man holding a gun.
“Please step back, Mr. Dane,” the man said.
Mid-twenties, Dane guessed. He raised his hands and followed directions. The new arrival wore a black suit, which contrasted his pale skin. French accent. At least it wasn’t Russian.
The new arrival entered and held the door. Three others followed him inside. Each man was much older than Dane, wrinkled
faces, age spots and various shades of gray hair indicating their elder status.
One of them said to the Frenchman: “Put the gun away and shut the door.” He complied and stood against the door with his hands cupped in front of him.
“Lower your hands, Mr. Dane.”
“American?”
“All three of us,” said the old man nearest Dane. “We come in peace. We also need to talk about Texas.”
Dane indicated the table, where two of the men sat. The third sat on the edge of the bed.
Dane leaned against the dresser.
The man on the bed spoke.
“You may refer to me as Number One. My associates are Two and Three.”
“Can’t count any higher?”
“I see your wound has not affected your alleged wit,” said Number One. “We call ourselves The Trust. All three of us once worked deep within U.S. intelligence. We have, by the way, several mutual friends, Mr. Dane.”
“Okay.”
“President Cross is one such mutual friend.”
“Sure.”
“We mean no harm.”
“What is this about? You know President Cross, big deal. I worked for the man. Did you?”
“He worked for me.”
“This keeps getting better.”
“Mr. Dane, I don’t have to explain to you the danger the world faces, from a variety of threats and psychopaths who want nothing more than to cause as much chaos as possible.
“The official means of combating these threats are mired in politics, backroom deals, second-guessing and red tape. You know this. My associates and I decided to use our skills and connections to face those threats head-on. We gather information and send freelancers from all walks of life to deal with the problems.”
“I’m starting to get the picture,” Dane said.
“You met our operative, John Blaze, in Monaco,” said Number One. “He was tasked with stealing Mr. Trent’s papers before Arkady saw them.”
“Thanks for clearing up that plot point, but what does that have to do with me?”
“We knew you were there, you and Miss Talikova, and we assumed rightly that your nature wouldn’t allow you to turn away. We have kept an eye on you to see how far you’d get.”
“I’m sorry to say it hasn’t been very far at all.”
“No, but Mr. Hess is a resourceful man. He will bounce back. Arkady destroyed the machine, not the man who made it.”
“Does that mean Hess is in danger?”
“Arkady doesn’t have the time, and even Hess’s death wouldn’t stop the rebuilding. For better or worse, direct-energy weapons are here to stay.”
“What do you want from me?”
“What do you think we want?”
“I know you didn’t come here to ask me to stop,” Dane said.
“Of course not. We have a gap in our workforce, and I’d like you and Miss Talikova to fill it.”
“We do fine on our own. The last time I worked for people like you, it didn’t turn out so well.”
“We will not assault your autonomy,” said the old man. “We want you to finish what you’ve started. We offer aid, information and payment. In exchange, you become our operative. In the future, we will call you and ask you to do a job. That’s the deal.”
“Not interested.”
“Of course you aren’t.”
Dane folded his arms. “I can’t wait to see what you say next.”
“What do you see when you look in the mirror, Mr. Dane?”
“A face that’s getting older.”
“And?”
“If you know as much as you say, I don’t have to tell you.”
“Indeed. On many occasions you have said you want to know who sabotaged your helicopter and almost killed you. What if I could help arrange a meeting?”
Dane frowned. “Tell me more.”
“Two events prompted your departure from the U.S. and set you on the path you are now on. Your father’s suicide and the crash, correct?”
Dane didn’t answer. His expression hardened and he made a fist with his right hand.
“Your father was accused of treason after he died,” Number One said. “The very people you sacrificed so much for began to suspect you, too. They kept that on the QT, of course. But you knew.”
“Get to the point.”
“Mr. Dane, your father was murdered, and the same people tried to kill you. When that failed, they tried to discredit you, but your departure helped them. You were out of the way. They moved forward without further meddling from the Dane family.”
“So my father was—”
“Investigating CIA corruption, Mr. Dane.”
Dane’s shoulders sagged.
“Ever since, you and President Cross have been trying to find proof that your father was innocent of treason, but you’ve been looking in the wrong places.”
“If I join you, you’ll provide the clues I need?”
“Exactly. Change your mind?”
“I think I need a drink.”
“Not on the job, Mr. Dane.” Number One laughed. “Do we have an agreement?”
“Yes,” Dane said. “Assuming I survive Texas, we have an agreement.”
“Oh, you’ll survive. You have a new reason to.”
“What else should I know about Arkady?”
Number One glanced over at Number Three. “That’s your cue.”
Number Three leaned forward. “Arkady plans to steal Trent’s weapon and get it out of the U.S. via ship. That ship is currently twenty-four hours away from the rendezvous point off the Texas coast. The weapon cannot get on that ship, Mr. Dane.”
“How does he plan to move the weapon? He certainly can’t drive it.”
“Roxana Cavallos is a helicopter pilot,” said Number Three. “We assume they will use a chopper.”
“Were she and her husband at the Hess place last night?”
“They were.”
“Too bad I didn’t kill them then.”
Number One said, “Perfection eludes all of us, Mr. Dane. We keep trying.”
“Who is your source?” Dane said.
“Somebody deep inside the Kremlin,” said Number One. “The growing issues with Russia demand a return to, shall we say, the practices of days we thought were long behind us.”
“And peace eludes us, too.”
“Right you are, but maybe we can prevent another war.”
“I have a plane to catch.”
“And breakfast waiting,” said Number One as he rose. “We made the poor fellow wait outside. Enjoy your meal, Mr. Dane. We were never here.”
The Frenchman opened the door, and the three old men left. The door remained open after the Frenchman departed, and the room service waiter wheeled in the cart with breakfast for two. The waiter said it might be a little cold but Dane didn’t mind. He tipped the waiter well and apologized for making him wait in the hallway. After the waiter departed, he went next door to wake up McConn.
Dane told his friend about the meeting as they ate.
“Think they’re on the level?”
“They’d better be,” Dane said, “or I’ll kill all three of them.”
DANE, IN the window seat on the flight to Texas, thought about the three old men as he stared at the blue sky.
He had a suspect in mind for the helicopter sabotage that had left him scarred for life, and he covered those scars to hide the deeper ones within.
Like his father, Dane had been an eager patriot with a desire to serve his country, and he’d never believed for one second that his father had lived a lie. His suspect’s position in the government, as well as his standing, prevented Dane from moving on him without risking prison. He was no good to his father’s ghost behind bars. And who pulled the strings behind Dane’s suspect? How deep did the corruption described by The Trust go?
If the old men could deliver their promised support, Dane would have muscle equal to his suspect’s and that of any cronies behind him.
> If he could expose the truth, he’d finally have the justice he craved.
And his gut told him The Trust was right.
Dane would soon deliver a long overdue reckoning, and the idea filled him with new energy and purpose. The enemy had tried to kill the wrong man.
Yet he’d played into their hands by running away. He had to forgive himself for that. There had been too much he didn’t know. But he knew now. He let out a breath and signaled a passing flight attendant for a drink.
DANE rose from his seat, crossing in front of McConn and another passenger. He walked up the aisle to the lavatory and locked the door. He pressed one button on his cell phone and speed-dialed the president of the United States, Peter Cross.
An aid answered. “Yes?”
“It’s Dane. Is he available?”
“One moment.”
Cross came on the line. “Steve?”
“Good time?”
“I’m alone in the office, yes.”
“Sir, I’ve just spoken with an old man who says he knows you.”
“Calls himself Number One?”
“Exactly.”
“Trust him, Steve.”
“He told me some things about my father.” Dane related the details of the conversation, leaving nothing out, including his current efforts.
Cross remained silent for a moment once Dane had finished.
“Are you there, sir?”
“I can’t believe it. It’s nothing like we’ve thought.”
“We’ll know everything soon.”
“I’ll help all I can. Even now, whatever you need.”
“It’s better if I work on my own. I don’t know who we can trust.”
“Okay. But, Steve—”
“I’m aware of the consequences.”
“You always are.”
“Do you still light a candle for me, sir?”
“Every Sunday, without fail.”
“Start lighting two. It’s going to get bloody.”
12
Harder Than It Looks
NINA MET Dane and McConn at the airport wearing a thick and curly blonde wig.