Sally carefully makes her way through the crowd. Nervously, she scans each stall, each person, ready to draw her gun. She was a fool to accept this mission. How could she ever think of going head to head with the legend? Suddenly Sally freezes. A lump forms in her throat, cold sweat forms on her face. Victor is standing a few stalls down away from her, looking directly at her. Sally cannot move, she wants to, wants to take the shot, but her body doesn’t respond. She locks eyes with Victor’s piercing blue eyes, she knows that look. She saw it before when she trained under him, unemotional, he is ready to kill.
Suddenly Victor jumps forward and quickly disappears between some rugs. Stupid, she had him. She could have gotten him, why did she not take the shot? Cautiously Sally follows, pushing rugs out of her way with her left hand. This is an ambush, no doubt about it. Sally draws her pistol, ready to act.
The lama hair rug is soft in her hand as she pushes it out of the way. Sally jumps from shock. The right shoulder of a jacket like Victor’s disappears behind a rug. This is your shot, take it, what are you waiting for? The pistol in her hand rocks as it spews out hot lead at Victor, five times, a perfect grouping where she judges his body to be behind the rug. Did she get him? Is he dead? The gun shakes in her hand, her knees unwilling to move forward. You have to go look Sally. You have to make sure he is dead.
Carefully she moves forward until she is at the rug she shot through. She swallows, or tries to, her mouth dry from fear. The rug is long, hanging down to the ground. A pair of legs is visible behind the rug, lying on the ground. You got him Sally, you got him, well done. Now, a bullet in the back of the head for security, you taught me well Victor. First time in the field and she got the master.
Shakingly her left hand reaches out and grabs the soft rug, pulling it slowly away. Victor is lying face down on the ground, five holes in the back of the jacket. A rug covers his lower body, and his head is covered with a baseball cap. Victor must have grabbed onto the rug as he fell down, pulling it from its railing. Sally looks around as she steps over Victor’s body. No one has seen anything, or heard the soft whisper of the silenced pistol, she is alone.
Slowly she bends down, pistol ready, and lifts the cap from Victor’s head. No! It cannot be. Sally’s throat closes up from fear as she stares at the back of a mannequin’s head. You have been fooled, the master caught you out. A strong arm encircles her from the left, and covers her mouth, smothering her scream. It burns as the knife bites into her flesh, slicing through her throat from left to right. Sally chokes on the blood running down her throat, and fear grips her as death patiently waits for her. No, it cannot be. Desperately she tries to free herself, it is futile. Blood spurts from her cut neck arteries on every heartbeat, staining her clothes. Three heartbeats, then a sharp pain as a knife pierces her heart, ending her life.
Even as her heart stops, her brain still functions. Gently Sally slides to the ground as Victor lets her go. She tries to breathe, but cannot. She is drowning, on her own blood. Victor bends down and looks directly into her fading eyes. His touch is soft and compassionate, how strange.
“I am sorry, but you should have left me alone.”
Darkness takes Sally. Victor wraps the scarf around Sally’s neck to stop her from bleeding all over the road as she lets out her last breath, which comes out as a gargle. He closes her eyes and puts her in a sitting position against one of the poles holding up a rug. Quickly he searches her body and finds her wallet, pistol with two spare magazines and a cell phone. Taking his jacket off the mannequin, Victor wraps the items in it, and then walks to a nearby stall where he buys a small backpack and places the jacket inside. Now to Find Laura and get out of this place before the bodies are found.
Victor has a concerned expression on his face as he approaches Laura. She puts her drink down and stares at him for a second before asking. “You okay?”
“They have found us. The agency had two operatives waiting in town.”
“The couple in the restaurant?”
“Yes.”
“You killed them?”
“Yes, come we have to go.”
Laura’s heart sinks from sadness. They looked like such a nice couple. All the people Victor had killed since she met him were men, bad men, until now.
“Why?”
“Why what Laura?”
“Why did you kill her?” Laura’s voice is filled with sadness.
“If I did not, she would have killed me, and then you.”
“How do you know that, you don’t know her. Maybe she would have given up if you scared her.”
“No, she would not. I trained her. I trained all of the people that are after us.” Victor’s voice is soft. Pain fills his heart. He is killing his family, the people he trusted, who he would have died for, all of them, one by one. Has he become the monster himself now?
Laura’s touch is soft as she takes his hand. Slowly he turns to look at her. Her face is full of sympathy.
“I am sorry. It must be hard for you, your friends. I know you did what you needed to do.”
Victor only nods, and then starts to walk towards a small office labeled Inca Railway.
“Hi, two tickets to Machu Picchu please.”
“From Cusco?” The clerk asks with a friendly smile.
“No, from Ollantaytambo.”
“Passports please.”
Victor takes his passport out of his pocket and turns to Laura, who has hers already in her hand. He hands both to the clerk, who enters their information into the system without even checking if the pictures in the passports match them.
“One way or return?” The clerk asks without looking up.
“Return, tomorrow evening, last train please.”
“That will be US$220 please.”
Victor hands over the money and waits for her to print the receipt. She enters some more information into the system, and the printer next to her computer comes alive. With a smile she hands the passports and tickets to Victor then comments. “Have a nice trip.”
“Thank you, have a nice day.”
Walking away from the office, Victor leads Laura to a row of taxies waiting in the main road.
“?Habla Ingles?” Victor asks the first driver he reaches, who shakes his head.
“I speak English, where do you want to go?”
Victor turns to his right and eyes the man up and down. Average build, mid-50’s, with informal but clean clothes and dark black hair. The man strokes a short beard that fails to hide a deep cut on his chin.
“Ollantaytambo”, Victor replies.
“Two people?”
“Yes, how much?”
“US$100.” It is far more than the normal price, but haggling over a few pennies may cost them their lives. They need to get out of Cusco as soon as possible. Where there is one assassin team, there may be two.
“Deal, name’s John, this is Sue.”
“Name’s Amado, good to meet you. Any luggage?”
“Just the backpacks, a day visit only.”
Amado looks them up and down. Who goes to Machu Picchu with only two small backpacks? Tourists, never fail to amaze me. Shrugging his shoulders, he walks towards his car while commenting, “Follow me please.”
Amado’s car is a white Toyota Yaris. He opens the back doors for them, then waits for Victor and Laura to climb in. Politely, he closes the doors for them, and gets into the driver’s seat. Amado pulls away, while reaching over and switching the radio on. A pleasant local instrumental music fills the car. Victor lies back into his seat and closes his eyes. It will take them one and a half hours to reach their destination. Laura elects to watch the scenery, peppering Amado with questions about Peru, Machu Picchu and local customs. She is delighted to find that Amado is extremely wise and loves to talk, and she thoroughly enjoys the ride.
Chapter 2
“Everyone with security clearance five and lower, out of the room now!”
Norman waits impatiently as most of the 20 staff clear the room. He is
the owner of Special Operations Incorporated, a privately owned company that runs covert and black operations for anyone with the right money, but mostly for the US, French, UK and South African governments. The same company Victor used to work for until he left them the previous year to work for himself.
“We have a level three threat, on screen.”
The six people left in the room turn their attention to the 100-inch plasma monitor on the wall, where a picture of Victor is brought up.
“Victor was spotted 30 minutes ago in Cusco, Peru at a restaurant. Two agents on the scene, Noel and Sally were to intercept Victor. However, we lost contact with both. We are assuming they are no longer operational until proven otherwise.
“Victor was one of us, but went solo. He took a mission from one of our oldest clients, having worked for them when he was with us. The client also hired us as backup in case Victor fails.”
“Who was the client?” Ida looks at Norman as she speaks. Other than Norman, she is the most senior person in the room.
“You do not need to know that.” Norman responds, giving her an annoyed look for interrupting him.
“What you do need to know, is that he turned, took an item he was supposed to retrieve for the client and disappeared for a month. This is the first time contact has been made, and already two agents are missing.” Norman decides not to inform them that Victor offered to return the scrolls, as he wants Victor dead for personal reasons.
“You are to hack into every airline, train and bus service in Peru and cross check every passenger’s details and find him. We have a third agent en route. Any information you need to know is now being sent to your terminals. Any questions?”
They all shake their heads and start working on their computers.
Norman paces the room, walking from one staff member to the next, looking over their shoulders to see what they are doing.
“Come on people, what is taking so long? It is not like these hotels and websites have high end security.” Norman is getting annoyed; it has been half an hour since they started looking for Victor.
“I think I’ve found something.” Eleanor holds up her hand as she speaks.
“You think. You do not get paid to think, you get paid to know.” Eleanor wants to respond with a sarcastic comment, but decides that Norman is already in a bad enough mood, and replies instead with. “Two Americans, John and Sue Smith have just booked return train tickets to Machu Picchu.”
“And your point is?”
“The passports are fake. They do not exist in the US passport database.”
“What the hell are they doing, going on holiday? Send the details to the agent. Keep looking for hotel reservations.”
Eleanor eagerly waits for Norman. This is a good lead; maybe he will praise me for it. Her heart sinks as she realizes that she is not going to get it.
***
An hour and three quarters after leaving Cusco, Amado pulls into the plaza at Ollantaytambo, having made one stop to fill up the car with gas on the way. Victor thanks him and after paying Amado joins Laura at a shop where she is buying water for them. Many of the buildings are hundreds of years old, and add to the historic feel of the town. Some of the newer buildings that were built to accommodate the added demand created by the increase in tourists also follow old building styles.
The town is surrounded by mountains, some so high that their tops are covered in snow. The main plaza is surrounded by shops and apart from the road they came in from, only one other road leads out of it. Victor guides Laura through the plaza, following the second road out. As they walk, they pass a steel bridge leading to a market and some ruins up the mountain.
“I did not know there are ruins here.” Laura comments, being in awe at the mountain opposite them covered in terraces and ruins.
“Not many people do. We can have a look at them on our return. We need to go, our train leaves in 30 minutes.”
They continue down the path, walking next to the river, and pass a number of shops, restaurants and hotels until they come to a metal security gate at the end. The train platform is behind the gate, which two armed guards control access to. Four armed police patrol the street, due to the Peruvian government taking protecting tourists from pickpockets very seriously.
After showing one of the guards their train tickets and passports, they are allowed in, and walk right next to the train tracks to the departure lounge.
“Ticket please sir.”
“I do not have one, I just want to say goodbye to my friends.”
“I am sorry sir, you cannot enter.” Victor stops and turns around to see who the tourist is that tries to enter without a ticket, and follows the conversation.
“Please, I missed them at the airport, can I just have five minutes to say good bye.”
“Sorry sir, passengers only.”
“But I will only be five…..”
“Sir, step back from the gate please, you can purchase a ticket at the ticket booth if you want to enter.” The guard cuts the man off, having dealt with people trying to get a free ride to the ruins before, and judging from the large worn-out backpack on the man’s back, he is probably a cheapo trying to take a chance on getting a free ride. The man nods, then looks past the guard, directly at Victor, who locks eyes with the man.
The man does not look familiar, but something is odd about him. Every muscle in Victor’s body goes tense as the man slides his hand under his jacket.
Quickly Victor slings his backpack around and opens the side pocket, grabbing the pistol inside the bag, ready to pull it out if needs be. Is this man going to have a shootout right here? A police officer walks over to the man and places his hand on the man’s shoulder.
Slowly, the man removes his wallet, and Victor relaxes. The man turns to the guard and takes out some money, holding it out to the guard.
“Okay, I will purchase a ticket; I just want to see my friends.” The man answers.
“You have to purchase tickets at the ticket office over there sir.” The guard replies less sternly, while pointing towards the train ticket booth.
Hugh looks in the direction the guard is pointing. Ah no, the ticket office is closing. Without a word, Hugh turns and runs to the ticket office.
“I need a train ticket to Machu Picchu,” Hugh says as he stops the clerk from pulling down the shutter to the ticket booth.
“Apology sir, no more tickets, all sold out. Come back tomorrow.”
“What! You must be joking,” Hugh angrily replies.
“No sir, that is the last train and all tickets are sold. We open at five tomorrow morning, and the first train is at 5:15. Please come back tomorrow.” The clerk replies in her broken English with a friendly smile.
Hugh clenches his jaw as he holds back from swearing at the woman. The veins on his forehead bulge as he grabs his backpack. With fire in his step he walks towards a hotel across the road. A night in town it is then. Tomorrow Victor, tomorrow your life will end.
Victor turns and joins Laura as she is waiting in line, having watched the man enter a hotel.
“Everything okay Victor?”
“All good.”
Laura puts her left arm around him and snuggles up tightly against Victor, who lowers his head until it rests on hers. After a few minutes, they board the train. The train is fitted with comfortable beige leather seats, arranged in groups of four, with a table in the middle of each group. Laura takes the window seat, and Victor the seat next to her. They are soon joined by an elderly Japanese couple that loves to talk.
Laura keeps them engaged in conversation, while Victor only responds when directly asked a question. Victor stares out of the window, but his brain registers nothing, being deep in thought. Where can he hide the scrolls safely? And what is he going to do after hiding them? He and Laura will never be safe until he gets the contract on them cancelled. But who gave the order, and why? The information is sensitive, yes, but if he hands it over he has nothing, so why kill him and Laura? Can it be t
hat there is something in the files he is not supposed to know? What can it be? It cannot be the scrolls, for he cannot decipher the text. It can also not be the program controlling the nuclear missiles, for when he hands it over, they will use the code to plug the leak in the defense system.
That only leaves the identities of the 500 agents. Even so, knowing the identities of a few spies is no reason for a hit, unless some of those spies are in positions one would never expect. What if someone high up in the government is a spy? The familiar sound of the train’s whistle pulls Victor from his thoughts.
The train lazily makes its way to Machu Picchu, travelling next to the Urubamba river. Laura opens her mouth to comment on the scenery, but words fail her to describe how beautiful it is. Excitement fills her body as she stares out the window. She excitedly points to ruins or waterfalls as they pass them on their way. Suddenly the train stops, and Laura leans out of the window to see why.
Laura gasps, her mouth hangs open. It cannot be true. Yet it is. Five horses slowly make their way across the train tracks. The leading horse, a white horse with a black spot on his forehead, makes his way over to Laura. Laura’s heart jumps wildly as she strokes the horse’s head, who curls its lips and whinnys from pleasure. This cannot be happening, I am touching a real horse. Laura reaches over and picks up the apple that the waiter brought her as part of her snack package, then holds it out to the horse.
The horse’s soft fuzzy lips tickle her hand as it takes the apple. There is a crunch sound as the horse chews the apple. Laura grabs Victor by the arm, shaking him while pointing at the horses.
“Did you see that! He took the apple right out of my hand, that is so gnarly.”
“You really are a city girl,” Victor laughs.
The sound of the train’s whistle causes the horse to look up, and then slowly it backs away from the train, which starts moving again. Laura peers out of the window and waves at the horse. The horse greets back by dipping his head up and down a few times. Happiness fills Laura. This is so amazing, I am truly living my life now. Suddenly everything goes dark.
Laura 02 The God Code Page 2