It was a good question. The team had been mulling it over for days on end, exhausted all lines of conversation, and then started again. Information coming out of DC was scarce and unreliable. Hayden knew people that would fight for her; that would keep her in the loop, but the last thing she wanted was to compromise them.
“We know some high-level players in Washington burned us,” Hayden said. “We can only speculate as to Kimberley Crowe’s involvement. She’s relatively new to the job and could have been railroaded. Or . . . she could be the instigator. We need to get closer, go higher. Somehow, we have to get back to DC.”
Dahl shook his head. “We’ve been over all this,” he said softly. “Those I care about are in DC. The girls . . . and Johanna.” He covered the pause by talking fast. “We don’t know the breadth of what we’re up against and we can’t risk my family being used against us.”
“I can’t believe they would sink that low,” Kinimaka said.
The Swede didn’t look at him. “They’re politicians,” he said. “Yes, I know some are good. Some are trying to do the right thing. But as for the rest . . .”
He didn’t finish. It had been said before.
“Keeping a low profile is best for now,” Drake agreed.
“And the Sword of Mars?” Hayden pressed. “The longer that weapon of the gods stays in the wrong hands the worse I feel. It could be part of a longer-term venture.”
“Like what?” Mai asked. “It’s only just surfaced.”
“No telling how long people have been looking for it.”
“And who says Cambridge of the British SAS is the wrong hands?” Drake wondered.
“Well, don’t forget it could also be with the Chinese Special Forces,” Hayden reminded them. “That’s a vast and deadly gulf between choices.”
Drake acknowledged her words with a nod. “True.”
Lauren, quiet until now, spoke up. “I should go back to DC. I wasn’t with you in Peru when all the . . . shit happened. I wasn’t there when Joshua died. I’m free.”
“They’ll interrogate you,” Smyth said a little dismissively.
“What can they say?” Lauren protested. “I was on the phone to Crowe herself, gathering Intel and acting as the go-between. And it can be vouched for. Like I said, I’m free.”
“Almost as if we set it up,” Hayden said. “Or someone did.”
“I don’t know what that means,” Lauren insisted. “But of all the people here I am the one that can go back to DC with ease, with impunity. Yeah, they’ll question me and I’ll tell them all I know. But the longer I hang around with you guys the longer it will take for them to believe me, and leave me alone to do my thing.”
The entire team stared at her, thinking it through. It was true, almost as if had been set up right back at the beginning of the Inca operation. Lauren Fox was in the clear.
“They’ll quiz you about the four corners mission, and why you didn’t leave sooner,” Smyth still protested.
“Yeah, and I’ll say I kept my distance. Which I did, for the most part. This was my first real opportunity to leave. I’ll tell them I slipped away in Transylvania and then recount everywhere else you’ve been. I’ll tell them everything, quickly. Hope they check it out. Then . . .” She shrugged.
“They’re trained for this kind of thing. They’ll see through you,” Kinimaka noted.
“You forget who I am.” Lauren smiled. “And why I was initially recruited. My job is lying. My whole world was built around a lie. Jonathan initially recruited me for one thing—lying.”
Again, the team sat back, more than a little impressed. Had Jonathan Gates envisioned a scenario like this, way back then? It was impossible, of course, but all bases had to be covered for all contingencies, and Lauren was the perfect actress and deceiver.
“Can’t say I saw this coming,” Drake said. “Nobody could. But Lauren does have a good point.”
“They could keep her locked up for months,” Smyth said. “Black-site her. Torture her. They could kill her and drop her down a well and we’d never know.”
“All I need,” Lauren said, “is one chance. One chance to get close to President Coburn. If I get that done—” she spread her arms “—all this goes away.”
“Smyth does have a point,” Hayden said. “I know how this shit works. They may keep her hidden away for a long time. Unofficial. Off the books. They may want all trace of SPEAR gone forever.”
“Then I’ll make if official,” Lauren said. “I don’t need my goddamn hand holding here. I’ll walk right into the New York Times and give myself up.”
Drake and the others regarded her with admiration. “It could work . . .” the Yorkshireman said.
“It will work,” Lauren said. “I can do this for all of us.” She coughed at the end of her last sentence, waving the help from Smyth away. “I’m fine.”
“You’ve been coughing for days.”
“Yeah, dickhead, it’s called a cold.”
“She’s right,” Alicia said. “I have one too. You never tried to hug the tits off me, Lancelot.”
“And me,” Drake put in.
“This is Transylvania,” Dahl said seriously, with an accent. “There are far worse things out there than colds.”
The team looked at him, surprised, and then all laughed together. It lightened the situation considerably and put a temporary end to Lauren’s suggestions. As on every previous day, they would revisit all the diverse solutions later. It had become an unspoken agreement.
The team would stick together.
They watched without word as a whorl of mist seeped under the ill-fitting door and swirled around. The night pressed hard against the windows, the walls and the foundations of the house, as if representing the new enemy that hunted them.
Another enemy. So many, they had lost count.
“Y’know something,” Hayden said. “I never mentioned this before. But winning, succeeding in whatever you do . . . simply paints you as a target. In many ways.”
“Not just a target,” Dahl said. “We could be on anyone’s agenda, and used in a thousand ways. Even us, a team that supposedly does not exist.”
Gravity was returning to the room, thick and fast. Alicia sensed it and all the morose gloom it brought; she rose quickly to her feet, and started to undress.
Pausing with her T-shirt raised above her head she looked around and said, “So, you guys gonna fuck off, or what? Drake promised to do the Time Warp on me tonight.” She threw the shirt in the corner. “Now, I don’t really know what that means, but I’m dying to find out.”
She started on her jeans, unbuckling the belt.
The room emptied fast.
CHAPTER TWO
It was no coincidence that the shrewd, streetwise New Yorker, Lauren Fox, mentioned returning to DC that night. She’d thought it all through and planned it for days. She’d walked the roads, learned the routes, found out the time the first bus stopped by. In addition, she had scoped out a car that she knew how to hotwire. Leaving a double trail was better if they decided to follow.
Smyth would want to, maybe Mano too. Maybe even Dahl. But the others had seen right through to the core of her plan, considered her role and resolution, and saw that it might succeed. She was willing to accept whatever consequences came her way.
Wrapping up warm, cursing the cold she’d picked up, she left her room just before dawn when the night was still dark. The mist helped conceal her but also jabbed at her lungs. She managed to stifle another cough before moving on. Soon, she was clear of her room, walking a familiar path toward the center of town. Around her, though she could not see, homes were built atop the undulating slopes, all following the angles of the mountains and valleys. Some flickering lamps shone out against the darkness, sparse and bare, promising a safe haven, but Lauren pressed on through the wet murk, head down, and stuck to her pre-planned route.
Vague sounds caught her attention, sharp over her softly padding footsteps. A dog barking, a large bird takin
g flight. A car burbled over up ahead to the right, revealing that she wasn’t the only one abroad in the chilling gloom, and offering an odd, small amount of comfort.
The long walk. The last walk. Would she ever see them all again? A team of strangers that had gradually become family. A bunch of misfits that had accepted her, befriended her and valued her opinion. She wasn’t like them at all, wasn’t built to fight and hunt and kill enemies. She hadn’t even had much chance to showcase her skills, but when she did . . . they all respected her.
They would respect her again now.
*
Drake awoke to see Alicia staring out of the bedroom’s single window, the glass foggy, a weak, stray beam of sunlight trying to find its way inside.
“Dawn?” he asked.
“A little after.”
“Come back to bed. We have nothing to rush out for.”
“Yeah, ain’t that true.”
Drake propped himself up on an elbow. Alicia was fully dressed as though prepared to head straight out on a mission. “Is something wrong?”
“It’s all wrong. We should be out there. Fighting. Hunting. Putting the fear of the Devil into every would-be killer that crosses our path.”
“Nobody asked for this.”
“That’s not the point.”
He shifted a little. “Don’t you . . . ache?”
She turned her head toward him, the blond of her hair catching the fragile light. “For what?”
“I don’t mean mentally, Alicia, I mean physically. All the injuries, the wounds, the bruises; they add up.”
“Of course I ache. I just get on with it.”
“So take some time to heal.”
Alicia shook her head. “Shit, Drakey, do you even know me?”
Of course he did. He knew her innermost thoughts and feelings, her fears and ambitions. He knew that right now she wanted nothing more than to keep moving, with friends; simply set her feet on a forward course. It was the inaction that hurt her.
“If it helps we’re gonna have to leave here soon. We don’t need more attention.”
“How are the funds?”
“Not bad, love. Not bad. Yorgi appropriated a small fortune from that safe near where they were keeping the Sword of Mars.”
She managed a smile. “Ah, yes, well at least that promises another future adventure.”
Drake climbed out of bed naked and padded over to her. “Plenty more to come.”
“Are you trying to distract me?”
“Who?” Drake bent down to kiss her. “Me?”
The sudden knock at the door was like a grenade going off. Drake felt his heart leap into his mouth. Alicia was off her chair and taking cover just as a familiar voice rang out.
“You decent?”
“Smyth? What the fuck do you want?”
“We have a problem. Main room—two minutes.”
Alicia wrenched the door open, sparing Drake no embarrassment, but Smyth was already gone, knocking hard on the next door.
Drake dressed quickly and followed Alicia to the meeting room. Most of the crew were already assembled, and within minutes the rest had joined them.
Hayden addressed the team.
“Lauren has taken off. Sometime during the night. We don’t know how far away she is or how she’s traveling.”
Drake was surprised but spoke up immediately. “Bus station is a short walk.”
“Tried it,” Smyth said. “The first bus left two hours ago. We can catch up pretty easily.”
Drake saw where this was going. “You want to catch her? Bring her back? And then what?”
Smyth stared as if he didn’t understand the question. “What are you talking about?”
“She hasn’t been kidnapped,” Hayden said softly. “She wasn’t coerced. Lauren left of her own free will. Do you want to be the one that makes her come back?”
Smyth bristled. “Well, well, yeah. If I have to. She can’t . . . she can’t just . . .” He ran out of steam.
“First of all,” Mai said. “Are we sure she left of her own accord?”
Hayden shrugged. “Her room’s tidy. Nothing amiss. Her luggage is all gone. Why would anyone just take Lauren? Oh, and we found this note.”
She placed an A4 sheet on the table, on which were written just a few lines.
Don’t come after me. I’ll be in touch. It’s my turn now.
Smyth looked away. Drake felt a rush of admiration for the New Yorker. “She’s going to help us. Like she said—don’t underestimate what she can do.”
The team sat down, reflecting on what Lauren might have to endure. The outcome was entirely unknown, and she knew it.
“We should leave this place,” Mai said. “Today.”
“Sprite’s right,” Alicia said instantly, then. “Whoa, what did I just say?”
“Alicia,” Mai glared at her. “We’ve been working together for what: five years now? And before that, on occasion. You really need to come up with a new and improved name.”
“I do? Well, here’s a few that roll right off the tip of my tongue—”
“Before we get to that,” Drake hastily interrupted. “Shall we start packing? We should put a fair distance between us and Transylvania over the next few days.”
Smyth looked unhappy. Hayden reminded him that Lauren was going to volunteer all the information. Hopefully Crowe would get involved.
Hopefully, they could trust Crowe.
Either way, they were in Lauren Fox’s hands for a while now.
Drake walked over and took his first proper look out of the window that morning. The night mist had cleared away to reveal a rolling valley, dotted by trees and small houses, bright colors against the green and brown of nature. The skies were covered with gray clouds and a light drizzle greeted the rising dawn. People were moving out there, going about their business. Since they had chosen a guesthouse right on the edge of town they could see for miles—at least in two directions. The shambling old place also had the advantage of several egress and exit points.
“Meet at the cars in an hour?” he suggested.
A muted chorus of agreement met his ears. The team were rising when there came one more loud knock at the door.
Drake couldn’t help but glance at Smyth.
“Don’t look at me,” the angry soldier snapped.
Hayden sprang to the side of the door; Mai sidling to the other side. Kinimaka took cover behind the sofa and then started to shout: “Who is it?” his head visible just above the cushions.
Hayden waved him down. They shouldn’t reveal themselves yet.
Drake and the others edged to the sides of the room. No sound was heard inside or outside, and of course, there was a rear exit. Yorgi was already there, inching the door open a crack and Kenzie was right at his side.
The Israeli signaled that they keep quiet. Most of them rolled eyes back at her. Dahl was at her shoulder and then the three of them were gone.
Drake waited, imagining them creeping around the side of the house, vigilant in every direction. It shouldn’t take long . . .
Another knock. Of course, anyone seeking to do them harm wouldn’t be knocking, but it could be some kind of diversion. They could take nothing for granted.
“Hold it!” Kenzie’s voice, commanding and harsh.
“Not a problem. Just don’t shoot.”
Drake frowned. That voice sounded familiar.
Alicia narrowed her eyes, staring at the front door. “I’m sure—”
“What do you want?” Kenzie asked. “Best be quick, old man. I haven’t killed anyone for a week.”
“I want you to take it easy,” the familiar voice said. “And I want Drake and Alicia to get their arses out here.”
“Bloody hell,” Drake said. “I’d know that voice anywhere. Eventually.”
Alicia used the comms system to stand Kenzie down in her unique manner. “Put it away, bitch.”
Drake walked straight to the door and pulled it open. “Michael Crouch,” he
said. “Been a while, mate. How did you manage to find us?”
His old boss grinned. “You know me. Contacts everywhere. I don’t like to reveal my secrets.”
They dragged him inside, confronted him gravely. “This time,” Dahl said, “you do.”
“Alicia here—” the Englishman shrugged “—I have her personal number of course, for getting in touch when we need her help. I simply tracked it.”
To a person, the entire team turned to stare at the blond woman.
“Are you kidding?” Drake said.
“What?” Alicia protested. “Only the chosen few have access to my personal number. Do you have it, Smyth? Kenzie? Mai? No, I rest my case.”
“And what if they’d kidnapped this Crouch person?” Kenzie asked, staring at Alicia.
Drake managed to stifle a laugh. Alicia did no such thing. “Don’t be a fool.”
Crouch maneuvered his way to the center of the room. Though absent from their small circle for some time, Crouch had previously worked alongside them and separately with Alicia. His loyalty was absolute and unquestioned and it was a testament to the allegiance and trust he inspired that everyone in the room simply stood and listened to what he had to say.
“I need your help.”
“That’s easier said than done . . .” Hayden spoke fast and then deliberately let the sentence hang.
“I know your situation. I know what happened. Well . . . I’ve chosen to believe a certain one of the conflicting reports—let’s put it that way. Someone across the pond is seriously pissed at you, my friends, and that needs taking care of.”
“Is that why you’re here?” Kinimaka asked.
“No. My mission is much more important.”
Drake blinked. “What could be more important than unravelling a conspiracy that may stretch all the way to the President?” he asked.
“Egypt,” Crouch said.
“Egypt?”
“Yeah, sandy place with a big river running through it. Turn left at the top of Saudi.”
“All right, I know where Egypt is,” Drake said. “What’s the problem?”
Crouch reached for a glass of water, settling himself on one of the room’s long, sagging sofas. “I wouldn’t bother you if it weren’t vital. And I do believe you’ll hate what I have to say.” He took a breath and another gulp of water.
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