Search and Destroy

by JT Sawyer

  He looked up briefly, the breeze flitting sand against his face. He was tired on a level he’d never known. The weight of anguish and vengeance had shredded his soul, leaving a chasm in the center of his being. He just wanted it to all be over.

  If only I could join Cassie and be free of this twisted world.

  “What happens now?” he said, letting his hands relax by his sides as he turned to face her.

  There was a pregnant silence in the air, then she lowered her weapon, thrusting her chin out to the estate. “The Colombian cartel that Hunley and Roth got entangled with…they sure made a mess of things in this country with their own private war.”

  He looked at the dead mercenaries splayed along the grounds. “Yeah, I reckon so.”

  They heard the voices from her other agents in the distance, then Carter glanced out to the main road. “There’ll be a rapid-response team enroute to this site soon, putting up roadblocks.”

  “Hate to be on the receiving end of that.”

  Carter smirked. “I doubt anything scares you, Shepard.”

  “Being alone for the rest of my days, unable to live in the country I fought to defend…how about that for starters.”

  She stepped away from the truck. “Sorry, Shepard. I really am.”

  “It’s the way it has to be for now, it seems.” He ran his hand through his hair then gave her a long stare before getting into the vehicle. As he pulled away, he paused and rolled the window down.

  “Stay safe, Carter.”

  She nodded, stepping outside of the building. “You too.”

  He drove out along the main road, watching her in the rearview mirror of the truck until she faded into the backdrop of the mountains to the south.

  60

  Four Days Later

  Patterson was sitting in his office, trying to garner enough concentration to continue sorting through his emails and avoiding glancing over at his recently drafted resignation letter to the National Intelligence Director.

  I’ll go out on my terms, not on Begley’s. Besides, maybe Foley will have some freelance work for me, even if it’s just teaching shooting skills.

  With the blur of events surrounding Cal in recent days and the internal investigations happening within the CIA and NSA with regard to the Perseus project, Patterson felt like he hadn’t slept in a month.

  A great field agent’s life ruined, his hope for a family and a real life apart from this madness washed away…and for what? He leaned back in his chair, staring out at a lone cumulus cloud drifting across the cobalt sky. And a good friend that I’ll probably never see again.

  He knew that Cal was probably a continent away by now, starting some semblance of a new life under a new identity. He also knew that a man with Cal’s skills would only resurface when he chose to.

  If he wants to. God help anyone who causes him to do that.

  He looked at the photo on his bookshelf of Cal and himself with their first SAD team near Tora Bora during the early days in Afghanistan.

  Be safe, my friend.

  A knock on the door plunged him back to his present reality. He saw Vogel walk in, and he wondered if her weary expression mirrored his own.

  “Lynn, thanks for coming in on such short notice. I just wanted you to know that this concludes everything I needed from you regarding Cal and Perseus. I know that there’s an internal investigation going on regarding Jessica Quinn’s role in your division, but after that concludes, you will be returning to your regular duties as targeting officer for the SD unit. That needs to be the main focus again now that the team has arrived at their new location.”

  Vogel clasped her hands in front of her. “Sir, about Quinn, I was…”

  He waved his hand. “She played her role well, didn’t she? The fact that her mother changed their last name after arriving in this country wasn’t something that was red-flagged by our recruiting agents during the initial assessment; nor should it have been, since that wasn’t out of the ordinary, but it left no way for you to connect the dots between what Burke uncovered in Caracas and her background.”

  “Yes, sir, but I just can’t help but think that none of this would have happened if Quinn hadn’t…that Cal and the others…” She wiped her cheek, pulling her shoulders back.

  Patterson stood up, resting his hand on her shoulder. “What we do here is about managing chaos to hold back the conflict trying to breach our shores, and you have done that admirably and with distinction on a daily basis with the lives of the men and women who are out there on the other end, depending on your abilities. You are at the top of the pyramid, Lynn, and as such, you will find that hindsight is always cleverer than foresight.”

  She nodded, staring ahead. “And Cal…what happens to him now?”

  He lowered his eyes, leaning on the edge of his desk. “He’s in the wind…for good.”

  “If you don’t mind me asking, what will Cal’s team be told about what happened?”

  “I’ll be speaking with them this evening in the briefing room about their upcoming mission in Nigeria. They’ll hear it all from me firsthand, and trust me, I’ll spare no details.” He sighed, running his fingers along the neatly creased paper that was folded precisely in half. “They know him. Know who the hell he is deep down.”

  “He was a good man. It should’ve been different,” she whispered.

  Vogel stepped forward, handing him a folded piece of paper. “I thought you might want this.”

  She turned, heading to the door, then paused. “You will be missed, sir.”

  “Thanks, Lynn. The feeling’s mutual.”

  “The thanks are all mine, sir, believe me.”

  Patterson watched her leave then unfolded the paper, staring at a name and an address in Mississippi.

  61

  FBI Headquarters, Washington D.C.

  Carter had just gotten into her green SUV, ready to head home and enjoy a rare weekend off when her phone rang, the number of the forensics team leader showing up.

  “This had better be good. I’ve got a date with a new book at home.”

  “And who said you don’t take risks in your personal life,” said James Corelli on the other end.

  “Shut up. What d’ya have?”

  “We’re just finishing up things at the Shepard place and came across something that you’re gonna want see. How close by are you?”

  She sighed, starting the engine and backing out. “Be there in thirty.”

  Carter ducked under the crime-scene tape, passing by two of the forensics techs who were packing up their vehicle with their photography equipment. She walked to the side door of the garage, stepping inside and moving up alongside Corelli, who had waved her over and was pointing to a six-inch-diameter hole in the corner of the concrete floor.

  “So, when we arrived back here this morning, we came across this. Whoever did it knew how to access the garage and unearth this cache.” He bent down, lowering his hand into the hole and removing a footlong steel cylinder by its handle.

  He pried open the lid, revealing an empty Ziploc and several depleted boxes of 9mm ammo.

  “Had to be Shepard, right? But why the hell would this guy risk coming all the way back here?”

  “Thanks, Corelli.”

  He nodded, heading inside the house.

  Carter looked around the rest of the garage then knelt down, peering into the hole. She pulled out her flashlight, shining it into the opening. She bent forward, wriggling her hand down along the earth below the lip of the concrete and removing something from the loose soil.

  She smirked, pulling out Tremblay’s FBI badge, recalling the shootout on the bridge like it was years ago.

  “Son of a bitch,” she whispered, pocketing the badge and standing up.

  She walked back out to her vehicle, pausing to look around the neighborhood, wondering where the man had gone after he left here.

  Probably already in Tokyo or Chile.

  At least that’s what she tried to tell herself as she g
ot into her SUV and drove home.

  62

  Five Days Later

  Biloxi, Mississippi

  Jessica Quinn juggled the two paper bags of groceries as she exited the stairwell onto the third floor then headed down the hallway to her suite.

  Now that Hunley and Roth were gone and a burn notice had been put on her by the CIA, she would have to return to freelancing on the dark web. But first she had to finish forging a passport and getting her new identity lined up. Fortunately, she had accrued a small fortune working for the two men that would tide her over for the next six months. Her only pressing decisions now were whether to relocate to Barbados or French Polynesia to avoid any entanglements with the agency, which didn’t have a footprint in those locations.

  She set the bags down, opening the door then sliding everything into the foyer of her spacious two-bedroom suite.

  Flicking on the living room lights, she felt her heart punch through her ribs at the sight of a man sitting in an armchair near the gas fireplace. He was wearing a tan trench coat, and his gloved hand held a suppressed .45 pistol.

  The man removed his hat, revealing the chiseled face of Neil Patterson, causing her to backpedal into the wall.

  “Nice place you have, Ms. Quinn…or is it Henderson? I’m curious to know what you put down on your application here for job history—anarchist or treasonous cyber-intrusion expert.”

  “You’ve got it all wrong. I was set up by the same people who tried to burn Shepard, and I only…”

  “Enough. It’s over. Vogel matched your identity on the dark web with a cloud-based account that Hunley kept on the computer at his home in Georgia. He evidently had contingencies drawn up in case he was double-crossed.”

  Patterson stood up, slowly walking forward. “If you were still with the agency then you’d be facing a lengthy prison sentence, which brings me to why I’m here.”

  She flailed her arms, her lips trembling. “I can explain. Please don’t shoot.”

  He leveled the gun at her head. “Do you know how many other agents you’ve put at risk around the world? Your actions didn’t just destroy one man’s life. You should be grateful that I’m here and not Shepard, or you’d enter a world of pain you never knew existed.”

  She flung her hands up further, her face growing ashen. “Please, I was only…”

  The hollowpoint round punched through her forehead, spraying bone splinters and red mist out the back onto a painting on the wall. The woman’s mouth was agape as she slid to the floor, slumping into a heap.

  Patterson removed the suppressor then rehosltered his pistol. He bent over, pulling out Henderson’s cellphone from her pocket and tucking it into his trench coat beside her laptop.

  He turned off the lights then stepped around the pooling blood on the tile and quietly exited the suite.

  63

  Baltimore, Maryland

  Cal stepped out from the back door of the closed pawn shop, placing his lock-picking tools into their leather case. He took a circuitous path along the back alleys, arriving four blocks later at a black Tacoma. He got inside the passenger’s seat then pulled back his hoodie.

  Viper glanced over at him. “The plane is waiting for us. The pilot said we need to be wheels-up in an hour if we want to make it to Mumbai by tomorrow night.”

  He nodded in the affirmative.

  “I wasn’t able to locate anything on a Terry Zemenova, though,” she said. “He’s either someone with our ability to stay off the grid or it’s a codename.”

  “Who knows—this is Burke we’re talking about, and he liked shrouding things in mystery at times. We’ll delve into it further once we’re in India.”

  She held up her iPhone, showing a news headline with Ernesto Rimaldi’s name.

  “Damn, looks like Venezuela may have a chance at climbing out of the dark ages with their new president.”

  “It’ll be interesting to see what springs of that seed in the years to come.”

  She pulled into traffic, heading west, looking in her rearview mirror. “Get what you came for?”

  “I did.” Cal reached into his pocket, sliding out the gold Rolex. He glided his fingers along the edge then turned it over to read the inscription, feeling like he was standing in Burke’s office all over again.

  It was the best of times.

  It was the worst of times.

  He sighed then forced his head up, staring at the distant skyline. Right now, he felt like he couldn’t remember a time when he wasn’t numb. He tried to mentally weave his way beyond the horrors of the past few weeks, searching for traces on his scarred soul of the best of times in his life as he thought of his wife and working for Burke. But all he could see was the blurred images of their faces like he was a distant explorer peering through the window of a time capsule.

  Cal fought to keep his senses in the present before a tidal wave of anguish swept over him.

  I can’t go down that road again…not now.

  He leaned forward, pulling his shoulder bag from under the seat then removing the black box inside containing Perseus’ source code, turning it over in his hands as if it were a mystical talisman.

  “You sure you want to push forward with what Burke started?” she said. “That could lead down a path the likes of which neither of us can predict.”

  Cal looked at the growing line of gray clouds along the horizon, uncertain of whether a storm was coming and trying to focus on the sliver of sunlight piercing through the mass of stratocumulus formation.

  “Mumbai first, then we’ll see what exactly that path looks like.” He swiveled in his seat towards her. “You could just walk away. Head out on your own. Coming with me is only going to tie you to a life on the run.”

  “I already told you, you’re family—probably the only family I’ll ever have—though you’re more of the misguided black sheep in the family.” She glanced down at the lacerations on his arms from the battle in Texas. “Besides, I know you’re a lone-wolf type, but you look like you could use someone watching your back right now. We both could.”

  He muffled out an exhale. And then there’s the part about you being the only friend I have left.

  Shepard nodded, fixing his eyes on the open road ahead. “Just watch how you’re driving. This is a rental, so try not to scratch it.”

  Viper narrowed her eyes. “Bullshit—you stole it. I was there.”

  He shrugged his shoulder, struggling to remember what it was like to smile but only managing to force out a faint grin. Trying to find humor in the small things and focusing solely on his life in this moment was the only way he’d survive and move forward now.

  Today was the only thing within his grasp.

  He stared up at a cottony row of cumulus clouds drifting across the sky.

  And tomorrow…who knows what the sunrise will bring.

  64

  Two Days Later

  Undisclosed Black Site, United States East Coast

  Colonel Ryan Foley strode through the warehouse, his weathered boots quickly becoming covered with dust. He saw Patterson standing in the far corner of the building, dressed in a trench coat and his usual black suit and tie.

  As Foley walked up, he shook his head. “With you resigned from the agency, I figured you’d be in a Hawaiian shirt and shorts.”

  “Soon enough.”

  Patterson motioned him towards a stairwell door. “This is the last time we’ll be able to communicate on this matter again—you know that. I’ve covered everything on my end, and Begley has his attention focused on Roth and Hunley for the theft at Burke’s.”

  “I only have one man to answer to now and a budget that will ensure that Begley never gets wind of Perseus and what I’m planning to do with it.”

  “This is what you always wanted, Ryan—an off-the-books unit and a tool like Perseus to help. I envy you.”

  “You made this possible, my friend. The critical response team I’m forming will answer only to the president and provide first-strike ca
pabilities unlike anything we could have done in SAD, especially with Perseus putting us lightyears ahead of anyone else in clandestine ops. Thank you for keeping it safe and trusting me with it.”

  “I had a contingency plan to remove it all from Burke’s company in the event of something catastrophic occurring. I just wish it had stayed a plan on paper.”

  “It will still fulfill what you described of his vision to save lives. He would be proud, I think.”

  “I’m taking a long break from the East Coast, but if you ever need someone to make sure that your sights are holding true, so to speak, then don’t hesitate to reach out.”

  “I may do that, old friend. Be safe and enjoy that vacation. You sure as hell earned it.”

  The two men trotted down the rear stairwell, exiting the second sub-level, passing two armed guards equipped with MP-7 rifles.

  Tapping in the seven-digit code on the numeric keypad, Patterson stepped back as the air-sealed door hissed open.

  Inside the cavernous chamber, a bustling crew of a dozen technicians were performing systems checks on an array of neatly arranged computer processing systems and one of the largest mainframes that Foley had ever seen.

  He paused before an older man with spectacles who seemed oblivious to his presence as he continued to studiously type on his tablet.

  Patterson made the requisite introductions, indicating that everyone would now be answering to Foley.

  “How long before it’s operational?” said Foley.

  “Two more days of diagnostics, then I’ll know more.” The man lowered the tablet, turning towards Patterson. “I believe we’ll be able to retrieve close to ninety percent of Perseus’ former capabilities, but there is a critical component missing, so that is a blank spot that my staff is going to have to go to work on once we know exactly what is lacking.”