Shadow Game

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Shadow Game Page 24

by Adam Hiatt


  “The Priest will be upset to learn you have betrayed your brother,” Reddic said at last.

  There it was. A facial twitch. A miniscule recognition. It was a tacit acknowledgement that spoke volumes.

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he managed to say.

  This is it, Reddic thought. This was the opening to find out if what he had learned about the secret darkness was genuine. If not, if it was all misinformation, or if his assumptions were wrong, then things could get ugly, quick.

  Reddic switched the Glock 27 to his left hand and lowered it to his lap. He slid to the middle of the backseat and extended his right hand to the front, offering it for the driver to take.

  “By this you will know me,” he said. He saw the key words that Ellis left behind flash before him in his mind as he waited. It was a big moment, no room for a mistake. He knew what was on the line. If he could successfully infiltrate the brotherhood by using their own protocols, he would find himself in a position to be a real-life Trojan horse.

  The driver seemed caught in a moment of indecision. His dark brown eyes darted back and forth between Reddic’s face and hand, clearly assessing the intent of the gesture. Reddic gripped the gun a little tighter at his side as he began to wonder if he had it all wrong. He relaxed a bit when the driver finally reached up and clasped his hand in a firm grip. His skin felt rough and hardened. One thing was for sure; this man’s hands did not belong to a hair stylist.

  “What is your desire?” the driver asked. Reddic’s heart bounced at the question. So far it was all playing out as he had hoped.

  “I desire illumination,” he replied.

  “What is the name seeking this illumination?”

  “It is the new name I have received. Simon.”

  The driver enveloped Reddic’s hand with his left and offered a relieved smile. “Now I know you are a brother,” he said. “I am Isaiah.”

  “Quick,” Reddic said, taking his hand back. “We must leave your car. Mine is waiting up the alley. We have much to do.”

  Leaving the BMW behind, they hurried up the alley with matching strides. Reddic got his first good look at Isaiah as he subtly studied him as they walked. He was roughly the same height, but a little broader in the shoulders. His face was showing signs of aging, but he took measures to mask it by maintaining a clean-shaven appearance and sporting a trendy Caesar haircut. He dressed somewhat fashionably with designer jeans and a tight polo shirt that only half covered a tattoo of what looked like a cross running down his bicep. A gold necklace carrying the same cross was his only visible jewelry.

  His outward appearance was irrelevant to Reddic, however. He didn’t care what clothes a man wore or what type of haircut he had. All that mattered was the threat level of the individual. In Isaiah’s case, his arms were above average length and bone structure was solid. He moved with an athletic grace like Reddic. He was fit and didn’t show any obvious signs of physical limitation. His eyes seemed to be in constant motion taking in his surroundings. It was clear that he had received some form of high-level training. There was no doubt in his mind that Isaiah would be a formidable opponent in a confrontation. He would not underestimate him

  Upon reaching the rental Reddic opened the back door and tossed his backpack inside. “You can sit up front,” he said. He quickly closed the door and caught Jaxon’s worrisome look. “Play along,” he said softly, just as Isaiah opened the passenger door.

  “Isaiah, this is Jeremiah. Jeremiah, Isaiah.” Jaxon tentatively nodded as he put the car into gear. Jeremiah?

  “Where should I drive?” Jaxon asked.

  “Take 16th all the way up,” Reddic said. “It will connect with the beltway.”

  Jaxon turned left onto 16th Street and followed the flow of vehicles northbound. He nervously looked at Reddic in the rearview mirror as he drove. He wasn’t about to say anything until he knew for sure what his brother was up to.

  “Isaiah, the Priest sent us to find some important materials for the project. What I can’t understand is why you were there waiting for us.”

  “Mahan sent me. I was to watch the woman’s office. If anybody showed up, I was supposed to call and report to him.”

  “Did you call?”

  “Yes, I did. As soon as you arrived.”

  “What did he instruct you to do?”

  “He told me to wait for you to leave, follow, and then report.”

  “Have you called in again to report us leaving?”

  “No, not yet. I was supposed to try to learn who you were and where you were going first.”

  Reddic had expected these answers. He simply wanted to get Isaiah talking to make him feel comfortable. Most importantly, however, he wanted to control the conversation. He needed answers, he needed information. He didn’t know how much this guy knew, but whatever it was, he would take it.

  “Do you know why the Priest wants the scientist woman?” Reddic asked.

  Isaiah turned in his seat and locked eyes with him. “I’m not sure we are permitted to discuss such things,” he said.

  “You are amongst your brothers,” Reddic countered. He knew he had to be careful. He couldn’t lose him here. “This is why we took our oaths.”

  Isaiah considered the words for a long moment. Reddic presumed he was accustomed to receiving and carrying out directives, not engaging in dialogue, speculative or not. But he was also betting that Isaiah wanted to speak openly. Reddic knew more than anybody the difficulty of keeping secrets bottled up.

  “I suppose you’re right,” Isaiah said, sitting forward in his seat. “I have just never met either one of you and I’m a little uncertain how to proceed.”

  “We are but a few now, but our numbers are growing,” Jaxon said. “If we cannot speak freely amongst our ranks the brotherhood will not survive.”

  Reddic smiled inwardly, impressed beyond measure with his brother’s improvisation.

  “Yes, this is true,” Isaiah replied contemplatively. “We must not have any secrets between us.” He half-turned in his seat again. “All I know about the project is what Mahan has revealed to me. I was told that this scientist, a physicist I believe, has a treasure that will make our brotherhood powerful beyond imagination. Anybody who interferes with our acquisition must be eliminated.”

  “That is why I came at you the way I did,” Reddic said. “I thought you were an enemy.”

  “That makes sense. I can see that now.”

  Keep him on the line, Reddic thought. Keep him believing.

  “Nothing can get in the way of the project,” Reddic reinforced. “We are in this together.” Another question came to mind, one that would provide a lot of insight. “What is your day job, Isaiah? Who do you work for?”

  “I work for the United States Secret Service.”

  Reddic again caught Jaxon’s eye in the mirror. He knew exactly what he was thinking. It was what they both feared. If the White House was involved, they were screwed.

  “What about you guys?” Isaiah asked. “What do you do?”

  “He’s a lawyer and I’m ex-military,” Reddic lied. It was weak, he knew, but his mind was too fixed on Isaiah’s admission to be any more creative. If the Priest’s brotherhood had members in the secret service, there was no telling how high up it penetrated. Pretty much anybody lusting after wealth and power could be swayed. Reddic looked out the window as the cityscape passed by. In Washington DC the list of people that fit into that category was endless.

  “The woman’s office we broke in to, what happened to her?” Reddic asked.

  “I don’t know. When we learned from the Priest that she was interfering with the project we separated her from the physicist.”

  “Is she dead?” Jaxon asked.

  “I don’t know,” Isaiah said. “She was unconscious when we took her to a motel and left her in a room. The Priest gave that order. Mahan wanted to kill her.”

  Reddic processed the information and came to a rapid, thankful conclusion. Mad
ison Jenkins was still alive. If they wanted her dead the Priest would have allowed the assassin to have his way. Now Reddic could focus his attention on finding Brooke. Jenkins would have to take care of herself.

  “Is Mahan still watching over the project?” Reddic asked. He was blindly fishing now, but he had no choice. Locating Brooke was all that mattered anymore.

  “Yes. In short order it should be complete.”

  “That is why we can’t waste time arranging a meet. We need to go directly to where he is. The project will be delayed if we don’t deliver what we found in the office,” Reddic said, tapping his backpack for emphasis. “And I do not want the Priest to hold me responsible for any delays.”

  “Have no fear, my brother,” Isaiah said. “I will take you to him.”

  Chapter 48

  Jenkins didn’t know what to do. She felt mentally paralyzed. Even though Cushman had left the room several minutes ago she still stared at the door in disbelief. She had known he had a dark side, but she could never have imagined this. He wasn’t just a power-hungry political appointee; he was a genuine megalomaniac.

  The red light on the camera was back on and she was still shackled to the bench. She tugged on the restraints and began to wonder if they would be removed at all. Perhaps this was Cushman’s way of letting her know he had complete control over her. She wouldn’t be surprised. After all, she did know his darkest secret now. There was no way he would let her survive this.

  She now had a pretty good idea what he was up to. He was planning to use EOS for his own devices, but he couldn’t do that if she were in his way. He probably had her replacement already selected. It truly was her worst nightmare being played out before her eyes.

  EOS was a vital instrument in the nation’s security apparatus. The Central Intelligence Agency, Homeland Security, the Department of Defense, and any of the other bureaucratic agencies were simply too big and too steeped with political correctness to function efficiently. She and her small group of operatives were able to undertake all kinds of critical assignments overseas and here on the homeland. They didn’t worry about jurisdiction; they worried about results.

  Over the years EOS had been tasked with the likes of overthrowing corrupt regimes, disrupting terrorist networks, and uncovering and containing a variety of plots by our nation’s enemies to wreak havoc on America or its citizens. Not only was EOS more efficient than the CIA, but it was less regulated. Her team was essentially a special projects division that reported directly to the president. Whereas congressional oversite placed restrictions and unnecessary burdens upon the others, EOS was able to work relatively unencumbered.

  The thought of a man like Kim Cushman having control and access to the information and resources of her agency was absolutely frightening. Instead of it being a peacekeeping tool, in the wrong hands it could easily be transformed into a lethal weapon. She shivered at the thought. This was not at all what she signed up for, and it certainly was not something she would allow to happen.

  The rage that surged through her system just thinking of Cushman was quickly supplanted by a sense of helplessness. There wasn’t a lot she could do chained down to a bench inside of a windowless interrogation room somewhere inside one of the country’s most secure air force bases. There was, however, one final card she could play, but she needed access to a phone. One of the perks of the job was that she had a direct line to the president that was reserved for times of emergency. She couldn’t even begin to measure a more critical circumstance than the present.

  The door to the room suddenly swung open and the same two soldiers, Lieutenant Lewis and Captain Wilson, entered the room. Wilson came and stood vigilantly to her right just as before and Lewis moved around to her backside, loosening her shackles. She knew this was her best chance to get to a phone.

  “Gentlemen,” Jenkins said. “I commend you for doing your jobs with such professionalism. I know this isn’t easy for you.”

  “Thank you, ma’am,” Wilson responded tersely.

  “I want you to know that I am being held against my will under false pretenses. I have a feeling that you both already know that.”

  Neither one of them replied. Lewis removed the chain from around the bench and was unfastening the belt around her waist.

  “I work for President Rutherford,” she continued. “I am one of his closest advisors and can prove it. I just need to make one phone call to him and—”

  “Ma’am, we are not permitted to provide you that right,” Lewis interrupted.

  “You guys need to use common sense. Just ask yourselves, do I look like a terror threat? Do you even know who I am?”

  “I’m sorry ma’am,” Wilson said. “We have our orders.” Lewis gathered the restraints and both men turned to quickly leave the room.

  “Wait,” Jenkins shouted as the door was closing. “What have I been charged with?”

  The door slammed shut and the locks clicked into place with a sense of finality. The feeling of helplessness returned to her with a vengeance. Her last-ditch effort at freeing herself had just failed. She suddenly felt like crying but didn’t think she could muster the strength to do so. Instead, she put her head in her arms and wondered how this could be happening to her. For what seemed like an eternity she remained motionless in the same position. What was the point in doing anything else, she thought?

  After a while her mind began to drift. She imagined the locks to the door snapping open. Her thoughts were so real she imagined hearing the hinges grind as the steel door came free from the frame. She thought she could hear footsteps enter the room. She wanted to lift her head up out of her arms to see if what she heard was real or just her mind playing tricks on her. She decided to keep her head down. She didn’t think she could handle any more disappointment.

  “Ma’am,” she heard. That voice sounded real. She risked a peek. Standing before her at the other side of the table was Lewis. Wilson stood behind him in the doorway. Her eye caught the camera on the wall. The red light was blacked out again. Her heart began to flutter. Lewis held a satellite phone in his hand. He put it on the table and slid it across to her side.

  “You have five minutes,” he said.

  47

  The Francis Scott Key Bridge, called the Key Bridge by the locals, wasn’t necessarily renowned for being the third longest continuous truss bridge in the world or for commemorating the place that inspired the Star-Spangled Banner. It was simply regarded as a necessary link to the Baltimore Beltway that enabled more than ten million vehicles to cross the Patapsco River and travel to the outer harbor region of the city. And, considering that it was a toll bridge with a high volume of traffic, it served as a substantial source of revenue for the Maryland Transportation Authority.

  After passing through the toll booth, Jaxon methodically drove in the right lane as Reddic surveyed the landscape from their elevated position on the bridge. To the left, looking upriver, the expanse of urban sprawl, suburban neighborhoods, trees, and water vessels were visible as far as the eye could see. Jetting up into the sky a few miles away, the high-rise buildings of downtown Baltimore stood out amongst the flat terrain. His line of sight shifted to the right side of the bridge to a completely different scene. Just beneath them was their destination—a small, nearly uninhabited and desolate peninsula known as Sparrows Point.

  Since the turn of the century Baltimore, much like its northeastern sister cities, had experienced an economic transformation. Millennials graduating from college were familiar with its burgeoning businesses, such as sports apparel outfitter Under Armor, investment firm T. Rowe Price, real estate developer Cordish Company, John Hopkins Hospital, and a plethora of tech companies and service careers. These drove the economy and produced ninety percent of the jobs. But it hasn’t always been that way. For over a hundred years Baltimore was an industrial town focused on steel processing, auto manufacturing, and shipping. But as operating and pension costs increased and EPA regulations intensified, these mass employers began to d
isappear one by one.

  Sparrows Point was no exception. It had been synonymous with steel manufacturing since the 19th century. The Pennsylvania Steel Company first purchased the land and subsequently built the largest steel mill in the world. A few years later, in 1916, Bethlehem Steel bought the 3,100-acre property and expanded the business. Production grew rapidly, especially during both world wars. Alloy and combination mills, foundries, mould yards, treatments sheds, power plants, and blast furnaces covered nearly every acre of the peninsula. But in 2012 time caught up with the steel industry. The company went bankrupt and thousands of jobs were lost. To make matters worse, the entire peninsula was abandoned as if it were Chernobyl.

  Virtually all remnants of the steel empire had been demolished or disassembled since the insolvency. Only a handful of plant operation and office buildings scattered at random locations across the vast property remained upright. For years Sparrows Point was a vibrant shipping port and railroad yard transporting the precious steel across the globe, but the abandoned docks, tracks, and buildings were now just a reminder of what the place once was.

  Jaxon maneuvered the Ford sedan around a few piles of scrap metal as they neared the building. Reddic tried to keep calm, but it was becoming increasingly difficult the closer they got. In a situation like this he normally would have left the car at least a couple hundred yards away and approached by foot. With Isaiah in the vehicle, however, that would have done nothing but cause suspicion. Driving right up to the building like they belonged was the only way they could maintain their cover.

  “This is it?” Jaxon asked as he circled the two-story structure.

  “This is where we’ll meet Mahan, yes,” Isaiah replied.

  Jaxon put the gearshift in park and Isaiah stepped out of the car. Reddic signaled for Jaxon to stay put before he hopped out. The building was large, at least forty yards long and twenty wide. It was made entirely of brick and looked sturdy. There were windows on both levels, protected by iron bars, but the glass on the lower level appeared to be covered with a heavy drapes or shades from the inside. No vehicles were in sight, but Reddic noticed a garage door as they passed the side of the building with tire tracks leading to it. It wasn’t hard to assume that there were probably vehicles inside.

 

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