The Denali Deception

by Ernest Dempsey

  "This is Wyatt at a rendezvous point with his Russian contact. They met last week at a coffee shop in Portland, Maine. We also have text records and phone calls to and from a number connected to Moscow. We need to know what he's working on and any relevant information you can give us."

  Tommy stared at the photo. It was definitely Sean in the picture, but it was difficult to tell who was sitting across the table from him. Or even if the other person in the picture had actually been there. Photoshop made things far too easy to manipulate.

  "Look, Kyle, is it? I appreciate what you're trying to do, but Sean isn't working with the Russians. I can tell you that with 100 percent certainty. Last I heard from him, he was working on a special project for the president. I don't know what it is, exactly. From what he told me, he doesn't know what it is either. Why don't you reach out to him? I can give you his number if you like."

  Kyle fired a sidelong glance at his man on the sidewalk. The guy shifted a little, exposing the weapon bulging out of his jacket.

  "We've tried. He's not answering."

  Tommy sensed the man moving closer behind him. Something about this interrogation was off, and it was getting worse by the moment. Either these guys weren't who they said they were, or they were up to no good.

  "Well, maybe he's just busy. Or maybe he doesn't answer calls from numbers he doesn't recognize. I know I don't. If I get a call from a number I don’t know, I let it go to voice mail."

  "You know," Kyle said ignoring Tommy's explanation, "your friendship with Sean goes way back. Doesn't it?"

  Tommy shrugged. "Sure. I've known him most of my life."

  "It would be a shame if we found out you were covering for him."

  "Whoa. Covering for him? Covering what, exactly?"

  "That's what we intend to find out."

  Tommy heard a footstep close behind him. He was still holding his car door open. He had less than two seconds to make a decision. These guys were going to try to take him. He didn't know why, but he knew enough to know that wherever they were going wasn't going to be good, at least not for him.

  "Maybe you should come with us. We'll get out of the cold and into someplace warm where we can talk more about it," Kyle said.

  Tommy clutched the edge of the door and eased it forward a few inches. "Yeah, sure. Whatever I can do to help."

  He felt the man less than a foot away behind him. Suddenly, Tommy jerked the door back. It slammed into the approaching man's knee with a loud thud. The guy instinctively bent down to grab the throbbing joint. As he did, his nose met Tommy's knee on the way up. Tommy drove his leg hard, pounding the man's face with his kneecap. The blow knocked the guy onto his back on the wet street, blood instantly pouring from his face.

  Kyle stepped toward Tommy, but Tommy anticipated the move. He stepped to the side, into the open street where he could maneuver better.

  "You shouldn't have done that," Kyle said, reaching into his jacket.

  Tommy lunged at the man before he could draw his weapon and plowed his shoulder into Kyle's midsection. Caught off guard, Kyle was helpless to keep the stronger man off. Tommy's legs pumped hard as he drove the agent into the side of his car, jarring his hand from the jacket. A gun fell out of the bottom of the coat and clacked on the ground.

  The sudden impact with the car threw Kyle off for a second, but he immediately recovered and swung his elbow into Tommy's jaw.

  Tommy staggered back a step. Kyle used the moment to go on the attack. He charged, firing punch after punch at Tommy's face.

  For most of his life, Tommy had been a brawler, getting through fights with brute strength and size. Now he was leaner, faster, and stronger than before. And he'd been learning a few things on the side.

  His hands moved fast, blocking one punch, then another, and another, repeating the moves he'd learned from his trainer.

  Kyle tried a close-quarters kick, but Tommy twisted to the side and blocked it easily with his leg.

  Frustrated, Kyle lunged a little too far with his right hand. Tommy snatched the man's wrist and yanked him forward. He raised his knee and plunged it into Kyle's abdomen. As the agent doubled over, Tommy chopped down with his elbow, driving it into Kyle's lower back with such force it dropped the man to his knees.

  The guy on the other side of the car drew his weapon, but Tommy was a step ahead. He grabbed Kyle by the collar and lifted him up, holding him between the gunman and himself.

  "Drop the weapon," Tommy said.

  The other agent had an intense look in his eyes. A mixture of fear and anger—a bad combination for someone holding a gun.

  "You don't want to kill your boss, do you? So drop the weapon, and nobody gets hurt. You can go back to wherever it is you're from, and no one will be the wiser."

  The guy shook his head. "Doesn't work that way."

  Not what Tommy wanted to hear. He recognized a sense of finality in the man's voice. Also not what he wanted to hear. He instantly realized that—for these guys—failure was not an option. Their job was to bring in the mark, no matter the cost.

  "Then I guess we have ourselves a stalemate, huh?"

  The man said nothing as he continued to stare down his opponent, waiting for a slipup—a tiny mistake that would give him the clear shot.

  Tommy was careful to keep any part of his head and body out of the gunman's sights. Highly trained operatives could be deadly from short range, even with a narrow target margin.

  "Seriously, man. Put the gun down. We're both Americans. We're on the same team here. We keep standing here like this for too long, a cop or someone is going to drive by and see this whole standoff."

  On cue, a red luxury sedan approached just down the block. It was followed by a line of other vehicles.

  "See?" Tommy said, motioning to the oncoming traffic without revealing too much of his head. "If you think all of them are going to ignore this little scene, you underestimate the meddling public. One of them will call the cops. Then what will you do?"

  "Let them. We own the police. Just like we own you."

  The gunman suddenly dropped out of sight as if yanked down by a ghost. Tommy craned his neck to get a better look, still wary that the gunman could be trying to sneak around the car to get a better angle.

  "Hello?" he said. "Threatening gunman? You still there?"

  "Sorry," a familiar voice said from the other side of the car. "He's going to be out of commission for a while."

  Tommy subconsciously let go of the man in his arms, letting him drop awkwardly to the ground.

  "Sean?"

  "Yeah, it's me." Sean popped up from behind the car. He looked down the street in both directions as the cars began passing by in the two lanes. "What do you say we get out of here? Having a couple of bodies lying around is bound to get some attention."

  "Good idea." Tommy started to get in his car when he had an epiphany. "Wait. We can't just leave June here at the hotel. If these guys can track me here, they can find her, too."

  Sean bit his lower lip and nodded. "You're right. Hurry. I'll take care of these bozos."

  Tommy's head twitched to the side, curious as to how his friend was going to handle the matter of three unconscious, full-grown men on the asphalt. He decided not to ask and waited for the last of the cars to drive by before sprinting across the street and into the hotel.

  Sean worked fast. The guy he'd taken out was mostly out of view from the street, resting quietly on the sidewalk behind the right side of the car. The other two...were significantly more conspicuous. He ran around the car's back end and grabbed the guy Tommy'd been holding. With another look down both streets, Sean took the guy by the ankles and dragged him up and over the curb. He left the body next to the other one and rushed back to get the third.

  The man was starting to roll his head around, eyes cracking open as he regained consciousness.

  "Shh," Sean said. "Go back to sleep."

  He lifted the man's head and dropped it to the pavement with a sickening thud. The guy in
stantly stopped moving again.

  Sean stole another look around before hooking the guy under the armpits and dragging him around the front of the car. This time, he kept moving, tugging the body into a dark alley. When he reached a couple of garbage cans, Sean let go of the man and let him slump into a heap out of view from the street.

  He took a couple of deep breaths as he hurried back to the sidewalk to grab the next guy. His legs burned as he pulled another agent into the hiding place, the man's weight starting to strain Sean's muscles.

  "Two down," he said, wiping his forehead. Despite the frigid winter temperatures, hauling so much weight had the tendency to get one's heart rate going.

  Sean trotted back out to the street and saw more cars approaching from both directions. Fortunately, the last hit man was hidden behind Tommy's car, but not from the pedestrians walking down the sidewalk. It was a young couple, laughing and strolling hand in hand, probably enjoying the end of a lovely date. Any second now, their laughter would turn to screaming and chaos the moment they noticed the body on the concrete.

  Sean had to think fast. Remembering something he'd had to do in college for more than a few friends, he scooped up the last guy in his arms and wrapped one arm underneath the opposite armpit, holding the guy up like he'd sprained his ankle. As casually as possible, Sean took a step back and leaned against the car, pretending to rest with what he hoped appeared to be a drunk friend.

  The couple slowed down as they approached the two men. Their laughter dissipated, and they tried not to make eye contact as they passed.

  Sean smiled awkwardly at them as they passed. "He had way too much to drink," he said. "Can't believe he was actually going to try to drive home."

  The couple kept walking, only acknowledging Sean's statement with a few uncomfortable nods before they sped up and walked away.

  He looked back over the top of the car at the entrance to the hotel. "Hurry up, Tommy," he said quietly.

  Chapter 6

  Atlanta

  By the time Tommy and June appeared on the sidewalk, Sean had already dragged the last of the hit squad into the alley and dumped him with the others.

  "Took you long enough," Sean said as Tommy and June neared the car.

  June was carrying her clutch while Tommy pulled a rolling suitcase behind him.

  "I was crawling into bed," June explained. "My flight is pretty early tomorrow morning, you know."

  "Nice to see you again, June," Sean said. "Sorry for the change of plans. Seems your boyfriend ran into a little trouble."

  Tommy's eyes darted around. "Speaking of trouble, what did you do with them?"

  Sean jerked a thumb toward the dark alley. "I dumped them in there."

  "You...you just hid dead bodies in there?" June asked, more appalled than frightened.

  "They're not dead," Sean said. "At least I don't think they are. Can we talk about this in the car? I'd rather not be around when they wake up. And we need to get you to a safer place."

  "Good points," Tommy agreed. He turned to June. "Just get in. We'll figure it out on the way."

  They stuffed June's sparse luggage into the back seat and sped away, hanging a right at the next intersection, squealing tires on the wet asphalt.

  "You mind telling me what is going on?" Tommy said, steering the car down another side street.

  "I wish I knew," Sean said. He noted the direction they were heading. "Go north."

  "North?" Tommy asked.

  "Yeah. Head to Helen and Mac's place. June can crash there for the night. They'll be able to take you to the airport in the morning," Sean said, turning his attention to June in the front passenger seat.

  "Their place is like an hour from the airport?" Tommy said.

  "Would you guys mind telling me what in the world is going on?" June interrupted. "I know it's probably something to do with international villains and ancient mysteries, but what have you two done this time?"

  Tommy glanced in the rearview mirror at his friend in the back. "Sean?"

  Sean sighed. "I'm not entirely sure yet. I was working on the Seward project. Then several days ago, a group of guys approached me in Auburn, New York. They put me in the back of their SUV and drove me out to the middle of nowhere."

  "Jeez. Seriously?"

  "Unfortunately, yeah. They were government. One of them is, or was, definitely CIA. I met him a long time ago. Name is Drew Porter. Cocky young buck. First impression I got from him was ego and ambition. Looks like I wasn't too far off. I guess someone with money and secrets took him under their wing. He wanted to know why I was looking around the Seward estate."

  A momentary silence filled the car before June broke it. "Why would the CIA care about your research?"

  Sean rolled his shoulders. "No idea. But if there's one thing I do know, it's that they come after you when you've found something you weren't supposed to."

  "Why didn't you just tell them you were doing a project at the request of the president? That should have gotten their attention."

  Sean snorted. "You know, I thought the same thing. Turns out mentioning President Dawkins's involvement might have been a bad thing."

  "Why do you say that?"

  "They must not have known he was the one who made the request. As soon as I said so, they said something about eliminating him."

  "What?" June gasped.

  "Yeah. They said they're going to take out Dawkins. Which means we need to warn him."

  "Warn him?" Tommy asked.

  "Right. Only problem is, there's no way I can even get close to the president now. I've been burned."

  "Burned?” June asked. "What do you mean?"

  "It means that whoever is behind all this has wiped out my bank accounts, credit cards, everything. If I so much as set foot anywhere close to the president, I'll probably be arrested on sight."

  "Are you sure?" Tommy asked, looking back in the mirror again.

  "Yeah. I'm sure. And to make things worse, I can't get through to Emily either, which means they've infiltrated Axis, too. Whoever is pulling the strings behind all this is a major player."

  The car went silent again as Tommy guided it onto the interstate heading north. Atlanta's skyline passed by outside. New high-rise condos and apartments lined the road across from Georgia Tech. The taller buildings in Midtown climbed into the darkness, casting a dull glow on the low cloud ceiling above.

  "I wonder..." Tommy said, letting his voice trail off.

  "Wonder what?"

  "Earlier this evening I tried to pay for dinner, but my cards were declined. You don't think—"

  "They burned both of us," Sean finished the thought.

  A lump dropped from his throat into his stomach. He hadn't considered that possibility. Now he cursed himself for bringing Tommy and June into this mess, although it wasn't his fault. He had started the project thinking it was innocent enough. There was no way to know it would turn into something like this.

  "Oh no," Tommy said.

  "What?" Sean asked and then realized the issue before his friend could respond. He saw the blue lights flashing behind them. "Were you speeding?"

  Tommy shook his head. "Are you kidding? Downtown? No way. Those guys are always lurking down here. They have speed traps set up all the time."

  "That's what I was afraid of."

  "What should I do?"

  "Just be cool. If he pulls us over, just relax."

  "Easy for you to say."

  The squad car sped toward them, closing the gap rapidly.

  "He sure is in a hurry," June said, glancing in the right-side mirror.

  Tommy eased off the accelerator and flipped the blinker on, merging into the far right lane. He prepared to pull off into the emergency lane as soon as the cop was right behind them.

  Suddenly, the car with the flashing blue lights surged by them in the next lane over and zipped by. He kept going, chasing down a black Ferrari about a tenth of a mile ahead.

  The luxury sports car slowed down and pulled
off on the side of the road with the cop right behind him.

  Sean, Tommy, and June breathed a collective sigh of relief as they passed the routine traffic stop and kept going. Once they rounded the curve where I-75 and I-85 split, the blue lights disappeared from view.

  "That was close," Tommy said, his voice still trembling.

  "The sooner we get to Mac's, the better," Sean said.

  "How do you know they haven't gotten to them, too?" June asked.

  "I don't, but it's our only play right now. We need to get out of the city. Once we're at their place, we can figure out our next move."

  "Which will be what, exactly?" Tommy said. "You said yourself, no way you or I can get close enough to the president."

  "We won't have to. I've got someone else who can."

  "Adriana?" Tommy asked.

  "Yeah. She's on her way back from Madrid as we speak. I reached out to her father and asked him to relay the message. She's going to meet us at Mac's. Adriana is the only one that can reach Dawkins. He knows her and trusts her. If she tells him something is going on, he'll know what to do."

  "What about us? What do we do? Lie low until he can clear up this mess?"

  "No. If we hang around too long, eventually these guys will check all our connections. You need to get in touch with your parents. Make sure they're safe. Then we'll need to keep moving."

  "Mom and Dad are in Aruba."

  That was information Sean hadn't heard yet.

  "Aruba? What are they doing there? I thought they were getting acquainted with IAA, you know, learning about what their son has been up to for the last twenty years or so?"

  "They did all that. Said they needed some time to decompress, preferably in a warm place with beaches. So I sent them to Aruba."

  Sean raised his eyebrows. "Okay then. Good. Check that off the list. That still doesn't take care of us, though. Those guys back there, the ones who came after me, they'll find us again. It's only a matter of time."

  "I guess that only leaves one thing for us to do," Tommy said, reading Sean's mind.

  "Yep. We have to figure out what these guys are hiding. The letter from Seward was pretty cryptic."