Red Phoenix: A Thomas Caine Thriller (The Thomas Caine Series Book 2)

by Andrew Warren

  Caine shook his head. “There’s nothing to say. I'm not asking you for anything, I just wanted you to know. Is there any news on Sean?”

  She stared at him for a moment, still processing his words. Then she brushed a strand of copper hair from her face. “The exchange is scheduled to take place tomorrow. Sun Wai Tong was transferred to a facility in Egypt. He’ll be released from there, to minimize U.S. involvement. And there's more good news … the GEA was signed by all parties. David Fang’s factories will be closed for non-compliance. The Chinese government has declared Huagu an environmental emergency site. They'll be providing medical and clean-up assistance to the inhabitants there.

  Caine nodded. “Sounds like a good start.”

  “I understand Sean chose to stay behind to make sure the agreement passed?”

  “Yeah. He takes after his father. TANGENT was erased, and the database was uploaded to the internet. It proves Sun Wai Tong didn’t hack the NSA. He never had any intel to recover. There’s no reason for anyone to block the exchange now.”

  Rebecca smiled. “Brave guy. So the database is public? Not exactly how I would have handed it."

  “I told you, protecting the NSA’s dirty laundry wasn’t my priority,” Caine said. “Before, on the phone, you said you were attacked. Lapinski escaped?”

  Rebecca lowered her voice. “The man who attacked us was another private security contractor, a military vet. Then we dug a little deeper.”

  “Let me guess,” Caine said. “Scorpion Unit.”

  “Got it in one. How did you know?”

  “Scorpion Unit is NSA’s Special Forces team. If Lapinski had to clean up a mess, it makes sense that’s who he would call.”

  Rebecca shook her head. “Lapinski didn’t call them, or at least I don’t think he did. When I mentioned that I’d spoken to John Blayne, he was terrified. He said there was someone else behind this. Someone above him in the intelligence community. I think Scorpion Unit was there to eliminate him. He was the mess they were sent to clean up.”

  “Could John Blayne be behind all this?” Caine asked. He turned his gaze to the small building where Jia had taken her daughter.

  “Lapinski didn’t know. But Blayne is the Director of National Intelligence. He’s connected to high-ranking members of every intelligence service in the country.”

  “Which means if he knew you were about to expose Ted, and he leaked the info …”

  “It could be almost anyone. Blayne, or anyone he's connected to.”

  “We have to find Lapinski!” Caine snarled.

  She nodded. “I've got people on it, but the NSA isn’t exactly eager to help—”

  A woman’s shriek echoed from inside the tiny building. Josh sprinted towards Rebecca, drawing his pistol with his left hand. The other men fanned out around her in a circle as Caine charged towards the building.

  The MP threw open the door and Jia stumbled out, carrying Lian in her arms. The child’s face was pale. Her eyes were closed.

  She wasn’t moving.

  “What happened?” Caine shouted.

  “She just passed out; she’s not breathing!” Jia screamed. She placed a hand on the girl’s cheeks. “Her face, it’s cold. Oh my God, they must have given her something, they drugged her, or …”

  She glared up at Rebecca. “If anything happens to my daughter I swear I will—”

  “Someone call an ambulance,” Rebecca shouted, cutting her off.

  “Already on the way,” Josh replied. “We should get you out of here. Now!”

  A loud siren rose in the distance. Caine turned and saw a military ambulance rushing towards them.

  “Rebecca, he’s right, go. I’ll ride with her, you can send your detail to follow us.”

  The ambulance pulled to a stop, and its rear doors swung open. Caine leapt into the back with the paramedics. The MP helped Jia in after him. She cradled the unconscious Lian in her arms, refusing to let go.

  Rebecca turned her head and met Caine's eyes. He bit his lip and looked away. He could not meet her questioning gaze. Then Josh blocked her view as he grabbed her chair and wheeled her towards her SUV.

  The ambulance's lights and siren screamed to life as it drove away from the building.

  An hour later, Rebecca sat outside the base’s Military Police station. A light breeze blew through her hair. The sun hung low and fat on the horizon, bathing the trees and buildings in a deep orange glow.

  An SUV pulled up in front of her and Josh got out. He walked up to her, a troubled look in his eyes. “You shouldn’t be out here alone. Where’s the rest your detail?”

  She sighed. “They’re inside. I slipped out the side door. Needed some fresh air. It smells like old coffee and motor oil in there.”

  Josh struggled to keep an angry look plastered on his face, but he couldn’t help smiling. “Well, it’s about to smell worse, ‘cause someone is gonna get their ass chewed out big time over this.”

  “No sign of them?” Rebecca asked.

  Josh shook his head. “Oh, there’s plenty of signs … They found the ambulance on the outskirts of the base. The MP assigned to them was inside, unconscious. The paramedics were tied up and blindfolded. They think the woman, this ‘Red Phoenix,’ administered a sedative to the girl in the bathroom. The whole thing was planned. There’s no record of them leaving the base, cameras didn’t see anything, but …”

  “Forget it. He’s long gone.” Rebecca looked up at him and bit her lip. Her long crimson hair reflected the orange glow of the setting sun. “It’s my fault. I should have known better.”

  “We’ll find him. I’ll call it in, get a surveillance order on—”

  “Don’t bother,” she said, cutting him off. “Just find Lapinski.”

  “What about Caine?”

  “If you find Ted Lapinski, I guarantee you’ll find Caine. He’s going after him.”

  “Why would he do that?”

  Rebecca looked up at the sky. The setting sun had turned the rolling clouds into a mosaic of fiery orange and pink.

  “I told him about the attack, at the farmhouse. He thinks he’s protecting me.”

  Josh looked her in the eye. “Is there something I should know? What’s the story with you two anyway?”

  Rebecca rolled over to the SUV and waited as the lift for her chair lowered itself to the ground.

  “There is no story. Not anymore.”

  Josh stared at her for a moment, then walked over to the driver’s side. “Whatever you say, Boss,” he muttered to himself.

  He got into the SUV and slammed the door shut. They drove off the base in silence.

  Chapter Forty-Eight

  Ted Lapinski fumbled with his keys as he opened the lock to the tiny motel room. He had always known he might have to flee. He had lived with the threat of exposure, the fear of discovery for years. In some ways, this was a relief. He was finally out. It was ironic, but as a fugitive in hiding, he could finally stop worrying that someone would discover his greatest secret.

  And his family … Teddy Junior. Julie, his wife. She had never known, never really understood him. They were better off without him now. Safer.

  As the door’s lock clicked open, he pulled his cell phone from his pocket.

  There were no messages.

  Ted looked around the parking lot. The tiny strip of motel rooms sat alongside the 110W freeway in Baltimore, Maryland. It was late, but the traffic on the busy highway roared by. Car after car whizzed past, each on their way to an infinite number of destinations in the night.

  The parking lot was empty save for a few nondescript sedans and a pair of Harley Davidson motorcycles. Lights from the motel beamed down on the vehicles and cast long, dark shadows over the rest of the empty lot.

  Nothing moved in the shadows. The vehicles were empty. He was alone.

  Ted had paid cash for the motel room. The car he had used in his flight was registered to a fake identity, one he had created for just such a purpose. Sooner or later, he knew,
he would be spotted, traced. It was impossible to disappear in this day and age. He knew that better than anyone. But the more distance he could put between himself and his pursuers, the more time he had.

  There was something he needed. Something he had been promised.

  I WANT THE VIDEOS, he typed into the phone.

  The phone was silent. There was no response.

  “Son of a bitch!” Ted hissed as he opened the door and stepped into the dark room.

  I DID AS YOU ASKED, he tapped. YOU PROMISED TO RELEASE THEM TO ME.

  He closed the door behind him. The glow of the tiny cell phone screen was the only light in the pitch-black darkness of the room. From the corner of his eye he saw his unmade bed, the sheets a rumpled, tangled mess. Lime green curtains covered the front windows, which faced out towards the parking lot. The muted roar of the freeway traffic echoed through the small room.

  He stared at the phone. There was still no response.

  “Motherfucker,” he grunted through clenched teeth. He tossed the phone on the bed.

  As the small screen of light flew through the room, he glimpsed movement to his left. He reached for the pistol tucked into his waistband.

  His fingers wrapped around the butt of his tiny Smith & Wesson Bodyguard .380. Before he could aim, he felt an arm wrap around his neck and pull backwards. He stumbled back as another hand grabbed the wrist of his shooting hand. His wrist twisted back and he screamed as he felt the bones in his hand snap. The pistol tumbled to the floor.

  His attacker spun him around. Ted ducked his head low and threw a punch towards the shadowy figure standing before him.

  Instead of falling back, the figure darted in close and threw up an elbow. The explosive movement blocked Ted’s punch. The elbow drove forward, cracking into his jaw.

  As his head snapped back, he felt a powerful kick slam into his gut. He stumbled away from his attacker, gasping for air. He felt himself trip, and fall, landing in the small, worn chair that sat in front of the room’s tiny desk. The springs in the chair creaked in protest as they compressed under his weight.

  Before he could stand, he heard a familiar metallic click ring out. It was the slide on his pistol, racking back. A bright red dot pierced through the darkness and crawled up Ted’s shirt. It flared across his eyes, then landed at his forehead.

  His Smith and Wesson pistol was equipped with an integrated laser sight.

  “I wouldn’t do that, Ted.” It was a man’s voice. “Why don’t you have a seat.”

  The room’s light clicked on. Ted found himself staring into a pair of cold, emerald-green eyes perched above the chiseled lines of a clenched jaw. The man was holding the pistol. It was aimed at his head.

  “Do you know who I am?” the man asked.

  Ted nodded. “Rebecca’s asset in China. Caine. I thought you were dead.”

  Caine’s lips curled into a cold, humorless smirk. “Do I look dead to you, Lapinski?”

  Ted’s eyes darted towards the door, then back to Caine. "How did you find me?”

  “Oh, I had a little help from a friend. Her name is Betty Binary. You should get her resume. I think she might be better at facial recognition than some of your TAO boys.” Caine sat down on the bed, never taking his eyes off the terrified NSA operative.

  “Okay, okay,” Ted babbled. “I get it, you want to kill me, but—”

  “No, you’re wrong about that.”

  Ted slumped in the chair and breathed a sigh of relief. “That’s good. Smart. Look, I can help you. I know things, I—”

  Caine’s eyes blazed above the pistol, silencing Ted with the power of their intense stare. “I said I don’t want to kill you, Ted. I can’t speak for her, though.”

  Ted heard movement behind him. Before he could turn his head, a black silken cord looped around his neck. With a soft hiss, it pulled tight.

  His hands shot up to his throat. He clawed at the cord, but he could not loosen it. He gasped for breath. His face began to turn a pale blue color.

  The cord pulled tighter and yanked backwards. He felt the chair tipping back. He tumbled over and collapsed to the ground. The cord bit deeper into his neck. His bulging eyes stared up into a woman’s face. Her mouth was a hard slash, and her eyes were two black pools of rage. She was dressed in her usual tactical gear, minus the hood and goggles.

  It was her …

  “Red Phoenix reporting,” she hissed.

  “No, please!” he gurgled.

  “Ne nuoruo de gou!” she said, twisting the cord tighter. “My daughter is only six years old. Do you know how scared she must have been? How does it feel, you piece of shit? Will you piss yourself before you take your last breath?”

  Caine stepped into view. “You went after her kid, asshole. I wouldn’t expect any mercy there. Your best bet is to make yourself useful.” He nodded towards Jia. “You were running her, but someone else was running you. You were texting them just now, weren’t you. Who’s pulling your strings?”

  The strangling cord turned his reply into a meaningless series of croaks and squeals.

  “Jia, let him talk,” Caine said. She glared up at him, but then loosened her grip on the cord. Color rushed into Ted’s cheeks. He sucked in a lungful of air with a rattling wheeze.

  “Last chance, Lapinski. Who was running you?”

  “I don’t know, I swear!”

  Caine’s eyes narrowed as he held up the pistol and aimed it again at Ted’s face. “Bullshit,” he said.

  “I swear it’s true, I don’t know who they are. They had video of me. Doing things. A bar, in DC. Men … go there. They threatened to show my boss, my wife … I would have been compromised. I would have lost everything.”

  “You’re going to have to do better than that,” Caine growled.

  “It had to be someone in the intelligence community. Someone high up. They knew about Rebecca, about you. And …” He looked up at Caine. “Bernatto … they must have been close to Bernatto.”

  “Why do you say that?” Caine snapped. His voice was cold and sharp, like a blade of ice.

  “They knew about Red Phoenix … I mean, her.” Ted looked up at Jia. “The kid. They knew everything. Only Bernatto had those details.”

  Jia’s lips curled into a snarl. She slid a knife from a sheath on her combat harness. The metal gleamed in the dim light of the motel room. She pressed the blade against the skin of Ted’s cheek. A drop of crimson blood sprouted from his flesh and flowed down the knife’s razor-sharp edge.

  “Give us something we can use, or I will skin you alive, yikuai fenbian!”

  “I have records … I erased all our texts, but I kept an encrypted backup. I’ll turn them over, I can help you find them!”

  Jia looked up at Caine. An unspoken question softened the rage in her wide, dark eyes.

  Caine thought for a moment, then nodded. Jia released the cord from Ted’s neck. Again, the NSA operative sucked in lungfuls of air as Caine held up a cellphone. He kneeled down, bringing the phone close to Ted’s face.

  He tapped the phone, and a picture of Rebecca filled the screen. “Rebecca Freeling,” he said. He swiped again, and the image was replaced by a picture. Jia’s daughter.

  “Lian Zhao,” Jia said in a solemn voice.

  Caine swiped again, and the picture was replaced by an image of Sean.

  “Sean Tyler. These people are under our protection. And you’d better hope that from this point on, they lead charmed lives. Because if anything, and I mean anything happens to them …”

  Caine pressed the barrel of the gun into Ted’s temple.

  “If my daughter so much as catches cold, I will hunt you,” Jia hissed. She dragged the knife down the length of his body. The razor-sharp blade hovered a fraction of an inch above his skin, slicing through his clothes as if they were tissue paper.

  The point of the blade stopped between his legs.

  “I will find you,” she whispered into his ear. “And I will make you beg me for death. I will take my time
with you.” She tilted her head and blinked. “Do you understand?”

  “I get it! I get it!” Ted looked from her to Caine with pleading eyes. “Please, don’t let her—”

  “You’re going to turn yourself over to Rebecca Freeling at the CIA,” Caine said. “You’re going to hand over your computers, all your records. Whatever info you have on these people. But most importantly, you’re going to remember something. Something you can’t ever forget.”

  “What, what are you talking about?” Ted stuttered.

  “Who’s running you?” Caine demanded.

  “I told you, I don’t know, I—”

  Caine slammed the butt of the pistol down on Ted’s nose. There was a loud crack as the delicate cartilage inside snapped and cracked. The man moaned in pain as blood sprayed across his shredded shirt.

  “Wrong answer. Now think carefully. Who is running you?”

  Caine’s green eyes glowered down at him, like jewels lit by the fires of the sun. Ted nodded his head. He understood.

  “You are,” he whimpered. “You’re running me.”

  Jia stood and looked down at him, a snarl of contempt marring her beautiful features. “Do not ever forget this,” she said.

  “We’ll be in touch,” Caine added. “And Ted, if you’re thinking of running again? You should know I tracked Allan Bernatto across three countries. I can find you across a few state lines in my sleep.”

  Ted nodded, panting for breath. He heard the door open. The light switched off, and the door closed. They were gone.

  He was left gasping in the darkness.

  The tiny runway at Frederick Municipal Airport was dark, save for a few lights spaced along the thirty-six-hundred-foot strip of concrete. The airfield cut through a rural, tree-lined field about an hour away from Baltimore. Frederick County was a sleepy, quiet town. There was no sign of activity in the collection of hangers and buildings that surrounded the runway.

  A cool, light mist filled the night air. Caine peered through the windshield of his rental sedan, scanning the trees and buildings for any sign of movement.

  “We’re clear," he said.