Deadly Intent: An Action Thriller (Adrian Hell Series Book 4)

by Sumner, James P.

  We make our way over to one of the largest buildings around, which I take as their main office, and stop out front. We all pile out of the car and, as I stand and stretch, I see Tori and Josh waiting for us. My girl runs over, jumping up, and wrapping herself around me. I kiss her with as much passion as I can, and guide her to the ground. Josh follows behind her, holding a laptop. We shake hands, and the group exchange pleasantries all around before heading inside to Schultz’s office, where we sit around a large conference table, and proceed to catch everyone up with what we know, right up to the point where we left Fort Benning.

  “So the CIA agreed to let you all go?” asks Josh. “Just like that?”

  Schultz squirms awkwardly in his seat at the question, and doesn’t immediately answer.

  “Yeah, Ryan…” I say. “What was the story with us getting out of there?”

  He hesitates another moment, his gaze rapidly flitting around the room, seeing everyone staring back at him.

  “I spoke to a guy at the CIA,” he says. “I was given him as a contact when I was going back and forth with the goddamn NSA. I said that, under the circumstances, they can’t justify holding GlobaTech responsible for anything now that they’ve announced to the world El-Zurak has been captured. The guy didn’t exactly admit what they’ve done, but he said they still need to be seen to be bringing the people responsible to justice.”

  “Sorry if I’m missing something,” says Raynor. “But I thought they’d done that already?”

  “They still have a whole lot of paperwork that we know they can’t own up to, that says the people in this room played a large part in it all. They have to justify their intel should there be an investigation.”

  My spider sense starts tingling. I look around the room at everyone. Schultz is sitting at the far end, looking flustered and out of breath. On his left, Tori looks tired, like she’s spent a long time crying. She must be running on fumes right now, the poor thing. Next to her, Josh is sitting upright, tense, and alert, listening to Schultz, and by the look on his face, the cogs are turning inside his head—always thinking. His laptop is on the table in front of him with the lid closed.

  Wallis is next to him, and Freeman is at the opposite end to Schultz, both looking positively disinterested, which I can understand, from their point of view—Wallis is back in the FBI’s good books, so there’s no pressure on him anymore. They’ll just be anxious to get back to work and put it all behind them. Opposite Tori, on my left, is Raynor, who still looks like he’s trying to wrap his head around everything. He’s a smart man, but he’s old school. He likes to take his time with things, and I think this is taking a bit longer than normal to process, which again, is understandable.

  Then there’s me. No official ties to the real world, apart from a bar in desperate need of renovating in a backwater town in Texas. No affiliation with any government agency… out of everyone in this room, I’m the one with the least to lose.

  Maybe I’m just being paranoid…

  “I got them to agree that no one associated with GlobaTech in any capacity will be held accountable for anything that’s happened,” continues Schultz. “They’re dropping any charges against this company, and releasing all of the assets they seized back to us. We’re business as usual, effective immediately.”

  “What about me?” asks Tori, speaking for the first time since we all sat down. “I don’t work for you.”

  “Sweetheart, you were the victim of a kidnapping by a known terrorist—you’re fine.”

  “And me?” asks Raynor.

  “You were a consultant, acting in an advisory capacity because of your knowledge and experience in dealing with the terrorists,” says Schultz. “You’re fine too.”

  The room goes silent, and Schultz shifts uneasily in his chair. Josh leans forward, pushing his laptop further out in front of him and resting his elbows on the table.

  “And what about Adrian?” he asks.

  Everyone looks at me, and I look up at Schultz. I already know the answer to this question…

  “Tell them, Ryan,” I say. “It’s okay. It’s not your fault. I brought it on myself.”

  “Tell us what?” asks Tori, her voice quivering slightly with emotion as she turns to Schultz.

  He sits up in his chair and fidgets with his hands in front of him, searching for the words.

  “They… ah… they said—”

  “They said that because I killed over twenty NSA agents, and a couple of CIA guys to boot, I get to be guilty of pretty much whatever they want,” I say, interrupting him. “Am I right?”

  Schultz sighs heavily. I get up and walk around the table, taking a deep breath as I head over to stand next to him.

  “Adrian…” says Tori as she stands and walks over to me. “Can’t you just go to the authorities? Explain what happened? You have proof that things weren’t what they thought… they’ll believe you.”

  I can hear the desperation in her voice, and it makes my heart hurt knowing she cares so much for me.

  I look at Schultz. “Give me the flash drive with the evidence on it,” I say to him.

  Reluctantly, he hands it over. It’s small, maybe three inches long and an inch wide. It’s like a fat pen—gray plastic with a cap that you unclip to reveal the USB connector. I regard it for a moment in my hand before pocketing it.

  “I can’t turn myself in, baby,” I say to Tori, showing her the flash drive. “This evidence proves the CIA masterminded a terrorist attack on American soil. It’d bring the whole country to its knees in minutes. Realistically, this information can’t ever come out. But the threat of it coming out is enough to give me some space, should the CIA get too close to me. But they’re going to make me public enemy number one, and the only thing I can do about that is run. I’m gonna have a lot of people looking for me for a long time... This evidence is my protection.”

  I put my hand on her head and hold her close to me.

  I look at Josh, hoping he has something insightful to say that will make everything alright. Just as he’s about to say something, his laptop starts beeping, and everyone turns to him. He frowns and opens it up, examining the screen.

  “That can’t be right…” he mutters after a moment.

  “What is it?” I ask.

  “You saw Cunningham’s press conference, right? After he said Cerberus had been decommissioned, I ran a program to try to hack the mainframe. I figured all the security would be down, and it’d be easy to walk right in. It was a shot in the dark, but I was seeing if there was any information from the attacks stored on there that we could use to help further prove what really happened.”

  “Sounds like a good idea,” I say. “Did you find anything?”

  “Well, no… that’s the strange thing—the program didn’t work because all the security is still in place.” He looks up but silence greets him. “Which means Cerberus isn’t deactivated,” he explains.

  Freeman stands and walks behind him. “But the president himself said it was,” he says. “That makes no sense.”

  “Exactly,” agrees Josh. “Why would he lie? Just give me a minute here.” He falls silent, as he rapidly taps away on the keyboard, and we all exchange confused glances. “The servers are fully functional, which means so is the satellite,” he says. “Which means someone has to be in control. I’m trying to trace where the servers are being accessed from now.”

  “Surely it’ll be from ComForce?” asks Raynor. “That’s where it’s all based, right?”

  “It is, but that building’s on lockdown, and still likely surrounded by the media. No way could a team big enough and smart enough to operate a satellite get in without anyone asking any questions.”

  “So it’s being accessed remotely?” I ask.

  “Yup,” he says as his laptop beeps again. “And it’s being accessed from…”

  He’s silent for a moment, transfixed on the screen with his jaw slackened in clear surprise.

  “Josh…?” I ask.

 
; He looks up, with a bewildered expression on his face. “It’s being accessed from the White House.”

  A palpable silence falls in the room. My mind is screaming at a million miles an hour in every direction—a thousand snippets of information come flooding to the forefront of my brain all at once. I pace up and down the room, trying to make some sense of the chaos inside my head.

  Someone in the White House is using Cerberus right now...

  The president lied about scrapping the satellite...

  “This doesn’t make any sense,” says Wallis.

  I hold up my hand straight away. “Quiet, I’m thinking…”

  I feel everyone’s eyes look at me. I’m standing near the door, and I turn to face the room. I meet Josh’s gaze, seeing his cogs working like mine.

  The president lied…

  He also said they’d captured El-Zurak, which was bullshit. I assumed Matthews had told him that, as part of his master plan, but what if he didn’t?

  What if President Cunningham knew El-Zurak was already dead? He certainly put a very good spin on it for the media. I know the guy’s good, but was that speech a little too rehearsed? Or am I reading too much into it?

  Matthews’ plan was extravagant to say the least. Could he have done it alone? It’s possible, I guess. But it would’ve been a lot easier with approval…

  My paranoia is giving way to reason, and the more I think about things, the more it makes sense.

  “This was a set-up,” I say. “From day one.”

  “We know,” says Wallis. “Matthew’s admitted it to us, and you have the evidence.”

  “I know, but Matthews lied about one thing.”

  Josh slams his fist on the desk, startling everyone. “Cunningham…” he says slowly.

  “The president?” asks Raynor. “Are you saying he knows about what the CIA did?”

  “I think he’s more than just aware of it,” I say. “I think he’s behind it. All of it. I think Matthews was a pawn.”

  Freeman stands and walks over the window opposite, staring out momentarily at the expanse of GlobaTech’s empire before turning to face me.

  “Adrian, that’s a pretty big claim,” he says. “And you have no evidence. I know you’re facing a lifetime on the run from the CIA, but don’t you think you’re clutching at straws here?”

  I shake my head. “Look at the facts, and the logic,” I say. “Cerberus was commissioned by Cunningham to be built by NASA and GlobaTech, right? We already know features were added to it afterward, giving it the capability to steal other country’s nuclear weapons… who would have authorized that? Since he was elected, Cunningham’s made these amazing changes, and given the U.S. an unrivalled time of prosperity. But how did he do that? I remember reading up on it days ago. It was unprecedented having such a massive reshuffle in the White House—he appointed his own directors in the CIA, FBI, NSA… he appointed new people in every position in the National Security Council—including the Secretary of Defense.” I cast a mostly-sympathetic look over to Schultz, who’s listening intently to what I’m saying.

  “Once he’d done that, he then legalized cocaine and prostitution. No president in history has even dared to think about doing something like that, yet he suggested it, and it was almost unanimously approved… as soon as he did that, it took a couple of months to pretty much stop all crime. No more drug cartels, because we’re suddenly selling coke over the counter at the local Seven-Eleven. Then, I come along and stumble across a cartel running guns for the CIA. Matthews himself admitted it was perfect using them, because no one would ever look for one if they suspected anything, as they’re not meant to exist anymore.”

  “Cunningham’s behind everything, isn’t he?” asks Josh, somewhat rhetorically.

  I shrug. “I think so,” I say. “I think this is a very clever and very elaborate plan, made and implemented by nothing more than a glorified dictator.”

  “But there’s still no hard evidence,” Freeman persists. “Without proof, we have nothing more than the CIA’s admission of guilt.”

  “Stop thinking like a federal agent, Freeman. The fact there’s no evidence is actually proof. The president’s too clean. There’s no way the Director of the CIA could organize all this on his own without the President of the United States either finding out or approving it. Wallis, you heard Matthew’s speech back in Atlanta… Either he’d been at the Cunningham Kool-Aid, or he was quoting someone else’s vision. I think the president’s behind all of this.”

  Silence falls again as everyone processes what I’ve said, running it through their own mind to see if it makes enough sense to believe. Josh is staring unblinkingly at his laptop.

  “Adrian, if Cunningham is in charge of Cerberus…” he says.

  I nod regrettably. “I know, Josh. He’s essentially used it once, so we know he’s got no problem sacrificing anything to achieve his goal of creating a brave, new world for us all. He’s crippled the planet, made himself the most powerful man alive, and currently has access to every remaining nuclear warhead on Earth.”

  “Oh my God…” says Tori, who’s gone very pale. “What do we do?”

  “This has a very end of the world feel to it, Boss,” says Josh, looking more worried than I’ve seen him in a long time.

  “We still need to find—” starts Freeman, but I cut him off.

  “If you say evidence of the conspiracy one more time, I’m going to shoot you.”

  I pace back and forth once again, as I play out every scenario in my head. Twice. After a few minutes, I stand and face the room, letting out a heavy sigh. I look at each one of them in turn.

  “I can only think of one way out of this,” I say.

  I put my hand in my pocket, feeling the USB drive as I walk to the window for a moment, replaying everything one last time in my head, to make sure I’ve not missed anything; knowing I’ve not, I turn and face them all once more.

  “I have to kill the President of the United States.”

  THE END

  Dear Reader,

  Thank you for downloading my book, and I hope you enjoyed it!

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  James P. Sumner

  (http://www.jamespsumner.com/)

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  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  James P. Sumner was born in 1982, in Stockport, UK. He's married with a son, and currently lives in Bury, UK. His "other" job is as a full-time Account Manager for a large, international company.

  An avid reader from a young age, his heart has always been in writing. In July 2013, he began work on his first novel. After some trial and error, he published his debut thriller himself on Amazon, and hasn't looked back!

  His second novel, Hunter’s Games, was a #1 bestseller in the Amazon UK Pulp Thriller charts, and every entry of his Adrian Hell series is a permanent fixture in the Top 20.

  When he's not writing, he's either reading (usually thrillers or comic books), cheering on his beloved Manchester City (come on you Blues!), or enjoying one of the many TV shows he follows religiously—he's a big fan of Game of Thrones! You may also spot the influences in his work from other shows like Strike Back and Banshee!

  OTHER TITLES BY THE SAME AUTHOR

  You can visit my website, at www.jamespsumner.com, to find out more about my other books, as well as find the links to download them.

  THE ADRIAN HELL SERIES

  True Conviction

  Hunter’s Games

  One Last Bullet

 
; Deadly Intent

  THE ADRIAN HELL: ORIGINS SERIES

  A Hero Of War

  DON’T MISS THE NEXT ADRIAN HELL THRILLER

  A NECESSARY KILL

  COMING

  SOON

  Visit www.jamespsumner.com and sign up to the mailing list to receive the latest updates on new releases.