He then turned and walked away out of the squeaky door of the arena. Mia had her orders. It was time to play the game.
After getting dressed and picking up her suitcase, Mia left the Arena through the side entrance of the building and headed off towards her car in the underground parking lot. On route, she called the most expensive hotel in Front Street Manhattan and booked a penthouse room overlooking the Hudson River for the next couple of nights. She was all set, right up to the point of getting to the floor where her car was parked.
“Shit!!” thought Mia.
As she looked around the car park, she could see that her car was no longer there.
“Where the hell is it?” she thought. “I need my car!”
She started walking around the rest of the parking lot looking for another suitable car. This was a long- term parking garage so there were plenty of high-end cars around. Out of the corner of her eye, she spotted a beautiful maroon Aston Martin Vanquish just sticking out from beneath a cover.
“Now that looks like fun” she thought to herself.
From her suitcase, she retrieved a small control box which was a frequency scanner. Within seconds, it had found the frequency of the alarm on the car and disabled it. She loaded her suitcase into the trunk but before closing up she retrieved a set of number plates from the base of her case and quickly changed them on the Aston. Before long, she was out in the city, heading towards the freeway.
Although there was usually no contact made by Mia to the Arena during a job, she had to arrange for new number plates for the car. Using her hands-free headset, she used her cell phone to call in to her contact desk. It was an odd cell phone as it only had one number programmed into it. When she got through, she gave the make and model, as well as the original number plate to the operator. She told the operator she needed 4 sets of plates and gave the details of the hotel she would be staying at. By the time Mia got to the hotel, the plates would be waiting for her at the reception.
The drive to Manhattan wasn’t actually too bad for a change. The car Mia had taken was perfectly suited to her. She had initially intended to abandon the car somewhere in Brooklyn but she liked it that much, she decided that this would now be her car! She knew that the New Jersey Turnpike would be jammed solid at this time of the day so, instead of risking it, she peeled off and headed towards the Staten Island Ferry Port. This was the easiest way into Manhattan. Mia knew of a safe underground parking lot in Brooklyn where she could park the car, then take a walk past the target area before heading across Brooklyn Bridge to the hotel. Everything was calculated and running according to her plan.
Within the hour, Mia was in her penthouse suite opening the package she picked up at reception with her number plates. After setting her rifle up, she opened the bay windows of the suite and took a look through her 'scope. She had a clear line of sight to the target area. The only problem she could see was that there were no wind indicators for her to calculate the shot with. Thankfully, she had plenty of time to arrange something as the job wasn’t until tomorrow evening. She hid her rifle in the wardrobe and went out for a walk to the subject area. On route, she passed a small souvenir shop. From there, she bought an 'I LOVE NY' neck scarf. After a leisurely walk across the bridge, she decided to have a cup of coffee in the coffee shop to survey the area. She got her coffee to go and, while looking around the area, she found a place out of sight to attach the scarf to without anyone finding it. It was a large clump of bushes. From there she could see her hotel room so she knew it was a perfect spot.
Once it was in place, Mia sat down by the river front and watched the world go by. Although she felt like she was still trapped, she couldn’t stop thinking about making her escape from the Arena. What really confused her was that, despite everything she now knew, she felt an immense surge of loyalty towards them. She didn’t understand why, but she knew she would have to return there after the job was done, regardless. It was strange. These people who had been keeping her captive, she felt that it was her duty to return to them. After about an hour of watching, she decided to take a walk before she had something to eat. She walked across the bridge back into Manhattan and up towards Police Plaza. As she walked across the pedestrian zone, she could see that outside Federal Plaza on the other side of the zone, there was an ambulance outside the front doors. She didn’t think anything of it and carried on towards Chinatown for something to eat.
Chapter 12
The Awakening
“Hank! Hank! Talk to me buddy” boomed an unfamiliar voice.
Hank started to open his eyes but could only see a bright light being flashed into his eyes. Unknown to him, it was a paramedic checking his pupil dilation. Hank was sitting in a chair by this time with lots of people around him. As it turned out, the department manager and the receptionist had called an ambulance after he fainted just to be on the safe side. Hank still had the thought of panic going through his head. Once he realised that he had fainted, he remembered what he had read on the screen. Only a few minutes had passed and he was up on his feet and feeling better. Not great, but better.
“I don’t know what came over me there. I think it’s the heat in this place” he said to the paramedic.
“I think you’re finished for the day Hank” said the department manager. “On the top floor of the building we have some small single bedrooms for people to use when necessary. I’ve arranged for you to have one for this evening as you’re not in a fit state to drive.”
“OK thanks” he replied and stumbled off towards the elevators trying not to let on that his legs felt like they were made out of jello.
When he reached the room, he fell face first onto the bed. He didn’t even try to break his fall. He was borderline catatonic with what was going on in his head. As he lay there, he thought back to a dark place he didn’t visit very often. His wife’s funeral. He remembered the day clearly as it was the most traumatic thing he had ever had to face. Her passing had been something he never thought he would get over as he didn’t get to say goodbye before they buried her. She had been killed by an explosive so it was the sealed casket that hurt Hank. He never got to see her face again. Both of them had worked for the NSA a few years ago but in separate departments. Once she died, Hank decided to transfer to the FBI. As it was poor intelligence from the NSA that lead to Laura's death that was something he couldn’t forgive them for. Now, there was the possibility that she was alive and that the whole thing was fake and she was killing people!
“What? Why? Who?” were the words circulating in his head.
After an hour of going round in circles, Hank decided he needed some fresh air. He left the building and went on the hunt for a coffee shop as he hadn’t had a decent cup all day. He needed the familiarity and comfort of a decent cup to bring him back to the world. Within the first few mouthfuls, he felt better. He got out his cell phone and punched in the number for the boss. Hank hadn’t realised that it was now nine o’clock at night but by the time he did, the phone was ringing. He expected to have to leave a message but was taken aback when the boss actually answered. He apologised for calling so late but then went straight into telling him what he had found. The boss went silent on the other end of the phone and just let Hank get it all out.
After a few moments the boss said to him “Hank, don’t take this personal, or consider this a question over your ability as a Special Agent, but are you too close to this to carry on with it?”
It was now Hank’s turn to go silent.
After a brief pause, he replied “No, I can do this one”.
His voice had firmed up at this point and he said it with confidence.
“OK Hank, I need you back at the office tonight for a debrief on what you've told me and in the meantime I’ll make some calls to see if I can uncover what’s going on.”
“I need to make a stop on the way” said Hank “so I’ll be a couple of hours. See you then.”
The phone went dead and Hank headed off back towards Federal Pla
za to collect his car.
On the way out of the city, Hank headed north towards Weehawken and back to Taylor's apartment. When he got there, he still wasn’t feeling one hundred percent which was evident by Taylor greeting him at the door saying “You don’t look too great.” Inside the apartment, Taylor handed Hank a brown file.
“Have you ever heard of project M.I.A. Hank?” asked Taylor.
Hank shook his head as he didn’t have a clue.
“All of your dead people worked on a government project called M.I.A. for a department called The Arena. I can’t find out what agency they were working for, but what I can tell you is that they were working on a very hush-hush project. This was to create a silent assassin who couldn’t be traced by law enforcement and would be key in protecting the internal affairs of the United States. The details available are quite vague, but it does mention keeping their assassin under control when not in use, almost in a vegetative state and activating them with a serum called LP76.”
Hank took a deep breath and asked “Where are they based?”
“I can’t find that out Hank but, from previous knowledge of government departments like this, I would say DC.”
Hank took a moment and asked “But why kill these specific people? What had they done?”
“Well, that’s the kicker Hank, all three had left the department and were working for civilian companies. They were all members of an anti-government protest group called Freespeak and they were about to go public with the details of the Arena team. Looks like they’ve basically been assassinated for attempting to speak out.”
Hank was well into his stride now on putting the pieces together. “Did you find any details of the assassin in your research?”
“I think I have” replied Taylor. “They refer in their text about subject L.R. and how their medical team put her back together after a serious accident. They detail bone and facial reconstruction, and other medical jargon. From what I can see Hank, this L.R. probably doesn’t even know that they’re doing it. For probably ninety percent of their life this person is a vegetable.”
“Christ!!” thought Hank. “Any idea who is running it all?”
“Yes and no” replied Taylor. “From what I can see, it’s being managed by a Dr Cooper but I can’t find anything on this guy anywhere. He’s a ghost and properly off the grid. To be honest Hank, I would leave this one well alone. People like this, being so secret and having assassins working for them, are not the sort of people to be screwed around with.”
Taylor seemed on edge when he said this, as if he had just realised how deep this actually went.
“Thanks for the help with this Taylor. I promise none of this will ever find its way back to you” Hank said, while extending his hand for a handshake.
As he returned it, Taylor said “Oh, and one last thing. There is mention of a house in Alexandria, south of DC. I’ve got no idea the significance, but they refer to it quite a lot so maybe that’ll give you a lead.”
With a nod of his head, Hank walked out of the apartment and hit the road back to Morristown.
By the time he got into the office, the boss had arrived and he wasn’t alone. He had another guy with him. He was slightly overweight, balding and had little John Lennon-style glasses. Hank asked who he was but got the reply from the boss “It’s better you don’t know Hank. Let’s leave it at that.”
Hank was a bit surprised by this but so far, the boss had been true to his word, so he took his comment on face value. As they started the debrief, it was apparent that the boss had nothing new to bring to the table. He wanted step-by-step details from Hank about what had gone on, with which Hank was quite forthcoming. Hank did hold back the details from Taylor though, until the time was right. After about an hour of talking, Hank made up his mind what he was prepared to tell them for now. The boss told Hank he had no answers for him with regards to why his wife’s details came back on the DNA report.
“It’s because she’s now a trained and controlled assassin working for a Government Agency in the DC area called the Arena!!” he announced.
You could have heard a pin drop in the room as both of them sat there with their mouths open, completely stunned by what he had said.
“Eh?” coughed the balding man.
“It would appear that I didn’t bury my wife two years ago” replied Hank. “From what I’ve found, this Arena team took her, rebuilt her and has been using her to kill off people who've threatened to expose their operations. All the cold cases are connected as they worked for an anti-government protest group called Freespeak who were about to expose them.”
The boss just didn’t know what to say to all of this. In his years of working for the Bureau, he had dealt with some fickle clandestine agencies but nothing like this.
“Where did you get that information from Hank?” he asked.
Hank thought he would chance his arm at playing the boss' game and replied “Its better you don’t know that boss. Let’s leave it at that shall we?”
The boss looked him directly in the eye as he knew Hank was testing his authority. He was, at this stage, prepared to allow him some slack considering what he had just found out.
“OK. Right. We’re now in serious political realms here Hank. We need to tread carefully”. The boss spoke with authority on this course of action. “I need you to carry on as you were with your investigation but don’t share the information you’ve uncovered outside of this room.”
“Agreed,” replied Hank.
The balding man spoke. “I do actually have a lead for you to follow up for us Hank. Remember that Mercedes you had recovered in DC? The one that’s sitting with our CSI team in the Hoover Building as we speak? Well, a set of the number plates it used to get from Boston to DC hit the traffic cameras this morning and this afternoon. They’re now on a red Aston Martin and were last seen in the Brooklyn area near the waterfront in Brooklyn Heights. I want you to be on that first thing in the morning Hank. But for now, I need you to go home, have a good night's sleep and come in fresh tomorrow as I can see it being another busy day.”
Hank, acknowledging that it would probably be the best course of action for the day, left the boss and the balding man sitting there and went home.
After drinking a rather large Jack Daniels on ice, Hank hit the hay and tried to sleep. There was one thought, though, that kept going over and over in his head. “What if I can bring her back?”
Chapter 13
The Penthouse View
The view from the penthouse was crystal clear. The late afternoon sun was shining, and there were clear blue skies overhead. The patio doors were open which lead to the balcony overlooking the Hudson River. As Mia looked through the 'scope of her rifle, she could scan the area she was targeting. As she looked around, she could see that the park area had quite a few people milling around and enjoying their view of the Brooklyn Bridge and the Manhattan skyline. Through the 'scope, she scanned across to the bush where she had tied the scarf the day before. She could see that the weather conditions were perfect as there was no movement from it. There was an eerily calm atmosphere. Mia was lying on a table in the room, positioned back from the patio doors so not to be seen. She had an hour to go before the target was due on scene. The table she was lying on was solid oak but she was used to being uncomfortable before carrying out a mission. As the time ticked on, she put her earpiece in and checked in with the Arena. Once they had established that the mission was still on and that she was set, there wasn’t much radio transmission for Mia to listen to. There was just the occasional communications check to make sure she was still receiving. She lay there, still and focused, but her mind couldn’t stop wandering.
She was thinking “What if the serum has less effect on her this time round? Would she be able to move? She had her memories back from a certain point but would she actually be able to function?”
She convinced herself that she needed to focus on the task at hand and got back to looking through her 'scope.
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It was now 5.45pm. Mia checked her markers at the plot and there was still no wind to take a reading from, so this would be an easy shot. She estimated that there would be less than two seconds of flight time for her bullet and, if he sat where he was supposed to, there would be minimal disruption to the people around. As she was thinking and planning, she noticed out of the corner of her viewfinder that the subject had arrived early. He was smartly dressed but looked like he'd had a long day. His suit was ruffled and his tie was undone. Mia radioed in to the Arena and was given the green light to go regardless of the time. She could see that the subject was ordering his drink and he was sitting on the seat she was told about, reading his newspaper. She checked her markers once more. Everything was set. She took a deep breath and exhaled half of it. She put the cross-hatches of her 'scope directly in the middle of his face and gently squeezed the trigger of the rifle.
Everything slowed down for Mia at this point. It was almost like she was viewing what she was doing from another point in the room. Once the bullet had left the rifle, she continued to look at the subject through the 'scope. What seemed like an age passed before it struck the subject. Similar to her other missions, the subject’s head almost disappeared from his body. It was different this time as he was sitting down, so his body just remained sat there. It didn’t fall over or slump onto the table. It was still holding the newspaper as if nothing had happened. The blood from the shot had, unfortunately, sprayed over a woman sitting not far from him and that’s what started the screaming at the scene. Mia could see through her 'scope that people were reacting now to what had happened. Her job was done so she radioed in “Mission Complete” and started her usual routine of packing her stuff up ready for leaving. She continued to show no emotions about what she had done, or the carnage in the park she had just caused.
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