by Cliff Ryder
"Let's go," David said.
As they ran, David slipped on a pair of sunglasses that also connected him with Primary, Room 59 headquarters. "Map to St. Pancras Station," he said under his breath. The combination earpiece and mike picked up his words and projected a small map in the lower right-hand corner of his left eyepiece, giving him distance, estimated time of arrival, a map and turn-by-turn instructions to the front entrance. "Argyle Street doglegs north across Euston to Pancras Road to the entrance on the left." David repeated the instructions, committing them to memory as he and Kanelo trotted down the street, the SUV disappearing from view.
The two men settled into a comfortable pace, neither one saying anything. For his part, David was glad for the silence, which allowed him to concentrate on the job ahead. Their long legs ate up the distance quickly, and soon the large brick facade of the rail station came into view. Traffic on Euston Road was moving fast, and the two men had to wait until the striped pedestrian pole signaled that it was safe to cross, slipping through the increasingly thick crowd as the pair got closer to the building.
At the door, David radioed it. "M-One, Team Two, this is Team One. We are in position."
"Team Two in position," Robert replied.
"M-One affirmative. Sweep the building for your target, and keep your eyes open for anyone else looking."
"Affirmative." David caught Kanelo's eye, and the two men headed into the station, caught up among hundreds of other people coming and going. David kept his hand near the waist of his trousers and the HK pistol snugged into a clamshell holster at the small of his back. He kept a wary eye out for security — he figured the measures taken near the Chunnel train would be strict, and didn't wish to bring down any attention on himself or his partner.
Threading their way through the crowd, David and Kanelo scanned the dozens of faces around them, dividing up the huge room by unspoken agreement. They appeared casual, sweeping forward from the main doors and moving toward the various platforms, intent on checking every face they saw. David's gaze alighted on different faces just long enough to realize it wasn't the person he was looking for, then moving on.
Over the clamor of the train shed, David heard the piercing, high-pitched blast of a whistle. He locked eyes with Kanelo. "Police whistle."
"Team Two, this is Team One. Whistle and commotion near the Chunnel train — we're moving to investigate."
Kanelo nodded, and they both headed toward the noise, skirting the outside mass of commuters heading into London from the outskirts of the city. David had to use all of his dexterity to move against the throng, bobbing and weaving as he tried to get closer to the commotion on the platform near the HS1 — the high-speed Chunnel train.
A crowd had gathered, and as David forced his way to the front, he was elbowed aside by another man who was very intent on where he was going.
"Sorry," the man grunted as he disappeared into the crowd. David immediately checked his wallet and his gun, aware that the man could have been either a pick-pocket or the accomplice who distracted a mark while another thief lifted the goods. Both were still in place, however.
"M-Two, I have possible target sighting," Kanelo said as he nudged David and surreptitiously pointed, not at the high-speed train, but at another one on the other side of the platform.
David stood on his tiptoes in time to see a flash of short, blond hair and deep blue eyes, the exact shade that had held his gaze in the grainy video frame. She disappeared into a train car, followed by the dark-haired man who had bumped into him a moment ago.
"Shit, that's her, and she's already got a tail. Come on!" David pushed his way through the crowd toward the train, part of his mind catching that the high-speed train was making its final boarding call. What's she up to? he wondered.
14
Anthony nudged Carl with his elbow and walked a little faster. "Don't lose her." Even though he'd be more comfortable with Liam at his side, the first thing Anthony always did was evaluate new men assigned to his team, and the best way to do that was to see how they did in the field.
"Don't worry, I got her. Looks like the drapes don't match the carpet anymore." Carl's head didn't move, but his eyes scanned to his right and left. "Sure is crowded around here."
The team leader knew the newbie wasn't talking about the general crush of passengers. They had spotted the woman right away, and had been moving in to apprehend her when she had been accosted by another man. Anthony had held them up, hoping the guy might get away with it — it would be much easier to move on him later in a less conspicuous place — but she had gotten away with her distraction, running for the other train and leaving the furious man behind to be hauled away by two Metro police officers. Anthony was pretty sure there were more agents around the station, although whether they were from MI-6 or that mystery shooter team, he had no idea. We'll just nick her first, and fuck over anyone who gets in our way this time.
The two men trotted through the crowd toward where they had seen Marlene board the train. More clever than I thought, Anthony mused. Now she had options, stay on board or exit from either side.
"Stay outside and follow the cars down — she'll come out either here or there. I'm going in," Anthony directed.
Carl nodded and slipped through the crowd, paralleling the train cars, always watching the windows for a glimpse of their target. Anthony stepped inside and, after a glance behind him to make sure she hadn't pulled the old "sit down and blend in with the crowd" trick, walked unhurriedly down the center aisle, past old people struggling to put away their bags, young people slouching in their seats, bored and disinterested, already staring out the windows or falling asleep, and professionals in their suits and ties, clicking away on their laptops or talking too loudly on their cell phones. He gave all of them no more than a cursory glance, his eyes roving for the one face that would mean his job was done.
When his earpiece vibrated slightly in his ear, he tapped it. "Go."
"I've spotted her, in the next car ahead of you. She's stuck in behind a bunch of students. You should be coming up on her in the next twenty yards," Carl reported.
"Watch for other interested parties."
"Will do. You just get up there and get her out."
"Just watch your own ass, and let me worry about hers." Anthony strode to the door between the cars and into the next compartment, but before he could take another step, he felt a hand clamp down on his shoulder.
"Terry, is that you? I thought I recognized you back there!"
Anthony spun around to see a man he didn't recognize — no, that wasn't quite true. He had seen him before, in the crowd near the altercation, had even bumped into him on the way over to this train. The guy was a pretty good actor, with a huge smile plastered across his face as he waited for some spark of recognition. The only giveaway was his too-intent gaze, boring directly into Anthony's.
"I'm afraid you have the wrong person, sir. Now please excuse me…" Without waiting for a reply, Anthony turned to head deeper into the car, only to be stopped again by the other man's hand.
"Naw, I'm sure it's you, Terry Westing from Eton College, class of '93, right?"
This time Anthony didn't say anything, but whirled around so fast that he broke the other man's hold on his shoulder and pinned the offending hand between his right arm and his side, trapping him. Curling his fingers so that the second knuckles protruded in what was known as a ram's-head fist, he pistoned his left arm out, aiming for his opponent's solar plexus and a quick end to this delay. To any bystanders, it would have seemed that he had just tapped the other man, but would leave him winded and gasping on the floor.
Instead, the man moved with Anthony's attack, turning sideways to let the intended blow sail past his chest while he grabbed the outthrust hand with his own. "Now, that just isn't very nice." The man's voice had dropped in volume and tone, and matched Anthony's own cold intensity.
The merc's eyes widened in surprise. Shit, he's another pro! Anthony realized. Before he
could move, a loud voice from behind them piped up. "Hey, get moving, other people would like to get on board here!"
Anthony released the man's hand and twisted out of his grip, shoving him backward into the crowd of people jamming the entryway. Turning around, he scrambled past the knot of people ahead of him, shoving through and climbing over when necessary. "Where'd she go?"
"She's getting off at the next door. I'm moving in…What the hell do you…?" The connection was suddenly cut.
"Carl, what's going on out…damn it!" Anthony vaulted over a row of chairs, narrowly missing kicking a backpacker in the head. Clambering over another row, he heard another disturbance and raised voices behind him, and knew his adversary was after him again. Reaching the door, he raced outside just in time to see Marlene duck into the Chunnel train as the doors swung shut.
"Son of a bitch! Carl, where in the hell are you?" Hearing a shout, Anthony looked up the platform to see Carl trading vicious blows with a tall, well-built black man in a torn sport coat. "Priority members, abort, repeat, abort." Taking a running start, Anthony leaped into the air just as the black man's back turned to him, his high side kick slamming into the guy's ribs and pushing him to the ground.
"Let's go!" Anthony saw more uniformed men approaching from down the platform, and pulled Carl away. "Move out, now!"
The two men ran down the platform and out into the yard, disappearing into the maze of trains, tracks and cars that covered the rail yard.
15
Her heart hammering in her chest, Marlene squeezed through the doors of the high-speed train just as they closed. Grabbing a pole near the entryway, she leaned against it for support as she glanced backward to see the brown-haired man burst from the other train. He spotted two other men fighting, and went to help one of them, leaping into the air to kick the other one, then the pair ran off, pursued by police officers.
Marlene closed her eyes and swallowed hard, concentrating on not vomiting. Her stomach lurched, and not just from the slow movement of the train as it began its long acceleration out of the station. I could have been killed out there, she realized. Stepping onto the other train had been an act of desperation, and she had been surprised it had worked so well. But I also had help, of a sort, she thought, puzzling over the different groups of men who had fought each other on the platform. She knew none of those men would be caught; they knew all kinds of ways to evade the law, and they would keep coming after her, all of them, until one side or another caught her. MI-6 wanted the data — that, and to throw her into prison and toss the key, most likely. The other side, her erstwhile employer, wanted the data, too, and her dead.
"Miss?" The voice right next to Marlene brought her out of her reverie with a startled squeak. Straightening up, she opened her eyes to see a man dressed in a smart uniform holding a small device. "If I could see your ticket, please?"
"Oh — of course." She extracted the vital slip of paper from a pocket on her laptop case and handed it over. He inserted it into a slot on the machine, which whirred and made a buzzing noise, then spit the ticket back out into his hand.
"Just made it," he said.
"Yes — yes, lucky me."
"Good thing you weren't caught up in that fray outside, eh?" He held the punched ticket out. "Thank you, and have a pleasant trip to Paris."
"Thank you." Taking the slip of paper, she walked down the center aisle on unsteady legs to her compartment in the middle-class accommodations. Finding an empty foursome, she sank into the nearest window seat, leaning against the cool glass and watching the graffiti-covered walls of South London fly by faster and faster as the train picked up speed.
"Excuse me, is this seat taken?" Marlene looked up to see an impeccably dressed, dark-haired man with a kind smile. He was pointing at the seat across from her, and although she didn't really want to be sitting next to anyone at the moment, she didn't feel as if she could refuse him.
"No, it's open."
"Thank you." His speech was colored with an accent she couldn't quite place — Italian? Greek? — and despite herself, Marlene couldn't help watching him as he sat across from her, setting a folded newspaper on the seat beside him. "Some fortune, eh? The ticket booth said every seat in here was sold, but here we are, with no one nearby."
"Mmm." Marlene returned to staring out the window.
If the man caught her unspoken cue to leave her alone, he gave no sign of it. "I just had to get out of the city one last time before winter, and I thought Paris would be nice to see this time of year. Just playing hooky, I suppose. And you, are you playing hooky, as well?"
A ghost of a smile tugged the corners Marlene's mouth up for a moment, before she shook her head. If only, she thought. "No, I'm traveling to Paris on — personal business." One might even say a matter of life or death.
He nodded, his liquid brown eyes never leaving her face. "That does not surprise me, although I had hoped you would be going to the City of Lights for a vacation. It is so beautiful, and there is so much to see there."
"Well, it's likely I won't be staying long. I'll be meeting friends there, and we'll be driving through Europe for a few weeks."
The man's expression grew rueful, almost as if he had caught her in the lie, even though there was no way he could have known anything about her. "Are you sure I cannot tempt you with a few days in Paris on the arm of a handsome tour guide?"
Marlene covered her mouth with her hand to hide the foolish smile on her face. I nearly got kidnapped on the platform a few minutes ago, and now this guy is hitting on me? "You are very confident, monsieur."
"Well, in my line of work, I have to be. I have to know what I want, and move to take it quickly, before someone else does." He smiled, transforming his face from utter seriousness to the lighthearted expression of a carefree man ten years younger.
"Oh? And what is it you do?"
As quickly as it appeared, the smile flitted from his face as he leaned forward. "I work for Mercury Security, Incorporated, and my current assignment is to locate you, Maggie Britaine."
16
"Son of a bitch!" David resisted the urge to kick the side of the departing train in his anger, and instead ran to help Kanelo, who, trying to hold his head and his back at the same time, was failing at both.
"Stay still, you might have a concussion. This might hurt a bit." David took his head in both hands and turned his face up to the light, checking his pupils.
"I can't tell what hurts more, the muscles where that bastard booted me or your fingers on my aching skull."
"I think you'll be okay, but we'd better get out of here — we've attracted enough attention as it is." Indeed, David realized, if it wasn't for those other two guys taking off down the platform toward the tracks, they'd probably be surrounded by police right now. "Come on, let's get you up and moving."
He bent down and slung Kanelo's arm around his shoulders, then pulled him to his feet. The taller man swayed a bit, and David steadied him with one hand while hitting his earpiece with the other. "M-One, this is M-Two, we are pulling out. Be advised, we did not recover the target, but ran into other interested parties. Have one injured, we're moving toward the exit now."
"Is target still in sight?"
David glanced over at the train pulling out of the station. "Negative, target is out of reach at the moment."
"Copy that. All teams, withdraw. Repeat, all teams withdraw."
David heard muttered cursing from Robert. "Not again! What happened, Two, she get a look at your face and run off screamin'?"
Cody's authoritative voice cut through the chatter. "That's enough. We'll debrief when we've regrouped. Do you know where she's headed?"
David and Kanelo had been on the move during the brief conversation, and were almost at the main doors. "Yeah, she's on the HS1 to Paris," David replied.
They were about to push through the exit when a voice called out behind him. "You there, at the door!"
Both men froze just inches away from the door. "Keep goi
ng?" David asked.
Kanelo sucked in a breath and winced before answering. "No — too suspicious. Let's see what they want. Let me stand."
David took his arm away and turned around to see a man who looked as if he worked for the railroad approaching them. "Gentlemen, there were reports of a man attacking you in front of witnesses. I'm afraid that I have to keep you here until the police can take your statement, and I'm sure you'll want to press charges…"
Kanelo interrupted him with a loud groan, and slumped against David, who ran with the improvisation. "I appreciate that, but as you can hear, my friend isn't feeling too well, and I'd like to get him to a hospital to get checked out."
"Sir, I'm sure an ambulance can be called for him, but you must remain…"
"Oh, God, my head — splitting open — everything going dark…" Kanelo clutched his temples and practically fell over on David, who held him up with both hands.
"Thanks for your offer, sir, but we really must get to a hospital right now!" David shoved his teammate at the door, wincing as the unprepared Kanelo's head smacked into the glass. Reaching around him, David pushed the door open and helped him through over the protests of the administrator.
"Good acting there, Kan." David ushered him down the steps toward the idling SUV.
"Ugh, it wasn't all acting — my head is pounding, and for a moment there I thought I was blacking out. Ribs hurt like hell. Is he still back there?"
"Don't know, and don't care." David yanked the front passenger's door open and hustled Kanelo inside, then jumped in the back, barely getting aboard before the vehicle was moving.
"We're picking up Team Two around back, so before they get here, why don't you fill me in on what happened?" Cody said.
"I think the same team we ran into last night was at the station." David related what had happened inside, leaving nothing out. "The plan had been to stop the man pursuing our target and flush her out for Kanelo to take into custody. I got a good look at one of them. However, he got a good look at me, too, I'm afraid."