by Jaz Primo
I frowned. The opportunity to strike at Continuance first felt highly tempting.
“Where did you say they were again?” I asked.
He appeared annoyed. “I just said, Cardiff Bay, across the bay from Bristol. Haven’t you been listening to what I’m telling you?”
“Listen, Fisk, I’ve got a lot on my plate right now, so just back the hell off.”
An uncomfortable silence grew as I alternated glances between Sanders and Fisk.
Each had tentative expressions.
“Mr. Bringer, we’re being followed,” Strutt said. “There’s a dark sedan shadowing us less than a mile back.”
I glanced over my shoulder, but couldn’t see anything due to heavy trees at the bend we’d just passed.
“Speed up,” I said. “Around the next bend, stop and let me out, then proceed on for a couple of miles before you stop.”
“Logan, what are you planning to do?” Sanders asked, evident concern in her voice.
“Don’t worry,” I insisted. “I just want to lose our tail.”
As soon as we rounded the next curve of road, Strutt brought the car to an abrupt halt. I quickly exited the vehicle and tapped on the window.”
“Go!” I ordered.
As they pulled away, I rushed over to some nearby bushes and tall grass that interspersed with the trees.
Moments later, a sedan pulled into view.
I used my abilities to grasp the car and elevate it into the air, rotating it until it was upside down. The car’s engine whirred at high revolution before sputtering and stalling. I could see shock and panic on the two men’s faces through the car’s windshield.
I held up my right hand and wagged my index finger at them in mock-chastising fashion.
The driver and passenger windows opened to the sounds of what sounded like excited Belarusian, though I couldn’t say for certain.
“Oh, shut up and enjoy the ride!”
I gently lowered the vehicle to the pavement until it balanced upon its roof. Just as a pistol was pointed toward me from the passenger, I gave the vehicle a spin, like a child might spin a top.
I paused to appreciate their shouts and what had to be colorful curses.
Then I jogged up the road until I saw our car slowly returning in my direction. They stopped as soon as they caught sight of what I’d done.
I opened the back car door and got in.
“All taken care of,” I said. “Now, call Scott and tell him to get his ass back to the hotel. We’re checking out. Oh, and I want our plane ready to go as soon as we can get to the airport.”
“Yes, sir,” Strutt said, turning our car around. “What shall I inform the flight crew? They’ll want to know our destination for the flight plan.”
“The UK. We’re conveying Mr. Fisk back to Cardiff.”
* * *
Scott met us at our hotel and within the hour we were headed back to the airport.
In a sense, it was a damned shame. After my enjoyable dinner with Sanders the previous evening, and given our scenic location, it would’ve been nice to have stayed longer under more peaceable circumstances.
Unfortunately, it seemed that time was the commodity that we had the least ample supply of.
Much to my surprise, at the airport, we had no trouble processing for our departure from Belarus. Surely word of my encounter with those who had likely been associated with either Belarusian or Russian authorities must have spread by then.
Perhaps it was an indication of how happy they were to see us leave.
As we entered the departure wing of the airport and headed toward our private boarding area, I noticed the man with the scar who had interrogated us the previous day standing ahead of us with his arms folded before him.
He made no move to bar our way, instead staring at me with a sardonic expression and holding up his index finger, which he wagged at me in much the same fashion I had earlier in the day to those who had tailed us.
I slowed almost to a stop beside him.
“Happy hunting, Mr. Bringer?” he asked.
“Sorry, I left my hunting license back at home this time,” I replied.
“You know as well as I that you carry your license with you wherever you go,” he said. “It is a part of you, like any good predator.”
I didn’t know what to say to that, so I politely inclined my head toward him.
“Safe journey,” he said. “But next time, perhaps you’ll consider somewhere other than Belarus for your vacation. In fact, I strongly recommend it.”
There was no misinterpreting his subtle warning.
“You have a beautiful country, and I like the food,” I said. “But I suspect that, if I were to return here anytime soon, it won’t be for either the sights or the cuisine.”
He gave me a slight nod and looked in the direction of our boarding gate; yet another subtle suggestion.
Sanders and the others had stopped and were watching us with curious expressions.
I conjured the most pleasant expression that I could muster at that moment and walked purposefully toward the boarding gate.
Chapter 10
During the flight to Cardiff, Fisk made contact with his superiors while Sanders cornered me in the plane’s galley.
“As much as I want to help Fisk, you’re aware that this takes us well outside of our arranged itinerary,” Sanders said. “I need to consult with the home office on this.”
“Okay, I get it. Give them a call now,” I said. “Bear in mind that we didn’t find any credible leads to go on while in Minsk, and we’d just be heading back home scratching our heads if it hadn’t been for Fisk.”
She nodded. “True enough, I suppose. Still, this could be a real political hot potato that might go a lot higher than either the FBI or NSA.”
“Now you sound like Wainright,” I said. “I don’t have time to worry about politics.”
“Bringer, grow up,” she said, giving me a wan look. “You know as well as I do that politics are at the center of everything at stake here.”
I shrugged. “Fine, then, let the damned politicians handle the politics. That’s what Wainright and Tevin do for a living, in case you’ve forgotten. But while we’re at it, doesn’t it bother you, even just a little bit, that it was politicians who decided to forgo requests for assistance from the UK, even despite evidence that Continuance was determined to be active there?”
“At least, that’s what Fisk said happened,” she countered. “We have no way of knowing if he’s even playing straight with us.”
I pointed to my head with my forefinger. “Oh, no, I have high confidence that he believes what he told us.”
“Yes, but that only indicates he believes what he’s been told,” she said.
“Okay. What are you getting at?”
She massaged her temples with her fingertips. “Look, I don’t know. This whole mess has me looking at everything from so many angles, I’m not really sure who’s playing straight with us anymore.”
I reached out and gently grasped her hands in mine. Her hazel gaze had an almost helpless air.
I reached up with my right hand and gently ran my fingertips across her cheek. She closed her eyes and leaned into my fingers slightly.
I used my free hand to encourage her to turn away from me. Then I reached up with both hands and gently massaged her scalp and back of her neck.
A soft moan escaped her lips. “Oh, man, where did you learn that?”
I smiled. “One of my physical therapists during my chemotherapy days. It helped relax me a little bit. Maybe it will help you.”
“Yeah, I’m all about this,” she whispered, leaning her head back against my hands.
Such a simple gesture, and yet it spoke volumes to me. What surprised me was how much I enjoyed doing it for her, doing it to her.
I felt good easing her discomfort, if only for a few moments. And, frankly, I enjoyed the physical contact with her, if only in that limited fashion.
Maybe u
nder different circumstances…
“There you two are,” Fisk interrupted, parting the curtain separating us from the main cabin.
Sanders turned with a start and I quickly withdrew my hands from her.
“Oops, sorry to intrude,” he apologized. “My mistake.”
The curtain fell back into place, and I heard Fisk’s footfalls retreating away from us.
Sanders looked at me with surprise. “Oh, priceless. I bet he thinks we’re a couple or something.”
“Well, partners at the very least, right?” I asked.
Her look of astonishment faded slightly and her eyes took on a suddenly distant look. Then she blinked and nodded.
“Yeah, partners,” she agreed with a shy expression. “Thanks for the massage, partner.”
I nodded. “Anytime.”
I followed her back into the main cabin and over to where Strutt and Fisk sat.
“My superiors have arranged immediate clearance to land at Cardiff upon approach,” Fisk said. “They’ll meet us at the airport. Meanwhile, they’re mobilizing additional law enforcement and tactical teams to deploy as soon as we’re ready.”
I looked at Sanders. “Feels like Seattle all over again.”
She arched one brow at me. “Yeah, but this time let’s not play with the electrical grid while we’re in London.”
Fisk gave us a cautionary look. “Electrical grid? Anything I should know ahead of time?”
I shrugged. “Hey, I’m a guy who already plays with fire and who likes to dabble. What more do you need to know?”
Sanders gave me a wry look.
“Lovely,” Fisk replied. “I was barmy to ask.”
Within the hour, Sanders set up her notebook computer for our secure conference with the home office. For additional privacy, she used a writing table in the small bedroom in the plane’s aft section.
I appreciated a few minutes of reclining in one of the comfortable chairs positioned beside a small window.
“I just spoke with Mr. Bernard,” Strutt said, walking from the gallery at the fore of the plane. “He’s aware of our situation and encourages caution.”
I nodded. “He means, ‘try not to level the city,’ I think.”
“Perhaps a little of that, too,” Strutt agreed.
“Level the city?” Fisk demanded. “Now see here—”
“It’s ready,” Sanders said, motioning with her hand from behind a curtain.
Strutt, Fisk, and Scott looked at her and then at me. For some reason, their expressions made me feel self-conscious.
“Teleconference with the home office,” I said, hitching my thumb toward the curtain.
Strutt nodded and quickly looked down at the screen of the tablet he held. But Fisk adopted a mock-innocent expression.
“Oh, certainly, chat with the boss,” he said. “I get it.”
“Stow it, Fisk,” I said, rising from my seat.
I parted the curtains to see Sanders staring at me.
“What was that all about?” she asked.
“Huh? Nothin’,” I said.
I felt like a school boy who’d been caught playing hooky.
On the computer’s screen, Tevin, Denton, and Wainright each appeared in their own windows.
“First, let’s fill you in on what happened in Minsk,” Sanders began. “I already uploaded some photos into the secure location on the FBI’s storage network for you to review.”
Sanders explained everything we did, or encountered, during our time in Belarus and with an impressive level of detail. She did a damned better job than I could have, anyway.
When we got to the part about Fisk and what was going on in the UK, Tevin appeared irritated.
“Yes, the CIA trumped us on that,” Tevin said. “According to information that surfaced while you’ve been away, given how serious the concerns were following your Nevis Corners battle, the President felt it was better to keep you on U.S. soil.”
“While we’ve been chasing our tails stateside with no results, I could’ve actually been busy kicking Continuance’s ass over here,” I said.
“Hindsight is always twenty-twenty, Bringer,” Tevin said. “Listen, the point it, we don’t have any better leads, so it makes sense to proceed to Cardiff. However, be aware that I’ll need to share this higher up the food chain.”
“Should we be concerned?” Sanders asked.
“Not at the moment,” Tevin said. “But this could be viewed as trumping White House interests, or something of the sort. Suffice to say, I should be able to convey that we’re reacting in the field to changing conditions.”
“What about this fellow, Fisk?” Wainright asked.
“From what I can tell, he at least believes what he’s telling us,” I replied.
“Ah, I’ve got his bio here,” Tevin said. “He’s showing up as MI-6 in my database, although I don’t have recent assignment postings for him. Still, as with anyone not in our circle, proceed with caution.”
“Don’t worry,” Sanders said. “I don’t blindly trust much of anyone right now.”
I gave her a long look, wondering if my own suspicious mindset wasn’t rubbing off on her or something. She poked me in the thigh where the others couldn’t see, and my attention reverted to the screen again.
“Yeah, we’re being careful here,” I said. “Strutt and Scott have both been quite handy, I don’t mind saying.”
“Yes, well, we need to be careful in engaging civilians with our investigations and field operations,” Wainright said. “Neither of them are official government contractors.”
“Yeah, well, I’m not entirely trusting of the government side of our house right now, either,” I shot back.
“Hard to argue with that,” Denton said.
“You, now, too?” Wainright asked. “Look, let’s not get carried away here or paranoia will run away with us all.”
“Hey, I trust the people I know,” Denton said. “And frankly, thus far, both Sanders and Bringer have displayed excellent instincts.”
“Thank you, sir,” Sanders said.
Tevin nodded. “Yes, well, under the circumstances, I’d have to agree with that.”
“Something you want to share with us, Tevin?” Wainright asked.
“Perhaps,” Tevin replied. “Lately, I’ve grown more concerned about some key players on Capitol Hill. Granted, it’s easy to discount things when it’s just your own suspicions; it’s more unsettling when others concur or when suspicious events transpire.”
“Interesting. Like what?” Wainright asked.
“For one, I found it strange that the CIA didn’t even bother to mobilize any contacts for follow-up on the British reports of Continuance near Cardiff. Yet they practically raced to Belarus,” Tevin said. “Second, President Graydon seems to be leaning more and more toward the advice of his National Security Advisor, Hal Wilkes, who favors both the CIA and the Homeland Security Secretary, Roger Beck, as preferred sources of intelligence.”
“That last part doesn’t sound like news,” I said. “I think those are sources a President would typically listen to. Although I can’t say that I’m a huge fan of Beck.”
“Yeah, well, if Beck rubs you the wrong way, wait until you meet Hal Wilkes,” Wainright offered. “You’ll pine away for your biggest CIA fan, Yasmine Prichard.”
I made a sour face. “You’re just full of good news, aren’t you guys?”
“Like it or not, those are the people that the President is listening to,” Tevin said. “And we need to bear those individuals in mind as we strategize our own efforts. Also, the President isn’t listening much to either the FBI or NSA lately.”
“What?” Sanders demanded. “We’re the ones spearheading the damned investigation.”
“Yes, but the information is being filtered by those other individuals before it gets to the President,” Tevin said. “My boss, Director Gus Pearson—he’s a good guy and very competent, but he wasn’t exactly in the President’s cheering section during the cam
paign. That’s come back to haunt him since the election.”
I let out a deep breath and groaned. “Correct me if I’m wrong, but you guys make it sound like Capitol Hill is almost as bad as Continuance Corporation. Politics have always been dicey in Washington, but now it sounds like we’re fighting against our own even while fighting against Continuance.”
“Don’t you just love politics?” Denton asked.
“That’s why we need to be on our toes. Even more so. As people on the outside of the power bubble, we need to avoid making any major blunders,” Wainright said. “These are people who use the system to their advantage, and you often don’t see them coming out of your blind spot.”
“Are you talking about Continuance or our government?” I asked.
“Both,” Wainright clarified.
Sanders and I looked at each other.
“Okay, guys, just be careful out there,” Tevin said. “In the meantime, I’ll pass this up the ladder. Wainright, you might want to do the same so that we’re presenting similar perspectives from different agencies.”
“Agreed. Denton and I are on it,” Wainright said.
“Sanders, you and Bringer watch yourselves,” Denton said. “Oh, and Bringer, I have your contractor paperwork ready to sign when you get back. Mr. Bernard and his staff have been especially helpful expediting the process through the government contracting and procurement folks.”
“That seems fast,” Bringer said.
“Actually, that sounds historic,” Sanders interjected.
“Yeah, record time, in fact,” Denton said. “It typically takes weeks or months for something to make it all the way through contracting. Heck, it’s often weeks just to get it through legal, much less procurement.”
“Bringer was already on the executive office’s radar,” Wainright said. “A matter of top national security. Apparently, Hal Wilkes worked closely with Senators Ben Conway and Penny Savage, as well as Congressman Rubicon and Congresswoman Vandersnoot to put pressure on the process.”