Light of the Last

by Chuck Black

  “You’re a bit of a dilemma for me, Agent Carter.”

  Agent? What?

  “You made it through our psych evaluation at the Farm, and we turned you into a weapon. I can’t let a weapon we’ve created walk around in society with the potential of going rogue on our citizens. No telling who you could pick as an enemy. You’re an asset with the potential of becoming a serious liability. And your skills…well, they are second to none. So I find myself in a serious dilemma.”

  Now Ross was telling the truth. This was it. Drew fought the urgency to run, but how could he run from Ross, a man who had been tracking him for months before he even knew it?

  Drew waited.

  Ross shook his head. “You are the most normal crazy man I’ve ever come across. But the truth is, I don’t care what kind of demons you have inside that head of yours, you’re the best agent I’ve ever seen. That’s why I’m going to make you a deal.”

  Drew lifted his gaze to meet Ross’s. “What was all the baloney you said in the car? What’s really going on, Ross?” He couldn’t help but do a quick 360 scan.

  “Relax, Carter. You’re safe. Cars have ears. That was for show.”

  Drew didn’t relax. “What kind of a deal?”

  Ross hesitated, eyes narrow and serious. “There are certain missions that are too sensitive in nature even for the CIA to handle. Certain situations that require an extra measure of skill.”

  “You want me to operate under nonofficial cover. A NOC,” Drew finished.

  Ross’s silence was answer enough.

  “And if I refuse?”

  Ross’s brows furrowed. “Carter, don’t force me to say things I don’t want to say. I’m trying to help you here, and I’m bending every rule in the book to do so. If it weren’t for me, you would be serving time in the pen for a school shooting and for assaulting two federal agents.”

  “What country?” Drew asked. He was imagining Afghanistan, Iraq, Iran, Venezuela. There were literally hundreds of hotspots throughout the world that the CIA could expend him on. As Drew thought about it, it made perfect sense. Ross would have him out of the country, and the CIA would find it easy to disavow any involvement should he get caught.

  “You won’t be overseas. You’ll serve here in the US.”

  Drew looked sideways at Ross. “Isn’t that rather…unconventional, even for the CIA?”

  Ross didn’t reply. Something felt fishy.

  “I will not subvert my oath to defend my country, even if I’m not officially enlisted as an agent,” Drew said firmly.

  “Serving your country is what this is all about, you have my word. Any missions you are called to will come directly from me.”

  Drew didn’t trust Ross, but what could he do? He felt like a pawn being manipulated by a chess master.

  “Within the US, the CIA’s mission is to collect foreign intelligence and to run technical operations against enemy threats.”

  “Why do you need a NOC within the US to accomplish that mission?”

  Ross looked at Drew as if waiting for him to discover the answer…and he did.

  “I see,” Drew said. The brilliant sunshine, the smell of freshly cut grass, and a chilly fall breeze under other circumstances would have delighted Drew. Not now, not today. “And I’m the perfect cover, aren’t I? A rogue spy with a history of schizophrenia. Tell me, Mr. Ross, is my role as a NOC CIA-sanctioned?” Drew looked straight into his eyes. “Or am I outside of even that nether bubble?”

  Ross turned slightly so he could face Drew straight on. “I will be your only contact. No one in the CIA or any other government agency will know about you. As unorthodox as that may sound, even for the CIA, the missions I give will be part of an operation critical to the security of our nation. Trust is hard to come by in our business, but you’re going to have to trust me. From this day forward, you will have no contact with any other agent in the CIA.”

  Validus appeared and came to stand right behind Ross. Drew didn’t want to look at him, but he couldn’t help it. The massive warrior was glaring at Ross, but Drew saw a nearly imperceptible nod. If he didn’t trust Ross, could he trust his subconscious?

  Drew leaned back against the park bench. “Okay. When I’m not on mission, what’s my cover?”

  “Anything you want it to be, as long as it looks normal to the populace.”

  “What about equipment, tech?” Drew asked.

  Ross looked uneasy. “There can be no traces, not a single one. If you’re caught with CIA tech, an investigation will point straight back to me.”

  “Mission funding?” Drew asked.

  Ross reached into his pocket and gave him an envelope. Drew felt a wad of cash. If they were hundreds, he calculated it to be ten thousand dollars.

  “This is it,” Ross said. “Beyond this, you have to find your own funding. Just remember the prison cell you won’t be living in.”

  The deal was getting worse by the moment. How could he fund any reasonable operation himself?

  “What will my missions be?”

  “The less you know now, the better. Just do the job we’ve trained you to do.” A runner and her dog were approaching, so Ross conjured up some fake dialogue. “How’s work, Josh? Are they keeping you busy at the firm?”

  Drew responded, and after the woman disappeared, Ross reached into his pocket and withdrew a black box shaped a bit like a Taser. “Take off your coat.”

  Drew obliged. Ross set two exposed electrodes just behind his left shoulder, near his armpit, and pressed a button. The sensation stung and burned at the same time. Drew rubbed his shoulder to ease the pain.

  “I’ve disabled your tracker. You’re clean now.”

  “How will you contact me?”

  Ross handed Carter a USB drive. “I’ve devised a code using hundreds of innocuous websites to transmit messages. Memorize the code and destroy the drive.” He stood up and took a deep breath, then looked down at Drew. “Sometimes circumstances force our actions. I don’t really have a choice, and neither do you. Show me you can be trusted, Carter, and perhaps the future can be different.”

  He turned to walk back to the waiting black car.

  “Hey, Ross.”

  Ross turned and looked back at Drew.

  “Since I’m unsupported, I’ll need a job. Managing missions with a job is going to be difficult.”

  Ross shrugged. “Work it out, Carter. No one can know—no one! I’ll be in touch.”

  Drew watched Ross return to the car and drive away. Guys like Ross with that kind of power were scary. Governments rose and fell on the shoulders of such men.

  16

  HOMEWARD BOUND

  Validus, Tren, and Persimus watched Drew sitting on the park bench from a distance. Ross was gone, and Carter looked sad, alone, despondent. He was a broken man, and Validus hoped they had taken the right action.

  “It was a risky move,” Tren said. “He could have ended up in a mental institution. And now he doesn’t even think we’re real. What if he had been assigned overseas?”

  Validus shook his head. “Not with how Ross intends to use him. We can use Ross to bring about our own purposes no matter what he has planned.”

  Persimus frowned. “I hope I haven’t screwed this up. Now he’s a CIA agent without the CIA to back him. He could be more vulnerable than before.”

  Validus shook his head. “Are you forgetting how risky his missions were getting those last few months? No, this is the right move. And we did accomplish exactly what we were hoping to. He is free to reengage as a civilian. Let’s work on setting up an intersection with Sydney Carlyle.” He turned to Persimus. “You did a great job orchestrating all of this.”

  Persimus nodded, but he looked worried. “We’ve ruined his reputation and his self-confidence. There’s no telling what might be the consequences of that.”

  Validus considered Persimus’s words. “Michael reminded me that when pride keeps a man from Messiah, he must be broken. His reputation and his self-confidence
are the very things keeping him from the Truth. In two weeks, I want you to erase every record, both electronic and paper, in regard to his psychological evaluation and diagnosis. I don’t want a single trace left anywhere.”

  The concern left Persimus’s face. He would enjoy that mission.

  Tren looked like he wanted to say something. Validus knew that the guardian was a deep thinker, and he had come to rely heavily on his intuition.

  “What is it, Tren?”

  “Is it possible that Carter may be here for more than…” The guardian stopped.

  Validus nodded. “I’ve considered the same thing. Ross and his associates are trying to save America. Perhaps Elohim’s plan for Carter is broader than we first thought.”

  Tren and Persimus looked at Validus, waiting for his next orders.

  “Whatever happens, it doesn’t change our mission. We need to keep him alive, and we need another Carlyle encounter.”

  It was a Wednesday evening just a few minutes before seven when Drew stepped out of the taxi and walked up to the door of his home in Rivercrest, Kansas. It had been years since he had been home. He lifted his hand to the door and realized he had never knocked on his own door before. It was a sign of just how far and how long he had been away from home. He hesitated as years of memories flashed across his mind. The wood felt strangely soft against his knuckles, almost as if he were in a dream.

  When his mom opened the door, Drew wasn’t sure what to expect, but all she did was gasp, then lunge at him, wrapping her arms around his neck. Drew hugged her back.

  “Hello, Mom,” he whispered.

  Drew felt her warm tears on his neck and heard the soft sounds of her weeping. He hoped he could tell her everything one day so that her sorrow would at least be compensated with truth.

  Drew looked over his mom’s shoulder and saw Jake smiling as big as he had ever seen. Beside Jake stood Validus. Drew ignored the vision and nodded at Jake.

  A few minutes later, Drew, Kathryn, and Jake were seated at the kitchen table, each with a glass of iced tea. For a few moments, Drew imagined that there were no visions and there was no CIA. It felt good to be home.

  “What happened, Drew?” Jake asked. “How is it that they let you out?”

  Drew took a deep breath and looked down at his glass of tea. Sadness overwhelmed him as he gathered the courage to tell them the truth.

  “It turns out you guys were right from the beginning. They discovered I was seeing things, and I was diagnosed with severe PTSD. I was deemed unfit for service.”

  The room became awkwardly silent. Drew hoped that neither of them would ask about the elephant in the room—or in his case the imaginary alien in the room.

  “I’m just thankful you’re here,” Kathryn said, unable to let go of his hand. Her smile faded as a thought crossed her mind. “You are going to stay, aren’t you?”

  Drew covered her hand with his free hand. “If you’ll let me, at least for a while.”

  Kathryn laughed. “I’d have it no other way.”

  “What are your plans?” Jake asked.

  Drew sat back in his chair, pulling his hands away from his mother so he could take a drink of his tea. “Well, I don’t really have a lot of options. I was thinking about applying at the fitness center, but in the meantime I was wondering if you might have some grunt work I could do for you at the security company.” He winced. “Considering my current state, I understand if that’s not an option.”

  Kathryn’s face lit up as she looked at Jake. “Jake’s done really well with the company, Drew. I was even able to quit teaching so I could travel with him from time to time. Oh, Jake, can you work something out for Drew?”

  Jake nodded. “I’ve got more than grunt work for you—”

  Kathryn’s eyes widened, and she gave him a stern look.

  “Grunt work it is. Nice safe grunt work,” he said sweeping his hand in a cutting motion across the table.

  Drew laughed. “Thanks, Jake. It will be so good to have things back to normal.”

  Jake gave Drew the eye, but Drew just focused on his mother. He would deal with Jake later.

  Drew smiled. He had missed his mother, and he’d missed Jake. Both of them filled such a gap in his life. The rest of the evening was spent eating, talking, laughing, and crying. For a few hours, Drew felt at peace.

  —

  Drew took the rest of the week acclimating to home and the new order of things with Jake as his stepfather. Though different, it was an easy transition. Jake had now been as much a part of Drew’s life as his real father had been, and perhaps even more, especially when he was navigating through the tumultuous years of his youth.

  Monday morning, Drew went with Jake to his security firm. Drew could tell Jake was full of questions by how little he was talking. As usual, however, he let Drew pick his own time to reveal things.

  It had been nearly four years since Drew had last seen Jake’s company, and even then Jake hadn’t really shared much with Drew about what he did. He only knew that Jake provided security and that many of his employees were ex-military.

  “I don’t remember this being the way,” Drew said as Jake drove west out of the city.

  “I’ve relocated and expanded,” Jake replied.

  He turned onto a gated blacktop road. Near the gate a prominent stone sign read Fortress Security, Authorized Personnel Only. The fence ran north and south until it disappeared behind rows of trees. They drove a couple hundred yards up to a second entry, where a guard greeted them.

  “Good morning, Greg,” Jake said.

  “Good morning, Jake,” the guard replied with a smile. He reached inside the guard shack and the gate opened.

  “Wow. Mom wasn’t kidding. You really have done well,” Drew said as he scanned the inner compound of the security firm. A stout but sharp-looking brick and steel building was centered on an acre lot.

  “Don’t get too carried away with assumptions, Drew. There’s no excess in my firm. I keep it lean and simple. Your mother and I don’t need much, so most of what I earn goes right back into the company.”

  “That I believe, but I bet you’ve got some great tech,” Drew said with a wide grin. “And weapons.”

  Jake flashed a quick smile. “That I do. You’re going to love the range out back.”

  “Range?”

  Jake nodded. “I own twenty acres surrounding the firm. We have an entire range dedicated to training.”

  “What the heck, Jake?”

  Jake raised an eyebrow. “Drew, I’m an ex-Ranger. My buds are ex—Special Forces from all branches. They’re not wired to be mall cops.” He winced. “Although we have been known to handle that too. We offer security at every level, and I mean every level. We work closely with the authorities wherever our services are needed. We’ve even started to land a few government contracts.”

  Drew eyed Jake. “What about services that are needed by questionable people and companies?”

  Jake nodded. “We get requests of every kind, but I only approve those that are legal and legitimate. I thoroughly investigate any potential client before accepting them.”

  Jake took the morning to show Drew the compound, and he was impressed. In a smaller way, it reminded him of the Farm. The men and women Jake had assembled were top flight, every one without exception. It was a testimony to the leadership skills Jake possessed. In just a few hours, Drew’s respect for Jake elevated beyond the lofty place it already was.

  Just before lunch, Jake took Drew to the range. In the weapons lodge, a man with a bushy mustache who looked to be about Jake’s age met them.

  “Drew this is Mick. He’s my right-hand man around here.”

  Mick stuck out a large square hand. “I never knew your dad, but I heard a lot about him.”

  “Mick and I served together, in Afghanistan,” Jake added.

  Drew took Mick’s hand. His shake was firm and nearly painful.

  “Drew is looking to hire on with us,” Jake said to Mick.


  “You got prior service? Training?” Mick asked.

  Drew pursed his lips. He wasn’t sure how to answer. “No, not really.”

  Mick raised an eyebrow and looked at Jake.

  “Just the eight years Jake trained me while I was growing up,” Drew added.

  Mick nodded. “Then let’s see what you’ve got. Here are the weapons you asked for, Jake.” Mick set a Springfield .40-caliber pistol and a Beretta 9mm on the counter before them.

  Drew smiled. “Just like old times.”

  Jake turned to Drew. “I rely on Mick heavily, but I personally evaluate every employee—their skill set, their psychological condition, their mental prowess. When I vouch for man or woman to a client, my reputation and their life are on the line. No matter how big we get, I will not delegate that to anyone else.” He looked at Drew. “There are no exceptions.”

  “I understand,” Drew replied.

  The first station for Drew was simple target practice at twenty-five, fifty, and seventy-five feet. When Mick pulled the targets in, he just silently nodded. Each of the three targets had a tight two-inch pattern in the center of the chest regardless of the distance.

  Jake followed on the premise of staying current. “Too much time behind a desk will ruin a good shooter.”

  The next station required Drew to hit multiple targets behind various barriers. The sequence was timed. He actually held back so as not to reveal too much to Jake and Mick, but even still, his performance was superb. After the last sequence, Mick looked at the shot timer and eyed Jake. He flipped it around for Jake to see. Jake just nodded.

  “And you taught him that?” Mick’s voice was thick with skepticism.

  “Yes, he did,” Drew interjected. “Started when I was twelve.”

  Mick shook his head. “Well, kid, you’ve run circles around the old man.”

  Jake snarled at Mick, “Who you callin’ old? How’s it compare to your last run?”

  “That’s classified, and don’t try to make this about me,” Mick snapped back.

  Jake offered a crooked smile. “Need to see anymore?”

  Mick huffed. “I’m good, I’m good.”