WHEN SHADOWS CALL
A Shadow Cell Thriller
Ernest Dempsey
Enclave Publishing
Contents
1. Location: Classified
2. Liverpool, England
3. Paris, France
4. London, England
5. London
6. London
7. London
8. London
9. Felixstowe Port, England
10. London
11. London
12. London
13. London
14. London
15. London
16. Uzbekistan
THANK YOU
OTHER BOOKS BY ERNEST DEMPSEY
DEDICATION
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
COPYRIGHT
1
Location: Classified
Adriana’s eyes peeled open, the lids grating her eyeballs like sandpaper. The darkness didn’t dispel. She blinked more rapidly to rid her mind of the fog and—she hoped—the inability to see, but it was no use.
It took another few seconds for her to feel the bag wrapped around her head and neck. In the pervasive haze filling her vision and thoughts, she hadn’t noticed it at first.
The next thing she realized was the restricting pain in her wrists and ankles.
Tied to a chair, she thought. With a bag over my head. Wonder who I pissed off this time.
She had no recollection of what happened or who could have done this, but one thought kept resonating in her mind: she’d kill whoever was responsible.
Her muscles strained against her bonds, over and over, until she realized it was an exercise in futility. Whoever had tied the knots wasn’t fooling around. They intended to keep her exactly where she was.
That brought up another question: Where am I?
For the time being, there was no way to know.
A door creaked from somewhere across the void, and she sat up a little straighter.
“I see you’re awake,” a man’s voice said. His accent was distinctly English, refined, probably raised by a prominent family that had a permanently scheduled tea time every day of their lives.
She didn’t answer. Her only response was a fierce scowl the man could not yet see.
“I’m certain you have a thousand questions running through that pretty head of yours. Why are you here? Who brought you? Where is here?”
“I suppose you’re going to give me some answers?” she spat through clenched teeth.
The black sack on her head was suddenly yanked away, and she looked up to find herself in a tiny square-shaped room, surrounded by cinder blocks and a gray ceiling and floor. A single fluorescent light gave off the only illumination in the space and reinforced the overwhelming feeling of sterility—and isolation.
“Of course I am, Miss Villa. Would you mind if I called you Adriana?”
The man speaking to her was tall, probably a few inches over six feet. His frame was lanky but imposing—possibly due to the thousand-dollar suit covering his body. His hairline had receded to just beyond the tip of his forehead and appeared to have halted, leaving a distinctive look and shape to his head. His nose was long and pointy, matching the snide grin on his lips.
“I don’t care what you call me. The second you let me go will be the next-to-last second of your life.”
The man’s grin widened slightly. “I knew you were the right woman for the job, Adriana,” he said as he pulled up a metal chair from a few feet away and eased into the seat. “I have to say, I’ve heard so many good things about you. I’ve become quite a fan over the years.”
“What are you talking about?” She strained against the ropes once more, vainly hoping it would be the time their strength gave way. It wasn’t.
He crossed one leg over the other and folded his hands on his thigh. “The rogue thief who steals lost masterpieces and restores them to their proper owners. I have to say, it must be very invigorating, albeit dangerous.”
“What do you want? Why am I here?”
“I’ve heard you’re typically direct, to the point, Miss Villa…sorry, did you say it was all right for me to call you Adriana?”
She sneered but didn’t offer a reply.
“I’ll take that as a yes. No need for formality. After all, if you decide to play by our rules, you’ll have a different title.”
The comment caused her eyebrows to pinch together in confusion.
“My name, Adriana, isn’t important. For now, you may call me the Director.”
“Director? I already have a friend who’s a director.”
“Yes, I am aware of your friendship with Director Starks at the Axis agency. Tidy little operation they run over there. I also admire their work, though they occasionally cross paths with us, which I don’t need to tell you has a tendency to complicate things.”
He said over there. Based on the accent and his reference about the location of Axis headquarters, that meant she was probably still in Europe.
Memories flooded her mind. She’d been in Munich searching for clues to a lost painting. Something had happened. A man. She remembered seeing a guy in a dark trench coat fifty feet down the sidewalk. The sight had stood out because the temperature was unusually hot for that time of year. Most of the locals were in shorts and tank tops or T-shirts. Even the businesspeople carried their jackets in their arms to ease the sweltering heat.
The man in the trench coat approached her. He’d had a menacing look on his face underneath darkly tinted sunglasses. She’d been so focused on the perceived threat that she didn’t see someone else come up from behind her. The last thing she remembered was a sudden prick on the side of her left arm.
“Since you prefer to not beat around the bush, Adriana, I will extend the same courtesy to you so as to save time for the both of us.”
“That would be lovely. Then I can get back to my plan to kill you.”
For a second, he seemed amused. “I assure you, Adriana, we are on the same team. I’m hoping we can make that an official standing.”
There it was again, a reference to some kind of offer. What was he getting at?
“I have to admit,” he said. “You are something of a difficult woman to track down, even for me. Luckily, we have a common ally.”
“Common ally?”
“Yes,” he said, raising his eyebrows. “You come highly recommended, by the way.”
“By who?”
He raised his leg and crossed it over the other to ease the circulation. “Let me be blunt, Adriana. We are part of a top-secret agency known as Shadow Cell. We know about your background: born just outside of Madrid, fluent in several languages and even a few dialects, assets all over the globe including property, bonds, money, and even bullion.”
She ignored the last part and focused on the word he kept using as if it made everything clear. “We?”
“Yes,” he elongated the word for dramatic effect. “We are a small operation, much like the one your friend Director Starks runs in Atlanta.”
“So, you’re spies, assassins, what?” she snarled.
He refolded his hands across his lap. “Both—when necessity requires. However, we do our best not to get involved in the intelligence-counterintelligence game. MI5, MI6, the CIA, NSA, they all have that covered and, for the most part, do a good job.”
“That’s debatable.”
He allowed a quiet snort to escape his nose. “Indeed.”
“If all those other agencies have everything covered, what is it you do, exactly?”
He drew a long breath. “Adriana, most of the world’s agencies are constantly focused on each other. Sure, they monitor terrorist threats as best they can, but there is only so much they can do. Terrorist cells operate qu
ite differently than governments.”
“I’m aware of that. Get to the point.”
The Director didn’t flinch at her brusqueness. “We have received information that there is a new group of terrorists on the rise. They have a hierarchy of leaders across the globe who are—as we speak—setting up a network that will shake the very foundation of civilization.”
“So? Take them out.”
“Why do you think I’m talking to you?”
Her frown deepened. “No. I mean have one of your agents take them out.”
“I wish it was that simple, Adriana. You see, Shadow Cell is relatively new. You will be our second field operative—should you decide to come work for us.”
She pressed her back against the chair. “What?”
“Terrorist attacks have been on the rise since 2001, Miss Villa.” He had returned, inexplicably, to formal address. “We never know where they’re going to hit or when. Paris, Belgium, Germany, Barcelona, Finland—all were random places, and no one had a clue they were coming.”
“That’s what makes it terrorism,” Adriana said, pointing out the obvious.
“Indeed.”
“I still don’t see what any of this has to do with me.”
“We want you to infiltrate their network, take out the men in charge, and retrieve anything you can about how they operate. Your first mission is this man….” He clicked something in his palm, and an image appeared on the concrete wall to her left. It was a man with a thick black beard and dark, vapid eyes. The picture was taken of him next to a pool as he stared at a cell phone.
“Who is that?”
“Camir Asad,” the Director said. “Their organization is called the Red Ring. I personally don’t understand the name, though we have information that suggests it has something to do with an ancient prophecy.”
She lifted an eyebrow.
“At any rate, Asad is one of the men in charge.”
“Is he the leader?”
“No. He’s one of the leaders, but the head of their network is unknown. We’re hoping you can get him to give you more information about the rest of the men running the operation.”
“So, you don’t know anything?” Adriana didn’t care if she came off as rude. She was tied to a friggin’ chair.
“In a manner of speaking, I suppose,” the Director said. “We know there are several of them because we captured one of their operatives in London early last month. He’d strolled into a train station with six pounds of explosives strapped to his chest. Apparently, his knowledge of electrical circuitry was less than stellar. The bomb didn’t work, and he was apprehended without anyone being harmed. After some persuasion, he gave us Asad’s name and laid out how their hierarchy works.”
“It sounds like you have a handle on this. I hope it all works out well for you.”
The Director bit his lower lip. “Adriana, you are—perhaps—the best thief in the world. You are able to get in and out of places without being detected, taking priceless relics from some of the most secure locations on the planet.”
He was right about that. She’d broken into homes with million-dollar security systems, she’d cracked vaults, and she’d picked impossible locks—all for what she deemed a worthy cause.
“You’re not asking me to steal things from people who stole them from others. You’re asking me to kill.”
“I’m asking you to do both, Adriana. Some of these men may have information, information we need to keep out of the hands of more powerful villains. Besides, it’s not like you haven’t killed before.”
“I’ve never murdered anyone if that’s what you’re saying.”
“If you don’t take these men out, we’ll have to find someone else to do it. No one is as adept as you at getting in and out of places without being noticed. By eliminating these men, you’ll be saving countless other lives all over the world.”
It was a classic argument. Kill one to save twenty. She still didn’t like the idea.
“I’m sorry, Director. I have my own problems.”
His lungs filled with air, and he exhaled slowly. “Yes, I’m aware of your issues with the syndicate.”
This guy was full of surprises. How in the world did he know about that?
“You know about the syndicate?” There was no effort to mask her astonishment.
“We are aware of their actions. While they’re something of a secret society, their members are often in the public eye. They’re easy enough to find. If you help us,” he said, “we will help you.”
The deal sounded good, but Adriana wasn’t one to accept help from people, especially strangers who drugged her and took her to an undisclosed location only to tie her to a chair. “So, you want me to take out these terrorists, and then you will help me eliminate the syndicate?”
“That’s the deal, Adriana. Of course, you will receive hazard pay for your time.” He paused and could tell she was about to protest, so he cut her off. “I know you don’t need the money. I’m quite aware of your family’s fortune. Still, it wouldn’t be right to not pay you.”
She couldn’t argue with that.
“What makes you think I need your help?”
“The syndicate is a massive organization with unlimited funding. At this very moment, they have assets in play, searching for you.”
That part she assumed, but hearing it was unsettling.
“When they find you—and they will find you—they will eliminate you like a weed in a garden. There is nowhere you can hide from them forever.”
“I’ll have to think about it,” she said after a moment of thought. “I have a few things I need to take care of first.”
“Very well,” he said as he stood and turned to leave. “My assistant will show you out.” He placed a white business card in the chair’s seat and walked toward the door. “I do hope you’ll say yes. Terribly difficult to find a person with your particular skill set in this day and age.”
“You said someone referred me to you,” Adriana said. “Who?”
The Director stopped and pivoted around. A wry grin crossed his face. “You know her,” he said. “Your friend June is one of us.”
He disappeared through the door, leaving her alone with the shocking revelation and a million thoughts running through her head.
2
Liverpool, England
Adriana stepped through the creaky metal door and out into a drizzling rain. She pulled her thin jacket tight around her arms. It did little to keep the cool air from her skin.
She was next to the River Mersey, that much she knew. From the looks of things, the docks hadn’t been used in a long time. The warehouses appeared to have been abandoned long ago. A few rusted forklifts and flat carts sat silently along one of the crumbling brick walls.
It was a dreary setting and a perfect location for a secret group of assassins—or whatever they were. No one would think that underneath the cracking streets and derelict buildings a group of people was running some sort of counterterrorism unit.
“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner,” a familiar voice said from around the corner.
Adriana didn’t turn her head. She knew someone was there. In fact, she’d assumed it was June. Her instincts, it seemed, were as sharp as ever.
June stepped around the corner of the building. She was wearing a black trench coat and held a clear umbrella over her head.
“I knew there was more to you than met the eye,” Adriana said. “Your precision, your movements…something about you screamed confidence underneath that fearful disguise.”
June shrugged. “The fear isn’t a disguise. It’s real. If you aren’t at least a little afraid in my line of work, then you’ll get sloppy. Fear keeps us alive. It keeps us sharp.”
She stepped close and offered to share the umbrella with her friend.
“I assume Tommy doesn’t know about all this,” Adriana said.
“No. And it needs to stay that way.”
“Tommy’s a smart
guy, June. He’ll figure it out eventually.”
Tommy Schultz was June’s boyfriend. Head of the International Archaeological Agency in Atlanta, he was often abroad, scouring the globe for lost artifacts or recovering relics for a government. Occasionally, he did work for private entities, though he preferred to steer clear of those for personal reasons.
Adriana had met Tommy and his best friend, Sean Wyatt, while investigating a lead in Las Vegas. She’d saved their lives, helped them with the case, and in the end started dating Sean.
“I’m sure he’ll figure something out sooner or later,” June said.
“That’s good. Every solid relationship should be founded in some form of dishonesty. Is it even a real relationship? Do you have feelings for him?”
“Of course I do, Adriana. Everything I have with Tommy is very real. I love him. Which is why I can’t tell him about this. Not yet. He’ll freak out.”
“You’re right about that.”
“Exactly. So, between you and me, I need to keep this under wraps for a while. Just until I can figure out what to tell him.”
“And how to tell him.”
“Right.”
Adriana stared out at the Mersey and shook her head. “So what, the researcher thing is a ruse? A side gig? What?”
“It’s part of what I do for the agency. While Sean and Tommy do what they do to preserve history, I do what I do to help keep dangerous parts of history out of the wrong hands.”
“Dangerous parts of history?”
“Think about the events of the last several years, Adriana. Our boyfriends have gotten into no end of trouble. Often, that trouble has global implications. Known terrorists—even the ones Tommy and Sean haven’t encountered—are constantly looking for something that will give them more power. And it’s not just terrorists. Think about every villain Tommy and Sean have encountered since Tommy started the IAA. Lot of people bent on bad intentions.”
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