by Mike Ryan
Heather realized he was right and that she was acting irrational. She felt like she was being foolish and tried to pull herself together.
“So when do you leave?”
“Tomorrow,” Cain answered.
“How long will you be gone?”
“A few days.”
“That seems to always be the standard answer,” she told him.
“That’s cause it’s always the plan.”
Heather continued cleaning the kitchen, knowing nothing she could say was going to change the outcome. She knew he was going and she needed to put on a better face and not pout about it.
Cain grabbed Heather‘s waist to turn her around so he could look in her eyes. “I promise I’ll make it up to you.”
“Yeah, until they tell you they’re sending you somewhere else.”
“Hey,” he said, putting his arms around her, holding her close to his chest.
“I’m sorry,” Heather replied, looking up at him.
She was enjoying the close affection from him though not under those circumstances.
“I know I’m acting foolish,” Heather stated. “I’m just gonna miss you.”
“I’ll miss you too.”
“You will?”
“Of course. Every mission I’ve been on since I met you I’ve thought about you while I was gone.”
“You have?”
“It’s part of what made me realize I couldn’t let you go. Every time I’ve been in some foreign country, in some broken down hole in the wall, when it’s cold, wet, hotter than Hell, or wondering how I’ll get out of a situation…you’re what gets me through it,” he told her. “There’s never been a time when I didn’t think of you.”
“Aww. You’re so sweet,” she replied, softly kissing his lips.
“You’re the reason I always come back.”
“Just make sure you do.”
“Nothing could stop me from coming back to you,” he said, kissing her.
Chapter 4
Moscow, Russia—It’d been a long time since Cain had to swim. He needed to use his aquatic skills on a mission in South America a few months prior to this but it wasn’t anywhere near as long a swim as this was. He was a little tired swimming from the other side of the lake but it was the best option to get on the property without being noticed. Once he got near the shore, he raised his head slightly out of the water so he could see, the water hovering above his lips. It was a pitch black night, the moon tucked away, perfect for what he had planned. He had a bag full of weapons with him, the strap slung around his neck. Cloaked in black clothing to blend in with the night, he crawled onto land, surveying the situation. He heard some laughing coming from the side of the house. It wasn’t especially loud, but the unison of several voices made it more noticeable. Still laying on the ground, he slowly opened his bag so as to not make a noise as it unzippered. He had two handguns which he put inside his belt and he quickly assembled a sniper rifle, complete with scope and night vision goggles. He probably could’ve swung around to the side of the house to take out the men there, but if he couldn’t get them all before they returned fire, he’d have a tough time making it to the house. He needed to get to the men in the guardhouse first. Luckily there were some trees near the shore line that he could use as cover as he made his way to the front of the property.
Cain slowly went from tree to tree to get around the side of the property, taking about five minutes, not wanting to make too many movements to get recognized. He saw several parked cars which he made his way to. He looked around for cameras and noticed one near the front gate, and a few fixed on different entrances of the house. He located the guardhouse and saw one of the men standing near the entrance smoking a cigarette. Cain quickly scanned the rest of the area to see if anyone else was near but didn’t notice a soul in sight. He thought about quickly taking the one guard out but there was no guarantee whoever else was in the guardhouse would come out, compromising his position. He figured the best option he had would be to kill them from close range, taking them by surprise.
As soon as the guard put out his cigarette and turned his back to go inside, Cain quickly ran over to him. He got there in a few seconds and rushed through the open doorway. The two guards quickly jumped up from their seats, trying to grab their weapons off the table. Cain’s presence was too much for them and he quickly gunned them down at the hands of his silencer. He shot each of them in the chest then gave them one more in the head to make sure they were dead. He looked at the cameras to see where the rest of the men were and noticed three on the side. He waited a few minutes to see if anymore appeared but it seemed as though they were it. The rest must’ve been inside. It was past one in the morning so he assumed everyone else was sleeping. He shot the surveillance equipment, putting a bullet in each machine to render it useless so he couldn’t be later identified by the police when they investigated.
Cain left the guardhouse and knelt down in front of it so he could pick off the other men. He steadied his rifle and took aim at the men, who were loosely wearing their weapons. The scope of the rifle was aimed squarely at the forehead of the one man, Cain pulling the trigger, instantly dropping the unsuspecting victim. As soon as the bullet left the rifle, Cain took sights on the man next to him. The man watched his comrade drop in front of him and wasn’t sure what was happening. A second later he joined his friend, the bullet penetrating his back and exiting through the left side of his chest near his heart. The third man was able to pull his weapon but not before Cain had fired his final shot, and though he missed what he was aiming for, still killed the man with a bullet through the neck. He shook his head, unhappy with his final shot, trying for a bullet through the man’s head.
So far, everything was falling into place. Five of Kurylenko’s men had been slain, with anywhere from seven to nine more inside. Cain quickly moved to the side of the house, pondering his next move. Going through the front door was risky, he felt, as there could’ve been someone stationed there on the inside. He walked down the length of the house and found an open window. He quietly pulled the large piece of glass open further so he could squeeze in and did so without banging into anything.
It was a bedroom and Cain quickly noticed someone lying in the bed sleeping. He walked closer to the bed, ready to shoot the victim, but pulled back when he noticed it was just a boy. Probably no more than twelve or fourteen years old. He gently glided across the floor, hoping there were no creaks in it. He pulled the door open just enough to look down the hall. He started making his way down the hall, gun pointed directly in front of him, ready to take down anyone in his path.
He made his way to the living room and upon clearing it, started toward the kitchen. Cain thought he heard a noise coming from it but wasn’t positive. It was more like grumbling then voices. He peeked and saw four men passed out at the kitchen table. It was possible they were sleeping but judging from the amount of empty bottles on the table, countertop, and floor, that they were most likely passed out drunk. Without hesitation, Cain entered the kitchen and promptly put a bullet in each man’s back before returning to each man and firing one more round in the back of each of their heads. He exited the kitchen and started walking for the front door, clinging to the sides of the walls.
Once he got there, he peeked around the corner of the wall, and noticed two men sitting there in chairs, leaning back against the wall. Their eyes were closed and appeared to be sleeping. He moved in closer to finish them off but one of them jumped up and fired at Cain, barely missing him, the bullet flying past his head. Cain shot him in the face, instantly killing him, as the other man fell off his chair. He quickly grabbed his weapon, but it was too late, as Cain put two rounds into his chest. As the bullets entered the man’s body, his gun accidentally discharged, a bullet firing into the floor. Eleven men were down and if there were any more, by now knew he was there once they heard the shots fired.
Cain went back to the living room where he was met with a bullet whizzing past his ear. He jumped behind a
couch and returned fire in the direction the shot came from. He poked his head out from behind the sofa, just enough to get a look on the shooter. He patiently waited for the man to make his move. The other man didn’t seem to be in much of a hurry either as the two of them tried to outlast the other. After a minute or two of waiting, the Russian grew tired of the inactivity and revealed his position as he tried to get a better angle of Cain. It was all Cain needed as he fired at him, piercing the man’s shoulder, knocking him back a bit as he grimaced and grabbed his shoulder. Cain quickly seized the opportunity to finish him and ran over to him, shooting him point blank in the head.
As Cain stood over the fallen guard, a shot rang out, hitting Cain in the arm. He fell forward, rolling completely over, and firing a return shot in the process. He hit the man in the leg, completely shattering his shin, as he crumpled over in agony and held it. Cain quickly jumped to his feet and walked over to his attacker and noticed it was Kurylenko.
“I knew we’d meet again someday,” Kurylenko whispered, the pain almost unbearable. “I knew we would.”
“Yep,” Cain replied.
Cain didn’t wish to continue the conversation any longer to prolong the inevitable and put two bullets into Kurylenko’s head. Cain took out the tape recorder that contained Kurylenko’s phone call with Medvedev and dropped it next to Kurylenko’s hand. He assumed he was finished and relaxed for a moment only to hear one more shot, this one grazing his side. He stumbled but quickly turned around, ready to fire his weapon and kill whoever was before him, but hesitated once he saw who it was. It was the boy from the bedroom, holding a gun in front of him, aimed in Cain’s direction, smoke rising from his pistol. Sweat was pouring off of Cain’s body as he contemplated his next action, his gun pointed at the kid. Cain adjusted his grip on his gun, loosening his fingers before tightening them again. He knew he could easily kill the boy if he so desired but it wasn’t what he wanted. He also wasn’t sure what to do with him now. He wasn’t about to shoot him down in cold blood, but didn’t think he could just leave him there either.
“Who are you?” Cain asked without a reply. “What is your name?”
The boy still stood there, not answering his questions, with the gun still raised. Cain could see the kid was scared. The boy’s hand started wavering, the gun moving side to side, as his nervousness increased. He was scared the hit man was about to kill him like he did the rest of the men.
"Как тебя зовут?" Cain asked again. “Я не причиню тебе вреда. Просто скажите мне свое имя.”
“Sergei Kurylenko,” the frightened child replied.
“является то, что ваш отец?”
“да,” he responded.
“Здесь кто-нибудь есть?” Cain asked.
“нет.”
Cain put his hand out to the boy, palm exposed, and lowered his weapon, signaling to the boy he wasn’t going to hurt him. He walked closer to him and gently eased the weapon out of the boy’s hands. The younger Kurylenko didn’t put up a struggle as the gun left his hands. He then rushed over to his dead father, sobbing hysterically, as he knelt down and held his father’s head in his hands. Cain took his com link out and called Lawson to see what to do with him.
“Is it done?” Lawson excitedly asked.
“Almost.”
“What do you mean, almost? What’s left? Is Kurylenko dead?”
“He is. There’s a complication though,” Cain told her.
“What’s that?”
“His son. He’s about twelve or fourteen years old. I don’t know what to do with him.”
“Is he a problem?”
“Not at the moment,” Cain stated.
“Did he see anything?” Lawson asked.
“Yes,” Cain sighed.
“That is a problem, isn’t it?”
“That’s why I called.”
“Hold on, let me get Sanders on,” Lawson told him.
Cain exhaled and sat on the arm of the couch as he looked on at the boy sobbing over his dead father. It was the first time since Cain became an agent that he really felt guilty about a mission’s outcome. Although he knew that there must’ve been some innocent people who were hurt over some of the people he killed in the past year, he never saw their faces or heard their tears. This was different. He was looking in the eyes of a young boy, completely innocent of his father’s ways, who had no idea what was going on. But Cain had just turned his world upside down. The boy went to bed feeling safe and woke up with his life now destroyed. Cain had a feeling that this would stay with him for a while. He wouldn’t easily forget this. A minute later Sanders voice boomed into his earpiece.
“Cain, you there?” Sanders asked.
“Go ahead.”
“Shelly told me about your predicament. Unfortunately, there’s no easy way around this.”
“I figured as much,” Cain replied.
“I was hoping the boy wouldn’t be there when this happened but now we have to deal with it. Is he the last survivor?”
“Yes.”
“I’m trying to beat around the bush here, son, but there’s really no other way to say it,” Sanders stated.
“Which is what?” Cain asked, beginning to worry about what he was about to be told.
“You have to take the boy out.”
“What?” Cain asked again, tapping his earpiece to make sure he heard correctly, though he knew he did.
“He has to be eliminated,” Sanders repeated.
“No. I can’t do that.”
“I know it’s a rough thing to hear but it has to be done.”
“There has to be another way,” Cain objected.
“There is no other way and we can’t stand here arguing about it. You have to start moving before you get company.”
“I can’t do it.”
“You can and you will,” Sanders responded, his voice rising.
“He doesn’t deserve that just because of who his father is.”
“It’s because of who his father is that we can’t leave him. His father has likely already started teaching him the ways of his business.”
“You don’t know that,” Cain replied.
“I can almost guarantee that if you don’t eliminate this boy that you will regret it in ten years when he starts seeking revenge on who did this to his father. And you’ll be first on the chopping block,” Sanders warned.
“You’re assuming he’s gonna turn out like his father.”
“And you’re assuming he won’t. I think I’m more likely to be right on this than you.”
Cain looked up at the ceiling briefly before he closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He looked at the younger Kurylenko and wondered what kind of a future he’d likely have. Seeing the death of his father was a traumatic experience and would probably haunt him forever. He was trying to accept Sanders words as the truth but he just couldn’t justify killing a child, no matter what kind of man he was likely to become. Even if Sanders was correct in his assumption, how could he live with killing a child? It was easy for Sanders to say since he wasn’t the one who had to pull the trigger.
“Cain, you have to move,” Sanders said.
Cain didn’t reply and kept looking at the young son clutching his father’s face in his hands. A sadness came over Cain as he looked away from the duo. He wondered how they could honestly expect him to shoot a child down in cold blood. He looked at the other body laying on the floor and thought about how much easier it was to kill when the other person had a gun in their hands.
“Shelly, talk to him,” Sanders told his handler.
“Cain, are you there?” Lawson asked.
It took Cain a few seconds before responding, worrying his handler that they might’ve lost him. “I’m here.”
“I know this isn’t easy. I know it’s not,” she said, trying to appease him.
“Then don’t ask me to do it.”
“We all have to follow o
rders.”
“We don’t have to,” Cain replied. “Not when it’s something like this.”
“I know what you’re being asked to do is incomprehensible, and if I was in your shoes, I don’t know if I could do it either.”
“Then we agree.”
“You’re only looking at this from one angle.”
“Is there another one?” Cain wondered.
“Yes. That boy can identify you. If you’re identified as the killer than you will now become an international fugitive. Your picture will be everywhere and they will not rest until you’re found. You will cause a stir in the international community, putting the U.S. government at risk and causing serious jeopardy to this agency.”
“That’s not my main concern.”
“Well it ought to be,” Lawson reasoned.
“How can you ask me to do this?” Cain asked, struggling to accept his orders.
“Because there’s no other way.”
“What if I take him with me?”
“And do what with him?”
“That’s not the business we’re in, soldier,” Sanders chimed in. “You do what you’re told and get back here on the double, do you understand me?”
Cain’s eyes danced around the room as the struggle he was dealing with was clearly evident on his face. His eyes stopped dancing around as they fixated on the gun he clutched in his hand, resting against his leg. He looked at the gun then looked over at the boy hugging his father.
“Get it done,” Sanders yelled again. “That is a direct order.”
“Please, Cain, just do what’s asked,” Lawson said, wincing as the words left her lips, not believing she was actually advocating for killing a child.