Eternal Night

by Richard Turner

  “Thank you,” said Mohamed in Mitchell’s headset. “May Allah always look over you.”

  “Make sure you hit them hard, and then disperse into the desert before the mine’s owners and the government can react,” replied Mitchell.

  A burst of tracers reached up from below, missing the front of the helicopter by mere meters. Yuri banked the chopper over hard and steered toward the border with Mali, where a team of people was waiting to look after Mister Timbo and the freed slaves.

  Mitchell placed his weapon on safe and walked over to Jackson’s side.

  “I thought the boss told us to only use non-lethal means to free the slaves,” said Jackson.

  “And we did,” replied Mitchell. “Those conditions ended the second we had Mister Timbo in our care. Besides, Mohamed needed a little air support to get the job done.”

  Jackson shook his head and chuckled. “So, what are you going to tell Jen about tonight’s activities?”

  “The truth. Unlike your much-better-half, mine reads the daily situation reports, and you just know that this incident will be front and center of tomorrow’s report.”

  Jackson patted his friend on the back. “I’m telling my wife we went fishing for a few days and leaving it at that. I love her with all my heart, but recently she’s been giving me the gears about retiring from the job before something bad happens to me.”

  Mitchell creased his brow. “And what do you think of her suggestion?”

  “I’m torn. I love her, but I can’t in good conscience let you go traipsing all around the world without some adult supervision. You’d be dead in a week. I’ll take her on a cruise, and by the time we get back, she’ll have forgotten the whole thing.”

  “Nate, you forget, I’ve met Kelly. You’ll be lucky if it doesn’t cost you a couple of vacations and some really nice jewelry to get her to let this slide for a while. She’s tenacious.”

  “That she is.”

  Mitchell chuckled, but deep down, he knew his friend was telling the truth. He needed Jackson at his side to be his conscience. They were a pair who would lay down their lives for the other without batting an eye. All of Mitchell’s people were close to him. It was like having a tight-knit second family, one that any of them could never let down.

  4

  Polaris Headquarters,

  Newark, New Jersey

  Mitchell drove his brand-new Jeep Grand Cherokee down the winding road toward Polaris’ main headquarters building. It had been two months since their mission in Africa, and it was time for everyone to get back to work. Jen, growing restless on maternity leave, had insisted on coming to work this morning. Mitchell chuckled when he spotted the same family of deer that somehow managed to gain access to the guarded facility nibbling on the newly-cut grass.

  “Look, Sarah, there are some deer,” said Jen to their six-month-old daughter, buckled in her car seat.

  Mitchell smiled. He’d been positive he’d hit the jackpot when Jen agreed to marry him. But now, their lives had become even more complete with the arrival of their daughter, Sarah Elizabeth Mitchell. He parked in his usual spot, got out of the SUV, and opened the door so Jen could unbuckle Sarah’s car seat and transfer it over to her collapsible stroller. Mitchell looked over at the visitors’ parking spots and let out a whistle at a sleek-looking, gloss-black Vision Mercedes-Maybach Cabriolet 6.

  “No, you can’t have one,” said Jen.

  “We couldn’t afford one,” replied Mitchell.

  “Good morning,” said a security guard in greeting, as they entered the building.

  Mitchell unholstered his pistol and slid it through the scanner, while Jen took Sarah in her arms and walked through a metal detector. It was a drill they’d done hundreds of times. Only this time, it was Sarah’s first visit to the complex.

  “Thank you,” said the guard, handing Mitchell back his pistol.

  “Thanks, Tom,” replied Mitchell. “How’s the new leg treating you?”

  “Much better now that the new prosthetic has arrived. Thanks for asking.” He grinned and made a silly face at Sarah, who stared at him, wide-eyed. “You have a beautiful child, ma’am,” said Tom, with a big smile.

  “Thanks,” replied Jen, as she made Sarah comfortable in her stroller.

  “Say, Tom, do you know who owns that sweet-looking Mercedes out front?” asked Mitchell.

  “I believe it belongs to a potential new client,” replied Tom. “If you think the car is nice, wait until you meet its owner.”

  “There you are,” said Jackson, his voice booming down the corridor. “And I see you’ve brought my favorite little girl with you.”

  “She insisted on seeing her Uncle Nate,” replied Jen.

  “It’s good to see the two of you.”

  “I was going stir-crazy at home,” said Jen. “Don’t get me wrong. I love being a mom, but I also need to challenge myself from time to time. So, I thought it was high time I brought Sarah around so people can see her, and I could check out the newly opened daycare facility.”

  Jackson bent over the stroller and made a funny face. Sarah’s dark-brown eyes lit up as she giggled.

  “Thank God she has her mother’s good looks,” joked Jackson.

  “I can’t argue with that,” agreed Mitchell.

  “Ryan, the boss asked me to track you down right away and bring you up to his office,” said Jackson. “He’s got a prospective client with him, and he’d like us to meet her.”

  “If you’re both leaving me, I think I’ll pop downstairs and take Fahimah for a coffee in the staff canteen,” said Jen.

  “Sounds good,” said Mitchell, leaning over to give his wife a kiss on the cheek. “This shouldn’t take long. We can take a look at the daycare services together, once Nate and I are done with the general.”

  “Come on, Romeo,” Jackson teased, taking Mitchell by the arm.

  They took the stairs to the next floor and walked into General Jack O’Reilly’s office. Louise Torrez, the general’s new personal assistant, sat behind her desk. She was a Hispanic woman in her late thirties and dressed in a dark blue outfit.

  “General, Mister Mitchell and Mister Jackson are here to see you,” announced Louise.

  “Send them in,” said O’Reilly.

  Mitchell went first. Right away, he was struck by the stunning beauty of the woman in O’Reilly’s office. She wasn’t overly tall, and looked to be about thirty years old. She had a taut body, and blonde hair that was curled up in a bun on the back of her head. The woman had a slender, beautiful face with piercing blue eyes. She wore a light gray business suit with a white shirt that was open at the neck, and very chic Italian leather shoes on her feet. Mitchell immediately felt underdressed in his tan slacks and blue Polo shirt.

  “Gents, let me introduce you to Dawn,” said O’Reilly.

  Mitchell held out his hand and looked deep into Dawn’s eyes. He could see she was sizing him up as well. “Good Morning, Miss—?”

  The woman smiled. “Dawn. That’s all there is to my name.”

  “Well, I’m Ryan Mitchell, and my colleague here is Nathaniel Jackson, but he prefers to be called Nate,” said Mitchell. He noted a slight hint of a French accent in Dawn’s voice.

  Dawn shook both men’s hands.

  “Let’s take a seat,” said O’Reilly.

  Once everyone was seated around the polished-oak coffee table in O’Reilly’s office, Louise brought in a silver serving tray, with four cups and a carafe of coffee on it.

  Mitchell stood, took the tray from Louise, and sat it down on the table. He smiled at the woman. “Thanks, you’re a lifesaver. I’m dying for a fresh cup of coffee.”

  “Do you need anything else, sir?” Louise asked the general.

  “No, thank you. This will be all for now,” he replied.

  Louise nodded, and closed the door behind her.

  O’Reilly reached over and poured the coffee. “Gents, Dawn has a business proposition that could be quite lucrative for the company, if we wer
e to accept the assignment.”

  “I’m all ears,” said Mitchell.

  “I’m open to being paid a nice, fat bonus,” added Jackson.

  Dawn placed her cup down and looked at the two retired Army Rangers. “Gentlemen, to be succinct, my employer, Grace Maxwell, has gone missing, and as per her instructions, she wants you to find her.”

  “Come again? Grace…?” said Mitchell, a sudden knot forming in his gut.

  “Each one of Ms. Maxwell’s employees must fill out certain personal documents, one of which contains instructions on what should or should not happen if they were ever to go missing during the application of their duties. Ms. Maxwell’s made it quite clear that you, Mister Mitchell, and whomever you deem necessary, are to find and bring her home, dead or alive.”

  “How do you know that she’s gone missing?” asked Jackson. “Perhaps she just wanted a long vacation?”

  Dawn shook her head. “I’m Ms. Maxwell’s operations advisor, and I can assure you that she has disappeared off the face of the Earth while on assignment.”

  Mitchell leaned forward. “What was Grace doing when she vanished?”

  “That’s the problem. I don’t really know.”

  “So, you’re telling us that you have absolutely no idea what she was doing when she went missing?” asked Jackson in disbelief.

  “That’s correct,” replied Dawn. “She took on this assignment without discussing the particulars with me. It’s not the first time she’s done this, but it’s the first time she’s gone more than three weeks without communicating her whereabouts to me. I fear she may have met with foul play.”

  “Dawn, I don’t want to be blunt, but this is an impossible request,” said Mitchell. “If we don’t know what she was up to, how can we hope to find her?”

  Dawn reached into a pocket, and handed Mitchell a business card. “I found this on her desk.”

  Mitchell read it. “Monsieur Jean Chevalier, avocat. So, he’s a lawyer who has an office in Monte Carlo, and this is all you have for us to go on?”

  “That is correct.”

  “Have you tried calling this lawyer?” asked Jackson.

  “Dozens of times, but he has yet to return any of my calls.”

  “You know, this could be a fake business card,” said Mitchell, handing it over to Jackson.

  “Mister Michell, I wouldn’t have come here if Monsieur Chevalier wasn’t a real person,” replied Dawn. “I had one of our people in France check him out. He lives and works in Monaco, but holds a French passport. His specialty is corporate law.”

  “So why didn’t he ever return your calls?” asked O’Reilly.

  Dawn shrugged. “I wish I knew.”

  “This isn’t much to go on,” said Mitchell.

  “It’s less than wafer thin,” added Jackson.

  “I’m sorry, but it’s all I have,” responded Dawn. Mitchell could hear a note of desperation seeping into the woman’s voice.

  Mitchell looked over at his boss. “General, what do you think? Should we pay Monsieur Chevalier a house call, and see what he knows about Grace’s disappearance?”

  Dawn jumped in. “Gentlemen, before you make up your minds, please be aware that the reward for finding and returning Ms. Maxwell dead or alive to me is ten million dollars. All of your business expenses will naturally be covered by our firm as well. You shouldn’t have to pay for a thing out of your own pockets.”

  “Ten million is a lot of dough,” said Jackson.

  “It is. However, I share Ryan’s concerns,” said O’Reilly. “Before we go too far down the rabbit hole on this assignment, I think it would be wise to investigate any connection Ms. Maxwell may have had with this lawyer. If there’s none, then the mission is effectively over. Dawn, until I agree that my people will take on this assignment full-time, all you need do is cover their initial travel expenses.”

  “Money is not a problem, General,” replied Dawn, handing the general two gold-plated credit cards, along with a couple of her personal business cards.

  O’Reilly raised an eyebrow at Mitchell and Jackson’s names already stamped on the credit cards. “Dawn, if my people discover something tangible which could lead them to Ms. Maxwell, then, and only then, will I have a legally binding contract between ourselves drawn up.”

  “Thank you, sir. Oh, one last thing before I forget. Mister Yuri Uvarov, one of your shadier business associates, was with Ms. Maxwell when she went missing.”

  Mitchell shook his head. “I knew he’d worked with her from time to time in the past. However, I wasn’t aware that he’d taken on another assignment with her.”

  “Have you heard from Yuri recently?” asked O’Reilly.

  Mitchell shook his head and reached for his phone. He tried three numbers before putting his phone away.

  “Anything?” asked Jackson.

  “Nothing,” replied Mitchell. “He usually answers one of his phones when I call. I don’t like this.”

  Dawn checked her watch and stood. “Gentlemen, I must go. General O’Reilly, I look forward to hearing from you in the very near future.”

  “You do realize that you’re not being very inconspicuous with that car of yours,” said Mitchell.

  “That’s the reason I must be leaving,” responded Dawn. “I have to return it before the man who owns it notices that it’s missing and calls the police.” With that, she smiled and let herself out of the room.

  “Where on earth does Grace find her people?” mused Jackson.

  “I have no idea, but she sure does know how to pick them,” said Mitchell.

  “General, I have an idea that might help speed things along,” said Jackson.

  “Oh, this ought to be good,” joked Mitchell.

  “No, no, this is a good one. Why don’t we use Jen and Fahimah to look into Yuri’s activities before he went missing with Grace?” suggested Jackson. “He might help lead us to her.”

  “I was just thinking the same thing,” said O’Reilly. He looked at Mitchell. “Do you think Jen would mind coming in for a few days?”

  “Are you kidding me?” said Mitchell. “She’d love the distraction. Sam and Gordon are still off for a few more days. I don’t see the point of calling them in until we have something to go on.”

  O’Reilly raised a hand. “Actually, Sam and Gordon are doing me a small favor right now. I didn’t call you to let you know what was going on, as it only came up late last night and I knew you’d be in this morning.”

  Mitchell raised an eyebrow. “Nothing dangerous, I hope?”

  “Far from it. A friend of mine from Russia called me up and asked if I could have someone hand-deliver a package to his elderly great-aunt. The parcel is already here in New York and is waiting for someone to pick it up. I think it’s a family heirloom. My friend hasn’t spoken with his great-aunt in years, and isn’t sure of her current mental health. So, we both thought it better if some of my people took the time to pay her a visit. Since she lives in New York, I thought Sam and Gordon could do the honor before reporting for duty.”

  “I like that,” said Jackson. “It’s far classier for someone to hand you something as precious as a family heirloom, than it is to receive it in the mail from a stranger.”

  Mitchell sat back in his chair. “Sounds, good, sir.”

  “Okay, then, it’s agreed,” said O’Reilly. “Gentlemen, please make your travel arrangements and head over to Monaco as soon as you can. I have a feeling that this may be a fool’s errand, but you never know what might turn up.”

  “One thing is for sure, we can’t walk around Monte Carlo looking like a pair of escapees from the local golf course,” said Mitchell.

  “What’s wrong with the way I’m dressed?” asked Jackson, tugging at his overly large, short-sleeved shirt.

  “Ryan’s right,” said O’Reilly handing over Dawn’s credit and business cards. “Do some shopping this afternoon at her expense, and try to look like you both have money.”

  “Nate, I’ve seen
your taste in suits, so you’d better let your better half choose your clothes this time,” joked Mitchell.

  “What’s wrong with a light-blue suit?” replied Jackson.

  “Gents, I think we’re done here,” said O’Reilly. “Mike Donaldson and I have to go over next year’s operating budget. You’re both more than welcome to sit down and crunch figures with us, if you like.”

  Mitchell knew that was their cue to leave. “Sounds like tons of fun, but I think Nate and I should make those travel arrangements.”

  O’Reilly’s expression turned serious. “Gentlemen, as far as I’m concerned, our slate with Ms. Maxwell is clean. If she’s gotten herself involved in something we would never take on, then I’m relying on your good judgment on what to do next. Never forget that she’s nothing more than a gun for hire, and that Yuri’s motives aren’t always in line with our own.”

  Mitchell nodded. “Sir, you know that Nate and I would never do anything that would bring dishonor to you or the organization. But if there’s the slightest possibility that we can get Grace and Yuri back, I’m going to take it. Without them, Sam would be dead. I owe them that.”

  “Just be careful.”

  “We will,” said Jackson. “Come on, Captain, time to round up our wives and go shopping.”

  5

  Ryan and Jen lay in bed listening to the baby monitor on the nightstand, as their child slept in the next room.

  “Thank goodness for that credit card,” said Jen. “That outfit of yours cost nearly five thousand dollars.”

  “Hey, the boss said to look the part,” replied Mitchell, pulling Jen closer to his body. He could feel her warmth on his bare chest.

  “How long do you think you’ll be gone?”

  “Two to three days, at the most. If the lawyer in Monte Carlo turns out to be a dead end, I’m afraid that’s most likely the end of the mission.”