“Thank God for that. I thought I would have to hear that chatty Kathy act all the way to the gate,” John said.
“What act?” Curtis asked, amused.
“I will punch you through a plane if you keep talking,” John said.
Curtis chuckled, then pulled out his phone. He typed a text message and walked deeper into the airport.
“I appreciate the help getting me out of that spot, but I have no intention of leaving here right now,” John said.
He expected resistance and was surprised to hear the opposite.
“I knew you would say that. Where to?”
“We need to find where they took Takada,” John said, looking at the signs around them. “Get Parker on the line, find out if there’s anything he can do.”
Curtis chuckled, dialing Parker’s number.
“What’s so funny?”
“Seems that our little hacker friend knew you would be asking for some assistance, so he―” Curtis held up a finger. “Hey, Parker. I got John with me. I’m putting you on speaker.”
“Hey John. I’ve been digging around, and I think I may have found something,” Parker said.
John raised an eyebrow. “What do you mean you’ve been digging around?”
“Didn’t Curtis tell you?” A faint clicking filled in the gaps between Parker’s words. “I had him run some software on the RAID systems.”
“You did what? When were you going to fill me in, Curtis?”
“Now,” Curtis said. “Before I flew out here, Parker sent me some files to copy onto this.” He held up a small flash drive.
John turned to face Curtis. “Are you telling me you just opened up the French national police computers up to an American citizen? A civilian at that. Do you realize how hard this could land on us?”
“On me,” Curtis said. “I’m the one that uploaded it.”
“They won’t be able to trace it back to either one of you,” Parker said. “It’s pretty ingenious, actually. The way it works is―”
“I don’t need to know the details, Parker,” John said. “Look, what’s done is done. I’ll clean up this mess once we find Dr. Takada. Did your little program conjure up an answer?”
“I mean, it’s not that simple.”
“Yes or no, Parker,” Curtis said.
“I―Yes. Or at least I’ve got my fingers on the most promising thread from Gavreau’s case files.” Parker typed away at his keyboard for another moment. “John, that car you saw the doctor get into was spotted by several witnesses.”
“Perfect. Send the location to Curtis. We’ll grab a car and head there now,” John said.
“Well, RAID is tracking the car now, but they don’t have a location yet,” Parker said.
John’s mouth formed a straight line. “Alright, when you do get the location, send it over right away.”
“And what do you mean grab a car?” Curtis asked.
CHAPTER
21
Bièvres, Essonne - RAID Headquarters
Gavreau stared down at the page of notes on his desk. What have you done, Doctor.. He sat back and wiped his hands across his eyes. “Dammit, Brassard. How did I not see it?”
“Sir,” Silvestre said, knocking on the already opened door of the office. “You wanted us to let you know when we found the vehicle that took the doctor.”
“Yes, thank you. Did you find where they are taking Takada?”
“Not yet,” Silvestre said. “The vehicle has been spotted on several CCTV cameras already. They’ve abandoned it, switching to a car of the same model.”
“Great job. Keep me appraised of the situation. Have the rest of the team ready to move out.”
Silvestre nodded. “Sir.”
Gavreau stood. “Just a minute.” He walked over to the door placing a hand on the agent’s shoulder. “Brassard was one of us. I understand how that may affect the morale of the team, but we must stop bin Hashim before the Serpents strike again.”
“Understood, sir.” Silvestre nodded again, his face showing a level of resolve that let Gavreau know his words got through.
He watched the younger man join the others, diving back into the mission. Gavreau laced his fingers behind his neck and stretched. He tightened his jaw and relaxed, feeling the tension slowly abate. The blood of the innocents is on your hands, Christopher.
The tension grew in his neck and shoulders again.
* * *
John looked over the Mercedes G-Class jeep that Curtis parked at the curb. “Where did you get this thing?”
“Some pimp just gave it to me. Says he didn’t need it anymore,” Curtis said, massaging the knuckles on his hand.
“Are you serious?”
“Does it matter?”
“I suppose not,” John said, sitting in the passenger seat. “We’ve got a lot more to deal with right now. Besides, this thing should still be in pretty good shape by the time we’re done with it.”
“Less the gas we’re using,” Curtis said, starting the engine.
“You get the location from Parker?” John buckled the seatbelt, staring off into the nighttime traffic.
“Yeah, we’re about half an hour away.” Curtis pulled into the street, merging with the cars flowing down the street. “Do you have any idea of what to expect when we get there?”
John shook his head. “Nothing good. At least half a dozen men armed with Skorpion SMGs. If bin Hashim is there, we can expect a lot more.”
“Wonderful. Wouldn’t have it any other way.” Curtis smirked at John.
“I already know the answer, but I need to ask, did you bring any weapons with you?”
“Like you said, you already know the answer. Sorry, Lieutenant, but we’re going to have to procure weapons on site.”
“I hate last minute shopping,” John said.
“Seriously, John, the location that Parker passed on is directly from RAID’s system. Gavreau and the others know what we know.” Curtis shot him a quick glance. “They’ll be knocking the door down too.”
“For once, we’ve got the advantage operating with a small team,” John said. “They’ll have to plan out their approach. Discuss tactics and contingencies for what they may run into on site.”
“Part of that is gearing up,” Curtis said. “That’s the step I would rather not skip.”
“Can’t be helped,” John said.
Curtis smiled, keeping his eyes fixed on the road. “Looks like we’ll be renewing our subscriptions to Guns & Ammo when we get there.”
John groaned. “You’ve been hanging around Parker too long.”
CHAPTER
22
Bièvres, Essonne - RAID Headquarters
“And this information is accurate? Up to the minute?” Gavreau pressed a finger onto the file sitting in front of him.
“Yes, sir,” Deschanel said. “We’ve got a request in for satellite surveillance as well. But this information is ninety-eight percent accurate.”
“Excellent. Have the men ready to roll in five. We’ll discuss tactics en route.” Gavreau stood and nodded to Deschanel, heading out to join the rest of the team.
* * *
Serpent’s Lair
Hurried footsteps filled the temporary workspace. Azhaar bin Hashim looked around as his men carried out his commands, preparing the equipment to Dr. Steven Takada’s specifications. They had assembled the components necessary for him to launch the weapon, and now bin Hashim grew impatient as the doctor continued pecking away at his keyboard.
“What is the hold-up, Takada?” he asked, picking up a random piece of tech on the man’s desk.
“Everything is on schedule. I’m just starting up all of the subroutines necessary before launch.” Dr. Takada adjusted his glasses and looked up.
“You assured me that our first strike would require only minimal calculations,” bin Hashim said.
“Yes, we won’t need to account for many of the variables of a longer range target, but this initial salvo is still import
ant to future attacks,” Takada said, fingers still flying across the keys.
Azhaar clenched his fists and closed his eyes, the doctor oblivious to the man’s frustration. He took a deep breath through his nose and exhaled audibly.
“Important How?”
Dr. Takada removed his glasses, cleaning them with a small cloth from his coat pocket. “I need to tie this all into the same targeting software, networked across various data servers for the drone to course correct, ensuring the best ballistic trajectory.”
“Explain it to me without all of the technobabble, Doctor.” Bin Hashim struggled to maintain his composure.
“Well, the targeting software pulls its data from various nodes to determine how local weather patterns will affect the javelin once it’s in flight.” He put his glasses on and pushed them up the bridge of his nose. “These are unguided projectiles, so accounting for wind speeds, temperature, and humidity will ensure the most precise strike.”
“Why is that all necessary for this?” Azhaar gestured to the drone, modeled after America’s MQ-9 Reaper. “Once it reaches the target airspace, it is only a simple matter of dropping the javelins on our enemies.”
“It’s not that simple―”
Azhaar bin Hashim slammed his fist onto the desk, rattling the monitor and keyboard. Dr. Takada’s eyes widened as he drew his hands close to his chest, leaning away as fear flooded his features.
“You dare second guess me?” bin Hashim narrowed his eyes to slits.
“I―I, no. No, bin Hashim, er, sir. I―” Takada stammered as he readjusted his glasses.
Azhaar stared into the man’s eyes, partially obscured by the thumbprint on one of the lenses. “Please explain to me why it is not that simple, Dr. Takada.” He softened his tone but maintained the menacing edge in his gaze.
After several tense moments and deep breaths, Takada continued. “In order to maintain a high level of precision with the weapon, I need as much data as possible.”
“Go on.”
Takada nodded. “Right now, we have enough information to target a specific building, but with the right type of attack, I can gather even more. I will be able to tighten the formula and bring the effective radius to three meters. You will be able to target individuals with a high level of accuracy.”
Azhaar straightened up and smiled.
Dr. Takada’s confidence returned. “And I’m not talking about strikes at twenty or thirty thousand feet. A successful strike would allow us to target our enemy from great range, effectively lobbing the javelins at a great rate of speed from altitudes beyond the effective ceiling of most military aircraft.”
“Thank you, Doctor,” bin Hashim said. “That is what I wanted to hear. Now, how much more time do you require?”
“Uh, maybe an hour,” Takada said. “We can get the drone up in half that time, and I can push the rest of the calculations through the network and upload it in flight.”
“Very good.” Azhaar turned, switching to Arabic. “Kaliq, keep the doctor safe. Get him whatever he needs to complete his task.”
The assassin nodded, holding one of the tungsten-rich kinetic penetrator javelins, rocking side to side as he adjusted the angle of the projectile, letting its weight carry his body back and forth.
CHAPTER
23
The early evening air still clung to its warmth, and John pulled off his jacket, letting the breeze hit his skin. He and Curtis left the Mercedes behind and traveled the remaining few miles on foot, the exertion warming his body and joints, preparing him for the fight ahead.
Curtis rolled his sleeves up past his elbows and knelt in the shadows next to John. “I only see the one man,” he said, pointing in the direction of a lone sentry, walking the perimeter.
“He’s armed and alert,” John said. “They may not be expecting company, but these guys definitely aren’t taking any chances.”
“It’s open ground too,” Curtis said, shaking his head. “We would have to cover a good twenty yards to reach him. That’s plenty of time to dump a mag into our bodies.”
“That’s if we’re stupid enough to rush him from the front,” John said. “I’m going to move around to flank him. When you see me in position, get his attention.”
“In position? How am I supposed to know that?” Curtis whispered.
“I trust you,” John said, making his way down the small slope to circle around the guard.
He could hear Curtis’ frustrated curses as he moved. John made his way to a short row of bushes and belly crawled toward a pair of trees, giving him the best angle to approach the sentry. He waited for the man to double back before making his move.
As the man turned his back, John stepped onto the grassy strip to muffle the sound of his boots. He closed half the distance, only a short sprint away as his heart thumped in his chest. Before John could second-guess his plan, he heard a faint whistling in the distance. A terrible bird call sounded from where he left Curtis.
The sentry stopped in his tracks, leaning forward as his hand fell to his belt, pulling a flashlight.
John leaned his body forward, driving ahead into a full rush. The guard’s light clicked on, but John’s approach pulled the man’s attention away from the whistling. He spun and whipped the beam behind him.
John carried his momentum forward, grasping the barrel of the man’s AK-47, and thrusting the weapon upward to smash into the sentry’s face, knocking several teeth loose. He followed with a sledgehammer, as his fist cracked the jaw of his opponent, laying him out.
Curtis ran the last few yards as the man’s body hit the asphalt. He held his hands up, ready to join the fight.
“What kind of bird was that supposed to be?” John asked.
“That was a North American Smartass, smartass,” Curtis said. “It worked, didn’t it?”
John smiled. He untangled the rifle’s sling from the unconscious guard, handing the weapon to Curtis.
“Thanks,” he said, kneeling and checking the weapon’s chamber.
John handed him a spare magazine and pulled a pistol from the holster on the man’s hip. He eased the slide of the Sig Sauer P226 back enough to check for brass in the chamber. Patting the man down, he found no other weapons or ammunition.
“Grab his radio,” John said.
Curtis pulled the device from the man’s inner pocket and yanked the earpiece free, tucking it into his own ear. He fiddled with the dial before giving a thumbs up.
With a grunt John leaned over to retrieve the flashlight that the sentry dropped, testing the beam against his palm. “Let’s go.”
“It’s your show,” Curtis said, clutching the rifle close to his body as they moved toward the serpent’s lair.
* * *
John reached a car similar to the one he saw Dr. Takada get into at the convention center. He placed a hand on the hood and peered into the distance.
“Still warm?” Curtis asked as he propped his rifle on the trunk, taking aim at the only building in the area.
“Barely,” John said. “This is the same make and model. They must have switched cars on the way.”
“How can you be sure?” Curtis asked.
John tapped the windshield. “No bullet holes. And the tire is intact.”
Curtis smirked. “No, I mean, how do you know they’re here?”
“I don’t. Cover me while I head to that side door,” John said.
“Wait,” Curtis said, pressing a finger into the earpiece of the stolen radio.
“What are they saying?” John asked.
“They’re speaking Arabic,” Curtis replied. “I don’t know what he just said, but my guess is that they’re asking why our friend back there hasn’t checked in. Should we wait and see what happens next?”
“No. We should move forward,” John said.
As if on cue, the front and side doors opened as several men exited the building, carrying flashlights and spreading out. Each man held a Scorpion SMG in their other hand, slung close to their b
odies as they began their search.
“Wonderful,” Curtis said. “Looks like our friends have moved up the timetable.”
“We can’t engage them this far out,” John said. “They would pin us down before we could get inside and find the doctor.”
“Hide under the car?” Curtis asked, tilting his head to look underneath the vehicle.
John glanced down at the available clearance and held in a chuckle. “I think they would spot us like a rock under a doormat if we crawled under this thing.”
He grasped a handle and held his breath as he eased the driver side door open. He sighed in relief when the car’s cabin lights didn’t turn on. John climbed in as Curtis did the same, laying across the back seats. Crawling over to the passenger side, John slouched down as much as he could, dipping his head below the dashboard, clutching the P226 in both hands.
Beams of light waved around, one passing through the windows of the car as the men spoke in hushed tones. One of the sentries passed along the rear of the vehicle, making his way to the outer perimeter, calling other men on the radio. Curtis listened in on the transmissions, still unable to make out the bulk of the discussion. The voices and light receded into the distance.
“We’re clear, but it won’t be long until they find our buddy snoozing in the shadows out there,” Curtis said.
John opened the passenger door and slid out. “We’ll deal with them later. I just need to get inside and see what we’re up against.”
“Later is about to be a lot sooner than we would like, John. We’ve got a rifle and pistol between us, and we just watched a half dozen men armed with fully automatic sub guns walk by us, in a perfect position to hit our flank when the shooting starts.” Curtis checked the chamber of his weapon out of nervous habit as their situation grew more complicated.
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