“And once we find him?” asks Jessie. “Is this one of those any means necessary situations?”
I nod. “It is. Make no mistake, folks. This is the exact type of mission we were put together for. There’s no red tape. No senate confirmations. No Sit Room consultations. No government or military politics. No worrying about a press release or public reactions. We find him and we kill him.”
Link shakes his head. “This is fucking insane.”
I shrug. “This is the job.”
“But we ain’t assassins. We’re soldiers.”
“Is there a difference?”
“Of course, there is!”
I shake my head. “Only difference is that assassins get paid more.”
He walks away, across the room. He begins silently pacing back and forth in front of the TV.
Jessie stands. “Link has a point, Adrian. We’re supposed to be the good guys. I get that we have to do what needs to be done, but it doesn’t feel like we’re on the right side of this. It doesn’t feel as… I don’t know… legitimate as it did when I held a rank and wore my camos.”
I push myself away from the kitchen counter and walk over to the window. I stare out at the Thames for a moment, then lean on the glass and look back at her.
“This is the job, Jessie. We do what needs to be done. That’s why we’re here. The old ways of doing things won’t get it done against the people we’re fighting now. Not anymore. This is a whole new game. I’m here to teach you all how to play it.”
“But we’re supposed to be the good guys. We’re supposed to play by the rules. That’s what makes us better than people like Holt.”
I shake my head. “That’s not true at all. Now, all of you, listen up.” I pause until all three of them are looking at me. “If you learn nothing else from me, learn this: good guys don’t need rules. They don’t need constraints because they have the strength of character to instinctively know what’s right and what isn’t. It’s the bad guys who need rules, and my job here is to make you three understand why I spent the last twenty years living with so many.”
Silence falls inside the penthouse. Ruby appears next to me, offering a supportive smile.
I decide to hammer the point home to the team.
“I am capable of carrying out phenomenal acts of violence. But I don’t. Not really. I only ever do what’s necessary. I have my own rules. My own principles. I also had my old friend, who reined me in when things got too heavy. Now I have Ruby. I’ve made peace with the fact that I’m a bad guy. On paper, I’m one of the worst. I justify it to myself by saying that all the terrible things I’ve done were for a good reason. The right reason. Fortunately, there are few people who disagree. But that’s still who I am, and like it or not, that’s who you all need to be.”
I look at Jessie.
“The world has no place for good guys and bad guys anymore,” I say to her. “Just bad and worse. Not only do we have to play them at their own game, but we have to do it better in order to win.”
The gravity of my words echoes in the lingering silence. Beside me, Ruby places a hand on my arm. She knows how hard it is to admit who I really am. She’s offering the comfort I haven’t yet admitted that I need.
After a moment, Rayne gets to his feet and moves over to the kitchen counter. He leans back against it, as I did minutes earlier.
“Am I the only one worried by how much that makes sense?” he says.
Link shakes his head and smiles.
Jessie starts laughing. “That’s a really messed-up way of looking at things. But it’s a messed-up world out there, I guess.” She looks at me. “I can see why you got the job.”
I smile back. “Thanks.”
“So, really… what’s the next move?” asks Link. “We need to take the fight to Holt, right?”
I nod. “We do. The president’s gonna call me with the details of someone we can liaise with at the CIA. From there, we’ll try and track Holt’s movements since his original appearance in Serbia and see if we can—”
Ruby wanders in front of me, toward to the window. The expression of confusion and her furrowed brow distract me.
“Guys,” she says, pointing outside. “What’s that?”
I turn to look out the window. Rayne appears next to me. Link and Jessie move to Ruby’s side. Collectively, we all stare out, following Ruby’s finger.
The area of London we’re in is expensive. Not too many people around. Nice cars on the road. Across the street from our building is the River Thames, which threads around the city. Over the water, facing the apartment, is a large white building. It looks like a warehouse. Maybe a dock or something industrial. It stretches the full width of our view. Over to the right is one of the many bridges in London, linking to another district of the city.
The sky is bright and cloudy. The sun is high but not too warm. Ruby’s pointing out between the building opposite and the bridge, where something dark is silhouetted against the daylight.
I narrow my eyes, squinting to make out any detail.
“Yeah, what is that?” echoes Jessie.
The five of us stand in a line and gaze silently out, watching the dark shape grow larger as it gets closer.
It doesn’t take many moments to take form.
“You’re shitting me,” I mutter.
Weaving across the sky is a helicopter gunship. The noise of its blades grows louder as it gets nearer. It hovers above the edge of the water in front of our building. The thing is enormous!
It turns to the side, revealing a man standing behind a mounted chain gun. From this distance, we can all clearly see his face.
Armen Falikov.
He’s smiling and pointing the multiple barrels of his gun directly at our apartment.
At us.
No one says anything. No one moves. Like five deer caught in headlights, we stand and stare as death descends upon us.
Oh, shit…
22
13:58 BST
“Get down!” I yell as my brain reactivates.
We all scatter and seek cover as the thunderous roar of automatic gunfire rips through the air. The explosion of glass is immediately drowned out by the unsuppressed hail of bullets from outside.
Ruby and I scramble toward the kitchen, seeking refuge behind the center island. Link slides across the floor and stops next to us a heartbeat later, resting his back against the partitioning wall that separates the kitchen from the hallway. I risk a peek over the counter and see Jessie and Rayne crouched behind the wall, near the door.
What now feels like a chasm between us is being torn apart like paper. The floor and the sofas are being shredded. The rate of fire on that railgun is so high, the bullets just form a line like a laser. Holes are relentlessly punched into the walls. This kitchen counter isn’t going to last much longer, either.
Fuck.
“How the hell did he find us?” shouts Ruby.
I don’t answer. How he found us is irrelevant. The fact is, he found us, and if we don’t do something soon, we’re all dead.
I reach behind me and draw my Raptor. I check the mag to make sure it’s full. Beside me, Ruby has drawn hers too. I nod to it.
“Give that to me,” I say.
She looks at me, eyes narrowed with confusion. “Why?”
“Because I’m going to draw his fire while you get out of here.”
“What? Don’t—”
“I ain’t asking, Ruby. I need to get you and the rest of the team out of here. Give me the gun.”
I feel my face harden. My gaze ices over. My jaw is set.
She hands me the gun without another word. She’s seen my game face enough times to know not to argue with me when I’m wearing it.
I turn to Link. “On three, you get her and the others out of this building. No matter what.”
He holds my gaze and nods.
Ruby shuffles around behind me, to Link’s side. They both push up onto one knee, preparing to run.
Th
e stream of gunfire is fanning back and forth across the apartment. It chips and splinters the counter above my head. I grip both Raptors tightly, fingers inside the trigger guard, waiting.
After what feels like a lifetime, Falikov strafes his gun back over toward Jessie and Rayne.
I pop up. “Three!”
I unload both mags at the helicopter. I’m not trying to hit anything. I just need to distract Falikov long enough for Ruby and Link to get clear.
I let out a guttural roar as the chopper rocks back and forth outside, turning itself slightly to shield the fuel tank.
Both hammers slam down on an empty chamber just as Falikov stops firing. I look over and see Ruby and the others huddled in the doorway, beckoning me across. I quickly tuck both guns into my waistband—one in front, one behind. I make it halfway across the decimated apartment when I see the helicopter turning again. I look out to see it leveling out parallel to the building. There’s no sign of Falikov. The machine gun is hanging loose on its mount.
My eyes go wide as I see the man standing there instead, holding a rocket launcher.
He’s aiming to his right, lining up a shot at the door.
At the team.
I look over in horror and begin waving them away, urging them to turn and run.
“RPG!” I shout as I sprint for the door.
My legs feel heavy, like I’m trying to run in wet cement. I make it to the hallway as the whoosh! of the rocket fills the air behind me.
I open my mouth to shout, but the explosion erupts behind me. A cloud of dust and brick bursts out into the hallway, knocking all five of us to the floor.
…
…
…
A high-pitched whine drowns out all other sound. I’m lying face-down over by the railing next to the stairs, pushed up against the wall. I try to stand, but my movements are sluggish and uncoordinated. I manage to turn my head to look sideways.
Where is everyone?
I see the entrance to the apartment is twice the size it used to be. The door’s lying flat out here. I think someone’s underneath it. I see an arm sticking out from under it. I hope to God that’s still attached to someone.
Ahead of me, further along the hall, I see people strewn across the floor. I see Jessie and Ruby. I think that’s Link with them too. I can only make out the soles of his boots, which isn’t much to go on.
As the ringing in my ears begins to fade, the sound of the chopper outside rises back to prominence. The crackling of fire is audible too.
Thunk!
Thunk!
Thunk!
What the…
I look over at the top of the stairs. I see…
Shit.
I see gas. Lots of gas.
I immediately start coughing.
Through the thick mist, shadows emerge. Five of them. No, six. Maybe more. I don’t know. Figures dressed in black. I see guns.
Come on, legs. You need to start working.
The men in black swarm around us all. One of them bends down to grab me. I see a logo on his arm.
Sonofabitch.
Then he disappears. I look up to see Rayne spear him to the floor. The rest of them smother him. He’s going down fighting, but ultimately, he’s going down. He’s thrown backward, out of my line of sight.
The effort to keep my eyes open is too great. The coughing starts to pain my chest.
This gas, it’s—
??:??
What happened?
I look around me. I’m sitting up against the wall on the floor outside what’s left of the apartment.
Where is everyone?
The hallway is empty. The gas has cleared.
I cough heavily.
Jesus.
I think half of that shit went into my goddamn lungs.
I take a deep breath, which is more painful than it should be.
There’s movement to my left.
I try to push myself upright, but I’m too dizzy to do it properly. I make it halfway before falling against the railing overlooking the stairs. I drop to one knee to recover. I feel a hand on my arm. I snap around to see—
“Adam.” I let out a sigh of relief. “Christ. What the hell happened? Where is everyone?”
He hoists me to my feet. I lean back against the wall as he steps away.
Man, he looks like shit. Dust and blood cover his face. Some of his clothing is torn. His eyes look half-glazed.
“They took them,” he says. “Dragged them away like they were trash.”
“How come we’re still here?”
“The door hit me as it was blown off its goddamn hinges in the blast. I was pinned under it at first. Must’ve shielded me a little from the gas… bought me some valuable seconds. I held my breath and started swinging.”
I nod. “Yeah, I saw.”
“The rest of them took the guys away. Guess they thought they only needed two for me and you. I saw you go out. I was fading fast. Managed to floor one of them, grab his gun, and shoot the other in the leg as I fell. That’s the last thing I remember. I woke up about three minutes before you did.”
“Fuck. How long were we out?”
Rayne checks his watch. “About twenty minutes.”
I listen intently, straining just to get my ears to work again. The chopper’s clearly gone. I can hear commotion from the street outside.
“The cops will be here any minute, if they’re not already,” I say. “Probably why they left us here. Would’ve taken too much time to come back for us.”
“Who were those guys? They came out of nowhere.”
I look at him. “They were Tristar Security.”
He frowns. “Are you fucking serious?”
“Saw the logo on their uniform.”
“So, Holt hired Tristar for protection, as well as someone from your world? He ain’t playing.”
“No, he’s not.” I flick my head toward the apartment. “Let’s see if we can salvage anything before we get out of here. We should put some distance between us and this place.”
We both stagger inside.
Jesus, this place is a mess. The wind is strong, tearing through the large opening where the windows used to be. It whips around the apartment, blowing chunks of loose-hanging brickwork with it.
“Grab whatever weapons and ammo you can find in the bedrooms,” I say to Rayne. “We need to leave town.”
He nods. “You got it.”
As he heads along what’s left of the hallway, I take a look around. The sofas are destroyed. The kitchen looks like Swiss cheese. The TV is more like a jigsaw. The table is miraculously still standing, although it’s chipped and…
And has a cell phone on it.
“Is that yours?” I shout.
Rayne reappears, holding a bag, and looks over.
He shakes his head. “No. Mine’s in my pocket.”
I frown. “Huh. It isn’t mine. Looks new. Can’t be one of the team’s, either. No way it would’ve survived that onslaught.”
He walks over to me. As we both stand, bewildered, the phone starts ringing. We exchange a glance and shrug. I reach for it and answer, placing it on speaker and holding it up between us.
I don’t say anything.
“Adrian Hell,” says a voice on the other end. Strong. Confident. American.
“Hello, Holt,” I reply.
“This is your only warning. Stay the fuck out of my business.”
I take a deep breath. “Well, we both know that’s not happening. Where’s the rest of my team?”
“They’re safe—for now. They’re a little insurance policy. I have a job to do, and I can’t have you or your new friends interfering. So, here’s how this is going to work. You’re going to forget all about me, and when I’m done, I’ll release your team unharmed. I get so much as a sniff of you before then, I will broadcast the slow deaths of all three of your friends on the internet, just for you.” He pauses. “I know how much you like online torture porn.”
I
can hear him grinning. Arrogant prick.
Focus.
“I need a guarantee they’re safe,” I say. “Proof they’re not already dead.”
“They’re not. You have my word.”
“Which is worth… what, exactly?”
Holt laughs down the line. “You’ve probably figured out who I am by now. Or, should I say, who I was. You know how we operate, Adrian. Better than most, as I recall. Leverage is everything. I know what you’re capable of. Your involvement in this is unfortunate but not completely unexpected, given your tendency to stick your guns where they don’t belong. I don’t have time to deal with you. Keeping them alive is an easy way to make sure you do as you’re told without wasting any more manpower.”
“I swear to God, Holt, you hurt them and I’ll—”
“We’re done talking. You’ve had your only warning. You interfere in my affairs again, I turn on my webcam. Now fuck off.”
The line clicks dead.
“Holy shit,” says Rayne. His voice is little more than a whisper. “What are we going to do now?”
I stare at the phone in my hand for a moment, then launch it out the window with a scream of fury.
I look around at him. He takes a step back as he stares into my eyes. The color drains from his face. I know what he’s seeing. I know what’s looking back at him. I can feel it, alive and free for the first time in a long time.
Behind my blue eyes, my Inner Satan burns with a rage unlike anything I’ve felt in recent memory.
My breathing is deep and fast, trying to balance the rush of adrenaline surging through me, numbing any pain and fueling my anger. My teeth are gritted together so hard, my jaw is aching.
“We’re gonna go get our team back.”
23
17:04 BST
This is a goddamn nightmare. I’m so… just… fucking angry. I don’t know which way to turn. I don’t know what to do with myself. I feel like I’m in a maze without walls. The way Holt just attacked me and took my team from me like I’m nothing. Who the fuck does he think he is?
The Devil You Know Page 17