He laughs.
“Anyway, fear isn’t a bad thing,” I say. “Fear keeps you human. Keeps you grounded. Keeps you focused. Fear is a good motivator as long as you control it. I’m not scared of heights. I don’t like them, and I acknowledge how dangerous they can be, but I deal with them when I have to.”
Rayne nods. “That makes sense. So, why don’t you like planes?”
I sigh. “Because I’m rarely in one that I don’t get thrown or blown out of.”
“Oh.”
I gesture around us. “Last time I was in one of these things, The Order pushed me out the back of it as we were flying over a forest in Vietnam.”
“Jesus.” He stares through wide eyes at the floor. “You had a parachute on, right?”
I roll my eyes. “No, I just bounced off the fucking trees…”
“There’s no need to be sarcastic.”
“There’s always a need to be sarcastic.”
I am so proud of you right now.
I smile to myself as I imagine Josh’s reaction to that.
After a few moments of silence, Rayne looks over at me again.
“Hey, can I ask you something?”
I shrug. “Go for it.”
“Before, back at the base, you said nothing good comes from you being in Rome. What did you mean?”
I lean back and glance at the roof, resting my head against the netting. I let out a long sigh.
I hate this story.
“Back when I went up against The Order, it was in Rome,” I begin. “The leader of it was the Camerlengo of the Vatican.”
He frowns. “The what?”
“Basically, the Pope’s accountant.”
“Ah, okay. Wait a minute… a few years back, during that 4/17 remembrance service… the attempted assassination of the Pope…”
“Is that what they called it? Huh. Yeah, that was me. I didn’t attempt anything. I shot the guy standing next to His Holiness, just like I wanted to.”
“Holy shit…”
“That’s probably what the Pope said. Anyway, while I was in Rome, dealing with all that, my best friend was killed right in front of me.”
There’s a moment’s silence as the words hang in the air.
“Damn,” mutters Rayne. “I’m sorry, man. Was that Josh? The guy who ran GlobaTech for a while?”
I nod. “Yeah. I knew him most of my life. We were brothers, and I spent our last moment together covered in his blood. So, yeah, I don’t like Rome much.”
“Yeah. Understandable.” He taps my shoulder with the outside of his fist. A universal gesture of sympathy from a brother-in-arms. “Sorry.”
“Thanks.”
“Do you think that’s why Holt’s there? Some kind of weird-ass ironic revenge against you?”
I shake my head. “He didn’t know about my involvement until Ruby and I started poking around in Paris. If Rome’s his endgame, he will have been planning it for a while. That’s how people like him work. I just don’t understand why. There are no significant targets there. Right now, the biggest and most obvious thing to hit would be GlobaTech’s headquarters, and with that drone he’s got, he could do that from anywhere. So, why Rome?”
We fall silent again. I begin running everything through my head. I’ve beaten one Horizon before. I can do it again. I just need to work out what he has planned.
I don’t think it’s about money. He’ll have plenty of that, and if he was with The Order long enough to earn his Horizon title, he was with them long enough to buy into their sales pitch. It was never about money with them. It was about power.
So, Holt wants power. Or does he? Power over what? The only powerful nations left are all friends now. An assault on one would incur the wrath of the others. He doesn’t have enough drones to fight off the world. The only obvious target is GlobaTech, but he’s given no indication that they’re on his radar. So, what’s he playing at?
I rub my forehead with frustration. I’m too angry and have had too little sleep to figure this out, but I have to think of something, or Ruby and the team are as good as dead. Not to mention whoever Holt decides to hurt along the way.
I glance at Rayne beside me. He’s staring at the floor. His lips are moving slightly, like he’s talking to himself without volume. I can see his eyes moving back and forth.
I smile.
I can almost hear the cogs turning inside his head, racking his brain over the same problem I am.
He suddenly jerks in his seat and turns to me. “Wait a minute.”
“Talk to me, Adam. What have you got?”
“One sec.”
He uses his finger to point at the air next to his head, as if he’s typing on an invisible keyboard as he finishes his thought.
Then he claps his hands. “Okay. You taught us to think outside the box, right?”
“Yeah.”
“In fact, you taught us there is no box. That’s how the enemy works nowadays. They use psychology and influence to fight in ways that simply weren’t viable before 4/17.”
“Exactly.”
“So, Holt was in The Order. He was a big deal. One of these Horizon characters, yeah? He clearly survived and did well after you stopped them. Maybe he’s just pissed.”
“Go on…”
“Okay. What did The Order want?”
“Mostly, they wanted to shape the world to their own design. They wanted it to run the way they felt was best.”
“So, they wanted control… power?”
“Yeah.”
“Well, that didn’t work out all that well, did it? What if he’s pissed at the fact this new world we’re all coming to terms with is so different than what his old boss had planned, and he just wants to tear it down? Like the ex-girlfriend who broke up with you but still gets mad when you meet someone else.”
I can’t help but smile at the analogy.
“It’s a good theory,” I say. “In fact, I wouldn’t be surprised if you were dead-on. It makes a lot of sense. But it doesn’t explain why he’s in Rome.”
“Maybe it does. The Order used conflict to control things. They sent… people like you to take out certain targets. Nothing too big. Just a little kill here, a little kill there… gently nudging things in the direction they wanted. But in order for that tactic to work, there needed to be conflict. There needed to be something play on. Like, it only takes a spark to start a fire, but you need the kindling first.”
I nod along. I think I’m starting to see where he’s going with this.
“You think he’s going to use the drone to trigger a fresh conflict,” I say. “Which he can then manipulate to essentially kickstart the second coming of the world before 4/17.”
He nods. “Exactly. Hitting a big ol’ reset button.”
“And what’s the biggest catalyst for conflict in human history?”
“Religion. It’s one of the biggest things that’s brought people together over the last couple of years. And where’s the home of the most popular religious faith in the world?”
“Rome!”
“Exactly!” He holds up a hand, which I gladly high-five. “Holt’s going to use the drone to blow up the Vatican!”
That’s it. We figured it out. That has to be it! It’s the only thing that makes any sense.
We start laughing. I hate not knowing the game I’m playing. I imagine Rayne is the same. The relief in finally understanding what’s happening is overwhelming. It means we can start thinking about how to stop him. It means we can figure out a way to get our team back. It means we might stand a chance of winning. It means…
As we look at each other, our laughter dies down. Our smiles fade. Our eyes widen as reality sets in and the gravity of the situation hits home.
“Holy shit,” says Rayne somberly. “Holt’s going to blow up the Vatican.”
“Yeah…”
Rayne sighs. “Is he, though? You just said the guy who used to run The Order was a Vatican official. They were some ancient religious organi
zation. Would Holt destroy the one thing The Order served just to prove a point?”
I nod. “Absolutely. The thing was, The Order was full of shit. Yes, they were a religious cult originally. But that was a long time ago. When the Camerlengo found reference to them in the Vatican archives, he resurrected the name to serve his own purpose. The version of the Order I fought hadn’t been around for centuries. It had been around for six years. Sure, they played on the religious thing to motivate the people involved. Some of the higher-ups really bought into the idea of a greater purpose. But it was all bullshit. Nothing but an excuse to make people believe in what they were doing.”
“So, they were essentially brainwashing everyone involved?”
I shrug. “Pretty much. It didn’t work on me, and that’s where the problems began.”
“If that’s the case, then Holt targeting the Vatican makes even more sense. He’s not precious about it because The Order was never about a religious mission.”
“Exactly.”
“Goddamn. This is bad.”
I stare blankly ahead, gazing at the bare metal floor of the plane until my vision blurs.
Yes. This is really bad.
23:55 CEST
We touched down on the runway of a military base in Vincenza, a city in the northeast of Italy, about fifteen minutes ago. After a brief conversation with the pilot to thank him for the lift, we climbed into the waiting Range Rover and set off on the five-hour drive to Rome.
There’s no time to waste.
After getting over the initial shock of having figured out Holt’s plan, we came up with the beginnings of our own to stop him.
Rayne’s driving. I’m studying a folder full of intel that was waiting for us with the car, on top of two bags of weapons that took up the entire back seat. I had to smile when I saw them.
You can take Schultz out of GlobaTech…
“Where does it say Falikov’s chopper landed?” asks Rayne.
“At an industrial complex just off the A12,” I say, still buried in the file. “Just north of LDV airport on the outskirts of the city.”
He expertly weaves through some freeway traffic at high speed. “You think Holt’s holding the guys there?”
I look up at the sudden swaying of the vehicle and stare at the road. “Get us there in one piece, will you? And yes, I think that’s where Holt and his drone is, and I think he has the team with him.”
“I dunno,” Rayne says, absently shaking his head. “Having a drone that close to public airspace is risky. That thing might be undetectable via radar but not line of sight. The people in the control tower at the airport will see it out their window.”
I nod. “You’re not wrong, but I honestly don’t think Holt’s concerned about being caught. He probably believes he can’t be caught. Not after taking us out so effectively. Scary thing is, he might be right.”
I begin sifting through the printouts of satellite images taken of the area over the last twenty-four hours. They show the helicopter arriving. They show people emptying out of it and moving inside. Looking at the timestamps, about a half-hour later, a smaller group reappears and gets into a vehicle. I search the printouts for the ones that track the vehicle after it leaves…
Got them.
I follow its journey until it finally stops at an address in the city. It looks like a bunch of storage units. The vehicle is parked at the rear. It doesn’t appear to have moved since. The most recent photo was taken an hour ago. Schultz must have arranged for someone to gather the intel on-site for when we landed.
I tap the image of the building. “Falikov and a group of Tristar mercs left Holt’s base and traveled here. That’s where we start. We find out everything we can from them, then we take them out.”
Rayne nods, remaining focused on the road ahead. “Then we go for Holt?”
“Goddamn right, we do.”
I put the papers back in the file and toss it on the back seat. There’s nothing more to be said. We’re both fried. We’re both running on pure adrenaline. We both know what needs to be done.
I stare out the window and watch as the lights of the city stream past us.
I’m coming for you, Ruby. Just hang tight.
I’m coming.
25
April 28, 2020 – 05:21 CEST
What I wouldn’t do for some coffee right now.
It was a long drive from Vincenza. I took over the driving halfway to give Rayne a break. He scanned the intel Schultz had arranged for us while I had the wheel. We discussed our theory about what Holt’s planning. We dissected it over and again, questioning everything. We kept arriving at the same conclusion.
Holt has to be planning to use the drone to attack the Vatican.
When we made peace with that, we turned our attention to the more immediate task at hand.
We’re sitting in the Range Rover now, parked in a wide alley between two buildings, cloaked in what remains of the shadows of night. In front of us, a road expands across. It’s more like an alleyway. It links together two main strips of road running parallel to one another at each end. Vehicles are parked along it, leaving little space for another vehicle to travel down it.
Ahead of us is a row of three buildings. Even in the low light of dawn, I can see the sickly pastel colors used to paint the cracking plaster on the outside. They look like they have jaundice.
Of the three, the two on either side are both two stories tall. The one in the middle, covered in illegible graffiti, is just a single story. That’s the one we know Falikov and his merry band of Tristar assholes came to after leaving Holt’s base. Their vehicle is one of the ones lined up outside.
“How do you want to play this?” asks Rayne, nodding toward the building. “Do we wait for them to come out? Hit them before they can drive away?”
I shake my head. “No. We go in. Good chance they’re still sleeping, so we might get the drop on them.”
Rayne points to the metal shutter that’s fastened down over the single entry point. “What do we do about that? Gonna make a hell of a noise getting inside.”
“If we move quickly, it shouldn’t matter.” I look at the left side of the building, at the low gate linking it to the next building along. “You head around back and find a way up onto the roof. It’s flat, and there’s a skylight that should be big enough for you to drop through. On my signal, we go in together.”
“And your signal will be…”
I reach behind me, into one of the weapons bags, and take out the long breaching charge and detonator.
I smile at him. “Obvious.”
We gather what we need and climb out of the vehicle. I rest the breaching charge on the hood as I holster my twin Raptors behind me. I haven’t used this back holster in a long time. The weight of it presses against my lower back, causing a dull ache that never used to be a problem. But despite the discomfort, I can’t help feeling comforted by its presence. It’s even nostalgic, in a way.
Just like old times.
Unfortunately, I find myself in a situation that requires the old times, so the trip down memory lane is marred somewhat. But when the shit hits the fan, I instinctively revert back to what I know… to what’s safe, to get me through it. For me, it’s this.
I look over at Rayne and watch him load up spare magazines into his tactical harness. He adjusts the grip of the assault rifle he selected from the small armory we’ve been given.
“You ready?” I ask.
“Always,” he replies.
We both place comms units in our ears and test the connection.
I grab the charge. “Let’s go.”
We move quickly and quietly toward the building. Rayne scans a full three-sixty for signs of life. There aren’t any. Most of the surrounding buildings appear to be businesses—small offices or produce markets—so they’re all closed at this ungodly hour.
He heads around back as I rest against the wall beside the door. The shutter that’s covering it seems thin and rusted.
<
br /> I hear Rayne grunting with exertion over the comms.
“You good?” I whisper.
“Yeah, I… gah!” He sighs. “Yeah, I’m fine. I’m on the roof now and in position.”
“Okay. Give me a minute.”
I set to work with the charge. It’s what’s called a Breacher’s Boot. There are three clumps of C4 attached together by a cord. Each one is encased in thin plastic, with a strip of double-sided adhesive on one side. I peel away the covering strip and gently attach each one to the shutter in a straight line, running top to bottom, ensuring the cord is taut between each one to maximum coverage. I then take out the primers—three thin, metal rods with wiring attached that are inserted into the C4. The wiring is then tied together and clipped to the detonator. When I press the button, an electrical charge will travel along the wire and down into each rod. They’ll conduct the electricity and send a shockwave into the plastic explosive, triggering the detonation.
Then… no more door.
I finish configuring it all and walk a few paces away, toward the side gate, putting a good ten to fifteen feet between me and the door. The wire trails along the ground. I flip the cover up on the detonator with my thumb, revealing the button.
“I’m ready,” I say.
“Likewise,” replies Rayne.
“On three.”
“Count it.”
I pause. “Three.”
I press the button, triggering the detonation. The noise of the blast is instantly deafening but fades after just a few seconds. The explosion is contained by the design of the charge, resulting in little outward damage. The tearing and warping of the metal shutter continues to ring out as it’s blown inward, removing the door behind it from its hinges in the process.
I hear the faint sound of glass breaking from above as Rayne drops down. I quickly draw one of my Raptors and move inside, waving my arm through the cloud of dust billowing out through the doorway.
The building is a simple, large box—probably one open space, retrospectively segmented with drywall. There are no doors, just spaces leading into the small rooms.
The smoke begins to clear, revealing more of the interior to me as I quickly navigate the makeshift hallways. Rotting floorboards creak beneath my weight. I tread carefully, gun aimed and ready. I sweep through the first two rooms I come across. Both are empty. Patches of wallpaper, faded with time, hang off the walls. A single lightbulb hangs from the ceiling, swaying back and forth in the aftermath of the blast, causing the shadows to dance around me.
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