by Michael Todd
No, he would prefer it if he could tell people to keep working until the job was done without any questions asked regarding exactly what the hell he was doing in North Carolina.
“Step on it, Linus,” Carlson said, knocked back the remaining scotch in a single gulp, and refilled the glass without even thinking. He was a functioning alcoholic, at worst. Nothing he couldn’t handle.
“So, do you have any idea what they’re actually doing in there?” Savage asked and plucked his shirt irritably away from his chest. It was warm, although fall had already officially begun, and trees had started to change colors. Ads for Halloween mingled with Thanksgiving and even Christmas. But still, the weather remained unseasonably warm. Not unbearably so, but enough to be uncomfortable. He lay out in the middle of what looked like nowhere but was actually some seven hundred yards from a facility with fences, a significant number of armed guards, and considerable movement. No logos were displayed on the side of the windowless building.
“Well, the building is owned by Pegasus,” Anja said and actually sounded interested. “And a good chunk of money went into a lot of high-end security and transport. Carlson pinched pennies back in the central building by hiring second-rate companies to run security and IT, but he didn’t spare any kind of expense here. Yggdrasil SSY was appointed to provide the armored car services, and they brought in a hell of a lot of muscle. Obviously, someone wants to make sure that whatever they’re moving out of that place gets out without anyone trying to mess with it.”
“Yeah,” he agreed and squinted into his binoculars. “These guys are all armed to the teeth. There are some hints of power armor in the stuff they’re wearing. Nothing compared to what the military uses these days, but still similar.”
“Do you think you could take them out?” she asked.
“Take them out? What, like…kill them, take them out? I could if I had a team of fifteen men, equally armed to the teeth, and a couple of weeks to plan an operation. All of which we lack from what I’ve been able to see.”
“Yep.” She sounded almost disappointed. “Just you in there by your lonesome. I would have thought it was how people like you preferred to work. Lone-wolf types who only work alone and don’t take no partners.”
Savage couldn’t help but smirk. It was funny how she seemed to be able to drop her Russian accent to take on the stereotypical gruff loner voice. He still wasn’t sure where that particular stereotype had come from, but it really didn’t matter. So many people these days made assumptions about what kind of guy he was supposed to be, all without even bothering to ask what kind of guy he actually was.
People liked to throw the lone wolf idea around when it came to military men and somehow forgot that men and women in the service were all drilled and trained to work best when they were in a group. Military tactics were all about coordination and precision in groups, with each individual cog performing what they were brought in to do with the utmost professionalism. That was what made military operations a success. Lone wolf characters wouldn’t make it past boot camp, but there was no real need to clarify the situation for Anja.
What was interesting was how well-coordinated the men on the ground were. He knew that they couldn’t anticipate that anyone would come in to try to identify what they were moving, but they were all ready, anyway. Head comms would make it more difficult than the last time, as well as the fact that they always moved in groups of two, three, or more men to cover the perimeter. The precision and alertness as they watched the armored cars arrive and leave told Savage that security had truly been stepped up.
Anderson and Monroe would want to know this as well as where all the shit was being moved to, but at the moment, there wasn’t any point in trying to stop the process. There was only one road leading in and out of the facility as far as he could see. If anyone could actively trail them, it would be Anja. She had mentioned that she had access to a satellite, so maybe she could use it to track them?
He couldn’t actually recall when she’d dropped that nugget of useful information. It had been at some time over the past couple of days of watching and studying Carlson’s every movement while in Raleigh. He’d monitored the man through the various hotels he’d visited, Pegasus’ headquarters at the location, and a group of high-end restaurants.
They said that the age of actually physically following someone to keep track of their movements was at an end, which possibly explained why Jeremiah couldn’t identify a single time that he’d been made. The men who drove him around simply didn’t think to check to make sure that nobody was following them.
Obviously, he’d done his part to stay off the radar too. He’d parked the first rental in a shady corner of the motel parking lot and rented a second vehicle to use in his surveillance work. Not only that, he’d deliberately selected a car that was almost more invisible than a Taurus. The Prius was the kind of car that people seemed to actively ignore in these parts. From the number of them in the lot of the rental car agency, he had to assume that they were a popular choice around there. That boded well for him too.
He hadn’t had much training in actually following people in traffic, but the rule of thumb from a quick search on the web had told him that alternating your distance was more important than keeping it. People noticed patterns better than they noticed randomness, one site had noted.
It was fun, learning on the job like this. Of course, all that had been canceled when Anja noted a sudden change to Carlson’s calendar that indicated that he would pay the facility a visit in person. While they had kept tabs on what moved in and out before, the fact that the man himself would make a physical appearance at the location was important. If he planned to tie Monroe and Anderson to the place, it was the least that they could do to tie him to it as well—if only for the kind of leverage they would need.
Jeremiah blinked and realized that Anja had been talking the whole time that he’d been lost in thought. She seemed like the kind of woman who would be shy and not say much more than a couple of sentences if he met her in person. That notwithstanding, she made up for it by talking his solitary ear off since they weren’t actually standing face-to-face.
“Do you have an ETA on when Carlson will arrive here?” he asked when he sensed a lull in the barrage of words that she tossed his way. She might have even simply inhaled to keep going, but after his question, she paused to quickly check her computer.
“I have his limo service leaving the company building fifteen minutes ago,” she said after a quick pause. “The GPS indicates that they are heading your way. I guess we have to wait to see if it’s actually Carlson himself and not him throwing up more red herrings. And speaking of which, how come you didn’t pick up some of the binoculars in the shop that had a Bluetooth connection that would let me see what you’re looking at?”
He sighed. “Well, they didn’t have anything like that in the store,” he lied.
As it turned out, his prevarication was a futile gesture in the end. “I found the store’s online outlet. Everything’s online these days, Jer, and I found that they have one of those in the store, waiting for pickup.”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” he lied again and grinned as he peeked through the pair he had again.
“You didn’t want me to see what you’re looking at, right?” Anja accused. “You’re not ogling the asses of the lady guards in there, are you? Need I remind you that we’re on company time here?”
“Firstly, I’m not hourly, so that’s not how all this works,” he retorted. “Secondly, they didn’t have anything of the kind when I went in there. Besides, you were the one who told me to be frugal with the spending from this point forward.”
“Well, yes, but there are certain things you can splurge on, you know.”
Before she could say anything else, though, he cut in. “It looks like we have a convoy moving in.” He squinted for better focus. “Not armored cars. A couple of SUVs sandwiching a limo. I’d say that’s our boy.”
�
�Yep, the GPS tells me he should be in eyeshot,” she agreed. “Let’s hope that Carlson is in the car.”
Jeremiah nodded and abandoned the binoculars to use the sight of the rifle he’d bought from Max. The scope on it wasn’t as powerful as the binoculars, but it was a lot more target-focused. Unfortunately, the windows were tinted to an illegal degree, which made it difficult to actually see who was in the vehicles.
“There’s movement from the compound, though,” he said as he returned to his binoculars. “It looks like they’re expecting the convoy.”
“Did they radio ahead?” she asked.
“How should I know?”
“I wasn’t talking to you,” she hissed back.
“Were you talking to yourself? You do know that they say that talking to yourself is the first sign of early-onset dementia, right?”
“Come on, man,” Anja said softly. “It’s in my family. I don’t need to worry about that shit right now.”
“Oh, fuck, sorry. I didn’t know,” he said softly. He’d been told that he had a morbid sense of humor sometimes, and most of those times, he simply leaned into the skid, as the term went, and accepted it. But there was a time and a place for humor like that, and he’d misjudged the situation.
“Don’t worry about it.” She sounded apologetic herself. “How could you know?”
“Still, though, I shouldn’t have been that flippant about it…” His voice trailed off as the convoy entered the facility. The gate closed quickly behind them, and a group of guards exited the SUVs. The ten men wore uniforms that were painfully distinct from what the men already on site wore, which was interesting. An idea began to hatch in his mind, one that required Carlson to actually make an appearance.
The ten new arrivals did a quick security sweep that collided with the men and women of the original teams who were doing exactly the same thing. A quick argument ensued as two of what looked like the men in charge clashed over who would have jurisdiction over the site before they parted ways. Neither seemed to have had a clear victory.
At that moment, a man stepped out of the limo. He demanded attention with perfectly cut salt-and-pepper hair and an expensive suit. His demeanor was confident as he looked around before he retrieved a pair of sunglasses from his coat and put them on.
“Silver Fox alert,” Savage said with a small smile. “It looks like our target is in the area. Carlson is making a personal appearance here, folks!”
“Who are you talking to?” Anja asked.
“Well, I was imitating a sports broadcaster.”
“You seem like you have had a lot of practice,” she said playfully. “In front of the mirror?”
“Maybe,” he conceded. “But we have bigger issues to deal with. I think I need to get into the facility myself.”
“How is that supposed to happen?” she demanded. “We were able to get you in and out of the Pegasus building back in Philly due to the fact that your bosses have some pull in how those buildings are run. You have no such advantage here.”
“Have some faith, Anja.” His grin broadened as his plan settled in comfortably.
Chapter Fifteen
By the time the convoy that he’d put together converged on the facility, Carlson felt more than a little buzzed. The place had been one of Pegasus’ longest-running operations and had opened before he’d even assumed control of the company. It had made sense to move most of their goop testing there when it became clear that they would get the bulk of the government contracts for it. All things considered, this was the end of an era, in one way or another. Even when he retook the reins of the company, he doubted that he would be allowed to reopen the lab.
Then again, even if he could reopen it, the facility would probably not see the same kind of work that it had before. There was a lot of history embedded in the walls, and it was sad that things had come to an end like this.
He could feel the whiskey starting to affect him as they parked in front of the facility. It had, he admitted to himself, been a questionable choice on his part to put the partition up to keep the driver out of his decision to continue drinking. Three-quarters of the rich liquid was gone. He was no lightweight and had been known as something of a party boy, even after he’d married and taken control of a Fortune Five Hundred company, but these days, it was difficult to find drinking partners. Some of his old buddies were in rival companies and couldn’t be seen with him. Some were out of reach, living comfortable lives in countries that didn’t have extradition treaties. A couple were in jail. There were risks involved in the lives they lived.
Regrettably, he had begun to slide into that part of life when he lost more friends than he made. That was a fucking depressing thought—and one hell of a good reason to keep on drinking, as far as he was concerned. There was always a good reason if one simply looked for it.
He waited for the driver to come around to his door this time and allowed the man to pull it open. With extra care, he stepped out and thankfully didn’t have to lean on the side of the car as he pulled a pair of sunglasses out of his jacket pocket, flipped them open with one hand, and put them on smoothly. It was a practiced move that was meant to show that he wasn’t as drunk as people might think he was if they got in close enough to smell his breath or see his bloodshot eyes.
Speaking of, he would probably need to talk to someone about getting a breath mint. He would light up a breathalyzer test like a Christmas tree. While a mint wouldn’t help with that particular problem, it would certainly play better with the employees if they didn’t know that their boss’ boss three or four times removed got himself hammered while on the job.
These people didn’t know that they would all lose their employment with the company, and him showing up sloshed would only hint at bad things that would happen in the future. Even if the reason why he drank wasn’t necessarily a sad one. Not a particularly happy one either, but hey, who was counting?
“Sir, are you ready for the site inspection?” one of the men asked him. They all looked like they were dressed for combat. Carlson could appreciate that, considering the new elements that had been introduced. What was the term? The fly in the ointment. The wrench in the works.
“Mr. Carlson will be ready to inspect the facility when he says so, and not before,” his head of security Mr. Stevens remarked. The executive narrowed his eyes and stared at the two men who seemed to be locked in a silent yet very real battle of wills. He mused that if both these men were as drunk as he was, they would be throwing punches.
It really was comforting that not everyone was as unprofessional as he was.
“I think I’d like to have a quick view of the facility, first, to make sure that everything’s up to code,” Carlson said and drew in a deep breath. If anyone would notice his condition, it would be scientists, so he might as well start with them and get it over with. Besides, he was interested only in what they attempted to accomplish. Nothing mattered except meeting the deadline.
He took a moment to gather his balance before he moved around the car. While he wasn’t sure what he would do to cover for himself during his inspection, he would think of something. Maybe those pills the doctor had given him. He still had those, right?
The driver saw him check his pockets and moved quickly back into the limo. Carlson watched as the two men in charge of the security on location argued once again over how the viewing would proceed.
Well, maybe they weren’t as professional as he would have liked.
The driver stepped out of the car. He held a small white pill in one hand and a glass of water in the other and handed both to Carlson. Without comment, he stood between his boss and the two arguing security men as the executive popped the pill down the hatch and chased it with some water. It would be a little while before it kicked in, but it would have to do.
“A mint, sir?” the man asked and handed him a small container.
“Thank you, Linus.” The driver tapped a couple of the little white tablets out. Linus was the one who had been
with him the longest. The exact nature of his training had never been explained, but he had seen the man handle some tough situations with ease and precision. That fact alone told Carlson that whatever training it had been, it was not something to scoff at.
And the man had something that was even more valuable than the ability to break people in two, drive like someone who had just robbed a bank, and to always have something up his sleeve that would help with whatever maladies Carlson experienced. That was loyalty. The man had been with him for the better part of a decade and a half and had never faltered in his duty. He was being well-paid for it, of course, but so were the people who had failed him in the past.
The executive could feel the pill already starting to take effect. The buzz in his brain slowly faded. He knew that he had a killer headache coming on, but that was par for the course. Linus would have something for that, too, when they began the return trip to the hotel.
Hopefully, he could put all this bullshit behind him and turn his attention once more to reclaiming his company from those assholes.
“If the two of you are done arguing,” he said, and straightened his suit. “I think we have a facility to inspect, don’t you, Mr. Stevens?”
“Oh,” Stevens grunted and turned away from his argument with the man in combat armor. He cleared his throat. “Of course, sir. If you would just—”
“Follow me, right this way, sir,” his opponent cut in.
These two men needed to get a hotel room and work all this angst out, Carlson mused and shook his head. Seriously.