Traitor Games

by Sidney Bristol

How far were they from the house? Fifty yards, maybe?

  She’d seen the lawn. It was the size of a football field.

  Voices drifted through the mist. Lillian hunched her shoulders and pressed herself against Noah’s back. She held her breath for fear it would disturb the fog.

  What would happen if they were discovered?

  The secrecy made sense. After the Paris attack and the prime suspect being made out to be Mitch, they couldn’t lead the biggest names in intelligence straight to one of the most wanted people on the planet.

  The voices drifted away again.

  Noah squeezed her hand twice.

  He leaned forward, still holding tight to her hand, and bolted. Lillian had no option but to jog after him or fall on her face. The chilly morning air burned her lungs as she pushed herself to keep up with his burst of speed.

  “Up and over,” Noah whispered.

  “What?” He’d never mentioned climbing to her.

  Noah let go of her hand and in what looked like a single bound vaulted over a tall wooden gate. Lillian groaned inwardly and put her foot on the lowest slat.

  “What was that?” a man who wasn’t Noah said somewhere to her right.

  A cold sweat broke out along her spine. She hauled herself up while Noah ducked out of sight. She swung her leg over the top of the gate.

  A flashlight reflected off the mist, creating a halo of light.

  Fuck. She stared down at Noah with his arms up. Like he was going to catch her.

  What choice did she have?

  Lillian shoved off the gate and plummeted to the ground. Her feet hit first, then she went to her knees. Noah grabbed her and dragged her sideways, almost into the hedges lining the dividing point between the two properties. He stood face to face with her, his finger across his lips, gaze locked on a point over her shoulder.

  Footsteps rustled the grass just on the other side of the tall bushes.

  “Did someone come this way, mate?” a man asked.

  “Not that I saw…”

  “Then whose footsteps are those?”

  “Probably one of those snobbish bastards out for a snog.”

  “Still, better radio this in.”

  Lillian looked down.

  Sure enough, all the moisture on the grass left a plain as day trail where they’d gone.

  “Yeah, this is Team Three over on the west perimeter. We have a pair of tracks leading to the neighbor’s house.” The radio beeped.

  A voice answered through the radio. “Copy that Team Three. Stay clear of that area. Authorized exit.”

  Was that Jeff?

  Lillian stared up at Noah who shook his head.

  “Understood,” the disembodied voice on the other side of the bushes answered.

  Authorized exit?

  The two guards moved off, their voices fading into the morning fog.

  “Come on.”

  “What just happened?”

  Noah didn’t reply. He just gripped her hand and led her through more pastures until they reached a much smaller house than the mansion. They tucked themselves behind a low tree with branches spread wide, right up against the house.

  “We have maybe fifteen minutes.” Noah glanced back over his shoulder, as if he could see through the branches.

  “Did you tell someone we were leaving?”

  “No. One problem at a time, okay?”

  He pulled out a tablet from inside his coat and tapped the screen a few times. In moments a little jiggling telephone appeared. It flickered, and the image of two people filled the screen. Lillian had only ever met Irene the once. She’d never so much as spoken to Mitch.

  “It’s good to see you guys,” Irene said.

  “The same.” Noah nodded. “We don’t have time for a chat. What do you have for us?”

  “Sent over a file just a few minutes ago.” Irene leaned forward. “We did some digging into the entourages. It’s not much. I wish it was more.”

  “It’s more than we had,” Lillian said.

  “Lillian? What can you tell us about the behavior of the group sessions?” Mitch asked.

  “They were tense. Jan was antagonistic. Even the director wasn’t entirely on board with us. I can’t decide if it’s because he’s hearing these things for the first time or if he’s trying to be objective and impartial.” Lillian was going to need something strong to drink after today’s sessions.

  “I’m worried. We anticipated this summit going much smoother. We should consider the possibility that SICA has an inside man somewhere working against us, or someone there.” Irene’s face creased, as though those words hurt her to say.

  “Yeah, I was wondering the same thing,” Noah said.

  “Really?” Lillian frowned at him.

  He gripped her knee and whispered, “You didn’t need that weight on you.”

  “Listen.” Irene pulled their camera toward her. “If today doesn’t go well, I want you to consider pulling out of there. We can’t risk Lillian.”

  “Agreed,” Noah said.

  Irene and Mitch shared a look. “I don’t like hearing that Jan isn’t supporting us.”

  “We’ll handle it.” Lillian didn’t know how, but between her brains and Noah’s skill, they had to be able to do something. “How are you two doing?”

  “You mean after yesterday?” Mitch blew out a breath and scratched his chin. The beard made him look like a completely different person. “It helps that they’re circulating a picture that’s over a year old, but…”

  “We’ll be taking another trip today and then relocating,” Irene said.

  “Be careful,” Lillian said.

  “We will be—”

  A boom shook the windows over their head. Lillian ducked and peered back toward the mansion. The sky was a touch lighter, which made it easier to see the plume of smoke rising from the top of the hedges.

  “What was that?” Mitch leaned toward the camera.

  “Noah, get Lillian out of there.” Irene’s voice rang with the fear building up inside of Lillian.

  “Come on.” Noah snatched her hand and bolted, dragging her with him.

  “What was that?” Lillian gaped over her shoulder as thick black smoke took to the sky.

  A sound she vaguely recalled pelted through the morning calm.

  Bullets. Those pinging, blast sounds—someone was shooting.

  A scream tore through the morning, chilling Lillian’s blood.

  “Lily, come on.” Noah pulled her from under the tree limbs.

  Once more, Lillian was running away from death and destruction.

  They circled the still sleepy home to the gravel driveway in front. A red four-door car that looked like a box on wheels sat there. Noah jammed a key in the car door and opened it.

  “You have their keys?” Lillian gaped at him.

  “Seemed prudent at the time. Get in!”

  She circled the small compact car that had seen better days and got in the passenger side.

  “If that’s SICA—and do we think it’s anyone else?—they will be on us in minutes,” Noah said. He reversed out of the drive slowly.

  “Go,” Lillian snapped.

  “No. We can’t rush away like we’re the ones they’re looking for. Okay? You don’t run from predators, even human ones, if you can help it. It draws their attention.”

  She twisted to stare out through the back.

  The entrance to the mansion property was another fifty or sixty yards away. Two big black vehicles blocked the entrance.

  Noah pointed the car away, toward the city center and drove.

  Lillian watched the two vehicles until they were out of sight.

  SICA. They’d followed them from the airport here, and for what? To kill people who wanted to make the world a better place?

  She sat in the seat, stunned, cold, unsure what the hell was going on. “They killed everyone, didn’t they?”

  “That detonated at seven fifteen. Everyone would have been in the dining room for fi
rst dibs on breakfast.” Noah met her gaze, face grim. “That’s what I’d do. Maximum impact.”

  “Oh, God.” She slid down in her seat, cradling her face.

  She’d had these grand ideas of helping to save people, doing the right thing, being a patriot, and the only thing that had happened so far was that the people who helped them got killed.

  They drove until the sun was slanting through the windows, nearly blinding her. Noah whipped the car into a crowded lot and squeezed them into a distant parking spot way in the back.

  Lillian remained sitting where she was. If she got out, would she be signing someone else’s death warrant? Would SICA bomb the whole town just to get at her? What did she really know?

  The passenger door opened and Noah knelt at her side.

  “I know a lot just happened, but you can’t fall apart on me now. You’re strong. You’re a survivor. We have to get on this train and get into the city. We can lose them there. Let’s go.” Noah grasped her hand and held on tight.

  If she stayed where she was, SICA would win. More people would die doing good.

  If she stayed where she was, anyone around her was a risk until she was dead. And then SICA would continue to kill.

  If people were going to die, there should at least be someone willing to put it all on the line to stop the bad guys.

  That was what she’d signed up for, and she couldn’t stop now.

  …

  Hector strode through the blown-out side of the stately old mansion. Bits of broken bodies littered the floor, the walls, everywhere. They’d underestimated the number of people in attendance.

  “Sir?” One of the tactical team approached Hector. “The representatives have barricaded themselves into an inner room.”

  “How long until we pry their tin can open?” Hector figured they had minutes until the local police were on them.

  “Do you want them alive or—”

  “Dead. Take care of it. Now, anyone found the woman? Or the man?” Hector had priorities. This opportunity to hit the heads of several agencies at once was a gift tossed in their lap. This many deaths at an unofficial and unsanctioned meeting would cause an incredible amount of unrest across Europe and America.

  “Nothing yet. We checked her room, no one was there.”

  Hector nodded and dismissed the man.

  What were the chances that Noah had spirited Lillian away from them?

  With this gift it honestly didn’t matter anymore. They could use this opportunity to bury anything useful those rogue agents had in their pocket. The Paris job had sufficiently discredited anything Mitch might come forward with later, which left the others.

  Hector pulled out his phone.

  Across the house, another blast detonated, shaking dust and debris down on the damaged side of the building. Hector walked back the way he’d come.

  Lillian and the others were still a problem to be addressed.

  Now, where would Noah go from here?

  …

  Saturday. Lambeth, London, United Kingdom.

  Noah hooked his arm under Lillian’s and hoisted her up with him. The tube began to slow and signs for the Elephant & Castle stop whizzed by.

  “This is us,” he said.

  The rush hour press of bodies was one of the worst Noah had ever experienced. It did make getting lost in the crowd easier. For now.

  “Stay with me.” Noah wove his way to the doors as the recorded voice announced, “Mind the gap.”

  Lillian clutched his hand so tight the knuckle he’d broken last year ached. She had to be exhausted, but she had yet to complain.

  They merged onto an escalator headed to the ground level, hugging the right side. He gazed down at her, but only got to see the brim of her slouchy hat. They’d paused a number of times to change out an article of clothing, add some, whatever it took to make them look like they weren’t themselves.

  “I can’t tell the stations apart anymore.” Lillian peered behind them then up at Noah.

  “This is our last, hopefully.” He needed to get them off the street. Lillian had to rest and they couldn’t risk flying by the seat of their pants anymore. A plan was a must.

  Once again, they were a dozen steps behind SICA and had barely escaped with their lives. As far as Noah could tell, they might be the only ones who had.

  They reached the street level, scanned their passes, and exited the tube station out onto London Road. Noah moved with traffic, headed south, searching for anything slightly familiar.

  It’d been ages since he’d worked in London. The last undercover job he’d done there was spying on a group of white supremacists as part of a joint operation to outlaw the organization. It had also made him a bit of a specialist when it came to these groups. He knew how to blend in, speak their language even if it disgusted him. The gig had gone well and led to the op he’d been working in the States. Most of the members were in jail. But there were still a few fringe guys who haunted the same places. It wasn’t ideal to go to these guys for help, but he was scraping the bottom of the bucket.

  Lillian trudged with him across the street going with the flow of people. “How far are we walking this time?”

  “Just a little ways, I swear.”

  “I’m pretty sure you’ve said that a couple times today. My feet disagree with your assessment of a little ways.” The corners of her mouth quirked up. It was brief, but he’d caught it.

  She could crack a joke. That was good.

  He searched the crowd over his shoulder for anyone taking too much interest in them. They’d spent most of the day hopping on and off the tube, buses, and taking short cab rides. He’d almost burned through the cash on him, which wasn’t good.

  They’d lost everything.

  Their passports.

  Their equipment.

  Their money.

  The binder.

  At least the last one was taken care of. He’d seen the case Lillian was talking about and he wasn’t sure it could be cracked. Besides, most of the information was done in a shorthand code not even he could read.

  The phones and tablet had been dumped shortly after leaving the mansion, which meant they’d escaped with their lives, the clothes they were wearing, and the money in Noah’s pockets. That wasn’t a great way to start this off.

  “Where are we going?” Lillian asked.

  “About that…” Noah pulled her around a corner, winding through the streets instead of taking a straight course.

  “About what? Say something.”

  “I know a place, but it’s not somewhere I want to take you.”

  “What’s so bad about it?” Her lower lip pinched between her teeth.

  “I worked a CIA gig over here a couple years ago. There was this group that has now been outlawed, National Action? They’re a Neo-Nazi, far-right group. The job over here is what got me the gig I was working on in D.C.”

  “We’re going to go ask a bunch of racist skinheads for help?”

  “Yup. It’s as unexpected as I can think of, which means there’s a chance SICA won’t think of it either. It’s not ideal, I know.”

  “How about a hotel?”

  “They’ll want an ID.”

  “Shit.”

  “Look, it’ll just be for a night, if they’ll even put us up. Just…don’t talk a lot, okay? In fact, don’t say anything if you can help it.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “These guys, they have a way of talking. Just—let them talk. You’re going to want to react to what they say. I need you not to, understand?”

  “Like what?”

  “White jihad? White is right? You know, your standard stomach-churning propaganda talk.”

  “Wait—white jihad? That doesn’t make sense.”

  “Don’t think about it too hard. Eyes on the bigger picture.”

  Lillian nodded.

  “Good girl.” Noah reached over and squeezed her hand.

  They left the main streets and wound their
way onto the smaller lanes with houses squeezed up together. They did a few loops, changed directions and picked up some street food they could walk and eat before Noah was satisfied they’d not been followed. Only then did he guide Lillian down the tiny lane behind a few tenement houses to a dump of a place. The red bricks had seen better days. Only half the shutters remained. More than a few windows were covered over in cardboard from where they’d been broken.

  “You can’t be serious,” Lillian muttered.

  “Stay behind me. Don’t talk.” Noah let them in through the garden gate.

  An older gentleman he didn’t recognize sat on the back patio smoking a cigarette. There was no swastika on his shoulder or physical sign of his allegiance, but Noah knew his type on spot.

  “What do you want?” The man’s words ran together, one on top of the other.

  “Evening.” Noah lifted his hand. “Looking for a friend. Is Jimmy around?”

  “No.” The man’s gaze narrowed. He spat on the ground.

  “Is he coming back, or…?”

  Noah knew Jimmy was in prison. It was Noah’s actions that had put the former hub coordinator in jail.

  “Nope,” the man said.

  “Oh.” Noah frowned, aware Lillian was watching him.

  This was the song and dance he’d expected. Following the operation he’d been part of and a series of undercover gigs that exposed National Action, the group had to be extremely careful.

  “Look, I stayed here a few years back. Jimmy was who I talked to then. I was hoping we might crash here tonight. Just one night.” Noah spread his hands.

  “I ain’t Jimmy.”

  “I can see that, but…” Noah glanced at Lillian again then took a step closer to the old guy until his knee touched the porch. The best thing to do was use the truth and bend it a little. Good thing they’d been watching the news as closely as they had. “Look, we got into some trouble back home and had to leave fast.”

  “What kind of trouble?”

  “There was this thing in Jacksonville a few days ago. I don’t know if they cover American news over here or not…” He was willing to bet the so-called news sites that catered to this crowd had picked up the news and ran with it. The key was in how Noah presented their involvement.

  The man’s brows rose a touch.

  “You were involved in that?” the man asked.