by Karl Weber
“What is this?” he asked. In less than a second, Anna brought the tip of her combat knife to Patterson’s chin, making him tense up.
“Last chance to cooperate. What you’re experiencing now is only a teaser for what’s to come if you don’t give us what we need,” Anna explained while her knife just barely made contact with Patterson’s skin.
“I wish I could,” Patterson reluctantly said.
“You will,” Jack countered. “The question is how much do you have to suffer until you reach that point.” He looked down at Anna, who relieved the pressure of the knife on Patterson’s chin.
She got down on one knee to open the metal case full of small tools, such as scalpels, pliers, and small metal picks/hooks. The basic toolbox for any good torturer.
She picked up one of the small scalpels and looked toward Patterson. “Must I continue?”
“I’m afraid you must.”
For the next half hour, the only noise that could be heard were Patterson’s screams in agony. After slowly digging deeper and deeper into Patterson’s skin, and triggering his nerves to the point that he felt like he was on fire, Patterson couldn’t accept the pain any longer.
“Enough.” Patterson muttered. He looked down and saw the atrocity that had been done to his left arm. The blood itself made him want to vomit.
“The bank?” Jack pressed.
“It holds everything. All the secrets me and my peers have collected throughout the decades is held there. All the politicians we have blackmail on, and their dirty little secrets are there. Details about backdoor deals made with financial backers and supporters like me and my company are there. All held inside the bank’s maximum-security vault. Only a select few, not including me, have access to it.”
“And anyone else with the skills to break in,” Anna chipped in.
“Not possible. The vault was designed with people like you in mind. The inside of the vault isn’t called no man’s land without reason.”
“We’ll keep that in mind,” Jack said.
Anna sighed before standing up. “Let’s go. I’m getting tired of this guy. He’s served his purpose to us.”
“Agreed.” Jack looked toward Anna. “I can if you want me to?”
“Go ahead.”
“Go ahead with what?” Patterson asked, looking confused.
“This,” Jack said right before he pulled out a suppressed pistol he had on his belt and shot Patterson between his temples. The body went limp in the chair. Anna watched the entire execution play out with an expressionless face.
Jack holstered the weapon and grabbed Anna’s shoulder as they headed for the room exit. “Let’s get out of here,” Anna said. The couple stepped out of the bright interrogation room into the dark observation room.
Anna sighed after entering the dark room.
Jack took notice. “Are you okay?” The couple stood in place.
After a couple of seconds, Anna just shook her head. “It’s nothing, it’s just …” She lost what she wanted to say.
“Feels like we’ve passed some type of threshold we’re not sure we wanted to cross.”
“Yeah, exactly. But did we have a choice?”
“We can only do what we can for the greater good.” Jack sighed. “Even if it destroys who we are.”
“Your probably right.” Jack sensed Anna’s discomfort as the feeling was mutual. The couple then came together and embraced.
Chapter 17
The Dixon Edwards bank was considered by experts to be one of the biggest banks on the North American continent, with the headquarters located in the financial district of Chicago, Illinois.
Having been founded in 1914, the bank had been responsible for financing startups that later grew into some of the largest and most influential corporations to date. It had served as the root for entities that became backbones to the international economy. It could be assumed that a place so influential was sure to have top-of-the-line security that would rival government facilities. But not even Price, who had seen the worst of the worst when it came to security, couldn’t believe what he was seeing.
“We can’t do this,” Price said with a combination of fear and certainty lingering in his voice.
“I have heard that before,” Jack replied.
“You don’t understand. This vault is more secure than any corporate or government facility I’ve ever seen. Breaking into the Pentagon wouldn’t be much harder,” Price explained.
“That bad?”
“Let me show you.” Price got out of his seat and walked over to the hologram projector in the middle of the command center. He tapped away on the control module and a large 3D hologram of a vault appeared. It was shaped like a large dome with a wide tunnel leading into it. The whole structure was made of one type of metal.
Price clarified, “This thing is a monster. Completely made of titanium, it would take the best of drills hours just to make a dent into it. Not even a fly could make it into this thing unnoticed. The entry tunnel is the only way inside. It’s equipped with the same floor of lava Anna had to deal with at the server facility. But that’s the least of our issues. The tunnel is equipped with both traditional and thermal cameras, so scaling the ceiling is no option. The end of the tunnel, however, is where it’s game over.”
“Don’t be dramatic, Price, maneuvering around obstacles is just part of our job. What is at the end of the tunnel that is so bad?” Jack asked, slightly annoyed at Price’s pessimism.
Price gulped. “Biometric and retinal scans are required from the bank’s three directors, at the same time. The Spectral Command Unit’s hacking module isn’t going to cut it here. And even if we had all of what I mentioned, the scanners are far enough part that one person alone can’t open it.”
“Like the two keys needed to launch nuclear missiles on a submarine,” Jack stated.
“Pretty much.”
“Shit.”
“How’s Anna anyhow?” Price asked, wanting to change the subject.
“Still mad at herself that we couldn’t save Huckleberry. I told her to head up stairs for the day. Figured it might help clear her head.”
“Oh, yeah. I forgot the election’s today.”
Jack sighed. “Yeah, and with Coleman running without his main competition, I doubt it’ll take long for the polls to call the winner.”
“Yeah, sorry I brought it up.”
“Don’t be. The situation we’re in sucks, but whether or not we move on will define who we are. We push on and don’t look back.” Jack moaned. “That’s all we can do.”
Several hours later Jack headed home. It was late in the evening. Luckily for both Anna and him, they both had apartments on the eighth floor, making their commute to and from work a short one.
Jack protested the idea of living at Vigilance HQ when it was originally offered. But later gave in and decided it was the best thing, both for convenience and, more importantly, safety. Anna and he had already made enough enemies to the point where his suburban home in Arlington was no longer safe. Figured staying in a ten-story office building built like a fortress that used to be a CIA outpost would be better for his health.
At least he was able to renovate his apartment to make it feel as close to his old home as possible. He stood over his kitchen countertop, ready to pour a glass of bourbon from his native state of Kentucky, needing to clear his head. After he dropped the ice cubes in the glass, Jack tipped the neck of the glass down, and the brown liquid poured onto the ice cubes, just like the water onto Patterson’s face.
“Fuck,” Jack shouted as he slammed the bottle back onto the counter. He raised the glass, bent it back, and swallowed its contents as if it were a shot. He slammed the glass back down, making a loud bang. It was so recent, but the memory of Patterson’s torture shook Jack like a lightning bolt. It made him feel uneasy in his own skin.
Jack quickly poured himself another glass and decided to head into the living room to try and escape his thoughts. He collapsed on his b
ig, dark-leather couch.
“TV on,” Jack said. The projection screen instantly turned on. The channel displayed was showing the news. On the bottom of the screen, it showed Roger Coleman as the winner of the presidency in a landslide victory. Surprise, Surprise, Jack thought as he took a sip of his drink to vent his frustration. He was about to change the channel when he heard his doorbell ring. He set his glass down on the coffee table in front of him and got up to head to his front door.
When he got there, he tapped on the small display beside the door that showed a camera feed of what was on the other side of the door. It was Todd Hellmuth, the chief of staff at Homeland Security and a member of the Deep State. A conspirator in the death of President Huckleberry, Jack reminded himself. Before opening the door, Jack sprinted back to his kitchen.
He opened a utensil drawer and reached inside to collect the little 9mm handgun loaded with hollow points he kept in a hidden holster mounted on the roof of the drawer. It was a weapon Jack had put there if he needed it in a pinch, like for a home break-in. Although this might’ve been much worse of a situation than a break-in.
Hellmuth helped assassinate the POTUS, and Jack knew he was on Hellmuth and the Deep State’s radar. He couldn’t be too careful.
Jack approached the door again while holding the weapon behind his back before opening it.
Hellmuth stood in place and was first to speak. “Shepard, how’ve you been?”
“I’ve been better, sir.” Jack hated having to address Hellmuth as his superior, but he had no choice. On paper Vigilance was part of Homeland Security, making Hellmuth technically his boss, and the reason he had access to the building.
“Yes, it is quite a tragedy what happened to our late president, isn’t it?” Hellmuth pretended to be in mourning. Jack, of course, knew it was all acting.
“It really is. Huckleberry was a good man.”
“Indeed. Now listen, as I’m sure you’re aware, Gregory Donavan, the Speaker of the House, is now the sitting president. He’ll finish off the term with Roger Coleman set to be our next president.”
“It appears so.”
“Apparently, the two have been talking closely, and I’m really sorry to give you this news, seeing as your agency was just barely off the ground.” Hellmuth took a breath that only added emphasis on his next sentence. “I was just informed by Coleman’s staff that he’ll be wanting Vigilance disbanded.”
Jack said nothing and didn’t even react with a facial expression, keeping his emotions in check, barely. This shouldn’t have come as a surprise to him. He knew that Hellmuth and his associates were going after him and Anna. He had heard them say it out loud.
“Are you okay?” Hellmuth asked nervously, since Jack did not respond.
Jack thought carefully before saying, “I understand, sir. I’m a soldier who follows my chief’s orders, and if he says my place isn’t in intelligence then I trust his judgment.”
Hellmuth looked at Jack, slightly astonished at his answer. “Okay, well, I’m glad to hear you’re alright with Coleman’s changes. I hope your associate, Ms. Perkins, thinks the same way you do.”
Jack raised his hand. “You don’t have to inform her, sir. I’ll do that myself. There’ll be less pushback if I’m the one to break the news to her.”
Hellmuth shrugged. “Very well then. I guess I won’t pester you any longer. I’ll contact you when I get more details.”
“Thank you, sir,” Jack said as Hellmuth turned away to leave. Jack watched Hellmuth head down the hall while thinking, Only problem is I don’t give up so easily.
Chapter 18
"So, what you’re telling me is we’re fucked,” Anna said in response to Jack’s bad news.
“Don’t say that,” Jack responded.
It was the next morning. They were alone in the armory.
“Well, then what should I say? They’re going to tear us down while they rule the country through the corrupt son of a bitch that just won by default.”
“Not unless we do something about it.”
“What can we do?”
“Grab them by the balls,” Jack avowed.
Anna raised an eyebrow. “The bank? I thought Price went on and on about how it’s an impossible job.”
“Forget what Price said. You’re the best spy at this country’s disposal. I know it because I’ve seen it and heard you brag about it enough times.”
Anna blushed ever so slightly. She snapped herself back to her normal train of thought. “You’re right. When someone says impossible, what I hear is, hasn’t been accomplished yet.”
“There’s the Annabelle I know.”
“Let’s see if Price has been able to dig up anything else that could be useful.”
Anna turned toward the door to leave the room but halted when Jack spoke up. “Wait.”
Anna turned back around. “What’s wrong?”
Jack approached her and placed his hands on her shoulders. He locked eyes with her, which wasn’t hard with him only a couple of inches taller than her. “I feel as if we might’ve taken things too far yesterday. That we might’ve lost sight of who we are.”
Anna sighed. “Maybe, but it had to be done. A dark cloud looms over this country, and we might be the only ones fighting against it.”
“I know, I know. I care about the well-being of this country, but I care just as much about you.”
Anna’s eyes dilated. “Jack, I don’t know what to say.”
Jack smiled. “I’ll make it easy for you.” He tilted his head and gave Anna a short but sweet kiss. Immediately after their lips separated, Anna reinitiated the kiss but with much greater passion. Jack lowered his hands from her shoulders to her hips. Anna did the same thing and wrapped her arms around him. He got a squeal out of her when lifted her up and pressed her back against one of the armory lockers. She wrapped her legs around his waist. They stared each other down with fierce looks in their eyes before closing them to engage in another round of furious kissing.
After losing themselves for a good moment, they separated. Jack smiled before stating, “We better get out of here before Waldo walks in on us.”
“Too late.” Anna and Jack looked toward the door to see Waldo standing at the doorway, wearing both his lab coat and a grin of amusement on his face.
Back in the command center, Jack was first to speak up. “Price, I hope you found out more on the bank job. Because we’re doing this thing one way or the other.”
Price spun around in his chair with a look of disbelief on his face. “You’re kidding, right? This is a suicide mission.”
“Only if we fail. Now do your job and just give us the details,” Jack ordered.
Price exhaled noisily before spinning himself back around to face his computer. He tapped away until a diagram appeared on the screen in front of him. “I’ve already told you about the entry tunnel of instant failure. The problem is I still haven’t found a work around for that or to the biometric and retinal scanners at the end of the tunnel. The only thing I found that I could even do anything with is the building’s backup generator. Of course, to do that I would need a hard connection.”
Anna spoke up, “What usefulness could we possibly get out of gaining control of the backup generator? For it to be even relevant, the building would have to lose complete power.”
“I know. I only brought it up because it was the only thing that I could find in my research online that might have a vulnerability.”
Anna continued, “Where in the bank headquarters is the vault even located?”
“The floor beneath the main lobby. There are not only standing guards, but also a whole sector of office spaces with employees running back and forth.”
“Okay, let’s say we can find a way past all of this and actually make it to the end of the tunnel. How do we open the final door?”
Price shook his head, indicating, I have no idea.
“Who actually are the directors that hold the keys to the door?” Jack asked.
>
Price tapped away on his keyboard and pulled up file after file along with the headshots of three different men. He zoomed in on a specific file. The profile image showed a Caucasian male with brown hair and a wide, round chin.
“The CEO is a career banker by the name Graham Schulz. Sixty-two. Became CEO about seven years ago. Was born and raised in Chicago. Has publicly stated he is a globalist and has financially supported politicians of similar beliefs for over the last decade,” Price explained.
He zoomed in on another headshot of an Asian male with a very wrinkled face. Price continued, “Chao Lee. Sixty-eight. Born in Toronto, Canada. Currently serves as the bank’s chief information officer. Was one of the founders of Transparence Software. When Dixon Edwards bought Lee’s controlling shares about five years ago, Lee was put in place as the company’s CIO to oversee everything between the two giants.”
“Hang on, you said Transparence Software?” Anna asked.
“The same company who owned the server facility you broke into to eavesdrop on the Deep State’s VR meeting. A coincidence, right?”
“Only problem is I don’t believe in coincidences. Who’s left?”
Price zoomed in on the last headshot, a picture of a black man with a clean shaved head. “Benjamin Cross. Fifty-seven. Like Schulz he’s also originally from Chicago. Apparently, Schulz and Cross are good friends. Intel suggests that Schulz was one of the big driving forces for Cross’s current position as CFO.”
“Basically we have three targets that need to cooperate with us in order to gain access to the vault containing the holy grail of dirty secrets,” Anna stated.
“Pretty much.”
“This whole thing is sounding like a bigger and bigger shit show. And we still don’t have a clue on where to start. The only thing we have to work with is what? A backup generator? What do we do with that?”
“I might have an idea, but you’re not going to like it,” Jack chimed in.