by Dwayne Gill
“I can’t wait to get back,” said Daniel. “They need us there.”
“You have me now, my friend,” said William. “We’re all in this together.”
*
October 2, 2028
12:30 p.m. EST
Fort Bragg, North Carolina
Colonel Mathis was stewing in his office, trying to wrap his head around the day’s events. He’d verified Bowman’s disappearance, and although he never doubted Cane was telling the truth, hearing it officially had been even more sobering. Mathis should have known something was amiss when he didn’t hear from Bowman, which would’ve raised concern about the integrity of the mission. Now Mathis had a chaotic situation in Baku to deal with and some very serious legalities to consider.
The good news was that William was safe now, though it took Mathis getting involved much deeper than he’d intended. Mathis had no other choice; Graves would have detained William indefinitely had he not called.
It was only a matter of time before Mathis’s superiors learned about the extraction and asked some tough questions. William’s rescue could cost him his rank and much worse, especially considering the Russian element involved.
While all these thoughts contributed to his foul mood, Mathis felt he had bigger concerns at the moment. Not only was his old friend missing, but the Russians had also somehow been alerted to William’s escape. Mathis had considered Bowman as the informant, under duress, but he doubted it. It was Bowman’s idea to save William, so there was no way he’d give up the mission, even under extreme torture. Bowman was well known for being a hardened, tough soldier that wouldn’t break easily, especially not that fast.
Eliminating that possibility left Mathis with a disturbing alternative theory, one that Cane implied and Bowman himself subscribed to. What if there was more to this terrorist plot that Bowman warned of? Mathis knew Bowman wasn’t a liar, and he didn’t think his old friend was crazy, so why did he have trouble believing him? Bowman had raved for years about the marked men plotting an apocalyptic terrorist act, but there had been no real evidence suggesting such a thing. However, someone had wanted Bowman out of the picture, and their timing was more than curious. It so happened that his friend went missing right after their meeting, but not before Bowman had the chance to relay the mission specs to the others. The only other person who knew about their meeting, specifically, was Mathis’s sergeant who had escorted Bowman to his office. Could he have overheard their conversation? Not likely, unless he possessed sensitive, high-tech equipment.
Mathis felt like he’d drawn a line in the sand now that he’d taken part in William’s rescue, and there was no turning back. It was personal now that someone had taken Bowman. He’d trusted his old buddy years ago when he vouched for William, the super-recruit, and he’d been right about him. Bowman always said the soldier had a bigger destiny than Mathis was aware of, but he’d just dismissed it as hyperbole. If Bowman was right about William, could he be correct about the marked men too?
There was a way to find out. Mathis called Sergeant Wright, who was sitting at a desk in the front lobby, and a few minutes later the soldier stepped into his office. Mathis had a hard time seeing this baby-faced kid as an undercover terrorist, but if Mathis didn’t verify it for himself, he was afraid he wouldn’t sleep tonight.
Wright saluted, and Mathis looked him over, trying to justify the words he was about to mutter. “Sergeant, roll up your right sleeve, all the way to your elbow.”
Wright looked confused, which was to be expected if he had nothing to fear, but the fact that he didn’t comply immediately was what sent red flags up.
Recalling the tales he’d heard about the marked men over the years, mostly from Bowman, Mathis drew his pistol, which he kept holstered beneath his desk. He had it aimed at Wright, who didn’t react as surprised as Mathis thought he should. “I gave you a direct order, Sergeant.”
Wright went for his sidearm faster than Mathis thought possible, and had he not already had his own gun drawn, the kid would have easily outdueled him. Mathis put three rounds into Wright’s chest as the soldier’s pistol was waist high, a testament to how fast the sergeant drew his weapon. The kid squeezed off a dying shot that ricocheted off the floor before he collapsed.
Mathis rose from his chair and walked around the desk without breaking aim, but clearly the kid was dead. Mathis knelt over the sergeant’s body, grabbed his right arm, and rolled up the sleeve.
“Hell’s bells,” said Mathis. This changes everything.
*
1:00 p.m. EST
Herald Harbor, Maryland
Vinson sat in an office alone to compose himself after a few setbacks. Malakhov had failed to contain the three men in Baku; the entire mission was an embarrassing mess, which wouldn’t help things with the Russians. Vinson feared he’d made a mistake by sending Malakhov at all. There had been little chance of success against all three of their enemies, even with Levi tagging along. I should have been patient, he thought.
Mick was doing all he could to locate William Garrett’s family, but even that search was yielding no results. Vinson had no idea where his three nemeses were, having lost contact with everyone in Baku. The best he could hope for was to locate the three men at Eglin, where he had men posted, watching for their return.
Meanwhile, his men in Chicago had witnessed the aftermath of the FBI apprehending Dr. Brewer and one of their couriers, another disturbing turn of events. Jesse Vercher must have told them about the doctor, which was possible, given the man had only been turned a few weeks. Again, Vinson regretted not being more vigilant, for the Brewer debacle should have been preventable. Even worse, Hart had once again been involved. The agent was slowly becoming as much of a nuisance as Cane and Daniel.
Another equally troubling development was Plumber’s sudden interest in Senator Theodore Simon. The attorney general, Manning, had caught the interim FBI director snooping around but hadn’t been able to reach Plumber yet. Manning insisted there was nothing to worry about, but Vinson wasn’t so sure. It seemed like the most unlikely people were the ones bringing hidden elements of their plot into the light instead of the three he was focused on.
Vinson tried to reason with himself that it didn’t matter, but it was frustrating. His recent aggressive approach had possibly contributed to this latest exposure, but he had trouble regretting his actions.
Vinson longed for the day when he would need none of these unwanted allies, and it was tempting to eliminate them all. His government connections and the Russians were only pawns to achieve a bigger goal. They had been necessary leading up to this point, but soon he’d wash his hands of them all.
Vinson’s fingers ran along his phone’s earpiece as he considered his big plan. One call would be all it took to make his problems disappear. In an instant, he could dispatch thousands of marked men all over the country, commanding them to eliminate everyone he targeted. It was a blissful thought, knowing the power he wielded. It would cover his tracks by having Simon and Manning eliminated, though their deaths would only prompt a more thorough investigation, leading to more exposed corruption at higher levels of government.
The biggest drawback to these hypothetical assassinations would be the inevitable Russian backlash. Such headlines might scare them into backing out of their part of the terrorist plot, which was the one element Vinson couldn’t risk. Though his time for needing the Russians’ participation would soon be over, that time had yet to come.
Considering this, Vinson called Voronoff, the Russian officer still in Miami, to gauge the man’s reaction to the Baku incident.
“We are disturbed,” said Voronoff. “My sources say Malakhov is in custody, held by the local Baku authorities.”
So the weasel is alive, thought Vinson. “Malakhov knew the risk going in. I never advised him to invade Baku.”
“It was the only way,” said Voronoff. “The mission happened on very short notice.”
“We had all three enemies there at once,�
�� said Vinson. “It was an opportunity we couldn’t pass up.”
“Your ambition had high costs,” said Voronoff. “You’re pushing things. The last thing we want is strained relations between the U.S. and Russia. It’s bad timing.”
Voronoff was right. The only thing that could jeopardize their big plan would be for a war to break out between the two countries. “What if we speed up the timeline?” he asked. “How soon could the Russians be ready?”
Voronoff laughed. “Speed up? You’re lucky we’re even still having this conversation.”
And you’re lucky I haven’t taken your life from afar, thought Vinson. He fumed at the man’s arrogance. Had the Russian not seen what he was capable of?
“I’ll be headed back to Russia to meet with the other leaders in a few days,” said Voronoff. “I’ll be in touch then.”
A few days? He must be enjoying himself in Miami, thought Vinson.
After disconnecting, Vinson again felt his anger rising. He tried calling Cane for the third time today, to no avail, and threw his earpiece across the room. He longed to take his frustration out on something, and seeing Cane’s face as he watched the people he cared about die would satisfy Vinson immensely. However, it was still too soon. He had a feeling having so many of Cane’s loved ones would equate to something more valuable, eventually. He just had to be patient.
Step Ahead
October 2, 2028
2:00 p.m. EST
Miami, Florida
Barkley sat alone in her holding cell, an empty interrogation room. Her face hurt, and she had a splitting headache, but the sorrow she felt for letting Tina be abducted far outweighed any of her physical ailments. She hadn’t been able to talk to Hart, though she figured he already knew what happened. Barkley missed her good friend and partner, for right now she could use some of those uplifting words Hart was so good at.
Being detained had only added insult to injury, and Barkley wondered how long she’d have to be here. I have to find Tina, she thought. It was bad enough that she’d let the girl slip away and had cost Gonzalez and David Rogers their lives, but now she was stashed away while Vinson and his men did as they pleased with Tina.
The only thing Barkley had right now was hope. Maybe Hart had found Bowman, Swelling, or Shauna, or perhaps Lindsey Flanagan had made headway with Plumber. She feared that unless one of these scenarios took place, she and Hart would have nowhere else to go.
Two officers had been in and out of the room to check on her, one of them furnishing her with lunch and an ice pack. They’d wanted to bring her to the local hospital, but she refused, knowing her injuries would just need time to heal. She’d set her own broken nose in the bathroom, and the bleeding had finally stopped, but the pain would linger for weeks.
Barkley watched the door swing open, and to her surprise, it was Plumber who walked in. He was taller than he looked on video and was better dressed. He carried himself with a certain authority, but she could see concern in his eyes as he sat down at the table across from her. He waved away two agents who’d entered with him. “A moment, gentlemen,” he said. When they were alone, Plumber looked at her and smiled. “Agent Barkley, how are you feeling?”
Barkley grinned, though no part of her felt okay. “I’ve been better.”
“Our conversation isn’t being recorded,” said Plumber. “What’s said in here stays between the two of us.”
Barkley shrugged. “I don’t care, Plumber. I watched an innocent father and a fine Miami cop die. A little girl is missing because I couldn’t stop it from happening. So if you think I’m worried about my statements being used against me, you don’t know me. And besides, I’ve already said what needs to be said. The problem is that no one is listening.”
Plumber smiled pleasantly and leaned forward on the table. “You’re right, Agent Barkley. First, I’m sorry for what happened today. Maybe if someone, including me, would’ve listened to you and Hart sooner, there would’ve been a different outcome. However, this wasn’t on you. You did everything you could. You even killed two of the guys. Don’t beat yourself up over this.”
Barkley sensed he was being sincere, though she was confused about why. Had Hart worked his magic on Plumber already?
“I have some things to share with you,” said Plumber. “I’m technically supposed to be here questioning you and bringing you in. That’s what my superiors want, anyway. The last day has been very revealing, and I credit you with helping get through this hard head of mine.”
Barkley couldn’t help but smile, not only at his humor but also out of relief. The conversation seemed to be headed down an encouraging path.
“Your brash words made an impression on me. So, while I know you’re still aching over the recent tragedy, you must also know that you’re not a failure.”
Plumber told her about the recent events involving Hart and Flanagan, Brewer, and his own disturbing findings.
“A.G. Manning?” asked Barkley. “That’s frightening.”
“Do you know Vernon Blake?” asked Plumber. Barkley shook her head. “Hart is trying to find him now. This man may know where to find Bowman and Webb.”
“Brandon Webb is with Bowman?” asked Barkley.
“My informant thinks so,” said Plumber.
“I’ll bet Hart has Lynks trying to find Blake,” said Barkley.
Plumber had a funny look on his face, and Barkley instantly knew why. She’d just confirmed that she and Hart were still in contact with Cane and Lynks. Plumber must’ve seen her apprehensive look. “We’re beyond that,” he said. “This investigation has reached another level.”
Barkley was glad to hear it, but it really didn’t mean much. “We finally get your confidence, and yet there’s still no safe place for me and Hart.”
“And now me,” said Plumber.
Barkley felt silly, for she hadn’t realized how true his statement was. “You’re right,” she said. “I guess we’re in this together.”
“What do you need from me?” asked Plumber. “I still have access to FBI resources, for now. I don’t think I’m safe in Washington, though.”
“You’re not,” said Barkley. “If Manning is dirty, there’s no telling who else is.”
“There’s a senator involved too,” said Plumber.
“Nothing surprises me anymore,” said Barkley. “Can I call Hart? We should all talk and form a plan going forward.”
“Of course,” said Plumber.
*
October 2, 2028
2:30 p.m. CST
Wisconsin
Hart couldn’t believe it when he saw Barkley’s number flash across his car console. He tapped his earpiece and greeted his friend enthusiastically. “Barkley! How are you doing?”
“Much better,” she said. “I’ll have a sore face for a while, and I’ll bet I’m not much to look at.”
To Hart, Barkley sounded much more upbeat than he’d expected, and he was happy to hear it.
“I have Plumber sitting in front of me,” said Barkley. “Just wanted you to know, so you wouldn’t get all mushy with him listening.”
Hart laughed. “Thanks for the heads up. Hello, Director.”
“Hello, Hart,” said Plumber. “Your partner here is back in high spirits, as you can hear. It looks like we’ll be working together, the three of us.”
Hart listened as Plumber updated him on the latest, informing him of the attorney general’s likely involvement.
“Manning,” said Hart. “I’ve never spoken to him personally. I guess we know who was enabling Foster.” The attorney general would’ve been the first person the former FBI director would report to, so it made sense that Manning would be complicit.
“Manning and Senator Simon,” said Hart. “Those are two big names, but I’ll bet they’re not the only two.”
“Which is why I’m staying far from Washington at the moment,” said Plumber.
“That’s why you went to Barkley,” said Hart, now making sense of what earlier had seemed
to be an odd use of Plumber’s time.
“That, and to make sure Barkley was okay,” said Plumber.
“Where are you?” Barkley asked Hart.
“I’m on my way to Wisconsin Dells,” said Hart.
“What’s there?” asked Barkley.
“Vernon Blake,” said Hart.
“You found him?” asked Plumber.
Hart hesitated. “Lynks found him,” said Barkley. “Plumber knows, Hart. It’s okay.”
Hart sighed. Plumber wouldn’t care about what now seemed like minor discretions. “Well, in that case, I’m happy to report that Cane, William, and Daniel all made it out okay. Cane landed in the States a few hours ago. William and Daniel were delayed, so they won’t be back in Eglin until later tonight.”
“That’s wonderful,” said Barkley. “Maybe Cane can help?”
“No can do,” said Hart. “The reason he went ahead was to secure William’s family. He’ll be unavailable for a while.”
“What can we do while you talk to Blake?” asked Plumber.
Hart thought for a moment. “We still need to get a lead on Swelling, Shauna, and Tina. How we do that, I’m not sure.”
Hart heard mumbling in the background and waited. “I’m gonna see what Lynks can do,” said Barkley.
“Good,” said Hart. “I’m not far away from the address now. I’ll call when I’m done.”
“Good luck,” said Plumber.
Boy, do we need some, thought Hart.
*
Wisconsin Dells was best known for its huge water park and golf courses, an ideal escape for a large family looking for a good time. Lynks verified Blake had bought a house here over a year ago, moving his wife and four kids to the pleasant location.
Blake’s home was two-story and state-of-the art, in an upscale community surrounded by houses that looked very similar. The neighborhood was inviting, with kids playing in yards and dads trimming hedges.
Hart pulled up the driveway and parked in front of the closed garage doors. He looked around him for anything suspicious, fearing the marked men might be watching the house or had perhaps followed him.