Trojan

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Trojan Page 24

by Brandon Clark


  She handed it to him, and he took it gratefully, slurping it down in one gulp.

  “I’ll be right back,” she said. “Wait here, and I’ll be right back.”

  “I really should come with you,” he said. “Starting to stand.”

  Haley put her hand on his shoulder again.

  “Don’t push it,” she said. “Not worth taking a chance with your health. Just catch your breath, and I’ll be right back.”

  She walked off and push through the door before he could say anything more.

  For a government office, it was more opulent than Haley would have anticipated. Windows lined two of the walls providing a beautiful view of the shipyard and ocean beyond. A mahogany desk sat on one end with its back to the windows, and a small conference table and a large TV sat opposite it. It took Haley only a moment to find the network jack and quickly plug her laptop in.

  Bonnie fell through the sky and landed on top of the building with a thump. She shook her head to clear the disorientation and looked around at the skyline of blinking lights and looping cables. She was standing on a concrete slab with air vents sticking up at random intervals. The air smelled of server room ozone and a subtle hint of seawater.

  She tapped the Bluetooth in her ear and called Josef.

  “I’m in.” She raced over to the air vents and yanked one off before jumping inside. Sliding down the air ducts like a kid on a fast food playground slide, she twisted and turned until she dropped into a cavernous room filled with identical corporate drones wearing black suits, black ties, and black sunglasses. The only variation was the color of their hair, though they all had the same early-eighties comb-over.

  The drones were queued up in a long snaking line that went from the front of the cavernous room all the way to the back and out a set of double doors. Along the walls were innumerable sets of double doors and the sound of those banging open and shut filled the room.

  Most of the drones were empty handed, but a few carried different colored folders. As they reached the front of the line, another, more enormous but otherwise identical, drone, either took their folder and passed it back to another drone for processing or handed an empty-handed drone a manila folder, only for them to sprint off through one of the other doors that ringed the room.

  “Hurry up,” Josef said. “Dana is almost to the inspection station.”

  Haley shuffled forward and cut in front of a drone several steps from the desk. The drones looked at her curiously, but no one stopped her. She handed her own manila folder to the giant, who flipped through it quickly and then simply gave it back to another drone. The smaller drone took the file and ambled off through another door at the back.

  Bonnie stepped out of line and waited until the drone with her folder was out of sight.

  “Files up,” Bonnie said. “Dana should be good to go.”

  Chapter Forty-One

  “Roger that,” Josef said. “I’ll let her know.”

  Haley ended the call and started to pack up her laptop when she heard the door behind her creak open.

  “Miss?” Ron said.

  “Just finishing up,” she said.

  “I was just going to say . . .” Ron’s voice trailed off when he saw her over on the far wall away from the TV. “What are you doing over there?”

  “Oh,” Haley said. “The issue was with the wiring in the wall.”

  She tried to hide the ethernet cord behind your back and slipped her laptop back into the tool bag.

  “There’s no co-ax cable in that wall.” Ron’s eyes narrowed.

  “You’re not from the cable company, are you?”

  “Don’t be ridiculous,” Haley laughed. “You think I where this jumpsuit because it looks good on me?”

  Ron took a step towards her. “I don’t think you should be up here.”

  “No problem,” Haley said. “I was just leaving.”

  She lifted her tool bag with the laptop with one hand and picked her phone up with the other. She started walking past him, but he reached out and grabbed your arm. She tried to pull back, but his grip was too firm.

  “Let me go,” she said. “I don’t want to cause trouble. I’m just trying to do my job.”

  “So am I,” Ron said. His voice had a dangerous edge to it. “I appreciate what you did for me, but I think we should check your credentials.”

  “Fine, everything will check out,” Haley said. “But let me go.”

  “Promise you won’t run off?”

  Haley rolled her eyes. “Pinky promise.”

  Ron nodded and released her arm.

  Haley took off in a sprint.

  Ron yelled and snatched the strap of her tool bag with surprising dexterity. Haley tried yanking free, but the man outweighed her by a hundred and fifty pounds. She slipped her phone into her jumpsuit pocket and grabbed with the strap with both hands. The sound of glass cracking was barely audible over the grunting of the two combatants, but Haley prayed her laptop hadn’t shattered.

  Still, nothing worked. Ron was simply too big and too strong.

  So, Haley fought dirty.

  She pulled her leg back and kicked him in the shins.

  Ron yelped in pain and jumped up on his left leg, clutching his right shin with both hands.

  Haley took off without looking back. It only took a second for Ron to recover, but it was enough for her to flee down the hall. She heard him yelling after her as she plowed through the exit door and into the stairway. She flew down all three flights and burst out of the stairwell into the elevator lobby, past several surprised office workers, vaulted over the turnstiles, and breezed past the front desk before George could get up or say anything.

  She jumped into the revolving door, nearly smashing the other side into a middle-aged woman, but then was out into the sunlight and freedom. She stumbled down the short steps and quickly looked across the street to the café.

  Josef was nowhere to be seen.

  The table where they had been sitting was empty.

  She jabbed a hand into her pocket to call him, but her pocket was empty. Patting her jumpsuit frantically, she groaned as she remembered the sound of glass shattering during her struggle with Ron and realized it hadn’t been her laptop.

  She whipped her head back and forth, scanning the street and hoping Josef would pull around the corner any second with the car.

  But she heard shouts from inside the building and decided that standing in front of the crime scene probably was not the best place for her to wait. She raced down the sidewalk and ducked into an alley as the doors exploded open. Ron and George, huffing and puffing, came through the glass doors and started searching the street for her.

  Haley peeked out from behind the brick wall and saw both men were sweating and panting.

  Neither had a weapon out, but Ron held her cracked phone in one hand. They spoke quickly between themselves, then George pulled a radio from his belt and spoke into it. Whoever was on the other end replied, and the guard nodded. He said something else to Ron, and they turned and retreated back into the building.

  Haley gave a small sigh of relief, mixed with annoyance. They wouldn’t be able to get into the phone, but she didn’t exactly have time to go to the Apple store.

  She quickly stripped out of her jumpsuit, revealing jeans and a Metallica T-shirt, and tossed it in a nearby dumpster, along with her badge and tool bag, minus her laptop, of course.

  Gone was Elizabeth, the cable woman, and back was Haley, the coffee shop entrepreneur.

  She pulled her hair up in a quick bun and strode out of the alleyway, not glancing back at the Customs office, attempting to act carefree, despite the blood thundering in her ears.

  She needed to get to their backup site.

  Except she had planned to navigate there using her phone.

  With a sigh, she started into the convenience store on the corner to ask for directions.

  “Roger that,” Josef said. “I’ll let her know.”

  He tapped the Blue
tooth to hang up then dial another number.

  “They’re almost in position,” he said.

  “Good,” Vlad said from the other end of the line. “I look forward to saying hello again.”

  Chapter Forty-Two

  Durdan fidgeted at the front of the store where the Tailor had placed him.

  “If you’re wasting my time,” he said. “You’re going to regret it.”

  “Yeah, yeah,” the Tailor replied. His voice echoed in the cavernous department store. “I’ll go to jail; don’t drop the soap; blah blah blah.”

  That had been more or less what Durdan had planned to say. Not that he felt particularly intimidating. Posing as a manikin wearing a floral T-shirt and shorts that were barely long enough to cover the family jewels didn’t exactly inspire fear.

  “Honestly,” the Tailor continued. “Even if I make it through this, I’m screwed anyway. Either I go to jail because I piss you off, or customers find out I’ve been helping you, and I end up dead in a ditch.”

  “There’s always witness protection.”

  The Tailor snorted. “And live on government subsidized fast food and shopping at Wally Mart?” He laughed. “I’ll take my chances.”

  “I’d have done the same,” Clyde’s voice said over the store intercom. “You Feds have an unhealthy love for Burger Bippy . . .”

  Durdan wasn’t sure where the other man was hiding, but he had clearly worked his way into the building’s security system.

  “Never say I didn’t offer,” Durdan said, ignoring Clyde. “When’s this guy supposed to get here? My arms are getting tired.”

  Tailor checked his watch.

  “Should be any minute now,” he said. “He told me to have everything ready because he was in a hurry and had a tight deadline.”

  “And he just wanted new identities?”

  “New, domestic identities,” the Tailor replied.

  “Do you usually work for DS-13?”

  “This will be a first,” Tailor said. “But I’m sure that they have a big demand, so I’d love to break into the market.”

  “I know you’re only saying that to maintain your cover,” Durdan said, giving the Tailor a sideways glance.

  “Of course, of course,” the Tailor said waving hands as if batting Durdan’s question away. “I would never do anything to compromise our relationship.”

  It was Durdan’s turn to snort.

  The chime sang through the department store and Durdan froze. The Tailor turned to greet the newcomer.

  “You have the IDs?”

  He had appeared behind Durdan, so he wasn’t sure who the person was, but the voice sounded familiar.

  Durdan heard the sound of the Tailor riffling through his pockets and then of several plastic cards shuffling together.

  “All here,” the Tailor said. “If you’re happy with the quality, I’ll print and drop them at the designated location. And I can always make more, along with a variety of other similar services.”

  “If these hold up, I may take you up on that,” the man said. “There is one thing I need right away, though: a new passport.”

  “Well, fortunately for you, I can whip something up right now,” the Tailor said. “And I’ll give you a fifty percent discount since you’re a new customer.”

  There was a short pause.

  “Make it fast,” the man said.

  Durdan heard footsteps, the Tailor’s clicking dress shoes, and the thumping sound of more solid boots. He strained his eyes sideways to catch a glimpse of the customer as the Tailor led him to the workbench in front of where he stood.

  Durdan’s blood froze as he recognized the tall, green power armor–clad figure.

  The Tailor handed him a blue passport book, and the man held it up to the light and flipped through a few pages.

  “I obviously can’t give you an answer until I see the final product,” Stryker said. “But even from these images, I can tell these are high-quality.”

  “A craftsman takes pride in his work,” the Tailor said. “And a businessman offers volume discounts.”

  Stryker chuckled. “Well, if all goes according to plan, I will certainly need more.”

  “And I will be happy to oblige,” the Tailor said. “When would you like them delivered?”

  “Like I said, if everything goes according to plan,” Stryker said. “I’ll let you know tomorrow morning how many I still need.”

  “Still?” The Tailor said.

  “Let’s just say I’ve got a high-risk op in the works tonight that may well rid me of several problems at once.”

  “Always good to kill two birds with one stone,” the Tailor said.

  “Especially if those birds are Russian or self-righteous hackers.”

  The Tailor’s eyebrows rose.

  “I’d never speak ill of a customer, but if you are referring to large Volkag friend, I wish you luck in the endeavor.”

  “You’ve had issues with him too?”

  “He nearly killed one of my new customers.”

  “I’m aware,” Stryker said. “And while I’m glad he didn’t finish the job when he tried, he would be doing me a favor now. Bullets aren’t cheap.”

  Tailor held up his hands.

  “Don’t say anymore,” he said. “Plausible deniability.”

  Stryker’s helmet bobbed up and down. “You’re right,” he said. “It’s just hard to contain my excitement.”

  He pulled out several gold coins from his utility belt before handing them over to the Tailor.

  “This is for the IDs,” he said. Then he pulled out several more coins. “And this is for your discretion.”

  The Tailor held up his hands. “My discretion is included in the price,” he said. “You can repay me by coming back for more.”

  Stryker’s helmet bobbed again, and he put the coins back in his belt pouch. “I’ll see you soon.” With that, he faded away.

  Durdan jumped down and ran over to Tailor.

  “Did you get that?” he said. “Clyde?”

  “I know where he is,” Clyde’s voice said quietly.

  “Great. Where should I send the team?”

  “You don’t understand.”

  Clyde materialized in front of the workbench. His face was tight and his skin pale.

  “That was Josef.”

  Chapter Forty-Three

  “Thanks for your help, Robbie,” Dana said.

  “My pleasure,” her new friend, Robbie, replied from the main window of the inspection gatehouse. “If you need anything else, just let me know. Those pencil pushers can be a drag.”

  “Tell me about it,” Dana laughed. “I appreciate you saving my butt though. I owe you a favor.”

  Robbie waved his hand dismissively. “No one is perfect on their first day.”

  Dana gave him another smile and wave as she headed out the door.

  When she heard the door click shut behind her, she let out a relieved breath. Even though everything had gone as well as could be expected, she always felt a weight lift when she was free.

  The afternoon was humid and bright, and, being right next to the dock, smelled of diesel fuel.

  She pulled her sunglasses out of her bag and strolled away from the inspection site towards her car.

  She crawled in the car and was about to turn the ignition when her phone started ringing.

  “Hey, babe,” she said. “What’s going on?”

  “Are you with Haley?” Bradley said.

  “Oh, I love you too, sugar bear,” Dana said. “I know you miss me so—”

  “Dana,” Bradley cut in, his voice sharp. “Are you with Haley?”

  “About to be,” Dana said, her voice growing serious. “Why?”

  “The kid you’ve been working with is in bed with the Russians.”

  “Josef?” Dana asked. “No, they killed his father.”

  “US Customs agents killed his father,” Bradley said. “And Haley gave them the information to find him.”

  “
She couldn’t have,” Dana said.

  “I paid her a bounty for that information.”

  “Oh, crap.”

  “Do you know where she is? I can have units there as soon as possible.”

  “I’ll be there in . . .” She checked her watch. “Ten minutes. I’ll let you know if we need help.”

  “Dana,” Bradley said quietly. “If Josef is really associated with DS-13, you’re not just fighting the Russians now. You need backup.”

  “We don’t know for sure that he is,” Dana said.

  “He is,” Hector’s voice cut in for the first time. “Didn’t think I’d ever say this, but I agree with Detective Dumbass. We need someone with firepower on our side.”

  “When did you get here?” Dana asked. She threw the car into reverse and started backing out.

  “He’s been working with me on a case,” Bradley said.

  “Oh,” Dana said, “Does he—”

  “We keep things professional. Better for both of our sanities.”

  “Except when he’s a dumbass.”

  Data started heading towards the freeway, pressing the accelerator a bit harder than necessary.

  “Where are you meeting Haley?” Bradley said.

  “I’ll let you know in eight minutes,” Dana snapped.

  “She could be dead by then,” Bradley said.

  “If you’re wrong,” Dana said. “You put her in jail for a very long time.”

  “If I’m right, she’ll still be alive.”

  “She’ll be fine,” Dana said. “I’m going to call her now. Bye.”

  “Be careful,” Bradley said. His voice was softer and more concerned than it had been.

  Despite the breakneck speed at which she was hurtling down the freeway, Dana’s lips twitched. “I will be,” Dana said softly.

  She ended the call and hit Haley’s contact icon.

  The phone rang, and Dana prayed Haley would answer.

 

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