by Will Jordan
Leaning back in the pew, he regarded Drake for a moment or two before he began.
‘You’re quite right, of course,’ he admitted. ‘Your mother and I served in what you refer to as the Circle for almost as long as you’ve been alive. Long enough to see the changes that took place.’
Drake’s eyes narrowed. ‘What sort of changes?’
‘The organisation was formed with two major objectives. Firstly, to facilitate the collapse of the USSR and bring about the end of the Cold War, using any means necessary. And secondly, to establish a new world order favourable to American interests for the foreseeable future.’
‘So what went wrong?’
‘Wrong?’ Starke gave a resigned shrug. ‘They won. That’s what went wrong.’
‘I don’t understand.’
‘The Circle’s entire purpose was to win not just the Cold War, but the peace that followed,’ Starke explained. ‘Without an enemy to overcome, the organisation began to stagnate and drift. Their goals shifted from using power as means to end division and conflict, to using division and conflict as a means to accrue more power. They sowed the seeds of proxy wars and revolutions all over the world, to take advantage of the chaos and instability that followed. The rise of the internet gave them the ability to control global communications and reshape public opinion. And as their power and influence grew, so did their ambition and hubris. I imagine you’re familiar with the old maxim of power corrupting?’
‘I’ve heard of it,’ Drake replied, thinking of the man poised to become head of the biggest intelligence agency in the world.
‘The Circle weren’t immune to that either. I saw it, and so did your mother. We knew we couldn’t simply resign and walk away, so… we resolved to do something about it.’
Drake moved forward, approaching the NSA director. ‘What did she do?’
‘Your mother believed the Circle could be steered back on the correct path by altering their leadership. She felt they needed a fresh perspective. Someone… less influenced by the past. In this case, a young operative recruited into the Agency.’
Drake’s heart began to beat faster. ‘Anya.’
‘Correct,’ he confirmed. ‘Anya was quite unlike the rest of the Circle. A soldier, a spy, a person with courage, intelligence and a natural flair for leadership. But more importantly, a sense of conviction and morality. She was your mother’s biggest hope, and she convinced me to help her. Together we saw to it that Anya grew quickly in power and influence, to the point where the Circle began to take notice. They agreed to meet with her, intending to bring her into the fold.’
‘So what happened?’ Drake asked, though he sensed he knew the answer.
‘Marcus Cain happened,’ Starke said grimly. ‘He knew that if Anya was inducted into the Inner Circle, he never would be. So he turned her own unit against her, convinced its leader that she was planning to betray them.’
Drake knew this part of the story well enough, having heard it from Anya herself. Munro, her most trusted lieutenant, had attempted a coup against her. In the resulting bloodbath, Task Force Black practically tore itself apart.
‘The Circle’s faith in Anya was broken after that. And your mother,’ Starke added. ‘She knew neither of them would reach such a position of influence again.’
‘So what did she do?’
Starke spread his hands. ‘What could she do? She accepted it. Meanwhile, with Anya neutralised, Cain became the favourite. Your mother knew that if he joined the Inner Circle, there would be no limit to his power. She knew she had to stop him. He knew it too, so he recruited you into the Agency as a precaution.’
Drake closed his eyes as the truth dawned on him. ‘Leverage.’
‘Precisely. If Freya made a move against him, he would take revenge on you. And so the balance was maintained, for a while at least.’
Drake hadn’t known. He hadn’t suspected the real reason his mother had never tried to reach out to him, never attempted to make contact. She’d been prevented from doing so by Cain himself.
‘By 2007, Cain was a rising star in both the Circle and the Agency. But he also had a lot of loose ends to tie up: men whose services he’d used to rise to power; men who could compromise him. He needed someone with the right skills to take them out, who couldn’t possibly implicate him if they were discovered. In other words, he needed Anya. She was still alive in a Russian prison, so he broke her out, knowing she would kill the men he needed killed in search of answers. And who better to break her out than you?’
Drake was obliged to sit down on the pew beside him at that point. His head was whirling as the complex machinations of the past few years were at last laid bare, outlined in curt, efficient fashion as if Starke were a history teacher recounting some long-forgotten battle. The sheer scope and complexity of Cain’s plans was simply staggering.
‘But with Anya free and you now working against Cain, your mother sensed an opportunity. A chance to join forces with Anya and take Cain down together. At least, that’s what she planned.’
Washington DC – April 24th, 2009
Starke was silent once she’d finished outlining her plan, staring pensively into the flames flickering in the fireplace beside him. She had travelled all the way to his private residence to present her plan, arriving late at night.
Thoughtful and meticulous as always, she could sense Starke’s potent mind churning through everything she had told him, considering the risks and the rewards, the variables and the possibilities.
Freya didn’t rush him. Starke was a man who spoke when he was ready, who waited until he’d thoroughly arrived at a conclusion before voicing his thoughts.
‘Are you sure this is what you want?’ he finally asked.
‘I am.’
She knew it was possible to reach out to Anya through their old communication channels. Whether or not the former Agency operative would agree to the meeting was uncertain, but she had to try.
‘Anya put her faith in you once before, and it didn’t work out well,’ Starke warned her. ‘She won’t have forgotten that.’
Freya sighed and nodded, the sting of Cain’s betrayal still cutting deep after nearly a decade. ‘That’s what I’m counting on. She’s angry, she’s dangerous and she wants revenge. Maybe we can use that.’
‘Suppose she takes out that revenge on you. What then?’
Freya took a drink of the Scotch he’d poured for her. The potent drink brought little comfort, but it helped take the edge off her restless thoughts.
‘Then I die,’ she conceded, her eyes turning towards the fire.
She sighed, thinking of the long series of tumultuous events that had led up to this decision. The triumphs and the failures, the alliances and the betrayals. And all of it amounting to one thing – nothing.
‘I’m sixty years old, Richard. I’m an old woman,’ she reflected. ‘This may be my last chance to make a difference.’
Starke turned towards her, struck by the finality in her tone. ‘You helped reshape the world, Freya. Nobody can take that away from you.’
‘And I flattered myself that I’d made it a better place,’ she remarked sharply. ‘I didn’t… we didn’t. It was sheer arrogance to presume something like that. The world would have been better off without me, without the Circle, without the mess we’ve created.’
‘Do you really think it can be undone now, after all this time?’
‘I don’t know,’ she admitted. ‘But I think the world deserves a chance to find out.’
Starke sighed and nodded, recognising that she wouldn’t be swayed from her course. ‘Let’s just hope it’s ready when the time comes.’
Freya drained the last of her Scotch. ‘There’s one thing I need you to do for me.’
‘Name it.’
‘In case… something goes wrong, I left a message for my son, Ryan. I told him to find you. If that time ever comes… do what you can to help him. Please.’
‘Of course.’ Starke laid a comforting hand on h
er shoulder. ‘I won’t let you down.’
* * *
‘I warned her against it, but she was adamant,’ Starke said, shaking his head sadly. ‘Freya wasn’t the kind of woman to change her mind.’
Of that, Drake had little doubt. As he was discovering, Freya Shaw had proven to be an extraordinary woman, not just in her accomplishments, but in her strength of character and resolve. Willing to risk everything, to sacrifice anything for what she believed in.
‘I think she saw it as a chance at redemption. Your mother had carried the guilt of what happened to Anya for years, never forgave herself for it. She believed that taking down Cain together would help make things right. That was her hope.’ He looked down at his hands, clasped in his lap. ‘But it never happened.’
North Wales, UK – May 1st, 2009
Yanking her arm free, Freya whirled around to face her adversary, eyes gleaming with defiance. She wouldn’t give them the satisfaction of putting a bullet through the back of her head.
‘You look me in the eye, you coward,’ she said, staring right at them. ‘Look me in the eye when you pull the trigger.’
If she’d expected her words to strike a chord, to engender some kind of reaction, she was to be disappointed. A second came and went. A second broken only by the sigh of the evening breeze, and distant hoot of an owl, and the hammering of Freya’s heart.
She saw the barrel of a weapon raised, saw the long snout of a silencer gleaming in the thin sliver of moonlight.
Freya let out a breath. ‘Of all the people to do this—’
A 9mm slug passing through her chest silenced that sentence for her. She let out a strangled gasp, as if in surprise, then fell backward and collapsed to the ground, her body skidding down the rocky slope until it came to rest in the pool of stagnant water.
* * *
Starke let out a breath, his gaze unfocussed as he replayed an old memory. ‘Your mother was willing to risk everything to stop Cain. And in the end, it cost her everything.’
‘You think he had her killed,’ Drake prompted him.
‘It’s the only logical conclusion.’
Drake leaned forward, staring him hard in the eye. ‘You’re sure it was Cain?’
Starke turned to regard him. ‘The balance of power had changed. Freya had become a threat to him, and Marcus only knows one way to handle threats like that. Just like Carpenter, just like Surovsky, just like everyone who stands against him.’ He nodded. ‘Yes, I’m sure it was him.’
Drake leaned back against the pew, his mind racing along with his heart. He’d long suspected Cain’s involvement in his mother’s death, but knowing the circumstances that had led to it was another matter altogether. The more he learned about his mother, the more he realised how wrong he’d been about her.
‘You knew this, and you let him get away with it,’ Drake said, his shock and turmoil crystallising into the most inevitable emotion of all – anger. ‘You stood back and did nothing.’
Starke considered that carefully for a second or two, not as a man fearing for his life and wondering what plea or intimation might save him, but as someone genuinely reflecting on their own actions and motivations.
‘Yes,’ he conceded. ‘I did.’
‘Why?’
‘Because I didn’t want to end up like her,’ Starke said, a harder edge in his voice now. ‘Marcus Cain is an enemy unlike any other. Every time you make a move, he’s three steps ahead of you. Every plan you come up with, he has a contingency for it. He’s been playing this game almost as long as you’ve been alive, he knows every trick, anticipates every strategy. That’s why he’s still standing when everyone else around him has fallen. What can you expect to do against a man like that?’
Drake’s gaze didn’t waver for a second. Everything Starke had said was perfectly true, as he knew from bitter experience. Marcus Cain was a man of immense cunning and intelligence, commanding virtually unlimited resources and unparalleled power, with no weakness or compassion left to hold him back.
All of that was true, but none of it mattered to Drake any longer.
‘I’m going to kill the bastard. And you’re going to help me.’
Chapter 41
An hour later, Drake returned to the disused garage with Dietrich in tow, giving the team a hasty summary of what had taken place at the cathedral – everything he’d learned from Starke, and the plan he’d put forward.
Needless to say, the revelations about their mother hit Jessica particularly hard. Drake could see his sister struggling with her emotions as he relayed her final conversation with Starke. He would speak with her more later, but for now there were more urgent matters to discuss.
‘He’s willing to help us,’ he concluded. ‘He recognises the threat Cain poses now, not just to us but to everyone if he joins the Inner Circle. The only way to stop him is to take him out.’
‘Well that’s great, but what can he actually do?’ Frost asked. ‘No offence, but he didn’t do jack shit for your mom.’
‘That was different. He underestimated Cain’s reach, and he trusted Freya to cover her own back.’ Drake sighed unhappily. ‘He was wrong on both counts. He won’t make that mistake again.’
‘Which brings us back to the original question,’ Mitchell pointed out. ‘What can Starke do for us?’
‘He’s the director of the NSA, and a senior member of the Circle. He can give us intel on Cain’s movements and communications that nobody else has access to. And he can make contact with the man himself. That gives us what we need – a target window.’
The most fundamental aspect of any assassination was knowing where and when your target was going to be vulnerable. Security and physical defences could be overcome, but finding that precious window of opportunity was crucial.
For this reason, presidents, heads of state and even high-profile celebrities employed misdirection as their principle defence. Avoiding routine and regularity, they never travelled the same route twice, often using multiple vehicles with fake passengers to confuse pursuits and confound ambushes.
Marcus Cain was no different. The man was well aware of the enemies he’d amassed, and made use of every defensive measure in the arsenal. His home was like a fortress, impossible to assault without heavy casualties. He rarely ventured beyond the highly secure environment at Langley, and when he did, he was never without an armed escort. The only window of opportunity was when he was on the move. Now, with Starke’s help, they might just have it.
‘But even if we can listen in on him, how do we get to him?’ Jessica asked. ‘He must have security.’
‘We can’t get within a mile of Langley,’ Frost agreed. ‘Even if we could, we’d never make it out.’
‘We don’t need to. There’s one place we know Cain has to be soon,’ Drake said, bringing up a news article on his cell phone and holding it up. ‘Here.’
The title of the article read: A New Era – CIA director expected to be confirmed soon.
‘Son of a bitch,’ Frost muttered as the implications sank in.
‘The Select Committee is going to vote to confirm him anytime now,’ Drake explained. ‘Cain has to be there for the confirmation hearing.’
‘He’ll be vulnerable,’ Dietrich realised.
Their timing was indeed fortuitous, arriving in DC mere days before he was expected to be sworn in. Marcus Cain’s rise to power might, if they were lucky, also prove to be his undoing.
‘The confirmation ceremony is done in the Capitol Building,’ Drake went on. ‘We can’t hope to get past the security there, but Cain has to get to and from that location, probably by motorcade. If we can track him, that’s our best chance to make the hit.’
‘Jesus,’ Mitchell said, rapidly considering the implications of his plan. ‘Taking out an Agency motorcade in the middle of DC…’
‘I know,’ Drake said, grimly acknowledging the potential for collateral damage. Not just amongst Cain’s protective detail, but also any DC civilians who might get caught
in the crossfire. ‘This could get messy.’
‘Is that who we are now?’ Frost asked bluntly.
‘Nobody’s saying this will be easy—’
‘You’re talking about starting a war in the middle of Washington,’ the young woman protested. ‘That’s not “difficult”. That’s insane.’
‘It’s our best shot at ending this. Maybe our only one.’
‘Not if you get killed in the process, and take half the city with you,’ Jessica chimed in. ‘This isn’t supposed to be a bloodbath, Ryan.’
Drake let his breath out slowly, considering this. A protracted firefight on the streets of Washington would almost certainly result in heavy casualties, not to mention drawing in law enforcement and military units from all over the city. But there was no alternative that he could think of.
‘You said yourself, we can’t get within a mile of Langley,’ he retorted. ‘And there’s no way past the Capitol Building’s security. So both locations are a no-go.’
As the seat of the US Congress, the Capitol was one of the most secure buildings in the world, particularly during a confirmation hearing, when many high-ranking executives were likely to be in attendance.
Frost too was well aware of this fact, and had no comeback for him.
‘That leaves us with an ambush en route. It’s the only way this can work.’
It was an inelegant plan at best, but the only one that offered a chance of success. Drake had been on his share of ops that had begun under less than ideal circumstances, and pulled through all the same.
‘But—’
‘I hear what you’re saying,’ Drake cut in impatiently. ‘We can’t treat this op like downtown Baghdad, so the blood and guts routine is out. We need a way of doing this quick, smart and clean, and it starts with figuring out Cain’s movements. I need to know what he’s doing, where he’s going and who he’s talking to. Get me some options for surveillance, then we can use Starke to make it happen.’
Frost opened her mouth to protest, then thought better of it. ‘Fine,’ she conceded.
