by Will Jordan
For a couple of seconds, not one of them moved a muscle. They remained pressed against the tunnel wall, breathing hard, hardly believing they were still alive.
It was their saviour who first managed to rouse herself. ‘Hurry! Let’s go!’
Advancing past the stationary train and ignoring the warning shouts from the driver, the three women covered the remaining hundred yards or so to the big station up ahead. Abandoning the assault rifle, McKnight leapt up onto the platform and reached down to pull the others up. It was late at night by now, and there had been few people in the station to begin with. The crackle of gunfire from the tunnels had been enough to force the few remaining commuters to evacuate.
Both Jessica and Frost were approaching the limits of their endurance as they sprinted across the main concourse, up the escalators and through the ticket barriers.
‘Help!’ Jessica called out to the security guard on duty, feigning panic. ‘Someone’s shooting down there!’
The man was already on his radio, calling it in.
McKnight led them out through the main entrance and into the fresh night air beyond, rain still pattering down. Darting between traffic, she hurried across the busy main drag fronting the station and kept going, not stopping until both her companions were on the point of collapse.
‘In here,’ she said, indicating a narrow side alley used for garbage collection. Taking a deep breath, she looked back out onto the street to confirm they hadn’t been pursued. ‘We’re clear for now, but—’
She froze, eyeing the weapon now pointed at her.
‘Don’t fucking move, McKnight,’ Frost hissed. Injured and exhausted she might have been, but she was still perfectly capable of using a gun. And by the looks of things, she was eager to do so now.
‘Keira, what are you doing?’ Jessica demanded. ‘She just saved our lives.’
‘This bitch is the reason Cole is dead,’ the young woman spat. ‘She betrayed us, spied on us for Cain. None of this would be happening if not for her.’
McKnight shook her head. ‘It’s not what you think.’
‘Shut up!’ Frost moved closer, pressing the gun into her chest. ‘You fucking people, you’re all as bad as each other. You deserve this.’
McKnight raised her chin, staring her down. ‘Then do it,’ she said quietly. ‘If you think I deserve it, pull the trigger, Keira. I’m not afraid to die.’
‘Stop this!’ Jessica said, pushing herself between them, shaking with anger. ‘Whatever she did before, she saved our lives today. Are you going to kill her for that?’
Gritting her teeth, Frost looked for a second as if she was prepared to fire anyway. But then, letting out a breath, she stepped back, leaning against the wall for support. Her complexion was pale, her face tight with pain, her eyes heavy with grief.
‘You live with it,’ she said, glaring at McKnight. ‘You live with what you did, and you leave. Because if I ever see you again, I will pull the trigger.’
Swallowing, McKnight opened her mouth to reply, then thought better of it. Resigning herself to the inevitable, she turned and walked away, leaving them behind.
Chapter 62
‘SEAL teams are withdrawing to primary staging area,’ Kennedy reported, watching the real-time drone feed as the last Black Hawk chopper lifted off from the Abbottabad compound, taking with them a handful of prisoners for interrogation, a mountain of documents, cell phones, hard drives and other intel that would keep the Agency’s analysts busy for months, as well as the body of one Osama bin Mohammed bin Awad bin Laden.
Once his physical remains had been formally identified and DNA tested, confirming beyond all doubt that it was him, he would be handed over to the US Navy for burial at sea.
The compound itself and the low-value prisoners would be left for the Pakistanis to secure. Doubtless there would be fallout from the unsanctioned raid, and the unspoken implication that they’d been sheltering him, but those were concerns for tomorrow.
The president was preparing to make an official announcement, but already it had begun to leak out onto the internet. Crowds were forming outside the White House and other major buildings throughout the capital as the news spread, the entire country rousing itself in anticipation.
‘Goddamn,’ Kennedy said, shaking his head slowly. ‘I can’t believe it’s over.’
This was what it felt like not just to witness history, but to change it. The world would be a different place tomorrow, in part because of them.
‘I know,’ Franklin said quietly. He’d expected to be in a jubilant mood right now, but he couldn’t quite muster that emotion. Instead he simply felt drained, the tension and drama of tonight taking its toll on him.
So lost was he in these thoughts that he scarcely noticed his cell phone buzzing on the table in front of him. Blinking, Franklin returned to himself, picked up his phone and took the call, expecting yet another White House official, Pentagon representative, member of the National Security Council, or any of the dozen other agencies that had been calling all evening.
‘Franklin.’
His weary expression quickly changed as the news came through. ‘Excuse me, can you say that again?’
Kennedy watched as the man paled visibly, his mouth opening in shock as he listened in disbelieving silence.
‘How… how did it happen?’
Kennedy sat in tense, anxious hush as he waited for the call to end. For a sickening moment he wondered if, somehow, they’d gotten it wrong; hit the wrong compound, killed the wrong man. Perhaps everything they’d worked towards was about to be snatched away.
Ending the call, Franklin rose slowly from his chair, shaken to his core. Kennedy had never seen his boss like this before.
‘What is it?’ he asked, dreading the answer. ‘What happened?’
‘It’s Cain,’ Franklin replied, his voice leaden. ‘Director Cain’s been assassinated.’
* * *
As the news of Bin Laden’s death finally broke, and crowds around Washington and elsewhere gathered in jubilant celebration, Drake and the others sat alone on a tree-covered hilltop in Rock Creek Park, several miles north of the city.
Four people from vastly different countries and backgrounds, once united behind a common purpose, now left exhausted and broken. After the tumultuous events of the night, everything they had discovered, overcome and lost, they simply had nothing left.
‘She knew she wasn’t going to make it out,’ Frost said, her expression pensive as she stared out across the city, thinking about the friend they’d left behind. ‘She gave her life for us.’
‘She was a good woman,’ Dietrich agreed, for once abandoning his usual gruff, cold demeanour. ‘She didn’t deserve this.’
‘None of us did,’ Frost replied.
Jessica, who had been sitting beside her brother, looked up at him. ‘Anya was the one who killed our mother.’
She saw the muscles in Drake’s throat tighten. ‘Yes.’
All this time, it had been so easy to blame Cain for everything – the corrupt, evil, ruthless man, the ultimate enemy to be defeated. Now she was beginning to realise the truth was far more complex than they ever could have imagined.
He nodded, acknowledging the cold, unforgiving reality that now stared them in the face. Freya Shaw hadn’t been the ruthlessly ambitious power broker they’d first assumed, but neither had she been the virtuous hero they’d come to believe in over the past couple of weeks, unfairly persecuted and betrayed by her contemporaries.
The truth, as they were now realising, had been more complicated and less clear-cut than that. Just as it always was.
‘Fucking lies,’ Frost said bitterly. ‘All of it. Lies and betrayals and bullshit. They’re all as bad as each other, they all got what they fucking deserved. Cain, the Circle, Anya… even your mom.’
Drake felt his sister tense up, felt her start to move, but held her back with a sharp look, knowing Frost needed to get this out.
‘They spin their fucking w
ebs and screw each other over, and where does it get them? What’s the point?’ She shook her head in exasperation. ‘People like us get caught in the crossfire. People like Mitchell, Cole, Keegan…’
Her voice wavered a little as she said each name. All of them had been good people who deserved to live. All of them were dead.
‘But it’s over now,’ Jessica said. ‘Cain’s dead. The Circle’s gone. What’s left?’
Drake knew the answer to that just as well as his teammates.
‘Starke,’ he said, sighing as he closed his eyes, realising how badly they’d all been played. Richard Starke, the master manipulator. The man who had successfully played and betrayed everyone who had ever crossed his path, slowly taking down his rivals and enemies, until at last there was no one left to stand against him.
No one except the four exhausted, desperate people sitting on that hilltop.
‘He’ll rebuild the Circle,’ Drake went on, already picturing Starke’s unfettered rise to power. ‘He knows how they operated, knows everyone’s secrets. He’s plugged into everything. He’ll take over everything they once controlled. And he won’t stop until every one of us is dead.’
Silence descended on the small group as each of them played out the same terrifying scenario. One man, assuming all the power and influence once wielded by the Circle, with no one left to check his authority or question his decisions. A man who would never give up until the last remnants of his former enemies, the final people who knew his dark secrets, were eliminated.
‘Then we have to take him down,’ Jessica reasoned.
‘Yeah? With what?’ Frost asked. ‘We staked everything on tonight, and we lost. What more is there?’
For that, none of them had an answer.
* * *
‘All right, everyone. Listen up,’ Franklin began, taking in the sea of faces watching him expectantly. Many of them still held looks of shock and dismay, others confusion, some even grief. All of them were waiting for him to speak.
With the news of Cain’s death now circulating the Agency, Franklin had gathered the most senior divisional leaders and department heads into a secure conference room at Langley for an emergency briefing. Others who couldn’t be here physically were listening in on a secure line.
‘As you all know by now, we recently received word that Director Cain… Marcus Cain, our colleague and our friend, was murdered earlier this evening in an incident in central DC. We’re still getting information, so right now it’s impossible to say what exactly happened and who’s responsible.’
He saw a few people bow their heads. Whatever Franklin’s private thoughts on the man, Cain had dedicated a lifetime of service to the Agency. Many of the people in this room had worked with him for years, even decades.
‘I know many of you will be feeling grief and anger, and you’ll want to mourn him in your own way,’ he carried on. ‘Unfortunately, we’ll have to hold our thoughts of Director Cain until we can get through the present situation.’
There were a few nods from around the table.
‘In order to continue to function until the current crisis is resolved, we need a clear chain of command. So, with that in mind, effective immediately I’m assuming the role of acting director. All divisional leaders now report directly to me. We’ll be liaising closely with the FBI and other intelligence agencies, so I need situation reports from each of you within the hour. If you have subordinates that aren’t already here, bring them in, because we’re sure to need them.’
His eyes swept the room.
‘Questions?’
There were none.
‘Good. Then let’s get to work.’
As the senior executives filed out, Franklin glanced up as a single man entered like a warship cleaving through stormy waters. He was dressed in full naval uniform.
‘Director Starke,’ Franklin began, surprised by the arrival of the NSA director. ‘I wasn’t told you were coming.’
‘I know,’ Starke acknowledged. ‘I was hoping to speak with you in private.’
Kennedy, who had been acting as Franklin’s de facto chief of staff since the news of Cain’s death broke, glanced at his boss curiously. Franklin gave him a nod, knowing this was no idle request.
Packing up his gear, he left the room, closing the door behind him.
‘With all due respect, sir, I hope you understand that my time is limited tonight,’ Franklin began. The prospect of some inter-agency turf war was not something he was prepared to entertain.
‘I do,’ Starke agreed, pacing the room. ‘So I’ll get straight to the point. I know who killed Marcus Cain tonight.’
Franklin stared at him. ‘How would you know that, sir?’
‘Marcus Cain was involved in a highly classified covert operation to infiltrate and destroy rogue elements within the US intelligence community. Not just the CIA, but the military, the NSA, even branches of the government.’
‘What?’ Franklin gasped, thunderstruck.
‘The operation was so sensitive that only Director Cain, myself and a few others were fully aware of its scope and intent. Even you weren’t briefed on it,’ he added, looking up at Franklin regretfully. ‘I’m sorry we kept you in the dark, son. But we had to take every possible precaution.’
Franklin glanced away, his mind in turmoil. Was it true? Had Marcus Cain been pursuing something even bigger than the events of this evening?
‘And while the operation was successful, there were… other factors at play.’
‘What factors?’
The NSA director sighed, preparing to deliver bad news. ‘A former CIA operative named Ryan Drake, and another known by the codename Maras.’
Franklin felt his blood run cold. Surely what he was suggesting couldn’t be true?
‘Unknown to us, they were both part of this rogue cabal, and they had managed to make their way to Washington DC tonight. They laid an ambush on Director Cain, and…’ He hesitated, taking a moment to compose himself. ‘By the time our teams intervened, it was too late.’
He shook his head.
‘It was my fault, son,’ he said, filled with self-recrimination. ‘I should have seen this coming.’
Franklin rested his hands on the table, feeling like he needed the support. ‘I need you to be absolutely clear on this one, sir. You’re saying Ryan Drake and Maras assassinated Marcus Cain?’
Starke looked him in the eye hard. ‘Yes.’
Dan Franklin felt like he’d been punched in the stomach. Was it possible he’d been so utterly wrong about both Cain and Ryan? Was his former friend really part of some cabal operating within the Agency? Had Anya somehow pulled him into it?
‘Needless to say, none of what I’ve told you can leave this room,’ Starke went on. ‘If the truth gets out, it’ll destroy the US intelligence community for decades. We have to find both suspects and bring them in at all costs.’
Franklin understood his meaning well enough: dead or alive.
‘I have a lead, but I’m going to need your help.’ Starke was coming closer now, staring him down. ‘I’m sorry to dump all of this on your lap, Dan, but you’re the only man in this situation that I can trust. Can I count on your support?’
Franklin’s heart was pounding, his mind racing as he tried to sort it all out. He had felt no great love for Marcus Cain, but the man had nonetheless pulled off one of the biggest victories in the War on Terror. And if he truly was involved in something far deeper and more sinister, then his death might just have been a terrible loss for all of them.
And the revelation that Anya might have been behind it simply confirmed his worst fears about her. At the very least, the two of them needed to answer for their actions.
‘You can,’ he confirmed. ‘Whatever you need, it’s yours.’
Chapter 63
Alex was waiting at the pre-arranged rendezvous point, the tiny fishing community of Rose Haven on the shores of Chesapeake Bay. With nothing more to be done in DC, he had packed up his gear and withdra
wn here to wait for his contact.
He stood overlooking the town’s marina, watching the yachts and fishing boats bobbing gently on the swell. Not far away, he heard the sound of raucous celebration in a tavern overlooking the wharf, accompanied by horn blasts from passing cars.
Barely thirty minutes ago the president had appeared live on TV to announce the death of Osama Bin Laden. The world’s most wanted terrorist was dead, and America was celebrating.
But Alex didn’t much feel like celebrating tonight.
He looked up as a car pulled into the parking lot, and a lonely figure emerged. Alex could tell by the look on Anya’s face just how badly things had played out tonight.
‘Did they make it out?’ he asked, desperate to know if his warning had made it through.
‘Samantha just reported in. Frost and Drake escaped with her.’
Alex could feel a knot of fear in his stomach. ‘And Mitchell?’
Anya shook her head solemnly.
Letting out a breath, Alex turned away to hide his grief-stricken look. Olivia Mitchell had saved his life once, very nearly losing her own in the process. And now she was gone. Another casualty in this endless war.
‘What the hell happened tonight, Anya?’ he managed to ask.
‘I don’t know,’ she confessed. ‘How could I have been so wrong?’
‘About Cain?’
‘About everything. Cain, Freya, the Circle… even Starke. They used me and lied to me, and I walked into it every time.’ The woman rested her hands on the metal railing at the edge of the marina, lowered her head and gripped it tight. ‘All that time wasted. My own life was the biggest lie of all.’
Alex sighed. He had more bad news to deliver, but was reluctant to burden her with more concerns. Not now, when she had been through so much already.
