Betrayal (Julian Mercer Book 2)

by G. K. Parks

  “Jules, I don’t like this,” Donovan warned.

  “We have no choice. Focus your energy on Bastian and Hans.” Mercer licked his lips and settled onto the couch. “Any updates?”

  Donovan had maintained radio silence since the last time they spoke. Mercer didn’t even hear background noise or static, so he suspected that Donovan had silenced his microphone.

  “They’ve been taken into police custody. They’re being held in separate interrogation rooms. I can’t get near them, but the police are pissed. Hans and Bastian haven’t said a word which is frustrating the shit out of the coppers.”

  “Okay.”

  “Should I contact a solicitor or the embassy?” Donovan asked.

  “Wait and see. Trila’s likely to intervene. It depends on what they do.” Mercer thought about Bastian’s words concerning George Browne. “If it becomes necessary, do whatever it takes to get them out.”

  “First, we plan a heist. Now, you want to orchestrate a prison break. What’s next? Overthrowing the government?”

  “No, but killing Alpha has crossed my mind.” Julian ran his fingers against the handle of his gun. Turning around, he made sure that Logan was out of earshot before asking, “When do you think he plans to clean up his mess?”

  “He has to make sure you deliver the protocols. He won’t risk killing her before the package is in his possession. That’ll give you a small window to get her and get out.” Donovan exhaled. “You need me on-site.”

  “There’s no guarantee he’ll bring her to the exchange. Honestly, it’d be stupid if he did.”

  “You can’t be in two places at once, mate.” Donovan paused, thinking of their options. “I don’t suppose you could convince him to make the exchange at one of the locations we’ve scouted for our use.”

  “Negative. I barely got him to agree to meet in a public place. Trila’s data is on my cell phone. Bastian has a GPS tracker built-in. Can you monitor it from your location?”

  “Aye.”

  “Okay, worst case, follow him. And hopefully, he’ll lead you to Sarina.”

  “I don’t like the timeframe.”

  “If need be, make it work.”

  “No one knows Alpha’s true identity. Do you believe he’ll risk showing up to make the exchange himself?”

  “Not unless he plans to kill me on-site, and that’s what I’m counting on.”

  “Commander, take him down.”

  “I intend to.”

  Twenty-nine

  “I’m supposed to wait here?” Logan asked. His wide-eyed look took in the entirety of the safe house. “What if he calls while you’re gone?”

  “The calls are routed to my phone. Stay here. Don’t answer the door or the phone. Don’t leave. Don’t do anything,” Mercer instructed. He patted his pockets, feeling the weight of the cell phone in his breast pocket. He had another burner cell in his pants pocket. His Sig rested on his hip, and a back-up was tucked inside an ankle holster beneath his pant leg. “I should be back shortly. However, if a wrinkle develops, Donovan will take control of the situation.”

  “Who the hell is Donovan?” Logan asked.

  Mercer rolled his eyes. “Follow my instructions. The next few hours are crucial. Do not cause problems.”

  Logan nodded. He took a seat on the couch, like a wayward child attempting to behave. “Please bring her home.”

  “I will.”

  Pulling the door closed behind him, Mercer made sure it was locked and stuck the key in the top corner of the doorframe. Leaving anything on his person that would jeopardize Logan or his team was unacceptable. Their safe house would not be compromised in the event Alpha searched him.

  The sun had just broken over the horizon, and it looked like today would be sunny and clear. It was perfect weather for a sniper. Dismissing the thought, Mercer climbed behind the wheel of a plain white sedan. The license plate had been switched with another vehicle to complicate matters. There was no such thing as being too careful.

  “En route,” Mercer said, knowing Donovan was listening. “You have the address and the pertinent information regarding Logan Porter and our safe house location. The key’s above the door.”

  Donovan grunted, hating how the commander often went over contingencies based on his demise. It was downright morbid. “He agreed to your meeting spot. Fancy that.”

  “It’s a good location.”

  “For whom?” Donovan retorted.

  “That’s to be determined.”

  Mercer took a moment to breathe. The adrenaline started to flow, and he felt the euphoria that came before every exchange. He identified it as hope. Anything could happen. A resolution was within reach. It could be peaceful, without the need for violence or cruelty. Alpha could simply hand over Sarina without comment as soon as the phone was within his grasp. It’d be nice, but Mercer knew how unlikely that was under these circumstances. He knew things would get messy, and the darker side of him enjoyed the danger and how it drew out the survival instinct. To the victor, goes the spoils, he thought. The truth was he felt alive when he was in the field. It was one of the rare occasions that his mind didn’t continue to dwell on his own internal pain. It freed him, ever so briefly, from his torment.

  “Are you positive that Alpha didn’t change the location?” Donovan asked.

  “He left the terms in place,” Mercer replied.

  “There has to be a reason.” Donovan pondered that for a few moments but failed to come up with a theory.

  “It’s of no concern.” Mercer turned onto the side street, watching the road ahead for danger. After spotting the large sign for the diner, he saw a black SUV parked at the side of the building. “I have to lose the comm.”

  “Godspeed,” Donovan said.

  Mercer disconnected, removing the earbud and placing it inside the cup holder. Slowly, he pulled into the parking lot, leaving a fair distance between his vehicle and the SUV. The truck’s windows were blacked out, making it impossible to determine who was inside. Mercer removed his handgun from his hip, holding it next to his thigh while he opened the car door and stepped into the morning sun. Keeping the vehicle between him and the SUV, Mercer waited to see what the driver of the SUV would do.

  The SUV’s occupant followed suit, cautiously opening the door. “Mercer,” a man asked, “do you have it?”

  “That depends,” Mercer responded, studying every aspect of the SUV and what little he could see of the man over the truck’s roof. “Is Sarina safe?”

  “See for yourself.” The boot of the SUV opened, sending the rear windshield skyward.

  “Bollocks,” Mercer quietly cursed, realizing he’d have to expose himself and enter the kill box — the open area between his vehicle and the rear of the SUV. There was no cover and no excuse not to comply.

  Staying close to the car for as long as possible, Mercer gave a wide berth to the SUV while his eyes continuously swept the area. It was imperative that he maintain a visual on the SUV’s driver, but he didn’t want to encounter any other surprises. The man laughed and strode to the rear of the SUV, coming to stand ten feet from Mercer. He was dressed in a suit similar to Mercer’s, but he wore large aviator sunglasses and spoke through a voice modulator to disguise his identity.

  “Open your jacket,” the kidnapper instructed. Mercer obliged, holding one side open with his free hand. “Are you wired?”

  “No.”

  “But you are armed.” The man chuckled, nodding at the gun in Mercer’s hand. “Is this how you typically arrive at an exchange?”

  “You didn’t dictate those terms,” Mercer said, forcing his voice to remain neutral. However, he reluctantly holstered his gun and focused on the vehicle before him. From his current angle, Mercer could see a woman bound and gagged inside the trunk. “Is she alive?” Her face was obscured by a mess of blonde hair, and she wasn’t moving.

  “I gave her a sedative. Her fate is yet to be determined.” The kidnapper smirked. “The rest depends on you. I held up my end
. It’s time you show me the item.”

  “It’s inside my jacket pocket,” Mercer said.

  Slowly, he reached inside and removed the device. He kept his eyes trained on Sarina, watching for the slightest movement to indicate she was breathing. Unfortunately, escaping with an unconscious woman would be difficult given the SUV and the distance between the two vehicles.

  “Excellent,” the man held out his hand, and Mercer caught sight of a nine millimeter in a shoulder holster, “I’ll take that.”

  “No.” Mercer kept his grip firm and stood his ground. “This is unacceptable. She’s not in any condition to travel. How do I know you didn’t poison her?”

  “You don’t.” The words turned cold and authoritarian. “Hand over the protocols or I’ll kill her.” The man removed the gun and pointed it at her skull.

  Without hesitating, Mercer removed his Sig and trained it on the kidnapper. “I’d reconsider.”

  “What’s to stop me from shooting her, shooting you, and taking that phone from you?”

  “Are you sure this is what you want?” Mercer asked. “It could be nothing more than a bloody cellular phone. Why don’t you pull the trigger and find out?”

  The man considered it for an agonizing moment. “Show me the protocols. Now. Or I start shooting.”

  Mercer watched him for a moment, believing that Alpha would follow through on the threat. “They’re encrypted. I’ll give you the device, and you let me walk away with Sarina. Once we’re clear, I’ll give you the password to break the encryption. If you harm her, you’ll never crack the code. If you kill me, you get nothing.”

  “Bravo,” the man snarled, “you think you’ve come up with a foolproof plan.” He holstered his gun and held out his hand. “The device.” Mercer handed it over, and the man stepped back, gesturing toward his captive. “Take her.”

  Having to carry Sarina would leave the two of them defenseless, but Alpha had given him no choice. Scooping Sarina into his arms, Mercer carried her toward the car. He slung her over his shoulder and opened the passenger’s side door, laying the seat flat to safeguard her against gunfire. Then he shut the door, turning around to find Alpha had his gun trained on him.

  “What’s the password?” the man asked. The phone was locked, and Mercer rattled off the four digit code that would allow the kidnapper to open the downloaded file. After inputting the code, the man scowled. “Now, how do I break the encryption?”

  “You’ll need a computer,” Mercer said, hoping to provide enough of a distraction to neutralize Alpha or get into the car and drive away.

  “It’s a shame you aren’t as smart as you think.” The man signaled someone, but Mercer couldn’t afford to turn. He needed an immediate escape route. “Your weapon and your back-up,” the man barked, but Mercer didn’t move, “I want them now.” He smiled. “And don’t try anything or Sarina’s dead.”

  “I don’t think so,” Mercer said, calculating his options. He pulled his gun, firing on Alpha. The kidnapper dove behind the SUV, and Mercer slid across the hood of the car. He opened the door, but before he could get inside, something shot through him, reducing him to a heap on the pavement.

  Thirty

  The taste of blood was unpleasant, and Mercer spit on the man who had just punched him. He’d woken up in worse situations, but for some reason, none of those incidents would come to mind. Working his jaw, Mercer studied his surroundings. The room was dimly lit with a concrete floor, painted cinderblock walls, and a damp mustiness to the air. A single staircase stood in the far corner of the room. It was unfinished with slat stairs made of wood and metal. Mercer wagered he was in a basement, but frankly, he could be anywhere in the world.

  The man that had thrown the punch stepped back and removed his jacket. He wore a typical dark colored suit, reminiscent of a bodyguard. Stretching his arms and back, he looked down at the saliva and blood that covered his otherwise perfectly polished dress shoe.

  “Animal,” he mumbled in a deeply accented voice. He stared at Mercer. “Where are the protocols?”

  Mercer laughed, an amused, sardonic sound that caused the hitter to pause before delivering another blow. “You should have killed me.”

  “Don’t worry, friend, that will happen soon enough,” the hitter responded loudly, making his accent strong and discernible. Despite the fact that the man wore a mask over his face, his pale blue eyes and blond hair were easily noticeable beneath the black mask.

  Mercer focused on the indicators, deciding that the man was likely of Scandinavian descent. Filing that thought away in case it proved useful later on, the only thing Mercer knew for certain was that the man who he’d spoken to at the exchange was not the same person currently using his face as a punching bag.

  “Your boss needs me alive,” Mercer said. “Shall you fetch him so we may continue the negotiation?”

  The man hit Mercer again, hard enough that Mercer’s entire body shifted to the right, pulling against the manacles that bound him to a support pillar in the center of the room. However, the assault didn’t stop. The hitter shifted his stance and style, pummeling Mercer’s torso utilizing the training and fighting style of the Jægerkorpset, the Danish equivalent of the SAS. Eventually, Mercer’s stubbornness proved to be no match for the physical abuse, and he sagged, dropping to his knees while the metal of the restraints scraped loudly against the pillar.

  The Dane snorted. “You are nothing like your reputation.”

  Mercer lifted his face to stare at the man. It was best that Alpha and his team of mercenaries underestimated Mercer’s capabilities. “I want to speak to Alpha.”

  “Omega,” the familiar computer modulated voice said from somewhere behind Mercer, “you’re dismissed.”

  The Dane nodded, marching to the stairs and disappearing from sight. Mercer concentrated on the sound of locks being turned and the slam of the door before he struggled to maneuver around to face the kidnapper. The sudden movement made him dizzy, and he took a moment to assess his injuries. Somehow, by being woken so violently, he’d forgotten how he arrived in this predicament.

  “Where’s Sarina?” Mercer rasped.

  “You needn’t worry about her,” Alpha responded, stepping around the pillar. “You should be more concerned about your own well-being.”

  “You can’t break the encryption.”

  “I already have.”

  “Then kill me.” Mercer stared at the man who still wore dark aviator glasses, even in the dim light. Hoisting himself to his feet, Mercer stood, noting the suit and the scent of expensive cologne. He narrowed his eyes. The wheels were turning, but he couldn’t make sense of the observations. “Do it.”

  “Don’t think I won’t.” But it was a hollow threat, and both men knew it. Instead, Alpha circled around Mercer, a decent technique that obscured him from view seventy percent of the time. “I’ve seen the news. Your men are in custody. You are alone. This doesn’t need to be unpleasant.”

  “Then hold up your end of the agreement.” Sarina might be dead, or she could be unconscious outside the diner. There was no way of knowing, but placing too much emphasis on her safety would lead Alpha to use her as a way to break Mercer. On the plus side, Mercer had no idea how to break the encryption, and even if he could, the protocols weren’t contained on the cell phone. “Release us and I’ll give you the information,” he bluffed.

  “Stop lying,” Alpha screamed, his real voice overpowering the modulator. He removed the cell phone from his pocket and held it in front of Mercer’s face. “This is shit. Where are the protocols?” He threw the cell phone against the wall. The glass cracked, and the battery and exterior case broke free. “I am not a fool. You stole the protocols, but you didn’t bring them to the exchange. Where are they?”

  “Release Sarina,” Mercer ordered.

  Alpha disappeared from sight, and a terrified whimper sounded from the back of the room. Mercer pulled against the chains, helplessly watching Alpha drag a dazed and semiconscious Sarina Porter
into the center of the room by her hair. Alpha removed the gun from his hip and held it against her skull. “Answer me.”

  “It’s game over if you kill her.” Mercer’s heart beat like a drum, but he held firm, forcing the calm exterior to remain in place.

  “Where is it?” Alpha asked again. The desperation was becoming more apparent by the second.

  “Let her go.”

  “Omega will break you. It’s just a matter of time. But this should certainly be faster.” Alpha flipped the safety off and cocked the gun. “You have five seconds.”

  “She goes free. That’s the only way.” Mercer hoped that this fact would sink in, but Alpha continued to count down.

  “One,” he stared at Mercer, pulling the trigger. Mercer didn’t breathe. The gun clicked ineffectually, and Alpha smiled. “She matters to you. Next time, this will be loaded. I’m not playing a game. Consider your options, and when I return, I expect to know the location of the protocols. You went inside Trila and stole them. Now, I want them.”

  Alpha strode across the room and up the stairs. The door slammed shut, and Mercer sunk to his knees, his bound arms keeping him from falling face first to the floor. His heart raced, and he saw static bursts behind his eyelids.

  “Sarina,” he breathed, gasping at the sudden pain that he hadn’t felt until now. “Mrs. Porter,” he tried again. “Bloody fucking hell.”

  Uncomfortably shifting off his knees, so that he could lean back against the pillar, he knew he had a few broken ribs which were making it difficult to breathe. His shoulder was sore due to the bindings, and there was a pain in the back of his neck that burned and stung. They either drugged or tasered him before he could get inside the car. More than likely, Omega, the Dane, had been at the exchange, but Mercer missed him due to his preoccupation with rescuing Sarina. Dammit, Donovan had been right. He needed back-up support at the meet.

  “Sarina,” Mercer hissed louder this time, “look at me.”

  The woman groaned, barely stirring from her spot in the center of the room.