Shadow Soldier

by Dana Marton

  A garden. Dark. The streetlights didn’t reach this far. He surveyed his surroundings while he listened. No sound in the night air gave him any clues or aroused his suspicions.

  He kept an eye on the bushes and moved toward what seemed to be a courtyard ahead. He ran around the wall in a crouch and tried the first door he came to. Open. He didn’t like it. He crept forward inch by inch and found himself in a long hallway. Still no sound. His entrance didn’t set off any alarms.

  He’d walked through the first few rooms in eerie silence when the sound of feet on gravel drew his attention. He stepped to the window, his back flat to the wall, and peered outside just in time to see the SWAT team fan out in the yard. If he had waited for them, they would have given him a radio for communications. As it was, he would have to make sure they didn’t take him out by accident.

  He caught the slightest sound of a door opening and walked out of the room to check the hallway. The door stood open—nobody was there. Then a shadow blocked the light as someone slipped through.

  Alex stepped into plain sight and signaled to the man. The agent waited until his partner came in to cover his back, then walked over.

  “Already checked all the rooms on the right of the hallway. They’re empty. I’m going upstairs,” he told the man.

  The guy nodded and repeated the information into his radio for the rest of his team before moving toward the rooms on the left.

  Alex crept up the staircase. Nobody in the upstairs hallway. His sense of foreboding grew. If Nicola were still there, the place would have been guarded. Unless, of course, it was a trap.

  He tried the first door. An empty room. The second. Same.

  Had Nicola been held here? If so, the rooms kept their secrets, all signs of occupants cleaned, the beds made.

  He cleared three more rooms before he saw another member of the SWAT team coming up the stairs. The man had a radio for him. Alex fitted it into his ear, picking up short directions from the FBI agents on the property.

  “Garden cleared.” He heard a man say in a low voice.

  “Garage cleared,” said another.

  “I’ve got something in the basement.”

  “Which way?” Alex spoke into his radio.

  “Last door at the end of the hall as you come in the back.”

  He made his way swiftly through the house and found the right door within minutes. Two members of the SWAT team were already there, examining a small bare room.

  “Looks like somebody took the window out.” One of the men pointed.

  He looked around the room, but other than the glassless window, could see nothing. Not even broken glass on the floor. Somebody had done a good job of cleaning up. “I’m going outside.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  He trotted up the stairs, not as careful about keeping silent as before. He was fairly sure they weren’t going to find anyone here.

  He spotted the window easily and crouched in front of it. Someone had done a thorough job of removing most of the glass.

  “Anything there, sir?” one of the men asked from inside.

  He looked at the pavers of the front yard, swept clean. Glass glistened in the cracks. “Not much.” Looked like the window had been broken from the inside.

  Had they kept Nicola in the basement? Had she escaped? As much as he wanted to hold on to that glimmer of hope, the odds were overwhelmingly against it. If she had escaped, she would have gotten in touch with her father or the police by now.

  But at the very least it looked as if she had tried to escape. The woman was a piece of work. Had to respect someone like that. She never gave up, did she? He hoped she could hang on a little longer. Come hell or high water, he was coming to get her.

  “Sir, I found this in one of the garbage cans by the curb.” An agent dragged a black plastic bag toward him and when he nodded, dumped the contents at his feet.

  He recognized Nicola’s shorts and tank top immediately. And then he caught sight of the bra. Soiled with blood.

  The courtyard swam around him as cold rage filled his body until he thought he would explode with it. What had the bastards done to her?

  He walked out into the garden where he had come in, and sank against the wall, leaving it to the agents to finish the search. He clipped his phone off his belt and set it to the right channel.

  “Nicola?” What the hell could he say to her that would make any difference? What right did he have to tell her everything was going to be all right, with him standing here safe and sound while she—

  He couldn’t bear to think of it.

  He’d kill them—anyone who had anything to do with this. Rage filled the gaping hole in his chest, the place from where his heart had gotten ripped out. Nicola was his heart, he realized with sudden clarity. And she was hurt because he had left her. That wasn’t supposed to happen.

  And he wasn’t supposed to fall in love with her.

  He had wanted her from the moment he’d first seen her, but during the last couple of days they’d spent together, the attraction had turned into something more with dizzying speed. He admired her courage, her compassion, her frankness. She could handle just about anything that came her way. He prayed she’d be able to handle this.

  “Listen, querida, whatever they did to you, you’re going to come through it. Hang on. I’m almost there.” It looked as if they had only missed the General and his men by an hour or two, tops. He was close on their heels.

  “No matter what they do, they can’t touch your spirit. They can’t change who you are, Nicola. You have to focus on that, what’s inside. You are strong. Don’t give up. I know it’s hard, but I know you’re brave. Just hang in there a little longer. It won’t be long now.”

  And when he got there, he was going to shoot every one of those sons of bitches who had touched her. Then he would love her until she healed, plus another sixty to seventy years after that.

  THE GENERAL LOOKED at Nicola’s sleeping figure and for a moment he could see his daughter in her, the way things should have been. And for that split moment he wavered.

  Chen followed his gaze. “Does she know?”

  The General shook his head, his resolve back in place as strongly as ever. “I don’t want her to struggle. It’s better if she thinks there’s a chance for her to walk away from this. I’ll tell her what I’ll tell the guard, that we have the bomb only to guarantee that we can get into the hearing and make our case for China.”

  Chen nodded. “And when we’re in?”

  “I push the button.” And release the biological agent that would kill everyone in the room. Never had the U.S. seen a terrorist attack of that magnitude against high-level politicians. It would cripple the government. It would have to be responded to. American troops would be sent to China, the communist government toppled.

  He would bring this about. This and more—the death of the man who had betrayed him and was responsible for what had happened to his wife and Mei. Today he would save his country and triumph over Barrington, his personal enemy.

  He had waited for this day for a long time, had planned it in detail, between the endless periods of torture he’d suffered in prison. And now his time has come.

  THE DOOR OPENED, and the sound startled Nicola. She hadn’t even realized she’d fallen asleep. Alex had been talking to her on and off throughout the early morning. His voice was the only thing that kept her going, kept her from giving in to panic. His words had built an invisible shield that kept the outside world from getting to her. She could handle anything as long as she had that connection with Alex.

  For the past couple of hours, she’d been forced to wait with the General for the rest of the “cleaning crew” to make their regular rounds. Everything had to look right on the security cameras.

  One of the soldiers came in, parked his cart and reported on the position of security and the number of guards in the building, then left.

  “Good.” The General turned to Nicola. “I tell you what happens next so you
won’t make mistake. You very careful not to do that. Remember this?” He pulled the remote from his pocket.

  How could she forget? Nicola nodded.

  “We wait until the Senate hearing starts. Chen will spill five-gallon container cleaning liquid in front of the door. We walk by and stop to help clean up. One guard stands at the door. We use you to get in.”

  “They’ll never let you into a roomful of senators, even if you had a hundred hostages. The U.S. doesn’t negotiate.”

  If she had hoped to talk sense into him, she had failed. He went on as if he hadn’t heard her.

  “If he gives us trouble we shoot him. Not first choice. Shooting will bring many security too soon. When we are inside the room, rest of my men move into place and make sure nobody comes in until we finish.” The General looked at his watch. “In few minutes the Sons of Peace will be China’s newest heroes. Your name on the morning news all over the country. Neither of us ever forgotten.”

  Goose bumps covered Nicola’s arms at the man’s words. A mad light shone in his eyes, his conviction fueled by insanity. Despite the fact that he held her life, literally, in his hand, she could not hate the man, only pity him.

  They waited another twenty minutes before the time came to go. The General grabbed a cleaning cart and pushed another toward Nicola. “Take it.”

  She did so without argument, eyeing the mop.

  He exited the room as if he had every right to be where he was and walked down the hall with the push cart as if he’d done it every day of his life. She followed, keeping her eyes open for any opportunity. Might not be many of those, if any at all. They were getting close to the grand finale. She passed a conference room and caught their reflection mirrored in the glass—two ordinary custodians in identical uniforms, plodding down the hall in no particular hurry.

  She made a point of paying attention to every door, every exit sign as they passed. She looked at each security camera as they got to it. Keeping her hands on the cart, she stuck out her thumb and index finger making the sign of a gun. Couldn’t do more than that with the General a few feet ahead of her, but she hoped the gesture would catch someone’s eye.

  “COLONEL SAYS you had a busy night,” Thompson joked over the phone. He had joined the SDDU right when it started, at the same time as Alex, so they’d gotten to know each other during the initial training.

  “Busy but unproductive.” Alex skimmed through the reports he had gotten from Sylvia, a folder full of intelligence on the Sons of Peace. They were an odd lot with a single common denominator—none of them had anything to lose. “What’s up? Anything new on the Hill?”

  “Not sure. I’ve been going through the security tapes this morning, checking up on the overnight footage just in case. It appears someone fitting Nicola Barrington’s description entered the Capitol Building at 12:38 with the cleaning crew. Hard to tell, the security video is pretty grainy. I had Senator Barrington view it. He’s ninety percent sure it’s his daughter.”

  Alex tossed the reports on the desk as adrenaline shot through his body. “Only ninety?”

  “He hasn’t seen her in the last couple of years.”

  Busy man. He’d sacrificed an awful lot for his country— Then the pieces fell into place all of a sudden, and it all made sense.

  “I’m on my way.” He grabbed his bag of tricks and headed out the door. He had come back to his temporary room on the army base to go over the paperwork Sylvia had given him, and to maybe catch a brief nap. When action broke, he wanted to be fully functional and ready. “Does the Colonel know?”

  “Yeah. Called him first but he was over at the DHS in a meeting with the Homeland Security Secretary. Those two spend more time together than honeymooners. Something big is going down somewhere.”

  “There’s always something big going down somewhere in the world.” But at the moment he wished no part of it. All he wanted was Nicola safe. His instincts said they had something bigger than a simple kidnapping. Bigger even than whatever international operation the Secretary and the Colonel were working on. “What did the Colonel say?”

  “Not enough of us to go around. He’s calling in the FBI. I already put the Capitol Hill Police on alert.”

  “Where is the senator?”

  “He just left for a joint hearing. He’s got his security detail with him. I’m about to go over there myself.”

  “Get him to a secure location immediately. Seal the building, double security. I’ll be there in fifteen minutes. If you see the woman on the security cameras, keep track of where she is but do not approach her or anyone with her until I get there.”

  “You think this is it?”

  “Yeah, and it’s going to be worse than we expected. If all General Meng wanted was to take out Senator Barrington and his daughter, he could have killed the daughter by now and gone after Barrington in his car or in his home. The senator has good security, but not nearly as good as the Capitol does.”

  “They want the whole Congress,” Thompson said in a stunned voice.

  “Or as many senators and representatives as they can get. Meng is not just avenging his family. That’s just the icing on the cake. He’s planning a major terrorist attack on the U.S. government.”

  “Oh, hell.”

  “Make sure you clear whatever room Barrington was supposed to be in this morning.”

  He ended the call and dialed the Colonel next to update him on the developing situation. They were going to need a lot more than the FBI. He wanted the National Guard and the capital area National Emergency Response Team. Plus the Marine Corp’s Chemical Biological Incident Response Force on standby, just in case.

  He drove like a madman, planning as he went. He’d been an idiot to think that caring for Nicola would make him weaker. Hell, loving her was what gave him strength. He’d take the Capitol apart stone by stone to get to her.

  NICOLA WATCHED a CHP officer walk down the hall toward them. She held her breath. Had he seen her on the video? She tried to catch his eye, but the man walked on without looking at them. She turned, unable to believe he would stroll by without giving her a chance to do something to grab his attention.

  He stopped and put his finger to his headset, then looked at them, straight at Nicola as he said something into the mouthpiece. She was too far to hear his words, but the intent look in his eyes gave her hope.

  She nodded her head slightly. The man turned and continued on his way without giving her any sign of having seen it.

  So much for that. He’d probably been just staring off into space while listening to whoever was talking into his ear. She’d had an opportunity and missed it, had no idea what to do with it. What if she had lifted her top so he could see the bomb? Could she have done it without the General noticing? She needed a plan so when they came across the next person, she would be ready.

  The opportunity came faster than she had expected. They came to the end of the hallway, to a door flanked by two officers. Chen was on his knees in front of them, cleaning up a neon-green puddle.

  The General stopped.

  She looked at the officers, trying to warn them, trying to think of something to do or say that would give them a chance, to save them somehow without having the General blow her up. Her hands shook, her mind frozen with fear.

  The General pulled his gun and in one smooth motion had it at her temple. “I want to go in,” he said, his voice as calm and friendly as if he had brought lunch for them instead of death and destruction.

  The officers drew their weapons simultaneously and so did Chen.

  “Daughter of Senator Barrington.” The General poked her with his gun. “I want little time. Thirty minutes to make case for my country. Nobody gets hurt.”

  “Drop your weapons.” One of the officers stepped closer.

  The General shook his head. “We go in or Miss Barrington dies.”

  Maybe she should tell them they had a bomb. She glanced at the General, his left hand in his pocket. Would he blow the bomb right here? />
  The second officer was moving toward Chen. Second officer. Nicola stared him. When General Meng’s man had come into the cleaning room a while ago he had said there was one man in front of the room. Since then, someone had doubled the guard. Why? Were they expecting them? Had they set a trap?

  “I will count to five,” the General said. “If you don’t move from door, I shoot.”

  The officers glanced at each other.

  The General smiled. “One, two, three, four, f—”

  The younger man stepped out of the way and shoved the door open.

  It was easy, too easy, she thought, but then her heart sank at the sight inside. No SWAT team, no special commando, just a roomful of men and women in the middle of a Senate hearing.

  Nobody noticed their entry, the room’s attention focused on the speaker at the front. Since they came in at the back, most of the thirty or so senators sat with their backs to them.

  The General pulled the remote from his pocket and flicked a switch, and she squeezed her eyes shut, expecting to be dead the next moment.

  She heard him speak instead. “I armed the bomb now. When I lift my finger from this button it blows.”

  She was hyperventilating as she opened her eyes and prayed the man didn’t have twitchy fingers. She hadn’t thought things could get worse than having a bomb strapped to her chest with the remote in a madman’s hand, but she had underestimated the General. Now that he had activated the pressure trigger, her fate was sealed. If the man succeeded and blew the bomb she would die. If Secret Service had set some kind of trap and managed to take him out, when he let go of the remote, she would die…with too many things left unsaid. She searched the room for her father.

  “Ladies and gentlemen.” The General spoke loud enough for his voice to carry in the room.