by C. G. Cooper
“Okay,” I said. “Here’s what I’m gonna need.”
+++
“Sure. Yeah, that shouldn’t be a problem.”
Julian Fog chewed on a toothpick as he listened to Rex Hazard and then hung up the phone. He’d worked for Hazard in the Corps as a Corporal. It was (then) Lieutenant Hazard, just reporting in to S-2, who’d asked the battalion commander for one last chance with the corporal who was about to get busted back to PFC. The battalion commander had granted Hazard his request, with the caveat that should Corporal Fog stray once more off the hallowed path set by centuries of Marines, it would be Lt. Hazard who would share the blame.
Corporal Fog had enjoyed his first four years as a Marine, but after being involuntarily extended three times, his patience for the Corps had ended. He was bitter and wanted out. But that didn’t mean he was stupid. Luckily, the new lieutenant seemed to grasp Fog’s predicament. He’d basically told Fog, “You take care of me, and I’ll take care of you.”
And so they’d become inseparable. Both men were bachelors, and the only thing either of them had was time. Cpl. Fog taught Lt. Hazard what he knew about Marine intelligence, much of which wasn’t taught in formal Marine Corps intelligence schools. In return, Lt. Hazard started the frustrating process of dealing with the twisted chain of Marine Corps bureaucracy, with the chief aim of helping Cpl. Fog out of the Corps.
With his extensive field experience and high intellect, Cpl. Fog was the perfect teacher. Lt. Hazard listened and learned. Pretty soon every company commander was coming to Hazard instead of the captain who ran the S-2 shop. Hazard never took the credit, always focused on supporting the companies and platoons. Fog appreciated that and even got swept up in his lieutenant’s wake.
One month after their first deployment together (Fog’s ninth), Lt. Hazard walked into Cpl. Fog’s barracks with a grave look. Fog’s stomach dropped. He knew it without being told. He was being extended again.
“Sir, before you say anything, I know how much you’ve tried—”
Hazard silenced him with an upraised hand. Not just an upraised hand, an upraised hand holding a single sheet of paper. When Fog’s eyes looked back up to the lieutenant’s face, Hazard’s eyes were bright.
“It’s official, Marine, the Corps no longer wants a free-loading shitbird like you,” Hazard said, trying his best not to smile. “You are to report to S-1 to begin out-processing no later than zero eight hundred tomorrow.”
“But how did you—”
Hazard stopped him again.
“I am not finished, Corporal Shitbird. Thanks to the skills I have acquired from watching you, you will find in this folder,” he produced a manila folder from behind his back, “a handsomely written recommendation letter, endorsed by myself and the battalion commander.”
“Sir, you didn’t have to—”
Hazard waved his hand for silence, his face twisted in mock indignation.
“Furthermore, Corporal Shitbird, in said folder you will find the contact information for the man in the Crazy Idiots Agency, which you may know as the CIA, who I am told is looking for shitbirds like you to fill many holes in their ever-leaky bucket.”
It was exactly what Fog had wanted. He hadn’t known that Hazard was doing it. It was one Marine helping another. A final gesture of friendship from a real leader.
“Thank you, sir,” was all he could say.
Hazard’s face had softened, and he’d replied, “You’ve earned it, Fog.”
Julian Fog smiled as he remembered that pivotal moment. He’d gone on to get a job with the CIA, and over the next few years, went from admin to analyst, and now to operative. It hadn’t been easy, and not always fun, but every step had prepared him for his current position. Luckily for his old boss, Fog’s only focus was threats within the Continental U.S. And the favor Hazard had asked for was as easy as flipping off a switch.
Fog got up from his seat, grabbed the file he’d compiled on Georgy Varushkin, and headed for the door. It would be good to see Hazard again. It would be that much sweeter if it meant cracking into something no other department had yet accomplished: a look into the inner workings of The Pension.
Chapter 25
Rex picked us up just as the sun was setting over the crowded skyline. Pastor Walker didn’t say a word as he scooted into the middle seat, sandwiched between me and one of Rex’s guys. The man’s gun sat on his lap, and I saw Walker keep glancing at it like it might go off at any minute.
“Been in town long?” Rex asked from the front passenger seat. He’d turned to face me. The damned guy looked just the same except he now wore his former high and tight in a low regulation cut. Cuss like a sailor, but look like a pro. That was Rex.
I wondered what I looked like to him.
“Not long,” I answered.
He nodded, but waited ten minutes until we were tucked away in a two room apartment to continue the conversation. The place smelled like grilled cheese and varnish.
Rex’s men went about their business as he ushered the pastor and me into the kitchen.
“Want anything to eat?” he asked, already rooting around in the fridge for something. He pulled out a half-eaten sandwich and took a bite.
“We’re good,” I said, anxious to get moving. The clock in my head kept ticking, and something told me that Anna’s time was short. I had to get there soon.
Some kid who looked like he’d just left Mommy and Daddy for college came into the kitchen. He handed me a black canvas bag that was heavier than it looked. I set it down on the Formica counter and unzipped it. Inside were the weapons I’d asked for, all untraceable according to Rex.
There were two AR-15s with extra magazines, enough to fend off a modest attack. He’d also included a pair of Taurus knockoffs, pistols that anyone in non-gun controlled America could pick up for a couple hundred bucks. They were relatively simple weapons, no fancy sights or rail mounted flashlights. If things went bad, I didn’t want the authorities to see it for anything other than a break-in gone wrong.
The last weapon was an arm’s length machete in an olive drab sheath. Both ends of the sheath had rectangular metal rings with a strap looped through. I adjusted the loops and tied it on with the sheath tight across my back, the strap running down diagonally from my right shoulder. I unsheathed it a couple times to make sure it wouldn’t stick. It didn’t. Fluid and easy.
“You planning on hacking your way through the jungle?” Rex asked wryly. Pastor Walker looked like he wanted to throw up.
I shrugged and went back to checking the other weapons. Everything looked serviceable.
“You’ll probably want these too,” Rex said, tossing me a pair of black tactical gloves.
I nodded my thanks and tried them on. Perfect fit. I wasn’t planning on leaving any evidence behind, and there was no reason not to be thorough.
“What’s the latest from the objective?” I asked, working the actions on one of the pistols to make sure the gloves didn’t get in the way.
“Finish what you’re doing and I’ll show you,” Rex said, tossing the sandwich wrapper in the trash. “Fucking Russians have been in and out all afternoon. You sure picked a helluva time to run into that hornet’s nest.”
I didn’t reply, just followed him from the kitchen.
His team had set up their surveillance equipment in a bedroom, pushing the bed over on its side and sliding it up against the wall. Rex introduced me to his guys, but I was too focused on the screen of the closest laptop to be very conversational. Wherever they’d mounted the camera gave us a perfect view in through the second floor windows. There, as clear as if we were watching from across the street, was Anna. Her head was moving like she was talking, but whoever she was talking to was off to the side.
I heard Pastor Walker’s sharp inhale when he realized who was on the screen.
“Is this live? Is she okay?” he stammered, grabbing the sides of the laptop.
“As far as we can tell, she’s fine,” Rex said, motioning for t
he guy at the laptop to move to the side.
“But how do you know? Have they hurt her? Is she in danger?” Walker asked, his former bout of courage crumbling.
“They don’t know,” I said, pulling him back from the computer. “Listen to me. If you don’t pull it together, Anna’s chances are shot.”
That got his attention. Honestly, it wasn’t the truth, but the tears in his eyes told me that he needed a come-to-Jesus.
“What do you want me to do?” he asked.
“I need you to help me get in there,” I said, pointing at the monitor.
He glanced at the screen and then back at me.
“What do you mean? I can’t—”
That’s when I slapped him, hard. I couldn’t help it. Everyone in the room stopped as Walker’s hand pressed against his cheek.
“That’s the last time I hear you say you can’t do something, you got me?” He nodded, his eyes wide like a wounded animal. “That girl needs our help. Your daughter needs you. Now, I suggest you say a little prayer to that God you’re always talking to because in fifteen minutes, you and I are busting in and getting her out.”
Everything was set. Rex’s CIA buddy was taking care of the ambiance. Once Pastor Walker and I were in place, the power to the whole block would be shut off. It was a moonless night. Perfect for what I had in mind.
The Varushkin property was a quick five-minute drive from the apartment. When Rex dropped us off a couple blocks away, he gave me one final word of warning, “Remember, I can’t get involved directly. But when you’re ready to bug out, let me know.”
We exchanged steady looks, and then I walked away, Walker on my heels. The plan was simple. It had to be. I would incapacitate the guards at the front door. Walker was my ammo bearer, shouldering the canvas bag that held the extra AR-15 and the surplus ammunition. His only job was to stay close and keep his head down. If I needed more mags, he would provide them.
The streets were clear, so looking inconspicuous was easy. As we moved closer to the objective, I thought about the insanity of the situation. I was about to conduct a solo raid against a fortified position in the middle of Boston. It made me smile.
Rex had mentioned something about Anna’s grandfather and how his CIA buddy wanted first dibs on the intel, but I wasn’t really listening. My only focus was Anna. After that, her mother. I savored the thought. Anyone who would blackmail her ex-husband, put her own daughter in harm’s way, and run a human trafficking organization deserved to be taken down. I wondered if the duchess knew about the guy at the car wash yet.
A half a block away, my earpiece crackled and Rex’s voice came through.
“We have multiple vehicles coming from the opposite direction. It looks like they’re headed your way.”
Even as he said it, I could see the lights coming up ahead. I grabbed Walker’s arm and pulled him back, taking cover behind some steps leading up to a townhouse.
“Stay down,” I ordered, peering through the railing, the assault rifle cradled and ready.
“They’re slowing,” I heard Rex say.
I watched the lead vehicle turn, right down the street where we were headed. The three matching dark SUVs followed.
My gut told me to run, to make my move, but I surprised myself by waiting. The seconds slipped by.
“They stopped in front of the house,” Rex said. “We’ve got men coming out, entering the vehicles.”
“How many?” I asked.
“Hold on.”
The thumping in my chest turned into deep hollow thuds.
“Twelve,” Rex said.
“And the girl?” I asked.
“No girl.”
What the hell?
“What are they doing now?”
“They’re turning around. Wait. Yeah, they’re going the way they came.”
“What about the guards at the front door?”
“They’re gone too,” Rex said. “Daniel, I’ve got a bad feeling…”
I didn’t hear the rest of his words. I broke from cover and sprinted toward where the last SUV was that had just rounded the corner. I stuck to the darkness along the edge of the bricked properties. When I hit the left turn, I stopped, looked, and confirmed that the front door was no longer defended. My heart raced faster and I took off without waiting for Anna’s father.
When I grabbed the door handle, it was locked. It took me all of twenty seconds to pick the lock. They hadn’t set the two deadbolts.
I slithered inside, weapon scanning. No one there. I heard Walker behind me, but ignored him.
Taking the steps to the second floor two at a time, my mind wandered to familiar morbidity. Would I find Anna dead, her blood covering the floor as her blue eyes stared blankly at the ceiling? Had they killed her and run off, or had they snuck her out without Rex’s surveillance having noticed? I hope for the second option, already cursing myself for not acting sooner, for not doing something back at the farm, for not staying on that goddamn train and heading to Canada instead.
There was no one on the second floor landing, and all I heard was the buzzing of adrenaline in my ears. I shook my head to clear the sound as I crept closer to the door that would give me my answer. Six more steps and I was there.
I hesitated. Did I really want to see what was inside? Had I done it again? Had my presence led to the death of a child, a girl who could’ve given the world so much more than I ever could?
I cursed God and the devil in that moment, calling them both motherfuckers for everything they did to screw with our lives. Were we all just pawns in some twisted cosmic game? Why did everything good in our lives always get taken away and shattered before our eyes? Why couldn’t we just be left alone, to live and die as we pleased? Why, why, WHY?!
I took a shaky breath, reached for the handle, and opened the door.
Chapter 26
The room was dark. Slivers of color filtered in from the lights on the street. I swept the space with my eyes and my weapon. I stopped and stared. Two ice blue eyes stared back from the corner. Anna, my mind whispered.
No, not Anna, but the same eyes. They didn’t move, like a ghost. As my vision adjusted I saw that it wasn’t a ghost, but a man. He had stark white hair and hollow cheeks. He could’ve been dead if his gaze hadn’t followed me as I continued my scan. I felt no malice from the man, only curiosity. Just like Anna. Where was she?
That was not the case with the second man I found, his own weapon extended and pointed back at me. We locked eyes and I saw that he was just as determined. He had the unwavering look of a dog protecting its master, his own safety secondary.
“You must be Daniel,” said the man in the corner, his clear voice cutting across the room. I watched him out of the corner of my eye, weapon and body still focused on the man with the gun. Something else stirred in the corner.
“Daniel?” came a tired voice.
The heat in my chest rippled.
“Anna?” I asked.
“Put the gun down, Vasily. This man is a friend of our Anna’s,” the man in the corner said.
The guard dog did as ordered, even re-holstering his weapon. I did not reciprocate the gesture. Instead, I swiveled my weapon back to the old ghost in the corner.
“Get up, Anna. We’re going,” I said.
Her response wasn’t what I expected. Instead of running to my side, she stood from the day bed and wrapped her arms around the man who I could now see was sitting in a wheelchair.
“I won’t leave him,” she said, defiance mingled with worry.
“Anna, your father’s just down the hall. We need to leave now,” I said, my jaw tight, my gaze unwavering.
She looked hopefully to the door and then back at the man in the wheelchair. He looked at Anna and patted her hand. Then his cool eyes came back to me.
“How did you get in?” he asked.
“It doesn’t matter. I need to take Anna, now.” My voice was sharp. I didn’t have to sit there gabbing with the old man. The hairs on the back of m
y neck prickled against my collar. It was time to go.
“The guards. Where are the guards?” he asked. There wasn’t an ounce of desperation in his voice, just the patient level tone of a general.
“They’re gone. They all left. Now, Anna, can we please go?”
My earpiece crackled and I went to turn the volume down, but the look in the old man’s eyes stopped me. Recognition.
“What do you know?” I asked, my heart jacking into a higher rhythm.
The old man looked at me for a moment, then back over at Anna.
“You should go,” he said to her.
“But I want you to come with us, Poppa.”
Poppa? What the hell?
“Daniel,” the old man said, turning to me. “You must take Anna and go.”
“No! I won’t go. You can’t make me.” She sounded like a child now.
“Anna, listen to me. Go with Daniel. He will see to your safety.”
My earpiece crackled again and I heard Rex say something, but his voice was garbled. Anna and the old man were whispering back and forth. I cut in.
“Why the sudden urgency?” I asked him, trying to listen to the radio at the same time.
If he was worried, he didn’t show it. It reminded me of the look of old buddies, guys who’d seen war, who’d faced down the enemy’s rounds and come out different. Not damaged, just different.
“The reason you must leave, and take Anna with you, is that if I am right, my daughter is about to send men to kill me.”
As if in answer to his warning, three things happened almost all at once. First, I heard Rex say, “Five tangos coming in through the front door.” Second, I heard Pastor Walker’s own warning. A harshly whispered, “Someone’s here,” from the hallway. Third, whoever was at the front door. I heard a crash, followed by a rush of footsteps.
“Get down,” I said to Anna, then ran out the door. The other Russian, Vasily, came right behind, his weapon at the ready.
The bad guys were heading toward the stairs. I took out the first guy with a shot to the head. A lucky shot since I was moving and so was he. The blood spatter made the next man hesitate. Brain chunks to the face will do that. I took that guy out with a quick burst to the chest. He must not have been wearing protection because red blossomed from the front of his white shirt.
