Dangerous in Action (Aegis Group Alpha Team, #2)

by Sidney Bristol

  Oh... No...

  The stage door crashed open.

  “Isaac? Tanya?”

  “Here! There’s gas. Get out of here.” She edged away from the slowly growing cloud of gas.

  “Where’s Isaac?” Felix called out.

  “I don’t know. Find him. Get everyone clear of the stage. Whatever it takes.”

  She could see the over turned fog machine.

  Tanya grabbed an empty rubber tub. It wouldn’t seal, but it might stop the spread. She just had to get it inside the container.

  She’d said earlier that stopping the gas was the most important thing. It was time to live by those words.

  Tanya darted forward, holding her breath. She slammed the tub down on top of the machine. The existing cloud of gas dissipated a bit, but gas still leaked out from the sides.

  Anything organic was at risk. Contact with the skin would leave burns, and once it was breathed in it would attack her lungs and tissue. But if she was one of a few casualties instead of hundreds, that was worth it.

  Tanya slid the tub sideways until the machine bumped up against the bin. Her lungs burned but she didn’t dare breathe.

  She reached down, lifted the side of the bin, shoved the lid under it until the machine was pinched between the bin and lid. Only then did she tip the bin right side up and slam the lid down. She took a step back, but something hit her calves. Her feet went out from under her and she landed on the ground, back first. Her head bounced off the concrete and she gasped for air.

  “Tanya? Tanya!” Felix howled her name from somewhere far off.

  She turned her head, her vision blurry.

  The side door was open and people rushed in.

  No.

  They had to stay clear of the gas.

  Her lungs ached.

  She pushed up, coughing into her hand.

  Something wet and sticky coated her fingers.

  She stared down at the mangled mess of her hand. It didn’t even look like skin anymore.

  “Get back! Don’t breathe in the gas.” Felix held his arms out.

  Two men in uniforms grabbed Felix. Their voices were loud, their words rushing together.

  She peered down at herself. Her jeans didn’t look right. Almost as if they were ten years older. She could see her legs, blistered in places, through holes in the fabric.

  The gas.

  Right.

  She rolled over and pushed up to her knees, but that was all the strength she had.

  Where was Isaac? Had he gotten away okay? What about the other man?

  Just because they had the console, didn’t mean they were in the clear.

  Orlando was still out there, and he was a threat. She had to do something about him.

  Her vision hazed, everything growing fuzzy.

  She’d been careful, but who knew how much of the gas she’d breathed in?

  If they stopped Orlando, her death was worth it. Her only regret was not holding Isaac’s hand earlier.

  20.

  Sunday. Bethesda, MD.

  Isaac pumped his arms, everything in him focused on the man sprinting away from him.

  Teenagers ran in every direction. Whoever got off a shot earlier had sent the whole crowd into a panic. It was a diversion, it had to be, and Isaac wouldn’t let them get away.

  He vaulted over a waist high wrought iron fence, cutting across the area reserved for the ducks. He charged through a hedge and over another fence, gaining close to twenty yards on the other man.

  Ahead of him, a car idled.

  A man stood at the trunk, phone to his ear.

  Orlando.

  Isaac would recognize him anywhere.

  The man in the suit got five yards from the car.

  Orlando raised his hand and fired a gun. The man in the suit pitched backward. The sound of the gunshot was almost drowned out by the screaming crowd.

  Isaac put on a burst of speed and barreled into Orlando, knocking them both to the ground. Isaac drove his fist into Orlando’s face.

  Hands grasped Isaac from behind, dragging him off the other man.

  Isaac whirled, kicking out and throwing a punch.

  The smaller, lighter man went down hard.

  Isaac ignored him and grabbed Orlando by the coat.

  In a matter of moments, cops would pour into the park. They wanted Tanya, and likely the rest of their team. Orlando would slip out, without anyone the wiser he was really behind it. Isaac had to get him back to the meeting point. The others would return, and from there they could decide how to deal with Orlando.

  Isaac held his gun against Orlando’s forehead.

  “Where have we met before?” Orlando pushed up to his elbows, completely at ease, despite the blood trickling down his chin and having a gun pressed to his skull.

  “I have enough reason to shoot you right here and now, understand?” Isaac groped in the smaller man’s pockets until he found keys. He unlocked the trunk with the press of a button. “Get in.”

  “Is this personal?” Orlando pushed up to his feet.

  “In.” Isaac gestured at the trunk.

  “I could make it worth your while to—”

  Isaac hauled back with his left hand and delivered a sloppy hook to the other man’s jaw. Orlando pitched backward, sitting down in the trunk hard. Isaac shoved the man’s legs and limbs inside, then slammed the trunk shut. He glanced around at the quickly emptying park. Sirens wailed, drawing closer.

  He felt for his comm., but the ear piece was gone.

  “Shit,” he muttered.

  It could have fallen out anywhere.

  The others would make it out on foot, he had to believe that.

  Isaac slid into the driver’s seat and cranked the engine.

  He gassed it, sending the car shooting forward.

  A cop car swerved around the bend. Isaac cranked the wheel, barely missing the other vehicle. He glanced in the rearview mirror, but the car didn’t turn to follow.

  The warehouse was awfully close to the park.

  The others would make it.

  They had to.

  Isaac pushed the speed limit, but not by much. If he were pulled over there would be no explaining why he had a man in his trunk. An oddly silent one.

  What was Orlando doing back there?

  The roads to the warehouse were clear. No one followed. He didn’t see a single member of the team as he neared.

  If they were still in the park the likelihood of getting caught in the press of people fleeing and the cops circling in likely meant they weren’t coming for a while.

  He drove into the warehouse and parked alongside the van they’d left.

  Orlando was a slippery bastard. Isaac didn’t want to handle him alone if he could help it. He hadn’t patted him down, so for all Isaac knew, Orlando was ready to take a shot at him.

  Isaac pulled out his phone and hit dial for Zain. If the others were preoccupied, Isaac didn’t want to distract them. Zain was likely listening in on the comms anyway.

  “Where the hell are you?” Zain asked by way of a greeting.

  “At the warehouse where Mossad had their headquarters. Where is everyone else?”

  “The cops have them. Isaac...Tanya is one of about a dozen who were exposed to the gas.”

  “What?” Isaac gripped the wheel, the car fading away from him.

  “I don’t know anymore. The guys turned their comms off when they were arrested. I’ve got a lawyer headed to them, but no idea where Tanya was taken, if she’s alive, or anything.”

  “I’ll call you back.” Isaac hung up the phone.

  He stared in the rearview mirror at the top of the trunk.

  The gas was deadly. That much Tanya had made certain they understood. But what if there was a cure? Some sort of antidote or treatment? The people Orland stole it from had no reason to admit to their creation, but Orlando would have every reason to know—and have—such a thing.

  Isaac got out of the car. He sucked down a deep breath
and then another.

  For all he knew, Tanya was dead. He’d thought she had the console under control, that she was fine. That was on him. She’d been capable and in control every step of the way. She’d never needed him until he left her.

  He had to believe she was still alive, that maybe she didn’t get full exposure or something.

  Isaac drew his gun and pulled the slide back.

  There had to be an antidote or a cure. Something.

  He clicked the key fob and the trunk popped open.

  “Get out,” Isaac said.

  The trunk slowly lifted.

  “You going to kill me? Is that what you do now? I wasn’t aware that was on your service list.” Orlando sat up, staring at him with his head cocked to the side.

  “Get out of the car, now.”

  Orlando braced his hands on the trunk and stepped out.

  “Take the coat off,” Isaac said.

  Orlando shrugged out of his coat and turned in a circle.

  The man wasn’t armed that Isaac could see.

  “The gas—you have an antidote?” Isaac edged forward.

  “An antidote?” Orlando snorted. “No such thing exists.”

  “You’re lying.”

  “If they made one, it would be useless. The gas works on contact, breaking down living tissue, killing immediately.”

  “No, it doesn’t. It can’t.”

  “Who was exposed? One of your team? Tanya? Please tell me it was Tanya. That would be beautiful.”

  Isaac took a step, hauled his right hand back and slammed the butt of his Glock against the side of Orlando’s face. The man staggered sideways, bracing his hands on the car.

  “It was Tanya.” Orlando cackled, a maddening, deranged sound that echoed off the walls. “It will be painful. She’ll die slowly, wishing it would hurry up and kill her. And then there’s you.”

  “Where is the antidote?” Isaac grabbed a fist of Orlando’s shirt and pressed the muzzle of the gun to his temple.

  “There isn’t one. That’s the beauty of it. And the destruction doesn’t stop there. I might kill her, but I’ll destroy you, and everyone who loses someone they love there today.”

  “She’s the only person who got exposed, so your revenge is pretty pathetic.”

  “Is it? I can see how her death is twisting you.” Orlando grinned. “What are you going to do with me now? Beat a cure out of me? Go ahead.”

  Isaac tightened his grip on Orlando’s shirt. He could kill the guy and no one would care. There wasn’t a person who would lament his death. If Isaac did that, then no one would pay for Tanya’s sacrifice. There would be no justice, except for him.

  Killing Orlando would be a momentary balm, but tomorrow Isaac would have to wake up and look at his reflection and know that he sealed Tanya’s fate. No one would know her sacrifice or what she’d done, because who would stand up for her without also making Orlando face justice?

  “Turn around.” Isaac shoved Orlando at the car.

  “You won’t look at a man you’re about to kill?”

  “I said, turn around.” Isaac jerked Orlando around by his elbow. He grabbed one of the thick zip ties from his pocket and bound Orlando’s wrists together.

  “What time is it?” he asked.

  “What does that matter?”

  “Just curious.”

  Isaac paused, rolling the last fifteen minutes through his mind.

  Orlando hadn’t put up a fight. It was almost as though he’d been expecting someone.

  “Is it past one, yet?”

  Isaac glanced at his watch.

  One-fifteen.

  “What happens at one?” Isaac asked.

  “You’ll see.”

  Isaac shoved the man back into the trunk and slammed it shut.

  They’d missed something important at the park. Something big.

  Isaac pealed out of the warehouse. Orlando yelled from the trunk, but Isaac ignored him.

  The streets around the park were blocked off, cars with lights flashing and uniforms everywhere.

  A man in an FBI windbreaker strode past one of the barricades.

  Isaac leapt out and waved his arm.

  “Hey! FBI? Hey!”

  The man turned and frowned at Isaac.

  He left the car idling and jogged toward the man.

  “Have you guys found some sort of...secondary dispersal for the gas? A bomb? Something that wasn’t back stage?” Isaac had to stop this. Tanya’s sacrifice couldn’t be for nothing.

  “Who are you?” the man demanded.

  “My name is Isaac Cohen. I work for Aegis Group, my team and I were alerted to a potential threat and I think some of them stopped one, but there might be another.”

  “I need you to come with me.” The FBI agent put his hand on his service weapon.

  “Okay, yes, fine, but—I’ve got a guy in the trunk of my car and—and my girlfriend was exposed to the gas.”

  Sunday. Walter Reed Military Medical Center, Washington, D.C.

  Tanya’s eyelids weighed a ton. Lifting them took too much effort, so she’d stopped.

  Her skin ached as though someone had scrubbed her from head to toe, inside and out, with a wire brush. Hell, even her hair seemed to hurt.

  “Here, this should help the pain,” a woman said.

  Who was that? What were they giving her? Where the hell was she?

  It took all of Tanya’s effort to part her lids and peer out.

  The room was cast in a blueish hue. One bright light shone down on her. A woman wearing surgical scrubs, a mask and gloves leaned over her. Everything was covered save for her eyes.

  “Hey, there. This is going to help with the pain, okay? Don’t try to talk. They had to take you through decontamination. I know that couldn’t have been fun, but you’re in ICU now and we’re going to take good care of you.”

  The nurse glanced away.

  Why was Tanya here?

  The last thing she remembered was holding Isaac’s hand.

  No, that wasn’t right.

  She’d wanted to hold his hand.

  “There’s someone who wants to talk to you,” the nurse said.

  A figure edged forward. He had a hospital gown draped over his clothing and a mask on his face that hid the mole.

  Robert Ellis and Brent Jones leaned over her.

  Tanya sucked down a breath and tried to make her hands work, but her body was sluggish and unresponsive.

  “Hi, Tanya. We never got the chance to properly meet. I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry.” Robert shook his head. “We stopped him, though.”

  Him?

  Did he mean Orlando?

  Darkness closed in around her before she could figure out how to ask her question.

  Isaac could have lived his whole life without going through decontamination. He was pretty sure every inch of skin had been scrubbed and power washed. More than likely, he’d lost a good layer or five of flesh in the process.

  The officer in charge of him stood by while Isaac dressed in a pair of hospital scrubs. The jury was still out on whether or not they were arresting him. Given the fact that Isaac had technically kidnapped Orlando, there were plenty of grounds for his arrest.

  “This way,” the officer said.

  Isaac followed the man down the empty corridor. He didn’t know a lot about hospitals, but there always seemed to be more people around.

  “Where’s Tanya? How’s she doing?” he asked.

  “You mean the woman? Dark hair?”

  “Yes.”

  “No clue.” The officer opened a door and held it for Isaac.

  “Where the hell have you been?” Kyle demanded.

  “Nice dress.” Isaac glanced at the others, similarly clothed in hospital gowns instead of scrubs. “Where’s Tanya?”

  “They aren’t telling us anything.” Abigail grimaced.

  “Because that’s my job.”

  “Our job.”

  Isaac turned to stare at a short, stocky man
next to a tall, pale guy with dark hair. Like the rest of them, they had on a hospital gown, the only difference was they got to have their clothes on underneath.

  “You’re Robert.” Isaac balled his hands into fists. He didn’t give two fucks about the other guy.

  “I am.” Robert shook his head and lifted his gaze to Isaac. “I owe your team a debt of gratitude.”

  “You sold her out.” Isaac took a step forward.

  Hands grasped at Isaac’s arms, hauling him away from Robert.

  Robert stood his ground just inside the doors of the small waiting room, unmoved by Isaac’s aggression.

  “Easy.” Agent Jones stepped in front of Robert. “We all had a part to play.”

  “Many things have happened the last two months I am not proud of.” Robert crossed to the closest seat and sat down, his shoulders slumping.

  “Where’s Tanya? Is she going to make it?” Isaac jerked his hand out of Shane’s hold.

  “She’s here, and they don’t know.” Agent Jones kept his eyes on Isaac but otherwise didn’t move. “Most of her damage is external, but she did breathe in some of the gas. They’re treating her as best they can.”

  Robert’s grim expression didn’t spare much hope.

  “What about the gas?” Abigail asked.

  “Orlando talked as though there was a second bomb, or dispersal, or something.” Isaac edged forward.

  Adam shoved Isaac back a step with a hand to the chest.

  “Thanks to Robert, we found Orlando’s man in the CIA. He was...persuaded to tell us about it.”

  “Persuaded?” Robert snorted. “You beat the shit out of him.”

  Isaac stared at Agent Jones, torn between respect and wondering what other lines the man might have crossed.

  “Not my proudest moment.” Brett smiled, a tight expression that didn’t reach the rest of his face. “The gas and the companion bomb are secure. The FBI have Orlando in custody, but I doubt they’ll get to keep him. There’s going to be a fight over who gets the first crack.”

  “What about your wife?” Isaac asked Robert.

  “My wife was found alive in Orlando’s Berlin home. Whatever my punishment is doesn’t matter, so long as she’s alive.” Robert’s shoulders slumped. He was a weary man.