Halon-Seven

by Xander Weaver

  That brought a chuckle from Cyrus. “No, you really don’t,” he said with a grin.

  Stepping out of the chair, Cyrus headed for the door. After two steps, he stopped and looked back. “Sorry about the power. You’re going to need an electrician to come out and get the service back up and running. I really did a number on it.”

  Nathan’s laugh was genuine for the first time all day. “I’d expect nothing less!”

  He followed Cyrus out into the hall.

  “Oh,” Nathan said suddenly. “I’m sure you haven’t seen it yet. I talked with Hondo a few minutes ago. He said something about a list of compromised locations? I’m supposed to watch for his email. It’s supposed to contain a list of properties. I need to pull ownership histories and look for anyone who has run a similar search recently. He was going to send you the email, too.”

  This was the news Cyrus was waiting for. Among all of the files recovered from the printer’s hard drive in Underwood’s office, Cyrus was hoping they wouldn’t find a list of properties Meade owned. But since Dargo’s men were waiting for him in Chicago and New York, Cyrus was betting some kind of list was on file. He needed that list. It should help him understand which transport sites were compromised.

  With no power in Nathan’s office, Cyrus resorted to checking the email on his smartphone. Sure enough, he had a message from Hondo. As they feared, the documents saved to the printer’s hard drive had included a list of properties owned by Walter Meade. And at this point, it was a near certainty that the same list was in Dargo’s hands as well.

  The list included the apartment in Cyrus’s building in Chicago, the group’s office space in Santa Barbara, the apartment in Manhattan, an office space in Washington DC, and the house in Colorado.

  Cyrus felt his stomach drop as he read the last line on the list of properties. The house in Colorado! They’d been so confident that location was secure. But if Dargo had access to the files, it meant he knew all about the house in the mountains!

  Chapter 38

  Miami, Florida

  Friday, 5:55 pm (3:55 pm Colorado Time)

  The phone rang for the third time. Cyrus could hear his heartbeat thundering in his ears. There was another ring, but still no answer. Why wasn’t she picking up? He needed to let Reese know her location was compromised. She needed to get out of there immediately. Nathan still sat across the table from Cyrus, his face was ripe with nervous tension. Only this time he was reacting to Cyrus’s near frantic response to the email message. Nathan didn’t know what was going on, but anyone could see it wasn’t good.

  There was another ring of the phone. Cyrus was planning the fastest way back to the platform. He was twenty minutes away, even in the best-case scenario. Getting back to Colorado would take some time, and if Reese wasn’t picking up, he had no idea what might be waiting for him.

  Finally there was a click, and Reese answered. “Hey!” she said. “Sorry, I was just getting out of the shower.”

  The sound of her voice released the pent up tension from his body. With a sigh, he realized he’d been holding his breath. “We’ve got a problem,” he said without preamble. “The location of the house might’ve been compromised. You have to get out of there now. Don’t wait for me—leave immediately.”

  The pause on the line wasn’t entirely unexpected given the bomb he’d just dropped. “Ah…” she stammered. “Easier said than done.”

  She seemed at a loss for words, but she finally continued. “We’ve gotten about two feet of new snow. I’m not sure I can drive out of here.”

  “That’s not a problem. Take one of the snowmobiles and head for town. Wait for me at the general store.”

  “I thought you couldn’t get the snowmobiles started?”

  She’d asked the question so matter-of-factly that it confused Cyrus. They’d never talked about starting the snowmobiles. He had never tried to start them, let alone tried and failed. All at once, it clicked. He felt his heart skip a beat at the realization.

  Shit!

  “That’s no problem,” he said without letting his voice betray his discomfort. “I took care of it. They’re all set now.”

  “Meet you at the general store? Got it,” she confirmed.

  “And, Reese? Be careful. This might be all for nothing, but I want to play it safe.”

  “I understand. I’ll see you soon.” She clicked off, and the line went dead.

  Setting the cell phone aside, Cyrus stared blankly at the surface of the desk. Reese was something else. Her reference to a conversation that had never taken place was a warning. Dargo was already there. If Cyrus went back now, he’d be walking into a trap. The security of that damn house was the one thing that Cyrus hadn’t questioned. He was sure Meade had kept its location secure. But the location of the house was part of the information cached in the copy machine’s memory. If Dargo knew about the house, he certainly knew about Meridian.

  All their secrets were compromised. The only things Dargo didn’t know were the changes Cyrus had made since joining the operation. That at least meant the team was safe. The transport site in Australia couldn’t be compromised because Hondo had taken the platform to that location personally. It also meant the platform setup in the storage locker in Santa Barbara was safe. But neither of these things helped with the present situation.

  Something else occurred to Cyrus. Strangely, the Miami transport platform didn’t appear to be part of the information entrusted to Allan Underwood. It meant that Underwood’s list of transport sites was incomplete. While he didn’t have an explanation for that, it made him wonder if there were other sites not included on Underwood’s list.

  Launching the Transport Control app Reese had put on his phone, Cyrus entered his security code and switched to the database of platform locations. He scrolled slowly through the list. As they’d discussed, the list wasn’t terribly long. Meade’s team had had limited resources with which to build their platforms, and thanks to the limited availability of Halon-Seven, they wouldn’t be building any more.

  As he reached the end of the list, Cyrus realized none of the listed locations helped with his current problem. He was certain to be walking into a trap. Alternatively, he could transport to Santa Barbara and then fly to Colorado. But even chartering the fastest available plane would take hours. And if he didn’t get back soon, Dargo would sense the deception.

  Frustrated, he scrolled back up the list. He reached the top and still had no better options. About to abandon his current avenue of thought in search of one more productive, he was struck by a sudden flash of insight and hope. There was one platform not on the list.

  Beta II!

  A plan was starting to form in his mind. He looked up at Nathan and was surprised to see a smile cross the man’s face. Accordingly, he cast the man a questioning look.

  “I know that look,” Nathan said proudly. “You’ve got a plan!”

  “That I do,” Cyrus confirmed with a smile of his own.

  “I don’t know what’s going on, but I can tell it’s serious. Just tell me what you need.”

  This surprised Cyrus. He’d come here ready to take Nathan apart for his betrayal. It was something he hadn’t wanted to do, but he was reacting to the situation as it developed. But watching Nathan, he understood. He wasn’t just a professional, he was also a good man. A good man whose job required working with unsavory people. But after today Cyrus felt confident of something he’d never been sure of in the past. When push came to shove, Nathan was a man who would side with his conscience over his Swiss accounts. A quality far too rare in his, or any other profession.

  “Thank you,” Cyrus said with a grin. “I only a couple of things.” He leaned over the counter and detailed his mental shopping list.

  Without so much as a sideways glance, Nathan set off to collect the requested gear. Cyrus was impressed. His confidence in Nathan was restored, but other concerns were beginning to weight more heavily. The moment he’d stepped off the transport platform in Miami,
his apprehension toward the Coalition had resurfaced. That he hadn’t encountered one of their field agents already was becoming a bother, and for the first time, he wondered who they might send. Certainly not Boone. Never again—he’d seen to that on their last encounter. And while rumor had it that the agency had suffered cutbacks following the disappearance of Monica Fichtner, he had no doubt that someone would eventually be sent to make an approach.

  Chapter 39

  Berton Springs, Colorado

  Friday, 4:28 pm

  There was a flash of light, and Cyrus felt his ears pop. He was atop the transport platform on one knee with his Springfield drawn, but the room was dark as pitch. Without making a sound, he reached up and lowered the night vision goggles from their rest position above his brow. They slid securely from his forehead and over his eyes. The goggles functioned by amplifying existing low levels of ambient light. Since there was absolutely no visible light in the room, Cyrus activated an infrared emitter built into the frame. The room immediately sprang into crisp, green-tinted detail.

  Slowly scanning the room, he didn’t move until he was confident he was alone. Not that he expected to meet resistance here. He stepped from the platform and walked slowly across the concrete floor. The file boxes and open cabinet drawers were exactly as he and Reese left them. And, as he’d hoped, the basement vault had hidden the flash of light that normally marked the arrival of a transport.

  Looking back at the old prototype platform, Cyrus continued to wonder why Meade kept it online. It seemed likely the old man had kept it out of nostalgia, but why had it remained active? Based on all he read, it used older technology and required a massive amount of power to operate. That meant this platform either had a nuclear power source or it was retrofitted to utilize Halon-Seven. Either way, keeping the old prototype running seemed an unnecessary effort. So why would Meade have gone through the trouble? Could he have anticipated using it as some sort of escape route? Whatever the reason, there was no denying that it had come in handy today. Cyrus was inside the house. That was all that mattered.

  He stepped up beside the vault door and tapped the release switch. The large vault door slid open with almost no sound. All the same, he had his gun up and at the ready. He peered around the edge of the thick concrete doorframe and scanned the darkened basement beyond. It was clear. Still, he kept his movements slow and deliberate.

  Passing the server cabinet, he tapped the hidden button to close the vault door. As the wall slid shut, he watched the basement and covered the stairway with his silenced Springfield in the off chance someone might arrive to investigate.

  When no response came, he relaxed slightly. He made his way quickly across the open floor, but he stopped short of the entrance to the enclosed stairway. Taking an extra moment to listen once more, he also reached out with his senses, feeling for any presence nearby. It wasn’t a guaranteed method for assessing the situation, but it had worked in the past. The mind often picked up on subconscious cues, such as an odor or a shift in the air flow that would indicate the presence of another person. The conscious mind was often oblivious to these primitive tells, but paying attention to one’s animal instincts often meant the difference between life and death.

  Feeling nothing unusual, Cyrus tipped his shoulder and his gun hand around the corner and took a peek. The stairwell was clear. It was time for the next stage of the plan. He’d made successful entry. It was time to bring in reinforcements. He pulled his mobile phone from his pocket and tapped two buttons on the screen before hitting send.

  Now he needed to wait.

  He kept his position just outside of the stairwell and listened. Strangely, he couldn’t hear any sounds coming from above. There should’ve at least been the normal sounds of a home. The small creak of the floorboards as someone walked from one room to the next. Or the sound of dishes being moved, things being disturbed. But there was absolute silence.

  It was unnerving. Completely understandable if the house was empty, but the tingling feeling behind his eyes told him something was wrong. Nothing so mundane as an empty house.

  The phone in his pocket vibrated silently.

  Cyrus glanced up the staircase one last time before he doubled back across the basement to stop beside the hidden door in the concrete wall. He ran his thumb over the sensor on the security pad and touched the screen once the light went green. The massive door began to silently slide open. As soon as the door came to as stop, Hondo made a slow advance from the vault with his silenced H&K MP5 held high. He scanned left and right across the room, ignoring Cyrus until he was satisfied they were alone.

  Their eyes met, two human-sized, mechanical-looking insects when wearing their high tech night-vision goggles. Hondo nodded silently. Cyrus triggered the door’s mechanism once more and the vault closed behind them.

  They advanced on the stairwell with organized precision, each man taking a position at a side of the empty doorframe.

  Once again, Cyrus glanced around the corner and up the stairway. He could see the light shining through the gap under the closed door at the top. Sliding the goggles from his face and setting them aside, he waited for Hondo to do the same. They wouldn’t need them from here on out.

  They held position for several minutes allowing their eyes time to adjust to the darkness. Once satisfied, Cyrus led the way, climbing silently up the stairs.

  Reaching the closed door at the top, he stopped and took a long slow breath. His heartbeat was calm and controlled, but he knew he would be able to hear better if he could slow down and focus. Sending all of his attention to his hearing, he listened for sounds coming from anywhere in the house. But as long as he waited and as patient as he was, he could hear nothing. Even if a group of men were lying in wait, sooner or later one of them would make some sort of noise. It was just a matter of patience. But for as long as Cyrus dared to wait, he heard noting. Nothing to betray a team waiting in ambush. For the first time, he began to wonder whether he might have misinterpreted Reese’s comment.

  It was unlikely, he reasoned. He would act accordingly.

  Turning the doorknob silently and pushing, he looked into the hallway. He could see part of the kitchen and most of the dining room. The far end of the house, where the doors led to the laundry room and the garage, was also visible. He couldn’t see anyone and nothing was out of place.

  This ruled out the likelihood of a large-scale tactical team. It was a good sign. And, Cyrus reasoned, if they were here waiting for him, it meant they knew about the platforms. They would most likely be waiting in the spare bedroom, ready to grab him as soon as he teleported in. The plan was for Hondo to take out the team waiting in the spare room. He would be coming up on them from behind, a major tactical advantage. Cyrus would sweep the remainder of the house. No one knew about the prototype platform in the vault, so they should have surprise on their side.

  Swinging the basement door open further, Cyrus stepped out with the silenced handgun held high and ready to fire. He would clear the living room, kitchen, and dining room, while Hondo took the back bedrooms. Leaving the basement door mostly open, Cyrus knew it would obscure the view, should anyone step from a back bedroom before he completed his sweep of his end of the house.

  He glanced over his shoulder to see Hondo advancing slowly and silently in the opposite direction. This was it.

  Just before Cyrus reached the end of the hall, where it opened to the living room on the left and the kitchen on the right, he heard the sound of movement in the living room. Someone was on one of the couches, and they had just shifted in their seat. Crap! Cyrus knew he wasn’t as alone as he had hoped. The best-case scenario was that it was Reese, sitting there reading, and this was all just a misunderstanding. The worst-case? Well…he was about to find out. Glancing to his right, he confirmed that the kitchen was clear. Checking over his shoulder, he confirmed that the open door to the basement still blocked the view of the hallway beyond. He took a deep breath, readied his gun, and stepped around the corner in
to the living room.

  Reese was sitting on the sofa, but she was bound hand and foot with white flex-cuffs. A swatch of gaffer’s tape covered her mouth. Beside her sat Dargo, a hulk of a man wearing a black leather jacket, a black turtleneck, dark jeans, and boots. His face was weathered and mildly wrinkled. He’d aged since their last encounter, but his beard and hair were the same neatly trimmed gray stubble. The man had a .45 Colt resting in his lap.

  Cyrus held the gun steady, pointed directly at Dargo’s head. Dargo’s gaze fell on Cyrus the moment he appeared in the corner of the room. There was no surprise in the man’s eyes. Though his hand was still wrapped around the grip of the gun, he made no effort to raise it.

  “Has been a long time,” Dargo said. His English was still slightly broken, and there was only a mild Russian accent.

  Cyrus didn’t say anything. His eyes searched Dargo’s for a sign of the man’s intentions. Dargo had never cared for Cyrus, but after Natasha’s death, Cyrus was confident Dargo wanted him dead. So confident, it fact, he wasn’t sure why Dargo hadn’t paid him a visit years earlier. Since the day Cyrus had walked away from the Coalition, there was one thing he believed with absolute certainty. Dargo would one day visit to settle a past debt. Cyrus just hated having Reese involved in old business.

  But watching Dargo’s eyes, Cyrus didn’t see the hate he expected. Strangely, it wasn’t clear exactly what he was seeing in the man’s gaze. Was it possible Dargo didn’t even know his own intentions here?

  Cyrus considered this. If that were the case, Dargo wasn’t here for the vendetta. He was here because of Meridian. He was here because he was on the job. This was something with which Cyrus could work. A man set on vengeance was unpredictable, but a man doing a job was a slave to the agenda of his employer. This increased the chances of getting Reese out of here alive.