A Conspiracy of Ravens

by Terrence McCauley

  “No idea, not that it matters. Probably with one of their drones. We filed a flight plan and full manifest to see if they’d strike, and they did. That’s why we took one of the other jets and flew to Prague and drove from there.”

  “Which one? Not the new Gulfstream, I hope.”

  Hicks took his coffee from the table. “Yep. That’s the one.”

  “That was my favorite. The bathroom was beautiful.” Roger sat further back on the couch. “These bastards have some heavy ordinance, James. Are you sure hitting that building tomorrow is a good idea?”

  Hicks looked down at the image of the hit team’s leader. He didn’t know how many of them were in Berlin, but they were already down five men. “Tomorrow, we’ll find out for sure.”

  Somewhere

  “THE PLANE went down off the coast of England in international waters,” the German told him. “Just as I promised. The plane has been reported late. A preliminary search of the area has shown no survivors. We should consider this mission accomplished, comrade. The boil has been lanced.”

  But the Man did not share his colleague’s optimism. “Yet I haven’t seen any reports of a missing plane.”

  “Our sources are well placed and knowledgeable, my friend. Our enemy has suffered a great loss, much to our own advantage.”

  “We have lost men, too.” The Man reminded himself to hold on to his temper. His friend had proven quite sensitive in their previous conversation. “I have learned of your efforts at the nightclub in Berlin.”

  The German paused for a moment. “Your resources are as impressive as ever, comrade.”

  “I understand those men have gone missing as well. Perhaps it was unwise to expose us in such an obvious manner at such a critical time, especially without consulting me first. Perhaps you should have followed the man to see where he went rather than kill him.”

  “We don’t care where he was going,” the German said, “and we couldn’t risk the possibility of losing him. We wanted to grab him and question him. We didn’t anticipate losing an entire team in the process. Obviously, this man seems to be more skilled than we thought. Perhaps James Hicks was only the tip of the iceberg.”

  The Man had never underestimated James Hicks or any of the people in his organization, however big or small it might be. He knew Hicks had not been working for the Americans or the British or any other Western power. If he had, the Vanguard’s sources would have been aware of his existence long ago. But he decided arguing with his comrade would serve no purpose other than to agitate him further, and there were other matters that required attention.

  The Man asked, “Have your people detected threats in our other spheres of influence? What about a response from the Americans? Are they rattling their sabers behind closed doors?”

  “Not yet.” The Man could hear the smirk in his comrade’s voice. “You know the Americans. They will hold years of hearings and investigations before they decide to act. By then, it will be too late.”

  Once again, his comrade underestimated his opponent while having too much faith in his own skill.

  He chose his words very carefully. “I would appreciate receiving reports on the American efforts twice a day. Their politicians may want to act deliberately, but their CIA and military will not. Just because we have neutralized the threat from Hicks is no reason for us to be imprudent. The forest has many wolves lurking within it.”

  The German said, “The man from the club is still on the loose. Perhaps we should lessen our imprint in Berlin.”

  “No. To do so would only risk exposure even more. Remain vigilant, and if this man from the club surfaces, contact me immediately, even if it is before your scheduled report.”

  The Man hung up the phone and sat back in his chair. He may have been curt with him, but men like him appreciated deliberate conversation.

  The Man’s son appeared at the entrance of his tent, bearing a tray with a pot of tea and two cups. “May I join you, Father?”

  The Man motioned to the chair beside his table and his son entered. “Is everything okay, Father? You seem troubled.”

  He did not acknowledge this. It was not a son’s place to question the actions of his father. But the slight was minor and unintended, so he allowed it to pass. Perhaps because he was, indeed, troubled. The Vanguard had launched an attack on a major city and the Americans were still carrying on with the ridiculous story about a gas explosion. The German may have believed the Americans to be fools, but the Man did not have the luxury of such beliefs.

  The Americans were planning something. The question was what and when. The Vanguard had successfully eluded them for decades, using their own willful complacency in the years following the Cold War to advance his own beliefs. Beliefs out of fashion, but not without purpose. A battle fought on many fronts, not all of them seen.

  No, the Americans may strike out rashly and blindly when they did, but they would strike, possibly against Iran or Syria. They were always safe targets for American ire.

  The Man had no doubt they would strike, and when they did, he would be ready.

  He remembered his son was there when he felt the young man looking at him. Concerned. He had too much of his mother about him and not enough of his father. Thankfully, he had many other sons. But this was a concern for another day. “Pour the tea.”

  Berlin

  “I THOUGHT you were dead,” Demerest said.

  Hicks had reassembled the phone and was on his way to the rally point Scott had picked out. “Good. If you think so, then our playmates think so, too.”

  “Sarah was worried sick when she heard about the plane. Jason told her your plan, but she didn’t believe it. I think sacrificing the flight crew was a damned selfish thing to do.”

  “I didn’t sacrifice anyone.” Hicks kept his voice low as he threaded his way through the crowded street. He knew it was an encrypted line and he was speaking in English on a Berlin street, but he still didn’t like giving details over a non-OMNI line. “The plane was programmed to take off and land on its own. No one was on board.”

  “You’ve got an answer for everything, don’t you, son?”

  “If I did, I wouldn’t be here.”

  “And how’s that working out for you?”

  “Pretty well. Do you want to know details or do you still want plausible deniability?”

  “I never used those words.”

  “You didn’t have to.”

  Demerest didn’t argue. “Will whatever you’re planning help us get that proof we discussed?”

  “I don’t know for sure,” Hicks admitted, “but there’s a good chance it will. I may need your help to pull it off.”

  “What kind of help?”

  Hicks was glad he was still on board with the program. “What kind of pull do you have with the German authorities?”

  “All the pull I need within reason and with enough notice. Why?”

  “Because things are liable to get dicey over the next couple of hours, and I might need some cover from some people in high places.”

  “Are you speaking metaphorically or literally?”

  “Maybe both,” Hicks allowed, “but metaphorically for now. We’ve got a solid lock on where some of our friends are located. I take it you can track this phone you gave me?”

  “My assistant and I are the only ones who can, but we haven’t yet. Do you want me to track it now?”

  Hicks wasn’t sure he believed him, but said, “I’ll keep it on so you’ll know where I am. I need you to make sure I have a wide berth in case things get out of hand. After all I’ve been through, I don’t want to get shot by some cop thinking he’s doing the right thing.”

  “I’ll make some calls.”

  “Not now,” Hicks warned. “Only if I call you. I don’t want to risk these bastards getting wind of this before the show starts.”

  “I know, son. This isn’t my first rodeo.”

  Hicks laughed. “Mine either. I’ll call you when I know more.”

&nbs
p; He killed the connection and had to remember to not turn the phone off before he tucked it into his pocket. The feel of the Ruger under his left arm made him feel secure.

  The M4 Scott had in his bag would make him feel even better.

  HE FOUND Scott at a Starbucks located around the corner from where they’d go in. He was sitting alone at a table in the center of the store. The place was crowded, mostly by tourists looking for a taste of home and young people at tables lost in whatever they were looking at on their laptop screens.

  A few customers kept eyeing the rare real estate of an empty chair at Scott’s table, but no one dared asked if they could borrow it, much less join him. He didn’t look like the kind of man who enjoyed company.

  Hicks sat across from him and Scott pushed a large coffee his way. “Hope you take it black because that’s what I got you. You don’t strike me as the chai soy latte type.”

  He remembered that was Jason’s choice, with a dash of vanilla. He used to have to bring it to him whenever they had one of their unavoidable briefings back when Hicks was the head of the University’s New York Office and Jason his link to the Dean. Now, the roles were reversed and it was Hicks who gave Jason orders.

  Any other time, he might have taken comfort in that and in the memory, but he had other things on his mind. “Everyone in position?”

  “No. I told them to go to the zoo. Figured they could blow off some steam before the show starts.”

  Hicks took the lid off the coffee and blew away steam of a different nature. Scott was in charge of the mission, so he had given him more latitude than normal. “Serves me right for asking an obvious question.”

  “They’ll join us at the place right before we’re set to go in,” Scott said. “I staggered the times so we don’t go in as a group and raise suspicion. Tali doesn’t like the idea of sitting this one out in the van, but I told her she doesn’t have a choice.” He looked at Hicks over his cup before he drank. “Your girl’s a feisty one.”

  “Yeah.” Hicks drank his coffee. “She’s only a contingency anyway. We might not need to use her, but she knows the city better than any of us so she’s the best choice behind the wheel.”

  “I was stationed here for six years, remember?”

  “But you’ll be busy with other things, remember?”

  “Amen to that. Anything will be better than all this talking and waiting. Mike said he’s working on putting the street cameras on a continuous loop. It won’t fool anyone after the fact, but it’ll keep the cops from identifying us.”

  “Assuming we’re still around to care about being identified.”

  “We will,” Scott said. “We know what’s coming. Those assholes in there don’t. That will make all the difference. Besides, I’ve seen you in action and you’re not too bad.”

  Hicks knew that was as close to a compliment as he was likely to get from Scott. He didn’t particularly like Scott, but he never doubted the man’s ability to plan a raid. In all his years with the Varsity Squad in New York, none of his ops had ever gone sideways. Hicks hoped today wouldn’t be an exception.

  He knew Scott had done his homework. He had spent the entire previous night and that morning working out every detail he could imagine, given the tight time frame. He had devised a sound plan of attack. The rest of the team had agreed with it. To question his confidence wouldn’t accomplish anything.

  Scott checked his watch and stood up. “Time to go. Bring your coffee with you. It’ll help us blend in on our way there.”

  Hicks stood up and followed him out the door, taking a healthy gulp of coffee as he did so. It might be the last taste of home he’d have for a while. Maybe forever.

  THE SETUP of the Vanguard facility wasn’t similar to the Annex back in New York. It was exactly like it. If Hicks didn’t know any better, he would have thought the Vanguard had copied his plans. But Hicks knew better. If they had been aware of the Annex, they would’ve hit that, too.

  The building behind the Vanguard facility was a garage. From half a block away Hicks saw several cars going in and out, mindful of traffic, and not in any particular hurry.

  “It’s a nice setup they’ve got there,” Scott said as they approached the place. “Smart, too. Cars going in and out all hours of the day and night. Perfect cover. The entrance we’re looking for is on the top level. It’s a common stairway anyone can use to get back down to the street. There’s a door off to the left that looks like it accesses the roof, which it does. But there’s another that looks like a utility closet. Even reads that way on the plans. Except that’s our way in to the Holy of Holies.”

  “Maybe it really is just a utility closet.”

  “Pretty solid door for a utility closet, especially for a garage. It lines up perfectly with our building behind it. I scanned the rest of the place for an entry point and that door is the only one that makes sense.”

  “And if it turns out to be a closet?”

  “Then I’ll go to bed without supper. But trust me, that’s the way in.”

  Hicks let it go. “Cameras?”

  “Standard stuff. An attendant on the ground level who doesn’t seem to be in on the joke. We ran him through OMNI and he came up clean. Born in Bermuda, believe it or not. Don’t know how the hell he wound up here, but here he is. Has a wife and a couple of kids. Been here seven years and doesn’t seem to care about anything except soccer. He’s harmless. The night guy is a pimple-faced kid from the sticks. He came up clean, too.”

  Hicks wrote off the details to pre-game nervous talk on Scott’s account. He took some comfort knowing even a man like Scott could get nervous before the ball went up.

  Hicks ditched his coffee in a trash barrel on the corner before they crossed the street and entered the garage. He pulled his wireless earpiece from his pocket and slipped it into his ear.

  “Home base, do you copy?”

  Mike’s voice came in loud and clear. “I’ve got you. You were the last one to sync up, so now I’ve got all four of you. Since I can’t read what’s in the building, we may lose contact once you breach. But your handhelds should remain connected locally so you should be able to communicate with each other at least.”

  It wasn’t an ideal situation, but there wasn’t much he could do about it. “See you on the other side, Ace.”

  They walked down the ramp then meandered up the driveway to the higher floors of the structure. They looked like two men looking for their car.

  When they reached the top level, Hicks eyed all the cars, looking for anyone who might be serving as a lookout for the people in the facility. He didn’t spot anything out of the ordinary until he saw the trunk of a Volkswagen Passat pop open next to the stairway entrance.

  Roger stepped out from behind the wheel. Patel came out from the passenger side. Both had Beretta ARX100 semi-automatic rifles at their sides. Without breaking stride Scott reached into the trunk, removed a Mossberg 590A1 tactical shotgun, and held it against his leg as he approached the stairway door. Patel fell in behind him, with Roger covering the rear.

  Hicks took the only remaining gun in the trunk and shut the lid. The Colt M4 might not have been the most powerful rifle on the market, but it was what he was used to. And in the moments ahead, familiarity and comfort might be all the edge he needed.

  Scott went through the stairway door first, Patel second, followed by Hicks. Roger delayed a second before coming inside and shutting the door behind him. They followed Scott up the stairs and Hicks saw the doorway leading to the roof. Scott grabbed the knob of the door to his left and turned it.

  Locked.

  On cue, Roger stepped around them and wedged a small crowbar between the door and the jamb. The frame buckled as it bent in, separating it from the lock assembly. Hicks tensed for the sound of an alarm, but nothing happened.

  Roger pulled the door open and stayed there while Scott ducked inside. Rahul went behind him. Hicks followed and Roger brought up the rear.

  It wasn’t a closet.

 
They found themselves in a narrow brick hallway, a single dim bulb in the ceiling their only light. Scott quickened his pace now, pausing only at the corner. He threw up his left fist, signaling the others to stop.

  He ducked his head around the corner and quickly pulled it back. He whispered, “Same kind of door. Opens toward us. Key card entry. Definitely alarmed. Cover your ears, ladies. It’s about to get awfully loud in here.”

  Scott rounded the corner and fired one shot at the lock, the sound booming in the narrow hallway. He fired two more shots, one at each of the door’s hinges, before moving toward the door. The door fell forward into the hallway. Scott stepped on it as he moved inside. Patel followed, then Hicks, with Roger covering their backs.

  Hicks knew they were in the main building now.

  His stomach ran cold.

  The entire top floor of the building was completely empty. No walls, no desks, no chairs, nothing to block their line of sight. Rows of harsh florescent light almost hurt the eyes, especially because the windows had been painted over.

  But at least there was no place for anyone to hide. Not even ductwork in the ceiling. No cameras or sensors Hicks could see, either.

  The team used the empty space to their advantage, fanning out into a staggered formation. Four individual targets were harder to hit than one group. As they moved, Hicks listened for sounds of an alarm. Flashing lights alerting the occupants to their presence. But all he heard was the hum of the lights from above as the four of them moved toward a door in the far left-hand corner.

  One floor down, two more to go.

  They all stopped when Scott stopped several feet to the side of the door, then knelt when Scott knelt. He was well in front of the rest of the team, too far away and too quiet for them to hear what he was saying without their earpieces.

  “Steel door,” Scott said. “Reinforced and key card lock. Small window and thick glass center high.”

  Hicks gripped his M4 tighter, waiting for whatever might happen next.