Agent M: Project Mabus (The Agent M Series Book 1)

by L. M. Vila

  “Excuse me Sergeant Miller,” said one of the younger officers. “Shouldn’t we clear out some of the area? The tow truck will be here shortly.”

  That’s right. Miller knew with everyone’s emotions running high they wouldn’t be thinking clearly, like the trained officers they were. The only one establishing some order around here was Sergeant Miller. He looked down where the young officer was standing. The sun was already coming down. Visibility was fading. Miller turned on his flashlight and pointed it towards the ditch.

  “I’d say that’s a good idea. Let’s move some –” his flashlight shined against the vehicle’s logo. Something vaguely familiar about it. “What’s that make and model of that vehicle down there?”

  The young officer flipped through his notes. “Toyota Avalon sir.”

  “Did we run the plates?”

  He peered through his notes again. “Didn’t find any sir. They were ripped off.”

  “What about the V.I.N.?”

  “Scratched off.”

  Interesting. Whoever dumped this vehicle did not want to be found. Immediately, an epiphany struck. Miller commanded the young officer. “Call headquarters. Ask if that A.P.B. on a black Avalon is still in effect.”

  “Will do.”

  He took off immediately. Miller went down further into the ditch to examine the vehicle for himself. No other officers were near it. They were still scattered above looking for any other trace of evidence. No one wanted this crime to go unresolved yet they were being sloppy. An investigation was no time to get emotional.

  Miller slipped on a pair of latex gloves and started to climb on top of the turned vehicle. Having a car sit on its side only added to the challenge. He scaled the car from the top end, trying to nestle his way through the missing front door opening. It shouldn’t have been difficult but sadly Miller had let his weight go in the last couple of years. Gravity tugged at him a little stronger than others. The Avalon was relatively small and one part of his brain was thankful that it wasn’t a truck or semi.

  Finally inside, Miller squeezed through and landed safely against the smashed passenger window. He made sure to be extra careful as he bent down. No reason to be hasty and sacrifice his body in the process.

  The prized location was in his hands. Miller opened the glove box. Out spilled the manufacturer’s manual and nothing else. No registration. No insurance documents. Absolutely nothing. This vehicle was an apparition, without a place in this world to call home. Whoever owned this vehicle made sure to leave without a trace. Definitely professionals. That would rule out any simple burglary or murder charges. They had a purpose being here. Now he just needed to know what it was.

  “Sergeant Miller!” Shouted the young officer from before. “Sergeant Miller, are you there?”

  Climbing from the wreckage, Miller pulled himself as best as his strength could perform. “I’m here. What have you got for me?”

  “That A.P.B. you were asking about sir. You were right. Turns out they were searching for a black Toyota Avalon.”

  Good find but not sound. Out of the three million cars driving through this city at any given time there probably was more than one of these makes and models. Miller needed something concrete. A defining piece of evidence that would make this vehicle special.

  “Anything else?”

  “Actually sir, that A.P.B. was put out by an FBI agent.”

  The FBI? Miller pondered at why they would be involved. Maybe the kid has some answers.

  “Any reason the FBI’s involved on this?”

  “Probably because this car suspected to belong to a pair of individuals that tried to assassinate an FBI agent.”

  Miller felt the picture finally come into light. Now that explains everything. The only thing left was to make a phone call. One that would hopefully make sense of this chaos.

  “Michael!” Shouted Steve. His frantic nature is well warranted. Big news just came in that his favorite agent would be dying to hear.

  After listening to Steve’s exclamation, Michael stepped away from the desk. He watched Steve approach eagerly, almost flustered with delight.

  “I just got a call from L.A.P.D. That A.P.B. you put out on a black Avalon? Looks like the found it.”

  Important news indeed. Finally a break in this case. Steve willingly continued.

  “The Sergeant who called believed it was suspicious. He said every piece of identification was stripped off the car except the damn hood ornament.”

  Michael decided to step in before Steve got overly excited. “Where did they find it?”

  “In a ditch off Colima Road. Along with two bodies. One of them being an L.A.P.D. officer.”

  It had to be them. Michael had little choice but to trust it. Michael quickly grabbed his jacket and moved past Steve. His colleague didn’t seem as ready to brush off the conversation as Michael was.

  “So why did you put out an A.P.B.? Is it related to that case from this morning?”

  “Unimportant.”

  He still had his reasons to remain vague. To keep up appearances, he added in a line to continue the bond between them.

  “Stay in contact. Just in case.”

  “Will do.” Steve was thrilled to hear it.

  This sudden piece of information was almost too convenient. Michael almost didn't want to believe it. Something told him they may be walking into a trap. With not much else to go on, Michael was ready to find out.

  “Meryl!” A voice called. She looked up and saw a familiar face walking towards her.

  “Hey Isabella.” Meryl stepped away from the printer as it was spewing out pages of data.

  “Here, look.” Isabella passed her a fairly large gift bag.

  “Oh, what is it?”

  Meryl opened it up and took a peek. There was a finely carved wooden box. Meryl pulled it up and flipped the lid.

  “I picked it up about twenty minutes ago. It’s a Shakyamuni Buddha statue carved in pure jade.”

  “Pure jade?” She picked up the gift and marveled at not only its design but its weight as well. This was the real deal. “It’s beautiful.”

  “Michael seems like a guy who’s always trying to maintain equilibrium. Both in work and life. The lady at the store said that this would help guide his thoughts and keep him balanced no matter how tilted the world may feel.”

  Isabella was right. Many Buddhist principles revolved around keeping one’s life in balance. The body is a temple and must be treated as such. And also those who follow the Noble Eightfold Path would lead to cessation of suffering. This is exactly what Michael needs. What a perfect gift.

  “This is amazing Isabella, you did a fantastic job. This will definitely brighten up that boring desk of his.”

  “Really? Thank you so much. I couldn’t have done it without you.”

  “Hey, don’t mention it.” Meryl shut the lid placed the statue back into the bag. It was a marvelous piece. Pretty extravagant for a birthday gift. Especially being carved in Jade. “This must have set you back a few bucks. How much did everyone chip in?”

  “Oh, don’t worry about it. Steve pretty much covered the entire cost. He gave me something like five-hundred dollars.”

  “Five-hundred dollars?” That was odd. He may be an information guy but Steve was still an FBI employee with an FBI salary. Meryl did the math. Based on her meager expenses, she couldn’t hold five-hundred dollars in cash even if she wanted to. For someone to keep that kind of dough on them was either loaded or foolish. An FBI employee couldn’t be either.

  “Yea, he was really enthusiastic. Steve kind of looks up to Michael. I think he may be jealous since he’s never been in the field.”

  Meryl laughed. “It’s not all it’s cracked up to be. I think he’d better enjoy the easy life while he can.”

  Isabella shared in Meryl’s sentiment and smiled. It was a short lived moment of brevity. She sensed someone was coming. Someone very intimidating.

  “I’ve got to run. But thanks again for your
help Meryl,” she said waving goodbye. In a flash Isabella disappeared.

  “Meryl, let’s go,” called Michael from behind. If she wasn’t forewarned by Izzy’s sudden departure, it might have spooked her how quickly and stealthily he approached.

  “Just a second.” She grabbed the short stack of papers from the printer and waved them confidently. “I’ve got a list of everyone who’s emigrated here in the last two years. The single year list was short so I expanded it to two years just to cover our bases.”

  Glancing at the pages, Michael wondered why it was still so short. “That’s all?”

  “Not exactly, I had the list filtered by reported income levels. Everyone here is in the upper-middle class level or higher. Most of them are engineers and scientists but I figure it won’t be too hard to narrow it down to a choice few candidates.”

  Michael briefly glanced over it. Information on every one of them was in great detail. Another fantastic job. Meryl definitely seemed cut out for this type of work. He had to admit it. They still made a good team. Now, and especially then.

  “Good, let’s move.” Michael took off while Meryl tried to catch up to his rushed pacing.

  “Where are we going?”

  “L.A.P.D. found our vehicle. Parked over in a ditch on Colima.”

  “Ditch? Was it abandoned?”

  Michael nodded. “Along with two bodies.”

  “Jesus. Sounds like them alright.” Meryl caught up with Michael’s speed as they headed for McCrae’s office. “What’s the plan?”

  “Talk to McCrae. Get an escort. Maybe we’ll find something that will connect to the names on your list.”

  “Sounds good.”

  “You armed?”

  Meryl checked for her weapon using her elbow. A quick way of verifying while being subtle to boot. “It’s here. Plus two extra magazines.”

  They walked up to McCrae’s door and entered. For FBI agents who normally survey crimes hours after they occurred, having two extra clips seemed like overkill. However, in this case, Michael just hoped they wouldn’t need more.

  Left alone with her memories, Seika continued to sharpen her blades. Nine throwing knives approximately eight inches in length were laid gently on a velvet covered mat. The tenth knife was firmly gripped in her hand as she made smooth and continuous motions over the slab of whetstone. Even if they were allowed to go all out, Seika preferred her blades as a last resort. It was just her style.

  A phone rang. Not hers. The Russian answered it and began speaking. His voice was getting on Seika’s nerves. Kurtis wasn’t an assassin. He was a killer. A brute. A savage. He didn’t work with any sense of professionalism. His methods were sloppy and his actions were controlled by his temper. Not something to be highlighted on an assassin's résumé.

  Restraining herself while in combat with the target took every ounce of professionalism in Seika's body. She couldn’t murder him and without leaving any traces. That wasn’t professional, nor her style. The opportunity just didn’t present itself. Something about her employer’s plan made Seika wonder if that was his intention all along.

  She finished sharpening the knives, tucking each one into a protective sleeve. They clipped onto a specially designed belt that hung just below her breasts. This made maneuvering during combat much easier. For extra measure, Seika grabbed a pair of USP .40 caliber pistols and slid them into thigh holsters. The target was just as adept with firearms as he was with martial arts. Seika made sure to cover all of the bases this time.

  “Hey woman,” the young Russian shouted. Kurtis walked up to her working area with the grenade launcher still in tow. “They’re checking out that car we dumped. Do you have a map?”

  He was being surprisingly cunning for such a hot-blooded individual. Seika stood up and reached into a filing cabinet. From there she pulled out a four-foot wide map of the greater Los Angeles area and pressed it down on her empty bench.

  “We’re here.” Her finger pointed just north of Pico Rivera. “FBI Headquarters is east of us approximately twenty miles away.” She dragged her finger North-East along the map. “That vehicle is over here. Distance approximately seven miles.”

  “I’ve got some even better news,” added Kurtis. “They’re being escorted by police officers. Three squad cars.”

  Suddenly the grenade launcher was sounding like a better idea by the second. Seika recalculated the route using her knowledge and experience of common police tactics. This would actually make things a bit easier.

  “They’ll take the freeway. It’ll be easier to track oncoming threats that way. They’re still under the belief that this is supposed to be a subtle assassination. That is our advantage.” Seika’s finger slid across the trail she believed they would take. “Highway 60 is the quickest route. The South Hacienda exit leads directly towards Colima but it doesn’t connect directly to the freeway exit. They’ll have to cut through 3 Palms Road. Right before it hits into a residential district, that’s where we’ll strike.” Her finger stopped right on the Corner of Hacienda and 3 Palms Road.

  Her strategy was clean and well thought out. All it needed was for Kurtis to throw a little mayhem into the mix. “What’s on that corner?”

  Checking the map application on her phone, Seika downloaded the layout of that area.

  “A gas station on one side, a church on the other. Plenty of opportunities to do damage. It’ll also make for a messy getaway should things get intense.”

  “Let’s take two vehicles then,” said Kurtis lifting himself off of the bench.

  There was a nice seat atop a black Kawasaki Ninja ZX-6R that called his name. On the wall a pair of overly thick motorcycle jackets complimented the vehicle. Kurtis donned one and noticed it had a safe feeling to it. Most jackets of this type were lined with a bit of Kevlar for added protection. This one felt like it could block artillery fire.

  Kurtis slung the grenade launcher over his shoulder. The strap bounced sharply and then fell silent. A matching helmet was nearby. He grabbed it with his free arm. Looking over at Seika, Kurtis formed a devilish grin. His eyes burned with anticipation.

  “You made the strategy. I’ll bring the chaos.”

  Seika listened to Kurtis’ plan. It was deplorable, sickening, and utterly hazardous. Also, probably the most effective and brilliant method of assassination Seika ever imagined she would hear emanate from his lips. Evil never sounded so good.

  Driving on the freeway in the back seat of a police car wasn’t Michael’s idea of security. The sun had already set. Things looked good so far yet somehow he just couldn’t feel at ease. The thought of a spy within their organization made Michael nervous. Like he couldn’t trust anyone. Present company excluded of course.

  Meryl was the one that saved his life. And he hadn’t even thanked her for it. If it wasn’t for her intervention, Michael wouldn’t have to worry about a mole. He’d be dead.

  No time to think about things that could have been. Michael went over some of the documents Meryl had given him. The level of detail was fairly extensive but not impossible to go through. Nobody on these pages rang any bells. Whoever this was might be a first time offender or covert enough to never get caught.

  “None of these guys seem to stand out. No criminal records. No tax issues. Some of these guys were even given awards. By our own government for crying out loud,” Meryl read.

  They were thinking on the same wavelength again. Maybe she was right. Then again, those who held the most upstanding backgrounds might be worth looking into. Someone who attempts to look that good could be hiding something very nasty.

  “Ten names are worth investigating. Their backgrounds are linked to biochemistry or pharmaceuticals.” Michael circled the names on the list and handed it to Meryl.

  Looking through this shortened list now eased Meryl’s heart. Much more manageable.

  “Sounds good to me.”

  Since there was no more research they could do from here it was time to switch topics. Meryl hadn’t asked about
it before fearing what they had talked about earlier. Now was a better time than any. “So what happened at Colima?”

  Michael hesitated. This was going to tug at Meryl’s heart strings. “Squad car was abandoned. A friendly drove by and found two bodies. One police officer and civilian. Estimated cause of death is extreme blunt force trauma to the chest and back.”

  Extreme blunt force trauma probably was more painful than it sounded. “Were they assaulted with a blunt object? Run down with a car?”

  “Neither. E.M.T.s on site reported hand and feet marks in specific areas on the victims’ bodies.”

  “Someone killed these two with their bare hands?”

  He didn’t say a single word. A man capable of this kind of strength is dangerous in their own right. Pair him up with one of the world’s deadliest assassins and you’ve got the equation for the perfect hit team. The fact that Michael survived the first round was either luck or they were simply toying with him.

  Michael still looked like he was unsure of something. Possibly even worried. Hearing about an enemy that powerful would make anyone nervous. Finding out he was after your life specifically only made it worse. This gave Meryl precedence to ease his tension.

  “Don’t over exert yourself Michael. Remember, I’m here too. You can count on me.”

  That was very reassuring to hear, albeit predictable. No matter how much time has passed, Meryl seemed to stay put. She was still as sweet as ever. However, Michael wouldn’t easily succumb to the fear of death. Not until he completed his mission. There was plenty of time to die later.

  “We’re approaching the exit now Agent Madison. About another half mile then about fifteen minutes to the crime scene.”

  Time passed quickly. The assassins wouldn’t be stupid enough to attack them in the presence of twenty armed police officers. Perhaps the threat was over for the day. Michael placed the pages of his notes on the floor and tried to relax for a change.