by L. M. Vila
Michael, on the other hand, opted for philosophy as an answer. Something he had learned during his first few months on the job. “Hope for the best. Plan for the worst.”
Meryl was suddenly reminded about her mother and wondered if Michael was trying to tease her in some way. Joking aside, they moved quickly through the parking lot, doubling their previous pace.
A short road separated them from the building. More lights covered the area. After another quick glance of Michael’s attire she realized that they looked much more conspicuous than they did before. There was no telling what would go down if they got caught.
Thankfully, all was quiet on the southern end of the building. A new question struck Meryl. This one pertained to their grand entrance.
“How are we going to get in without them noticing us?”
That almost seemed like an odd question. Then again, Michael had completely forgotten that this was Meryl’s first day. She probably hadn’t even been toured through the building. They worked so well together that the little details seemed to fade away.
“Rear entrance, used for smoking.” Michael drew closer to the door and pointed right above it. “We need to disable the camera.”
An idea slapped Meryl right in the face. “I’ve got it.” She reached in her pocket and pulled out a black handkerchief. Stepping out of the camera’s pointed view, Meryl propped herself against the wall and covered the lens with the cloth. She dropped down while saying, “Go for it.”
Michael swiped his keycard. It wouldn’t be long for someone from security to recognize his arrival. If the plan worked they would be bracing for a head on attack from an enemy. Someone who didn’t know the building would be lost. Lucky for them, Michael knew exactly where to go and the quickest way to get there.
They entered fast. Michael kept a brisk walking pace which Meryl easily mimicked. The building was relatively quiet but more so than normal. They maneuvered through the kitchen and break area. Michael then asked, “Still armed?”
Popping the gun out of her holster, Meryl inspected it briefly. “At least two left in this clip and an extra mag in my pocket.”
“Keep it drawn.”
With a quick peak, Michael was able to see a good section of the office’s ground floor. Just as he expected, practically empty. It's possible everyone had gathered somewhere, watching the news about what happened.
Bodies began to filter out of a nearby room. Their window of opportunity tightened but this may still work. Once his eyes locked onto a pudgy blonde-haired man, Michael’s adrenaline started to pump.
“Let’s move.”
They emerged and quickly made their way towards the target. Mostly everyone in the office kept their heads down after hearing the dismal news. Many didn’t even notice their movements. This was working much better than expected. Michael continued to push through. Soon, some eyes raised and locked onto him. Shock followed with a symphony of awe. Whispers started which was the immediately got people talking louder. One person shouted.
“Michael?! Is that you?”
Too late. Drawing the attention of the entire building wasn’t planned for but certainly adaptable. Michael had already reached the one that sold them out. And that one greeted the two seemingly dead agents with a distressing look that quickly turned into happiness.
“My god, you’re alive?!”
Steve’s neck felt the tight grip of Michael’s arm as it shot out and pushed him against the wall. He grabbed the agent’s muscular trunk and tried desperately to fight it off.
“Traitor...” Michael menacingly scoffed. His eyes began changing color into a shade of crimson. Rage masked his expression as Michael’s brow tightened. He lifted Steve off the ground, holding him afloat with only one hand.
Quick gasps sounded Steve’s distress. His face was turning red quickly. Words couldn’t escape properly to plead his case. They were soon surrounded by more agents and staff. Meryl stood back to back with Michael, her weapon still out and pointed to the ground. She firmly believed they had a good reason for doing this. Hearing him pray for mercy was convincing her otherwise.
“Michael!” Yelled another. One with authority. He recognized it immediately.
Steve dropped to the ground choking for the sweet taste of air that eluded him for almost a second too long. The audience drew concern for his well being but before they approached, Michael’s intimidating stance waved them back
Quickly making her way through the mob, Nicole verified what the sudden rumors had stated. Michael and Meryl were alive. Relief filtered in. Way too much stress to deal with in a single day.
Presumably, they had evidence that the fallen staff member was the cause for their recent series of tragedies. Nicole never expected this particular man to be the mole but if Michael was convinced then so was she.
“Are you two all right?” She asked checking their figures thoroughly.
They weren’t stained with blood thankfully but signs of combat left their mark on Meryl’s outfit. Michael’s attire, on the other hand, had been ditched for something more suitable for warfare.
Meryl spoke at Michael’s behest. “We engaged the enemy en route to the accident. They escaped by destroying a gas station. We barely made it alive and told the arriving officers to list us as dead. That way we could get a drop on the mole when we arrived back here.”
The reasoning was sound, even if Nicole didn’t like their methods. Now there was just one question she had. “How did you know it was Steve?”
“Because he’s the only one who knew where we were going. He even told us where to go.”
Still plagued by coughing fits, Steve came to his own defense. “I can explain.”
Michael’s combat boot came forward and planted directly against the traitor’s throat. His words grew fiercer. “Take him to interrogation. I’ll find out everything he knows,” he pressed his foot down further on Steve’s fragile neck. “One way or another.”
“Before that,” another voice cut in.
Everyone’s attention was soon staring at the unknown man in the black suit. He made his way through the crowd and was privileged to see his government competitors acting like animals. It was for this reason and more which made this visit particularly enjoyable.
Michael gave the man his semi-divided attention. Watching the traitor squirm was of particular interest. If he drew a weapon, Michael wanted to be prepared for it.
The man walked up and flashed the same identification he had shown the Assistant Director earlier. Suddenly, Michael felt had another reason to be angry. This man was about to ruin his entire investigation.
“My name is Matthew Sanders. I’m with the Central Intelligence Agency. We need to talk.”
Michael suddenly placated what his next few minutes would bring. None of the scenarios that came to mind sounded pleasant.
Late nights were usually a common occurrence for the owner of A.N.K.H. Pharmaceuticals. Especially during this hectic relocation. Normally the General would stay until at least eight o’clock at night but today was different. He wasn’t going anywhere until the job was done. His subordinates were ordered to stay as well for the same reason. They stuck with Yegor through thick and thin. He believed this was good for branding loyalty and uncovering deadbeats.
The building was especially dreary at this time of night. Construction had ended a couple of hours ago. Everyone had already left for the evening. Since most of the interior hasn’t been finished, many floors stood lifeless and dark. Only this floor, the main laboratory, server room, and lobby were equipped with lights. It was sad how short millions of dollars could take you in this era.
Impatience grew quickly. The General tickled his fingers on the keyboard waiting for the phone to ring. As soon as that call arrived, he could rest easy tonight and begin anew tomorrow. Such a simple plan that has spiraled into something so horrible. The pharmaceutical business was a rough one. But it reminded Yegor of his times in the military. Except this time he had an edge over his en
emies.
That miracle drug is going to change the world. And allow him to control most of it. Yegor had many plans for that little formula. He couldn’t believe the Americans let this one slip through the cracks. They believed Russian intelligence didn’t exist. Little did they know that one of Yegor’s finest had delivered him the formula for this substance personally, days before the facility was burned to the ground.
America would pay dearly for their oversight once the cure for every deadly disease known to man is released by his company. The corrupt health-care industry will fall to their knees. His goal was relatively simple. Eliminate the competition, replace them, and then make the people beg for his medicine. The one thing everyone in this country valued more than money was their health. Yegor was sure they would give anything just to feel secure in their own bodies.
The electrical beast awoke. His office phone rang sharply, breaking the serenity that had been built in the last couple of hours. The General calmly lifted his hand over to the phone. A quick glance at the caller ID listed the number as restricted.
“Go ahead.” The General spoke calmly.
On the other line, a voice quickly relayed information. Yegor nodded his head and took each statement as it came, restricting judgment or emotion until they were finished. Every second that passed worked against his favor. The situation had taken a turn for the worse. Drastic measured must be considered.
“Is that so? That is very disappointing.” Yegor briefly exhaled. His mind was running rampant. “Then it looks like we are out of options. I will make arrangements here. I must leave him in your hands now.”
The voice on the other end added more information. Yegor could tell they sounded worried. As if they were trying to speak yet not appear like they were speaking. This would only further complicate matters. His response alleviated most of those concerns.
“It must be done. By any means necessary.”
His words ended any hesitation the caller was feeling. They made one last request. Yegor humbly agreed.
“Anything for you.”
He knew damn well what they were getting into. But this opportunity couldn’t be wasted. His last words were ones of praise and apprehension.
“Good luck moemu rebenku.”
Plastic slammed against plastic. The General put the handset down lightly, trying to maintain a positive composure and outlook. There was no denying the information he was told. That person had never failed him once. Everything the General had worked so hard to create could be torn down in a single moment. Contingencies had to be established. One that he thought was never going to be used.
Yegor picked up the phone and dialed Roman’s extension. His old friend answered faster than he thought.
“Yes General.”
“Come into my office. Don’t knock.”
Moments later Roman came through the door quicker than his old body was capable of. He immediately took a seat without the General’s request. There was no time for formalities.
“What do you need General?”
Yegor took a deep breath. He pushed himself away from his desk and stood up to admire the half-moon glaring down at him. “It would seem that our young warrior has failed us yet again.”
Panic struck Roman. His eyes shot open. “That can’t be true!”
“Are you calling me a liar, old friend?”
He let his feelings get the better of him. Roman spoke way out of turn. Lucky for him, the General paid it no mind and continued.
“I fear it is time to pull the plug on our little project. This company can no longer afford to fund his mistakes. We will need to relieve ourselves of this mess and begin anew tomorrow.”
Roman chose his words a bit wiser this time. “Surely this is a misunderstanding. If Kurtis were only given another chance.”
The General responded with a serious of well thought out questions.
“What do you call a weapon that always misses its target no matter how close you are firing? What do you call a computer that receives your commands but performs different actions? What do you call a vehicle that turns on but does not take you anywhere?”
Words could not be found to counter the General’s sentiments. Roman refused to answer. He knew where this was going. His participation would be hard pressed at best.
“I believe the word you are looking for is, defective.”
That part was a lie. Kurtis was not a defect. He was a glorious human being who did exactly as he was asked. Loyalty was his most promising trait. The fact the General was overlooking this key feature started to build emotions the old man had not felt in quite some time. Unfortunately, the condescending remarks had only begun.
“It is a pity. He was a promising candidate. Too bad he couldn’t live up to the design.”
Holding that much weight on anyone was asking far too much. Roman could not stay silent as the General insulted his loved one. The only he could do was defend the honor of Kurtis. There was nothing he had left in this world.
“But sir, we knew that he wasn’t going to be the same. The drug -” His words were silenced by Yegor’s overbearing voice.
“Did exactly what it was supposed to. The design is flawless. His previous results proved this much.” Yegor moved to face his old friend. His body mere inches from the desk. “However, no matter how much you manipulate the body, the heart still remains.”
Powerful words. Yet Roman was still unconvinced.
“Kurtis still has potential. If only - “
The slowly built anger swept fully through the General. “If nothing! Kurtis is flawed. Time to cut our losses.”
That was the nail in the coffin. The old man prayed he would never hear those words. Memories of the past began building. Roman’s horrible sin played back in his mind. The only method of atonement he had left was through Kurtis. He lived to serve him. Now his only reason to live was being taken away.
“You cannot be serious,” Roman choked. “We can’t give up on him.”
“We certainly can. Technology gave Kurtis his power.” Yegor placed both hands on the desk and leered in at Roman. “And it can do so for another one.”
Defeat set in. Roman’s body was not responding well to the news. Nor his heart. One failed mission later and the dream was dead. He stifled his emotions the best he could. The General apparently still had more to say.
“When they return, order Kurtis to eliminate the woman. My men will finish him off and dispose of their bodies. No matter how hard they search, the authorities will be unable to link them to us. And dead people tell no tales.”
The plan was good as always. Somehow Roman had difficulty acknowledging it out loud. He wanted to be dismissed. There were things he still wanted to do. In private of course.
“Is that all, General?”
Yegor noticed sorrow from his response. Perhaps this old dog has heard enough bad news for one day. His loyalty was still highly regarded. There is no one Yegor trusted more than Roman.
“There is one more small thing to take care of,” The General answered as he sat back down. “You’re going to need to do a bit of rewiring. I have to get my hands dirty later.”
Those words were not as comforting as Roman would have liked to hear. The General outlined the work required, covering every tiny detail. The most shocking being the intended target. A tragic way to reward betrayal. This was the General at his best. No one dared to cross him. No one.
McCrae’s office was stuffy. One too many bodies in here. It didn’t sit well with Michael. There a mole that needed interrogated and yet here he stood. At the beck and whim of another suit from a different agency. The irony was thick. That was for sure. It’s a good compliment for what this man has to say.
“Before you go insinuating anything about my visit Agent Madison, let me tell you that it is my absolute privilege to come down here in the middle of your childhood scuffle, taking time out of my already busy schedule just to deliver a message.”
He was a pretentious little
prick that was for sure. Meryl was sharing Michael’s silent disdain. She knew the FBI and CIA had a bit of a ‘friendly’ rivalry going. The rumors didn’t do the reality any justice.
Agent Sanders peered at a few photographs in the room. As if his full attention was not required. “Let’s cut to the chase before we trade insults about departmental jurisdiction. We know what you’re up to. We know the details of your assignment, what areas you’ve visited, even the amount of gas you spent on travel. That being said, the case you were working on, whatever that may be, is under CIA authority.” He moved towards the combat dressed agent. “Ergo, your case is now our case. End of story.”
Michael noticed Sanders chose his words carefully. As if he were trying to hide something yet not at the same time. Archetypal for the CIA now that he thought about it. While he continued to ponder, The Commander immediately came to their defense.
“You’ve got a lot of nerve coming in here and belittling our staff. They might not have the same privileges to information as you do but they’re the ones busting their asses out there and risking their lives. Not your people.”
An honorable defense. Still, not a very good one. Sanders had already prepared for backlash. “Believe me, Commander. While you’ve been working this case for days, we’ve been on it for months. You have no idea who you’re after yet. We’ve got them right where we want them. Our goal here isn’t to steal assignments. I’m just making sure you don’t screw anything up for us.”
“If you knew all of this, why didn’t you inform us before we conducted our own investigation?” Nicole served him back hard. He couldn’t answer them honestly without being a little rough. Once again, the CIA agent followed through with an excellent return.
“You want me to lie and say we didn’t want to use you? It saves us time and money, sure. But as soon as it got a little rough, I came down here to protect you, now didn’t I? The situation has changed. It’s no longer necessary to place your agents’ lives on the line. Leave it to my guys. We’ll take it from here.”
“Yea right,” Meryl whispered in Michael’s direction. It was a little louder than she thought because right after she said it, Agent Sanders turned to face her.
