Spy Games (Tarnished Heroes)

by Bristol, Sidney

  “What’s this going to tell us?” Mitch sat in the chair, phone in hand.

  “Carol discovered that every time the server sends your email a message, it’s immediately pinged again. Now, you might think that’s the work computer and your cell phone, but Carol thinks—”

  “Charlie.” Mitch sat up a little straighter. “We used to share a top secret, joint inbox until too many things went wrong. Messages were routed from my email to this secondary inbox.”

  “What went wrong with Charlie?”

  “A lot. Little things mostly. It got us wondering, who could we trust? Was someone sabotaging us? Charlie was worried someone would access his personnel files and pass on the information. So we…changed them. A little.” He scrubbed a hand over his face. “I knew when they sent the body that it wouldn’t match. Not anymore. That was the point. Make him not the person we know. And then… Oh God, this is all screwed up.”

  “Mitch, password, please?” Carol leaned forward, her face lit by the laptop screen.

  “Right.” He tapped at his phone. “There.”

  “Irene, will you send him an email?”

  Irene tapped out a test message and hit send. They all waited in silence. The message left her outbox.

  “Got it,” Mitch announced.

  “There’s the secondary ping, which is…now being rejected.” Carol glanced up. “I think it’s safe to say that Mitch isn’t our mole.”

  “Ping? What ping?” Mitch frowned.

  “I mean…” Carol glanced at Irene.

  “Explain.” Irene gestured at Mitch.

  “The server is receiving two requests for new messages right now. One of them is your phone, and the other, I don’t know. Your work computer is powered off. Can you think of anything else?” Carol shrugged.

  “No. I only get email on my desktop and phone. That’s it.”

  “Except for this secret, joint account,” Irene said.

  “Who—who could have done this?” Mitch glanced between them, eyes wide.

  “If Charlie isn’t dead, why hasn’t he made contact yet?” Irene asked. She hated to point fingers, but so far the one person they couldn’t account for was their only solution.

  “No. No, Charlie wouldn’t.” Mitch stared at the coffee table without seeing it.

  Irene didn’t say anything, and neither did Carol. They didn’t have to. The war of reality was being played out on Mitch’s face.

  Charlie was their mole.

  Or at least a mole.

  And now, most likely, a free agent. One with infinite knowledge of how they worked, who their people were and what their weaknesses were. He was their worst nightmare.

  …

  Rand jumped from the boat to the dock.

  It’d taken them a while to maneuver the little speedboat into the marina and find a place to dock between the huge cargo ships.

  Sarah was here somewhere; the key was finding her before it was too late. As soon as the Chinese figured out their man was captured, they’d have to act. Remove the threat, get her out of the country, something. Which meant Rand and his little team couldn’t hesitate.

  “We split up.” Rand turned in a circle. “Matt, come with me. Noah, Andy, you guys take the south side of the marina, we’ll go north. Check in every fifteen minutes.”

  “Hold up. You aren’t going in there with a pop gun and a Rambo knife.” Noah turned to the speedboat’s bench seat and pulled it up. “These white supremacist guys like to keep everything fully stocked. This gig has a few perks.” He tossed a black vest at Matt, then two more at Andy and Rand.

  “Kevlar is standard issue for them? Really?” Matt asked.

  “These guys think everyone is out to get them.” Noah dug down deeper and hauled out two long, black cases. He grinned. “Suit up, boys. I might have planned ahead for this.”

  If Rand didn’t need Noah as back up, he might have decked the stupid smile right off his face. This wasn’t an adventure, they weren’t out for thrills. This was a woman’s life. Someone who mattered to Rand and Matt, but Noah didn’t know what it was to actually care for a human being.

  “Lighten up. We’re going to get your girl back.” Noah handed the sleek assault rifle up to Rand.

  Shit.

  If this was what Noah could ferret away without raising suspicions, Rand didn’t want to know what else these people were holding onto. It wasn’t his problem right now, though. Getting Sarah back safe was.

  Once they were outfitted with what Noah had to offer, Rand and Matt headed for the north side of the marina. They couldn’t just blend in. They had to go unseen, which meant slow going.

  “You’ve made some interesting friends,” Matt said after a while.

  “They aren’t my friends.”

  “Right, because you don’t need friends. My bad.”

  “That’s—” Rand sighed. “I work with Andy and Noah when I have to. It doesn’t mean I like them. They…aren’t like us.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “Andy’s…broken. Noah might as well be an adrenaline addict. I just want to do the right thing.”

  “That’s the pot calling the kettle black if I ever heard it. You’re such a goddamn martyr, Rand, you know that?”

  He didn’t bother replying to that question. He wasn’t a martyr. Sure, he’d done some things wrong, he could have done better, but he’d made the choices he had based on what he thought was best for everyone. His mistakes had long ripples.

  “We all make mistakes, Rand. It was war. Shit happens. Get over yourself.”

  “You think I don’t know that?” He turned, and Matt nearly walked into him.

  “I’m not sure you do.”

  “The difference is, when I make mistakes, people die. Sarah will die if we screw up. Get it? You could have died. Emily could have died. Your kids. Your parents. Because I screwed up.”

  “It’s not always about you.”

  “It’s about Sarah, okay?”

  “Not even that. Look—I don’t know what the hell’s going on here, but I find it really hard to believe you’re totally at fault for this. For before. For anything. Don’t tell me, but ask yourself who else is responsible?”

  Rand couldn’t tell Matt about the mole. About any of it. But he was right. Someone had burned Sarah, sold out their country, and now whoever that person was, they were working against them. It could be Irene. Hector. Mitch. Hell, for all Rand knew it could be Noah, Andy, or even Matt.

  They’d been stuck reacting to what was going on. Even now, they were responding to Sarah’s abduction and the knowledge that the house was being watched. What Rand wouldn’t give to strike back. To do something.

  “I’m not going to pretend that I like the idea of my best friend with my sister. Just—let’s bring her home first?”

  My best friend.

  Even on his good days, he’d never thought to hear Matt say those words again.

  “Come on.” Rand turned and strode through the shadows.

  They could figure everything out when they found Sarah again. If they found her at all. So far, all he’d seen was a sleepy security guard.

  This felt wrong.

  There was no movement, no one around, nothing going on.

  Rand’s gut said they were at a dead end. Still, they went on, creeping through one warehouse then another, peering at empty ships. A few lights were on here and there, but not enough movement to indicate more than a single person was around.

  His pocket vibrated. He ducked into an alcove between shipping containers. Matt moved into the opening, watching the coast.

  Rand pressed the phone to his ear. “Yeah?”

  “I’m guessing we found them. Ship on the south end, maybe two hundred yards from where we split. Couple vehicles idling, and a large presence on the boat.”

  “On our way.” Rand ended the call.

  “They found her?” Matt asked.

  “Maybe. This way.” Rand wove through the shipping containers, keepi
ng the water to their left.

  It took them longer than Rand would have liked, but he understood almost immediately why his instincts were on target about the north end of the marina. The farther south they went, the more activity they ran into.

  At least two vehicles came and went. The guys loitering at the dock entrance weren’t just bored men off-shift. They were plainclothes guards.

  Suffice to say, they’d found where Sarah was being held.

  “Rand.”

  He peered into the thick darkness up against the nearest warehouse between the next set of crates and the road.

  Andy and Noah.

  Rand slipped into position next to them with Matt close on his heels.

  “About a dozen men watching the dock and the ship.” Andy tilted his head toward Rand without taking his eyes off the boat. “Two people just left.”

  “Could you ID them?”

  “Two guys in suits. I haven’t seen Wei or Sarah.”

  “Too bad we can’t just call in the cops,” Noah said. He was right. Technically, the Coast Guard was who they’d need to rope in, and even then they’d have to wade through the red tape to get permission to board. In that time, Sarah could disappear.

  “We’re going to have an exposed approach no matter how we do this,” Andy said.

  “I vote we hide in one of these crates and one of us sacrifices himself to drive us down there in a forklift.” Noah’s white teeth were easy to spot in the darkness. If he were closer, Rand might have tried punching one out. “No, but seriously, I’ve got one silencer. I could snipe the deck watchers if you guys can handle those two dock guards. Thoughts?”

  “That’s messy, and you stand as much of a chance hitting us as them.” Andy spoke more like a robot than a human. Almost all the life was just gone from behind those eyes. The man was broken.

  “Give me some credit. I’m a damn good shot.”

  “Let me do it,” Matt said softly.

  “No,” Rand said on instinct.

  “Come on, Rand. You know I can.”

  “I don’t want you to do it.”

  “Noah would be more useful in hand-to-hand.” Andy peered past Rand. “No offense.”

  “I’ve only got one hand to offer for that kind of thing, but I only need one to shoot.” Matt crouched, facing them.

  “Have you fired a gun since…?” Rand didn’t want any more blood on Matt’s hands. If he had his way, Matt wouldn’t be there.

  “Every week.”

  “Fuck,” Rand muttered. “Give it to him.”

  He didn’t have to like the plan. Hell, it might not last half a minute in execution, but they had to do something, and Matt always had been one hell of a shot even in the worst of conditions. It didn’t get much worse than this. All they needed was for a monsoon to hit.

  The sky lit up in a brilliant display of lightning while thunder reverberated through the clouds.

  Well, hell.

  …

  Sarah knotted the bits of remnant rope together.

  “Good,” Charlie said.

  Bad didn’t begin to describe the alarming way he breathed, the swollen eye, or anything about the way he moved. Still, he was a brilliant, resourceful mind, and his knowledge might be their ticket out of here.

  “I got the window loosened.” He gestured to the window he’d been lying under. “If you push open the glass, you should be able to use the rope to open the bars.”

  “Why would they put us in a room you could get out of so easily?”

  “It’s a cargo hold, not a cell.” He gestured at the window. “Go on.”

  “Charlie, what’re they going to do to you?”

  “Doesn’t matter. Only thing that does is you destroying the protocols. Go, before they come back.”

  She hated that because of her fuck-ups, because someone had burned her, Charlie would likely end up dead. It wasn’t fair. Not one bit.

  Sarah crossed to the window. She had to stand on tiptoe to pull the thick, murky glass open. Even then the hinges protested. He must have had to pry the catch loose back in the beginning, before they hurt him this badly.

  What she wouldn’t do to have Andy in her pocket right now. She was starting to lose her adversity to vigilante justice.

  “Got it?” Charlie asked.

  “I’m kind of short. Give me a minute.” She fed the rope out of the window, through the bars.

  The handle for the protective bars was above the window on the outside. She grasped the knotted loop between her fingers and focused on the lever above her. She’d have to lasso it just right and then use her weight to pull. It would be an inelegant escape, but she’d make it out. If she didn’t get caught first.

  She tossed the rope up, but it fell short. She reeled the rope back in and tried once more, this time with more doled out. The rope sailed up over the window. She winced and tugged it back, but it’d caught on something.

  Sarah twisted, peering up.

  “I…think I got it.” She couldn’t tell exactly, but it seemed as though the loop had fallen around the lever on its descent.

  “Okay, you’ll want to stand to the right and pull. It’s probably stuck, so I’ll have to help you.” Charlie pushed up into a sitting position.

  “Stop. Just…stay right there. If they ask if you helped me, this way you can say no.” She knew they’d still likely kill him, but she could hope for a swift, painless death at least.

  Charlie eased back down, his head pillowed on a canvas bag, watching her.

  Sarah wrapped the rope around her hand and pivoted. She grasped it up closer to the bars and took a deep breath. This was for Charlie. For her family. And for the innocents who would die. She hauled back, pulling with her full weight.

  But nothing happened.

  She tugged, practically holding herself up by virtue of the rope. “Come on,” she grunted.

  Was it her imagination or—

  The rope went slack and she fell, landing hard on her ass.

  “Did you get it?” Charlie asked.

  She picked up her wounded pride and climbed back to her feet. The rope likely broke, and they were out of options.

  Just to appease Charlie, she pushed at the bars. The window protector moved. The hinges protested, but it swung outward.

  “Holy shit,” she muttered.

  It wasn’t a big window, but she could fit through that. Charlie could, too, if he were better off.

  “You got it. Go, Sarah. Go now.”

  She dragged an empty, plastic box over to the window. “I’ll come back for you, and we’ll go together.”

  “Don’t do that. Go. Get to the case. That’s more important.”

  Maybe it was, but if they were going out, they might as well do it on their own terms. If she died, she wanted to know it stood for something. Charlie would, too.

  She peered out into the darkness, listening past the sound of the water and wind, for the movement of people. They hadn’t yet seen a patrol or anyone coming by at random.

  Sarah waited for a count of ten.

  Still, nothing.

  She stepped up onto the box and again listened. No one was jumping out to get her.

  Sarah leaned her upper body out through the window. The deck was much lower than the room she and Charlie were being held in. She couldn’t get a leg out without some serious acrobatics.

  “Here, I can give you a boost.” Charlie touched her hip.

  She started and glanced back. The water must be playing tricks on her because she hadn’t heard his wheeze or the sound of his step.

  “Thanks.”

  Charlie grasped her by the knee and after a count to three, boosted her up until she sat on the window ledge. She was able to pull one leg, then the other out and jump lightly to the deck. She crouched in the darkness, waiting, listening.

  Shouldn’t someone be watching them? Or did the Chinese know she was as ill-prepared for this as she did?

  Either way, they’d made a mistake putting her in the same r
oom with Charlie.

  Sarah picked her way by feel down the side of the ship. Clouds had rolled in, blocking out much of the early morning light.

  Before much longer, there would be other people around. Potential victims. She needed to be long gone before those people arrived.

  Sarah found an unlocked door and stepped into the light. She held her breath and again listened. Voices echoed as if from a great distance, and still, no footsteps.

  What was going on?

  Something had to be happening, right?

  Or was this how these types of things went down?

  She followed the hall, peering into darkened rooms. They’d kept her hooded until they were inside, and even then, she wasn’t sure she knew the way except from the cargo hold where Charlie was. That’d been…to her left.

  At the first fork, she turned. The hall was darker, but somewhere up ahead Charlie had to be waiting for her. She’d get him free and then figure out where the briefcase was on her own. Charlie could still get free, find help.

  She took another left when the hall intersected another. This was slightly familiar. She opened the door at the end, right up against the window, and peered inside.

  A man stood in the middle of the room. The thicker clouds blocked out more of the light.

  “Charlie?”

  “I told you to go on without me.” Charlie limped toward her.

  “I didn’t know where I was going. I figured I needed to come back here to retrace my steps anyway. There’s a door that way. You should go.”

  “And let you have all the fun? Never.” He nudged her back, down the hall. “Where’s the last place you saw the case?”

  “Wait. Charlie.” She tugged him back against the wall. “We have to be careful.”

  “I know, but we likely don’t have much time.” He squeezed her hand. “I’ll go first.”

  She didn’t like that, but he knew what he was doing more than she did.

  They wound their way through rooms and down hallways, poking their heads into one after the other. She’d thought she knew where they were going, but after a couple turns she was all twisted around. Still, they kept going. Sometimes the muttered voices came closer, sometimes they faded.