by Peter Hoole
The only part of the document that Leon recognised as true, was the photo. According to the small book, Leon was a Canadian resident, from Maple Ridge, British Columbia. He had been born on July ninth, 1981. Do I really look that old? He thought.
His name, according to his documentation, was Frederick Jerome Crenshaw. As he was leaving the country, it would be easier to pass through the security area, as the officials would ask fewer questions.
He arrived at the desk and managed to conjure up a smile.
Now all he had to do was wait.
After finding his gate and a place to sit, Leon reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone.
He dialled the only number stored in the memory of the phone.
“Leon?” The Englishman answered on the first ring.
“Yes,” Leon replied.
“Are you through?”
“Of course.” Leon smiled, the confidence he’d experienced after yesterday’s task returning.
“Good. We have the location and have made the drop-box. You’ll need to get it done fast. Check your email. All the details are there. Use the cipher from the London office. Call me when you arrive, okay?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Good luck, Leon. Remember… you get this done, and your family’s future is assured.”
Leon smiled at the last comment, “I won’t let you down, sir.”
“I know you won’t”.
With that, the Englishman hung up.
Buoyed by the conversation, Leon turned off his phone, opened his laptop and settled it the table he had sat down at.
Using a mobile broadband stick, he opened his email account – a private website that had firewalls in place. The only email he had was from the same name all his emails came from on this account – Molyneux Industries. There was no text in the body of the email, just an attachment. The attachment appeared to be a normal JPEG, but Leon knew this was a disguise. He opened the attachment, and a pop-up asked for the Entry Code. He entered the cipher from London, as the Englishman had told him.
The attachment expanded into three documents.
The first was a map of greater Los Angeles. There were two points indicated. The first marked by a star, indicating the target location. The second marked by a circle, indicating the drop-box.
The second document was a set a building schematics, no doubt those for the target location. It had an apartment on the second floor highlighted.
Leon opened the third document and what he saw surprised him. The image of the woman was beautiful, reminding him briefly of Josie.
This girl was different to his wife though, with much shorter brunette hair, which barely covered her ears.
The other feature t stood out were her eyes. Although a beautiful shade of green, it was the kindness in them that stood out. Leon suspected the woman could easily have been a model or an actress, destined for a future of parading down catwalks or shining on the big screen.
Leon knew, however, that this wasn’t the case. This woman had no future – she was his target. She was the only thing standing between his family and their future.
She must die, he thought.
Leon glanced at the words printed at the bottom of the picture.
“Priority Target”, the sentence began.
He read her name.
“Darcy Chamberlain.”
The Englishman sat silent after he hung up the phone. He had worked with Leon for the past few years. For all that time, he’d kept some vital aspects of the plan from him. It would have been a mistake to provide Leon with all of its major aspects. However, he did need to share some information.
Leon knew what was happening under Haven, the town where they’d disposed of the reporter the previous night. And he also knew the basics of the overall plan.
What the Englishman was contemplating now, was the next step to take with Leon. He had no doubt Leon would complete his task. He had confidence the female reporter would be dead within the next twenty-four hours.
Unfortunately for Leon, the Englishman was now contemplating whether he would be of benefit to the plan in the long-term. After it all came to fruition, would Leon and his family help, or hinder the cause?
It was a question the Englishman had been mulling over for several months. He was receiving pressure from the Council, to ensure his final group was ready in time. How much time he had left, he didn’t know. All the Englishman knew, was that he had to be sure Leon was a capable and appropriate choice for the next phase.
Last night, Leon had performed well, and the Englishman’s confidence in him had grown.
The Englishman had been monitoring Leon’s progress the previous day, and, despite Leon’s mistake of forgetting the jamming signal, the Englishman was able to scramble the images the reporter sent to his contact. He’d also managed to hack Darcy Chamberlain’s email account and attach a further file, one that when activated, would send them a GPS tracking signal.
With this, the Englishman had located Darcy Chamberlain, and using his contact in the FBI, had gathered all the information available on their subject.
Leon had done well with the execution last night, but not nearly well enough in protecting the overall plan.
So now – so close to beginning Phase Two, the Englishman had to make a decision.
He pulled his cell phone from his jacket pocket, and chose the number he’d dialled many times previously.
The phone rang only once, and a familiar voice answered.
“William?” asked the Canadian voice.
“Hello Pierre,” William responded. “How are things faring in Zone Three?”
“Things are progressing well. We’ve got an asset in place to take out the plane. Hopefully, we’ll have the go-ahead on that soon. How are things in ‘One’? Still keeping it all safe?”
“Indeed we are. I just need your help with something.”
“Of course,” replied Pierre. “Anything for the cause.”
William smiled. His old friend had never let him down before. They were bound by something that withstood any and all outside pressure. They were bound by their faith in the plan. They would both be beneficiaries of the outcome, assured by the Council. And with Phase Two so close, they would both do anything necessary to see it through.
“I have a new target for you Pierre…” William began, “one of ours.”
“Okay,” said Pierre, not surprised to hear their numbers were being cut down so close to Phase Two. “What are the details?”
“I’ll send you a photograph. He’s could be hard to take out, so whoever you send needs to be good.”
“I’ve got just the guy.”
“Good. The target will be arriving at LAX in about twenty hours…”
Chapter Five
“What do you mean, tracking?” Darcy asked, her eyes firmly focused on the final attachment.
“I’ve seen this before...” Caleb began, “It was in Berlin. We were sent on a mission to retrieve some documents and equipment. Nothing all that interesting, really. Standard stuff. A couple of loose files and some hardware…”
Darcy knew everything about Caleb, except anything related to his work. And for the most part, it didn’t bother her. Such was her relationship with him, she knew he could always be counted on when she needed him.
Darcy knew Caleb was originally from Sacramento and he came from a large, working class family. She knew that he’d always worked hard at school and done well as a result. She knew he had a determination to help people, which was why he’d joined the Marine Corps straight out of high school.
Caleb could have gone to college, even the Naval Academy in Annapolis. But instead, he’d chosen to enlist, and work his way up the hard way.
It was one of the many things that attracted her to him.
In fact, there was very little Darcy didn’t love about Caleb. He was kind, sweet and considerate. Caleb made sure that whenever he was in town, Darcy knew she was his first priority. His smile was her fav
ourite thing, and his physical features were a special bonus.
Standing over six feet, Caleb had the chiselled physique and bone structure that reflected his dedication to his work. He was the strongest person she’d ever met, and she always felt protected in his presence.
It was only Caleb’s work that kept them separated in any way, shape or form.
While on occasion, Darcy did have to travel for work, it was usually only for a few days.
In contrast, Caleb would be gone for weeks at a time. Whenever he returned, he always seemed a bit jaded. After a time, Darcy had accepted that this was her lot. She loved Caleb, and that meant loving everything about him, even when his work took him away from her.
She had always hoped he would one day open up to her about what his job entailed with the marines, and hearing him speak now, she thought perhaps that day had come.
“As part of our brief,” Caleb said, drawing her back from her thoughts, “I examined the laptop before we left the building. I’d been given a picture of the icon I was supposed to search for. I opened up the laptop and saw that icon. It was a target tracker.”
“Wait… you just opened the laptop, everything was open? Surely something like that would have had a security code, or a password, or something?” Darcy asked.
“I’m sure it did…” Caleb replied, “and it would have been unopened, if we hadn’t surprised them, but…” Caleb paused. Never before had he spoken to Darcy about killing a man. He knew she suspected it was part of his work he did when he was away for months at a time, but now, if he admitted to it, it would become part of their lives.
“But… what?” Darcy pressed.
Caleb took a breath. “As part of the mission, we had been ordered to ensure no one would know we’d been there. And if they did, we needed to ensure they didn’t remember us. That means, basically, that the people inside the building needed to be—”
Darcy interrupted, realising what he was alluding to. “Caleb… you had to kill them, didn’t you?” she asked bluntly.
“Yeah. It was our only option,” Caleb admitted, knowing he was crossing a threshold, and he couldn’t step back once he did. Caleb waited for a response.
“Oh… okay. Why didn’t you just tell me the truth?” she asked cautiously.
“I didn’t want to freak you out,” Caleb admitted, feeling relieved to finally be honest with her.
“Caleb… I had already figured out what you must do when you go away. No-one, especially soldiers, gets called away for weeks – weeks without contact – unless they’re doing something important, or dangerous. Or on a secret operation or something. I thought it must be part of what you do.”
Caleb watched her cautiously for a reaction. “And… you’re okay with that?”
Darcy nodded. “Are you?” she asked in return.
Caleb hadn’t been expecting that question, but he was stoic in his response. He’d admitted the worst, there wasn’t much point in keeping anything secret now. “It is the worst of what we do, but sometimes it is necessary.”
Darcy raised a sympathetic smile, relieved to hear that Caleb didn’t enjoy all the aspects of what he did.
“Anyway, I saw the program...” Caleb began, resuming their conversation, “and noticed it was a tracker. When I opened it up, there was a world map, and it had about half a dozen or so places highlighted on the screen. The dots were scattered throughout. Places like Brazil, Canada, Australia…”
“You said it was a tracking program?”
“Yes... I did”
“Should I be worried, Caleb? After all, I did open it.”
“I’m not sure babe.” Caleb frowned. He got up from the bed, walked to the window and opened the blinds slightly, just enough so that he could check outside, to see if there was anything out of place.
As Darcy had only received the email a few hours earlier, Caleb was reasonably sure there hadn’t been enough time for anyone to organise a succinct plan for a hit. But it had him worried. This sort of tracking device – he had no doubt, whoever had planted it, intended to come after Darcy for some reason, but he didn’t want to freak her out too much. Given that Paul had sent the email from the other side of the world, Caleb hoped that meant he had some time to figure out what to do next.
As Caleb peered out at the view of the outside street, the morning sunshine created a yellow hue across the roof of the bodega opposite. Towards the east, there were a couple of the locals going about their business, a postal worker was delivering mail and a dog was barking. To the west, a few more locals were starting their days.
Nothing seemed out of the ordinary.
“I can’t see anything…” Caleb said over his shoulder. “We should probably get out of here anyway, just in case.”
“In case what, Caleb?” Darcy asked curiously.
“I’m not sure, Darc. All I know is that I’ve only ever seen that program once, and I was ordered to capture it. Before we did, I was briefed on what it was and why it was dangerous…”
Darcy knew Caleb was holding back the details of who had given him the orders and who was leading who to places. She trusted him, so she knew he would tell her anything she needed to know, when the time was right.
She was drawn back to the present by the sound of Caleb’s voice. “…so I know we’re in a situation we can’t predict. Not yet, anyway.”
“Okay… so what do we do?” Darcy asked.
“First of all, we need to get dressed. Wear something you can move around in easily. Grab some spare clothes, and make sure you take something warm with you.”
“Where are we going?” asked Darcy, and he could hear the building anxiety in her voice.
Caleb put his hands on her shoulders, offered her a reassuring smile. “It’s okay, babe… I’ll figure it out.” He brushed his lips over hers, kissing her. “We should just get away from here for now. Once we’re somewhere safe, we can regroup, figure out what’s going on.
Darcy did as she was told, grabbing a pair of loose jeans and pulling them on, before slipping her feet into sturdy walking shoes. She donned a singlet and slipped a baseball cap over her hair.
“Ready?” Caleb asked, as he finished dressing.
“Ready enough,” she responded, reaching for the laptop. She never went anywhere without it, but Caleb knew taking it with them would be a mistake.
“No, leave that here for now…” he instructed. “Remember, if they are tracking you, they’re tracking your laptop. They already know where that is.”
“Oh, right. Okay,” she responded, putting the laptop back on the bed.
Caleb grabbed his car keys, snatched up the bags he and Darcy had hurriedly packed, and they left the apartment.
The vibrating phone shook the table, creating enough noise to waken the young man. Swiftly coming to alertness, Matthew snatched up the phone before it fell off the nightstand.
“Matthew?” Pierre announced.
“Pierre?” Matthew replied, surprised by the early morning phone call. “Is it time?”
“No, no. Not yet. I have another task for you, though. One that requires your immediate attention.”
Matthew stifled a yawn. “What is it?”
“I need you to leave now, and get on the next plane to Los Angeles.”
“Okay…” Matthew frowned, wondering what had happened that would need his attention so early in the morning.
“When you arrive, I will provide you with more information.”
“How should I prepare?” asked Matthew, still confused by the remnants of sleep.
“Ensure you have enough equipment for an overnight stay,” Pierre ordered. “Flights to and from L.A. have already been arranged. Hopefully, you will be in and out of Los Angeles in less than twenty-four hours. Coordinates for the drop will be sent once you land… Do you have any questions?”
“Any indication on the job?”
“Yeah… it’s a standard take-down. Just one person.”
Matthew instantly grew more alert.
While he’d practiced this kind of task many times, he’d always had Pierre by his side on previous missions.
“Okay…” Matthew responded, annoyed to hear doubt in his own voice. “You’re sure I’m ready?”
“Of course I am,” Pierre said confidently. “I trained you, after all.”
“Okay. Who’s the target?”
“His name is Leon… He’s a Zone One asset.”
“Really?” Matthew asked, unsure why he was being asked to kill one of their own.
“Indeed, Matthew. The time of Phase Two is drawing near. We need to ensure the people we take through are worthy.”
“I can assume that this… Leon… is not?” Matthew questioned cautiously.
“You can indeed. We were asked to take him down by the Englishman, so you can be assured it is necessary.”
Matthew had only ever met the Englishman once. It was on the last day he and Emmett had seen each other. “Indeed,” replied Matthew.
“Good…” Pierre said, “Call me when you land.”
“Will do.”
“Oh… and Matthew…”
“Yes Pierre”
“You can do this.”
Chapter Six
After driving in random directions for more than an hour, Caleb was satisfied they hadn’t been followed. He’d stopped the car on a couple of occasions, first to fill up with gas, and the second time to pretend they were posting a letter.
On both occasions, as he had when they first left Darcy’s apartment, Caleb made a mental note of the people and cars in the area. At each location, there had been no matches, nothing to suggest they were being tailed or watched.
“Are we okay?” a nervous-sounding Darcy asked when he slipped back into the car.
“Looks that way,” replied Caleb.
“Where are we headed?” she asked.
Though the majority of the drive had been spent focusing on his surroundings, Caleb had been formulating a plan. He knew they needed more information. “How much trust do you have in your boss?” Caleb asked.
Darcy was surprised by the question, and uncertain how to answer. She had a professional relationship with her editor, Marcus Freeman. To say she trusted him would be an overstatement. She’d heard rumours about how he’d landed the position of editor-in-chief at the L.A. Examiner, the city’s second largest newspaper. When President Hawkins had been assassinated, the editor’s position at the Examiner had been vacant. According to some of Darcy’s co-workers, the London-born Freeman was not the only person available at the time to take the position. From what she’d heard, many corners had been cut, ruthlessly, to ensure the transition was quick and done in a hurry. As such, Darcy was unable to trust him completely. “I don’t really know him that well…” replied Darcy.
