by mike Evans
Gabriel rolled his eyes, thinking there was a strong chance that his day, which was already not going great, was going to go completely to hell in a handbag. “Yes, do you have the right phone number?”
The voice came back instantly, this time trying to sound a little more confident. “Well, you tell me, son. Is this Gabriel that I am speaking with?”
“I hope you planned on what you were thinking when you made this call. You could be making the worst decision you ever have before.”
“Gabriel, it’s Tony… Tony Baker. We need to talk, son.”
“Tony Baker… what the fuck are you doing calling me?”
“It’s about a job we have that we...”
“Stick your job where I’ll stick my foot if I see you or anyone coming after me! You don’t remember when you guys thought that it was a good idea to try and bring me in to offer me some work? How many people did you lose that time? Did you think that I’d changed my mind over time, Baker?”
“Uh, well yeah, I was hoping that we might be able to offer you enough to get you to come do some contract work for us?”
“You don’t have enough spooks sitting around anymore, looking for something to do, that you can’t get the job taken care of on your own?”
“Well, not counting the number of men that you sent back to us in pieces, we’ve had a few different Presidents since then, if you haven’t been keeping up with the times. Unfortunately, neither of them was very keen on the idea of secret operations, so our entire budget has been screwed, son.”
“I don’t see how this is my problem. You remember the last time we spoke and I mentioned I was out, right? Did you think I was kidding? I’m sure you are staring at my file right now and can see my history of evaluations. Does it mention anywhere about me having a personality?”
“No, it doesn’t, but we’ve been ordered to take care of a threat and if you don’t help, you might as well write yourself off for dead too.”
“I’m not an easy kill, Baker.”
“No. You are quite the pain in the ass, actually. You see, what is happening is top secret and I can’t really disclose details to you until you...”
“Don’t do me any favors, boss. I don’t need any jobs, I don’t need CIA money, and I don’t want to work for you guys ever again. I hope that you can understand I’ve been fucked over too many times to go back.”
A second voice came on the line, cutting Gabriel off. “Sorry, son, we don’t have time for shit like this. This is Frank Fox. I’m in charge of Tony and I apologize for having to take this harsh tone with you, but we are on a timetable. We need your expertise for a short time. It’ll be your biggest payday ever. Hell, it’ll be like we are paying you with your own money.”
Gabriel did not like the way that came off and slammed on his brakes, pulling over on the side of the street. He ripped out his laptop, feeling his blood pressure rising as he waited for the yellow biohazard to flash again. When it did, he punched the keys and brought up his accounts, showing four of the nine banks that he used regularly. When they came up on his screen, it showed a current balance for each one. All of them showed one cent available. Gabriel didn’t feel sick because he knew that he could get the money back, but he was confident that whoever this Frank guy was, he had a short life span left if he had anything to do with his money going missing.
Gabriel put the vehicle back in gear and pulled away from the curb. He pulled a silenced pistol from his coat and set it on the armrest next to him, never letting go. He wasn’t going to waste time if he needed it. He wanted to be a second ahead of them. “Tony, I think that you and your friend have got a death wish. Did you know that he’d taken my money?”
Tony hit the mute button. “Jesus Christ, Frank! Are you absolutely bat shit crazy? I don’t know about you, but once I can retire, I’d like to do that and I’d also like the ability to sleep at night. You are underestimating him. He’s going to come here if you don’t fix this!”
“We are in a secure, armed building filled with armed men. We are going to be fine. He’s going to change his mind. It’s Handler 101, for god sakes. You took the classes.”
“Yes I did—a million years ago, and ever since taking them, I’ve never met anyone like the man you are currently screwing over. If you think that these men are going to intimidate Gabriel, you’re fucking crazy. He’ll come in, slit their throats, and do it with a smile on his face.”
“He isn’t a ghost, Baker; he’s just a man. I’m well aware of how dangerous he is. I just don’t think you understand how badly we need him.”
“Oh, I understand how dangerous the situation at hand is, but I think you might be trading one evil for another. I think you’re going to be getting more than you bargained for and unfortunately, you’re dragging me into the shit right with you. The only problem is, I seem to be the only one who cares that we are pissing the devil off.”
“Just relax. You’ll get to retire and you’ll get to sleep at night. I thought you needed to have a pair hanging between your legs to be a handler.”
Baker sat back, picked up his pack of smokes, and smiled, motioning for Frank to introduce himself to the man. Frank adjusted his collar, smiling, and hit the mute key on the phone. “Son, this is Frank Fox, I’m Tony’s boss. We need you to do a job for us. Tony was unaware that I had taken your money and he seems very nervous of the personal opinion that you carry of him. Your reputation seems to follow you even into CIA retirement.”
“So, you were the one that took my money, thinking that if you had my bankroll, you’d be able to get this set up?”
Frank laughed, which left Gabriel white knuckling the steering wheel. “You want to know something funny, son?”
“Fox, you just don’t get the point.”
“You know that we were the ones who hired you for the job on the FBI building? We owed a huge favor for some help that Nulty gave us. When his man got picked up, ready to narc and expose secrets, which would eventually make their way back to us, we went ahead and made some arrangements. We needed to get you in town and having you here for a job with a big payday seemed like the best idea. We wanted to make sure that you were still the man for the job. Unfortunately, things don’t always go as planned, but we were very happy with how everything worked out for you.”
“You hired me so that you could get my access to my accounts and then you hired someone to trace and hack and steal my money. I’m going to kill you; I hope you understand that. It’s going to hurt and it’s a promise, it isn’t a ‘maybe’. It’s just a when and how bad it will hurt, you cocky fuck.”
“Just take a look at a file we have. You do a quick job and you get your money back. There is no reason to take any of this personally.”
Tony whispered, “He takes everything personally you, dumbshit.”
“Don’t forget who you are talking to, Baker. I’m your boss! You treat me with a little damn respect.”
“Oh, I know who I’m talking to… a dead man sums it up pretty good.”
Frank said, “So, can I send you the file to have you take a look?”
The line was silent; Gabriel didn’t reply. He hit the end button on his call and plugged in his cell phone, tracking the call with software that the CIA might not even have at their disposal. Within a minute, he was driving back to his warehouse, where he exchanged his job harness and vest for hell’s fury that had more deadly weapons than a metal detector could handle.
Chapter 8
Introductions
Gabriel drove past the building, circling it twice at two blocks away; after that, he moved in a block. He saw nothing, which did absolutely nothing to put his fears at ease. He looked around and pulled in quickly to the underground parking garage, driving very fast. When he got to the bottom of the garage, he parked in a dark corner where he wouldn’t be approached by anyone quickly. He knew that they were already watching him, but didn’t want to make it any easier for them or more difficult for himself.
Gabriel opened the rear
passenger door to his SUV. He knew this would require heavier artillery and pistols wouldn’t be the best choice. Gabriel was all about keeping as much distance between himself and an unknown number of security people. He grabbed a twelve-gauge, automatic shotgun and slung it over his shoulder and carried a black backpack in his hand. The elevator opened and two men greeted him cautiously, with hands held up. One of the men said, “Mr. Baker and Mr. Fox would like to talk to you. Would you please lay down your weapons and come with us, sir?”
Gabriel smiled. “That’s it? I just lay down my guns and you two take me upstairs?”
They stared at each other a moment longer than Gabriel was willing to trust; when one went to open his mouth, Gabriel pulled up the shotgun, firing twice and knocking both of them off of their feet with twelve-gauge slugs. They landed on their backs, writhing in pain and clutching their chests. Gabriel knew they would be wearing bulletproof tactical vests and that if they stayed on the ground, their chances of making it home would be greatly improved.
Not waiting around, Gabriel walked with a purpose and pulled his pistol as he walked by the two men. When he got closer to the elevators, he shot out the cameras that focused on the bank of elevators that took guests up the stairs. When the doors parted, he aimed and took out the one camera that was inside the elevator as well. Gabriel hit the button for the lobby and knelt down inside the elevator, keeping one foot between the heavy steel doors to make sure that he was not going to become an unwilling passenger on the elevator. He set the backpack down carefully and pulled the line on the inside. A red beeping light from the backpack turned on; Gabriel hit the doors’ close button, then turned on his heel and sprinted towards the stairwell. Once there, he took three steps at a time. He counted to 30 as he neared the top of the stairs, and then he waited a moment for the perfect time to exit the stairwell.
The security officers of the building lined up outside the elevator with their semi-automatic pistols drawn to subdue the man. They had orders to bring him upstairs, but were not going to get shot in the process. When the elevator’s light blinked on the floor, announcing its arrival, the two doors parted. What the guards saw when the doors parted was not what they expected. One of the men walked forward towards it, gun trained as if, somehow, it was going to pull a pistol and shoot him. When he got a bit closer, he heard the beeping in the bag and he looked over his shoulder. “Hey guys, this fucking thing is beeping.”
One of the senior guards yelled, “Well, don’t stand there! Fucking move, move, move… we got to go!”
All of the men turned and tried to sprint for cover. They made a valiant effort at attempting to put as much distance as they could, but unfortunately for the men, they all failed miserably. When the bag exploded, the blast’s force catapulted them into the air. Gabriel opened the stairwell door and sprinted into the lobby, going unnoticed with the plethora of bodies and shrapnel shooting everywhere and the smoke engulfing the floor. Gabriel ran hard to the second set of elevators at the opposite end that went to the top floor offices.
He sat in the elevator, feeling awkward listening to the sounds of Melissa Etheridge that accompanied him to the top. As the elevator rose, he took a few deep breaths and put a pistol in each hand, not knowing for sure what to expect as he waited for the doors to open and possibly leave him in a dangerous position. As the doors opened, Gabriel slid to the side, his back up against the buttons. A hailstorm worth of bullets painted the silver doors a goldish-copper tone. Screams from the outside yelled, “Where the hell is he? Where is he? I thought you said he got on the elevator?”
Gabriel walked out, firing two shots quickly at nothing. He was past the point of worrying if these men went home. They’d sent steel his way and he wasn’t about to die because of compassion and the worry for others. The two shots weren’t wasted and they weren’t a warning. His next five shots were all center mass, knocking all of the men dressed in black suits on their asses. The ones who were smart enough to wear a bulletproof vest would still be around to see tomorrow. Gabriel walked past them quickly; any that tried standing got a reason to get new dental work.
He ran forwards in the empty hallway, now all alone. As he ran past an open space, a leg came up, kicking both of his hands into the air. The force with which they slammed into his arms was enough to make him lose both pistols and they slid away from him.
A hand the size of a bowling ball reached out gripping Gabriel by the neck, lifting him effortlessly off of the ground. Gabriel clawed at the man’s wrists, punching them and hitting, trying to free himself. Gabriel was choking, and he knew it from the lack of oxygen that was getting to his brain. His eyes started to roll into the back of his head when the man made his mistake, the only one he would make, but it was enough to set up Gabriel to have a chance. The man used his oversized muscles and launched Gabriel into the air. He hit hard on the marble floor, sliding back ten feet until a wall stopped his path, crashing into it head first.
Gabriel sat for just a second assessing his situation and body; he didn’t think he had any broken bones yet. He rolled over, pushing up to his feet and staggering a little as he regained his balance before he let himself fall back to his hands and knees. Gabriel got a good view of the man; he was easily six feet eight inches tall compared to Gabriel’s six-foot plus frame.
He had to weigh at least three hundred pounds and he moved with the agility of someone half his size. He made the mistake of underestimating Gabriel as an adversary and assumed that he was going to be an easy target. The man didn’t want to let Gabriel rise to his feet, and as Gabriel pushed up on his hands and knees, pretending to get up slowly, the stranger ran at him, winding up a kick to punt Gabriel across the room.
As the man’s foot flew up towards his ribs, Gabriel spun to the side, catching his leg and lifting it up as high as he could. As the man wavered in the air, losing his balance, Gabriel pulled down on a handle on his harness, releasing a stiff blade knife from its holster, and plunged the knife into the rear of his thigh.
Gabriel pulled the knife out quickly, and as the man fell to the ground, he stabbed him in the side of the other thigh. The man screamed in agony. Gabriel left the knife in place this time, and as the man's skull smashed to the ground, Gabriel pulled another of his nine-millimeter pistols out and placed it next to the man’s temple. Gabriel said, “Let me guess. You’re probably the big bad motherfucker most of the time in your role in life. Well, I’m the meanest fucker you’ve ever met. “
An intercom cracked before he pulled the trigger of the pistol and a clear, calm voice came over, filling the quiet room. “Gabriel, can you please refrain from killing Alexander? He really is… or I guess should say, was quite good. I hope for his sake, he has some backup skills to keep himself useful during his time to recoup.”
Gabriel looked up and around, looking for a camera. He saw one focusing in and out towards him. He took the pistol, flipped it in his hand, and pistol-whipped the man repeatedly until he was knocked unconscious. Gabriel said, “I wouldn’t want him doing anything stupid.”
He stood, patted the man down, removing all of his weapons, and then collected his own pistols he’d lost after encountering the man. He slid them back in their predetermined spots on his harness and rolled his shoulders, feeling better after that throw with every second that passed.
Gabriel walked past the man, looking around and ensuring that no one else wanted to have an outcome like Alexander. He went straight ahead to the end of the rows of oak doors. He didn’t knock because the doors opened on their own as he approached them. Gabriel walked in, glancing around the room. A man in a dark gray suit spun the chair around and crossed his legs after pushing up a pair of gold wire-rimmed glasses. He set a red folder, labeled with the word Classified on the desk and stared at Gabriel. “You are very good, Gabriel, aren’t you? It’s a shame you’re not a full-time staff employee.”
Gabriel stared at the man. “Can I assume that you are Frank? Where the hell is Tony? I would love to see him; is h
e around?”
Frank shrugged. “Honestly, and don’t take any offense, but once you hung up, he was pretty confident you were going to come here and try to kill us. Which, of course, doesn’t seem like it was that far of a potshot call, was it?”
Gabriel lifted his pistol, aimed it at the man’s face, and said, “I want to know what the fuck you were thinking, taking everything I had. I can understand trying to make a point; I’ve been there and I’ve done it before. But when you take everything that a man owns and then threaten that he needs to do what you want if he ever wants his money back… well, it just seems like you have a goddamn death wish. Don’t you think, Frank?”
“You’re a hard man to get the attention of. I think that, unfortunately, this was going to be the only way that I could tell you any of this. I have more news to tell you, of course, that I think might just give you the motivation that you need to have.”
“Talk. This day needs to be over soon or there’s going to be a lot more killing taking place, and it’s going to start with you and Tony, when I find him.”
“There might be more here than you can handle knowing,” he said.
“When I started my day, I had every intention of shooting a mark. I accomplished that and then had you to deal with, ruining my entire damn day. What answers do you think you have or things you think you can tell me that will make me want to do anything that you want?”
“You know as well as anyone that we are the sheriff of the world, don’t you? There is a terror cell in—”
Gabriel cut him off. “There is always a damn terror cell and there’s always a threat to America. What makes these guys different?”
“You’re aware of the Chicago Marathon Bombing, right?”
Gabriel walked forward, took a seat, and rested the pistol on the armrest, still pointing straight for Frank’s head. “If you know anything about me, you wouldn’t need to ask me such ignorant questions, would you?”
