by Charlie Cole
“Excellent,” I replied. “Monitor that banking line. Let me know if there are any changes. Also, did you have any luck with the floor plans?”
“I did. I burned them on a disc,” Nan replied and pointed at the end table. She had copied the information onto a compact disc that sat in a jeweled case. I picked it up and pocketed it.
“You’re the best, Nan,” I told her. “Thanks!”
I got up and walked out with Jess. I could hear the music from Nan’s iPod start up before we were even out of the room.
“I thought I was the best,” Jess said in mock disappointment. I chuckled and turned to her, catching her alone in the hallway. I kissed her then. Simply and tenderly. I pulled back and saw her watching me.
“What?” I whispered.
“What was that for?” she asked.
“I know I’m not perfect,” I said. “Thank you for caring for me anyway.”
Jess kissed me back then. This time it wasn’t simple. And it certainly wasn’t tender. When she pulled back, she smiled, then slugged me in the arm.
“Stop blackmailing people, Simon,” she said. “I’m going to go change.”
“Need help?” I asked.
I heard her laugh as she went up the stairs. I sighed. There would be time for that soon, I hoped.
“Simon! Your friends are here!” It was Billy. He’d come in the back door.
I walked into the back study and found Ron Crawford and Geoff Spanner sitting together laughing. Billy Bender was standing in the doorway looking uneasy.
“Hey fellas,” I said.
Ron stood and shook my hand, clapping me on the shoulder. Ron was of about average height, built like a baseball player but his head was shaved clean.
“Simon, good to see you!” Ron said.
“You too, buddy!” I said. “Looks like your receding hairline got away from you.” This was met with laughs and a slap on the back.
Geoff was next. He was about six feet tall and his skin was as black as night. The fact that he spoke in a perfectly proper BBC English accent was always startling.
“Looking good, chief!” Geoff said. “Been a while.”
“I know. I know,” I replied. “Wish it were under better circumstances.”
“Well, I think we’re in for a jolly good time,” Geoff replied. He fished in his pocket, pulled something out and dropped it into my hand. It was two sets of car keys. “You asked for a couple of fast, heavy sedans. I got you two Cadillac CTSs.”
“Beautiful,” I said.
“They’re parked in a lot nearby, under the watchful eye of a bloke that I tipped a hundred dollars,” Geoff said. “I promised him another hundred if nothing happened to them for the night.”
“Good plan,” I nodded. “Ron? What’s on the menu for tonight?”
“I think you’re going to like this,” Ron said. He reached down and pulled out a case that had been sitting at the edge of the coffee table. He snapped the latches open and laid the lid of the case back.
Inside were four Glock 19C pistols. They had all been customized with compensators in the barrels to reduce recoil, making them easier to shoot. I was used to the function of the pistol, so there was nothing new to learn.
“Very nice,” I said. “Thanks, Ron.”
“Wait, there’s more,” he said with a smile. “I have another case like that, so we all have backups, just in case. And then, I have this…”
Ron reached over and picked up a larger case that I had noticed against the wall. He laid this on the table as well and opened it. I looked at what was inside, then cocked my head first one way, then the other.
“Okay… what am I looking at?” I asked.
“You really are sheltered, aren’t you?” Ron said. “It’s a CornerShot weapons system. It’s built to shoot around corners.”
“Get the hell out of here,” I scoffed.
“No, seriously,” Ron continued. It’s built here in the States but we sold it overseas to Israel. They’re using it in urban warfare to clear streets and the like without exposing troops to gunfire.”
I picked up the weapon and looked at it. It looked like a shortened assault rifle with a folding stock, but unlike any other weapon I’d ever seen before. I handed it to him.
“Show me,” I said.
Ron smiled and his teeth gleamed as he took the weapon from me. He retrieved a Glock pistol from its case and snapped it into an opening in the front end of the CornerShot.
“The weapon of choice sits up here,” Ron said. “But the weapon folds at a 90 degree angle either left or right, just behind where the pistol sits.”
Ron demonstrated and the assault rifle let the pistol point in either direction, just as he’d said, horizontally bending at mid-gun.
“How do you fire it?” I asked.
“There’s a trigger back here at the rear of the weapon so your hand never has to be exposed when firing around corners,” he said.
“Alright,” I chuckled. “But how do I aim? With a mirror?”
“I love this part!” Geoff chuckled. He and Ron must have been talking about armaments before we’d arrived at the brownstone.
Ron held the CornerShot up to his shoulder as if firing it, then flipped out a three inch video monitor. He turned the barrel to the left, then the right and the image in the monitor followed perfectly.
“Digital camera and flashlight mounted like a bayonet under the barrel.”
“Unbelievable…” I breathed.
“It’s perfect for clearing rooms, surveillance for probes into buildings… anything we’d want to do,” Ron said.
“And you’ve got one of these for each of us?” I asked, indicating the three of us in the room. Ron nodded.
“Alright, great job, my friend,” I said. “Let’s go see the rest of the crew and talk about what we’re going to do.”
I opened the door and the guys filed out. I met Jessica on the way down the steps. Ron and Geoff greeted her with a formal “Ma’am” as they passed by. Jess looked at me as they passed.
“They’re cute,” she whispered to me as the guys walked into the front room. I elbowed her gently.
“You’re spoken for,” I whispered back.
“I am?” she asked in mock surprise.
“Very much so,” I said. Jess chuckled but then her face turned serious.
“Simon?” she asked. “Are you really going back to Blackthorn?”
I could see in her face a fear of what my answer would be, the ramifications of that decision spreading out in front of us. But I also saw an acceptance. She would understand whatever decision I made as well.
“I mean if you did, I would understand,” she said. There was a part of that that went unspoken. If I rejoined Blackthorn, it would almost certainly stop the sale of DHS secrets. The police hunt would stop. Everything would be swept under the rug. Max would be blamed and probably executed. It solved problems, but only if I could set aside my conscience.
“Simon? Are you ready?” Billy called from the front room. They were waiting for us. Jess turned away before I could answer, so I followed her and found the team assembled in the front room. All eyes were on me. Everyone waiting to hear what I had to say. I took the opportunity to look them over.
Nan.
Billy.
Ron.
Geoff.
And my own beloved Jessica.
I swallowed hard. What I had in mind… what I was proposing to do… was unspeakable in the realm of covert operations. I was a rogue operative, formerly in the employ of the U.S. government and now I was planning to take down a covert government agency. I thought of the term, “fifth column” and thought that in the eyes of some, that title fit for us as well. I had to remind myself that what we were doing was right. We were doing it for people like Chris Swenson and Tom Ellis, people who couldn’t defend themselves.
“Thank you guys so much for coming here. I know that all of us have someplace else we’d rather be…”
I thought of my
son David and my daughter Melissa and of Alaina who was like a surrogate daughter to me in recent days.
“We have—“ I began.
“Simon?” Nan interrupted, holding up her hand like a child in school. I had built myself up to speak in front of everyone and now was thrown off.
“Yes?” I said.
“Sorry,” she squeaked. “But I found something important.”
“Share it with us then,” I replied.
“I followed a hidden link on the Fifth Column website and found a secured webpage. It’s password protected,” Nan said.
I was impatient.
“What is it, Nan?” I asked.
“It’s an auction,” Nan said. “A black market auction. They are bidding on the Department of Homeland Security Files… terrorists are bidding on the files…”
We gathered around Nan’s laptop and looked at her screen. Data was flowing across it from right to left like a stock ticker. Names and bids running. Below it was a clock, counting down.
22:13:47…
22:13:46…
22:13:45…
“Who is running this?” I asked and pointed at an active chat window on the site. Someone was administering the sale. Questions and answers ran in multiple languages as bidders inquired on the files. Bidders from Afghanistan and North Korea and Burma and Iran. Nan looked closer and tried to examine the code of the site, then flipped back.
“There’s only a four letter user name listed,” Nan said.
“Who?” I asked.
“The name is ‘ATHA’,” Nan replied.
I thought about that a second.
“It’s her,” I said finally. “It’s Isabelle Athabasca. Kendrick is going forward with the sale until I flush myself out into the open.”
I stepped back.
“Okay, here’s the plan,” I said. My voice came out clear and crisp. I wasn’t used to being in this position. I could be a headhunter and recruit and work one on one, but leading a team on a full-blown operation… it would have been beyond me before, but I found myself falling into the rhythm of command. All eyes snapped to me and so I began.
“Thanks to our friend, Christine Frost,” I began, “I have a meeting tomorrow with Max Donovan and Randall Kendrick. In just over twenty-two hours, they intend to sell our country’s secrets to terrorists… I don’t have to tell you how many lives that would jeopardize. We each have someone we need to protect, someone who could be harmed in a terrorist attack. My friend lost his wife in the 9/11 attack… Let’s make sure that doesn’t happen again.
“While I’m in the meeting,” I continued. “Nan and Billy will launch an electronic attack on that website.”
I looked at them both.
“Crash it, kill it, burn it,” I said. “Viruses, whatever it takes…”
“Yay…” Nan said under her breath excitedly.
“Then I want their data,” I continued. “Hack the system at Fifth Column and strip out the DHS information.”
“What about their existing system?” Billy asked.
“Rip its guts out,” I said. My eyes had narrowed. I could feel the anger burning inside me. “Disable their security systems for us and then strip the system.”
I looked at Geoff and pointed him out.
“If you haven’t met Geoff…” I said. “That’s Geoff. He commandeered some vehicles for us. Along with Billy’s mobile command station within the van, we can circle the city, hacking into Fifth Column. The advantage is we’ll already be mobile and harder for them to track. Jess, you’re driving in the van with them. Keep to open areas, multiple exits, don’t get boxed in. Okay?
“Geoff and Ron… that’s Ron there… are going to be raiding the Fifth Column offices while I’m inside,” I said. “The intent is a soft entry, no casualties. They’re going to quietly breach security and grab all the hard copies of the DHS files. We good to go?”
Geoff and Ron grunted the affirmative.
“We are taking back what is ours,” I said. “We do not need to live in fear. We do not need to run. We are in the right. We are doing what no other law enforcement agency possibly can. We are defending this country and everyone in it. And we will drive these bastards into the ground like the snakes that they are. Are we ready?”
The team let out a cheer and I felt lightheaded from the adrenalin rush.
“The people in this room mean the world to me,” I said. “I want you all to know that here and now… I could not do this without you… I looked them each in the eye and knew then that they were ready.
“Everyone goes home,” I said. It was my promise. My vow. We would not fail.
“Alright, let’s get ready,” I said and the team was moving, getting prepped. They trusted me and I hoped more than anything it was not in vain. I turned to Nan who was returning to her laptop. Jess came up and put a hand on my shoulder.
“Nan?” She looked up at me and I could have sworn I saw a tear in her eye. “I need one other thing…”
“Name it,” she replied.
“I need the medical records for Randall Kendrick…”
Chapter Fifteen
We were nearly packed when the Chicago Police Department raided the brownstone. I was in the third floor bedroom when I heard the screech of tires outside. It’s not an uncommon thing in Chicago. Traffic can be heavy and things happen, but what caught my attention was the proximity of the sound. I glanced out the window and saw first two squad cars, then a third slide to a stop out front.
I ran from the window, trying to find everyone else.
“The police are here!” I bellowed. “Police are at the front door!”
I found Jess getting dressed in the bathroom after a shower.
“Jess, the cops are coming!” I said. “Get in the bedroom!”
She grabbed an armload of her stuff and ran past me. I bounded down the stairs. Ron and Geoff had already left to pick up the cars. They’d taken the weapons with them. Not that I intended to shoot it out with the cops, but I felt naked without something to defend myself.
I ducked my head down the stairwell to the first floor and caught just a glimpse of first Nan and then Billy run through the house.
“Go, guys! Out the back!” I shouted.
They gave no answers, just the sound of retreating feet. I had explained the situation to everyone. How we had to work covertly. How the police would be watching for us. For Nan it was nothing new, she’d been involved in scrapes with the law since she was eight. For Billy, it was an acquired taste. He knew he was doing the right thing. It just took a little work to coax out his inner bad boy.
The front door erupted with the sounds of pounding. I could see the shapes of several men through the frosted glass.
“Chicago Police Department! Open up! We’ve got a warrant!”
I cursed to myself and ran back up the steps. I had recognized the voice. I hadn’t even thought about it until that very moment. It was Ken Gibson from the Alexandria Police Department. He was still on the case. Kendrick may have been ready to bring me in, but as far as Ken Gibson was concerned, he was ready to bring me down.
I ran back up the steps, taking them two at a time. I cleared the top of the first flight of steps when I heard them pound a second time. I was halfway up the stairs to the third floor when I heard the resounding crash and the door splinter and slam open. They had been prepared an entry team to break down the door. Now they were in the house.
I entered the bedroom and saw no one. The room was empty. I couldn’t see Jessica anywhere. I whispered her name but before I got an answer, I could hear feet pounding up the steps below me.
The closet was to my right and I slipped inside, closing the door behind me. In the ceiling of the closet was an access panel that I had to stand on my toes to reach. I pushed it aside then jumped up, grabbing the edge. I hauled myself up, then had to adjust my hands with the edge of the opening biting into my stomach. I managed to get all the way up into the attic and return the access panel cover.
I looked up and felt the creepy tickle of a tangle of spider webs touch my cheek. I tried to brush them away and found more webs. I fought back the urge to panic and brushed myself off. I wanted to move away, to get clear of the webs, but knew that I’d only stumble into more of them, so I stayed put and tried not to disturb them any more than I already had. It wasn’t the webs I feared so much as the spiders that resided in them. It was just a silly, childhood phobia I told myself, nothing more. I’d blundered into a spider in my father’s workshop once and I’d screamed. My father had cursed at me, laughing and killed the spider with a claw hammer. The creature squished under the hammer and hated them ever since.
I kept still as much as I could and focused on breathing. The thick stench of old insulation and dust filled my nose and I tried to breathe slowly and not take in too much of the foul air. Then I heard the bedroom door open below me.
I could hear the cops moving through the house. I knew how they looked for suspects. They were thorough and if we stayed here long enough, eventually they’d find us. Ken Gibson was a good cop, and he wasn’t going to go away empty-handed. I hoped that Nan and Billy made it out safely. Worst case, Billy was a federal officer and would likely show his ID. He might even make up a story about how he was arresting Nan. Oh she would love that…
I heard the closet door under me open, then a moment later the ceiling light was clicked on. I could see the light from the bulb shining through around the edges of the access panel. A long moment passed and then I heard what I could only interpret as a dissatisfied grunt. The light was switched off and the door closed. I stayed where I was and continued to listen. The footsteps on the third floor retreated slowly. There was a low murmur of conversation and some cursing. The sounds slowly faded.
I waited then, not being too eager to expose my position. I counted in my head… calculating the seconds, seconds into a minute, a minute into ten minutes… until finally, I thought it might be safe.
I pulled up the access panel slowly and set it aside. I was eager to leave my newly made arachnid friends behind, but didn’t want to jump down and announce myself. I sat on the edge and slowly lowered myself down. I couldn’t feel the floor under my feet, even when I hung by my fingertips. I relaxed my legs and let myself drop. I landed almost soundlessly, my knees bending deeply to cushion the impact. I waited, even then, waiting to hear sounds of someone coming. There was nothing.
