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The Excoms

Page 23

by Brett Battles


  “I’m not signing this,” Tuesday scoffed. “But I absolutely will be bringing it up in the meeting this evening.”

  “You will not be attending the meeting this evening.”

  “You have no power to keep me away. You work for the Committee on which I am a member. Not you. I demand we convene a meeting immediately.”

  “Your demand is noted and rejected.”

  “What the—”

  “Sir, you have compromised the Committee in a way that could have very easily derailed our efforts.”

  “I have done no such thing.”

  “Tessa Herrera.”

  “What about her? She’s…she’s one of the children, right?”

  “She’s your child. With a woman who used to work in the bookkeeping department of one of your companies. Conceived while your wife was on that trip to the Middle East which she never returned from. You were so ashamed you threatened her so that she’d never tell anyone, and arranged for her to be employed elsewhere. Worse yet, you have provided no financial assistance whatsoever.”

  A mass of emotions flickered across Tuesday’s face. He muttered, “I don’t know who told you that, but that’s pure fiction.”

  “The document. Turn to the last page, please.”

  Tuesday reluctantly flipped to the chart.

  “DNA comparison between you and Tessa,” the Administrator said. “Congratulations, you have a daughter.”

  Tuesday stared at the sheet. “How did you…”

  “How is unimportant. What’s important is that you lied to us by telling us you had no connection to the kidnapping.”

  “And if I had?” Tuesday said with anger. “You wouldn’t have sent the field team, and who knows what would have happened to her.”

  “If you care about her so much, why have you not helped her and her mother?”

  “It’s…complicated.”

  “She’s your daughter. The only complications are the pathetic ones you invent.” The Administrator paused. “Sign the paper so we can be done with this.”

  The man formerly known as Tuesday did as told.

  “One more thing,” the Administrator said. “If you do not do right by Tessa, the press will receive that chart. I’m sure they will be able to persuade you.”

  __________

  THE HELICOPTER FLEW through the Sierra Nevadas above a narrow river valley.

  Though Ananke had no idea where they were relative to the explosion site outside Yosemite, she searched the forest for signs of smoke and fire. Like on their flight east, she found none.

  Soon the mountains fell away, and they continued west over farms and towns and river plains.

  Finally the tenor of the rotors changed, and the helicopter began to slow and descend.

  Looking out the window, Dylan swore under his breath and said, “I knew it. They’re going to lock us up again.”

  “No one’s locking us up,” Ananke said.

  He looked over at her and gestured at the window. “They’re taking us back to the boat. It’s right there!”

  “Technically, I believe that is a ship, not a boat,” Liesel said, looking out another window.

  “That’s not my point.”

  Ananke lifted the side of her jacket and flashed him her gun. “No one’s locking us up.”

  For the first time, Dylan seemed to realize the others also still had their weapons. “So we’re all going to get killed in a bloody shootout? Is that the plan?”

  “Buddy, you can’t hate all the options,” Ricky said.

  “I never said I hated all the options. I’m just not fond of these two. I’m thinking more us walking away, the sun going down, a couple of pints in our future. That’s an option I’ll get behind.”

  The helicopter touched down in an open area near the end of the pier. Ananke glanced out the window. Standing well beyond the craft’s rotor range were three men in dark suits. She had never seen the two big ones before, but the smaller man in the middle was the Administrator.

  “Weapons drawn, or…?” Ricky asked.

  She pulled out her pistol. “I guess it couldn’t hurt to be ready.”

  Their escort didn’t even raise an eyebrow at this, and simply opened the door and motioned for them to exit.

  Ananke and Rosario went first, with Ricky and Liesel behind them and Dylan bringing up the rear.

  They stopped a dozen feet in front of the Administrator and spread out into a line. Behind them, Ananke could hear the helicopter rotors speeding up again, and then the craft rising back into the air.

  When the noise died down, the Administrator said, “I want to thank you again on a job well done. Now, if you will follow me.”

  “Follow you where?” Dylan asked.

  The Administrator gestured toward the gangway to the Karas Evonus.

  “No way. We’re not letting you lock us up again.”

  “Mr. Brody, we have no intention of locking you up, now or ever. I made that clear before, and nothing has changed. Either come with me, or don’t.”

  The Administrator walked away, taking his two companions with him.

  “I don’t know what you guys are waiting for,” Ricky said, “but I don’t see as I have much of a choice in this matter.”

  He followed the Administrator.

  Ananke was pretty sure the others would do whatever she did. As tempting as walking away was, nothing that had happened in the last few days made her think the Administrator would lock them up again, least of all the fact she still had her gun. Besides, she still wanted answers.

  She headed toward the ship and the others followed.

  __________

  INSTEAD OF LEADING them back into the maze of hallways they’d been in previously, the Administrator unlocked a door along the ship’s superstructure and took them up a set of stairs, into a room with large windows on three of the four sides.

  The room was set up very similarly to the conference room down in the bowels of the ship—a large table with chairs around it. In this instance, six. In front of four of the chairs were file folders. The Administrator indicated where each was to sit, pointing Ricky to one of the chairs without a folder, and taking the other himself.

  “In front of you is a report on the progress we’ve made concerning the problems that brought each of you to us.”

  “That’s not exactly how I’d phrase how we got here,” Ananke said.

  “Please,” he said. “Take a moment and look through them.”

  Before she opened her file, she asked, “What about the fire?”

  “Fire?”

  “From the explosion.”

  “Right. You’ll be happy to know your call gave the firefighters an excellent head start. It is my understanding that a little over ten acres were burned, and no casualties.”

  The relief she felt was all consuming. Though she’d kept reminding herself it really wasn’t her fault, she hadn’t been able to shake the feeling that it was.

  She opened the folder and looked inside.

  Her no-good, backstabbing op leader Noah Perkins had been apprehended. By whom, the report didn’t say, but there was a transcript of a taped interview—video file sent to her e-mail—in which Perkins laid out the setup of Ananke in great detail, implicating both himself and Marcus Denton. Denton’s current whereabouts were unknown, as he’d disappeared within hours of Perkins’s detention.

  Her excommunication order was still in effect, but it was no longer being actively enforced. This was not exactly the redemption she needed, as most clients would be reluctant to hire her without definitive word that the Alonzo situation had all been a mistake. Still, it did mean she could go home without worrying too much about being shot in the back.

  The report ended with, Efforts are still underway to completely clear your name, but this may take up to a few months. Our recommendation is to take time off until the excommunication has been annulled.

  Looking up, she saw the others were just finishing up their files, too. She raised a
n eyebrow at Rosario.

  “If this is all true, then I am okay,” Rosario said. “I can work again.”

  “Me, too,” Dylan said enthusiastically. He turned to the Administrator. “Thanks! This is better than I could have hoped.” He looked back at the others. “He even put out word that I’ve just completed some high-stakes work and have his highest recommendation.”

  Ananke glanced at Liesel. “And you?”

  “What does it matter? I still didn’t save him.”

  “It matters.” Ananke touched the woman’s file. “May I?”

  Liesel shrugged.

  A scan of the report showed Liesel’s problems with the Las Vegas police department had gone away, and that Mr. Wolf’s company was now aware the only connection Liesel had to Katarina Stolzer was trying to stop the woman. Her job in the company’s security department was waiting for her whenever she was ready to return. Whom she would protect now was not mentioned.

  “As you see, we have upheld our promise,” the Administrator said. “With the exception of Mr. Orbits, you are all free to return to your lives, though with any minor caveats that might have been in your individual report.”

  “Where is Ricky going?” Ananke asked, not wanting to care, but caring nonetheless.

  “He will be staying here with us. That was our agreement with him.”

  “Fine by me,” Ricky said. “This place looks a lot more fun than Crestridge.”

  “What’s he going to be doing? Just hanging out here for the next ten years?” Ananke asked.

  “Please. Nine and a half,” Ricky said.

  “That actually brings me to the other point I wanted to discuss,” the Administrator said. “From time to time, my organization will have jobs that come up on which we’d like to use you as a team again. You worked very well together, and we feel you will do so again. The terms will always be payment up front and double your going rates. All we would ask in return is that when we call, you answer.”

  “What kind of work? More kidnappings?” Rosario asked.

  He paused. “The type of work will not be like the assignments you get from others. We’re not interested in government intelligence or corporate espionage. Our mission is to provide help where it’s needed but would otherwise not be given.”

  “Who the hell are you guys?” Dylan asked.

  “Who we are is not important. The jobs we would have you do are. The kidnappings, for example. There was nothing there for us to gain except saving those children.”

  “This all sounds very altruistic, but something’s bothering me,” Ananke said. “How is it you chose the five of us?” Before he could answer, she said, “Let me rephrase that. How did the five of us end up available to you all at the same time? Well, the four of us, I guess. Ricky wasn’t doing much of anything.”

  “You’re right about that,” Ricky said.

  “Simple,” the Administrator said. “We were tracking you. You and several dozen others we thought would fill our needs, that is. You four happened to be the ones who became available around the time we needed you.”

  “Whoa, there,” Dylan said. “Are you saying that if my clients had waited another week or two to move their C4, I’d be a dead man because you would have already chosen someone else?”

  “Quite possibly, yes.”

  Dylan looked far from pleased with that answer.

  Ananke was still bothered by the four of them being available at the same time, and via similar situations. But she didn’t think she’d get a straight answer, so for the moment she kept her thoughts to herself.

  “You said you would want us to answer when you called,” Rosario said. “What if I am on another job?”

  “Then you are unavailable to us for that particular mission.”

  “As easy as that?”

  “As easy as that.”

  “There is much, I think, you are not telling us,” Liesel said.

  “You’re correct. But I’ve told you all I am able until you choose to participate.”

  Ananke had heard enough and was itching to get out of there. “I assume we can have some time to think about it.”

  “Of course. In fact, we really don’t need to know your answer until the next project comes up.”

  “And when do you think that will be?”

  “No way to tell for sure. Could be as soon as a week, or as much as a month.”

  “Until then we’re free to go home?”

  “Of course. Transportation is waiting for you on the pier.”

  __________

  “WELL?” MONDAY ASKED. “Are they with us?”

  The Administrator was still in the windowed room of the Karas Evonus, now talking to his boss via video chat on his phone. “They have asked for time to consider the offer.”

  “What’s your sense? Will they take it?”

  “Hard to tell. The courier will. He needs the work and the money. The women, though, I’m not so sure about.”

  “That’s not the answer I was hoping for.”

  “Me, neither.”

  “You’re ready if they refuse.”

  “The safeguards are in place, yes. And they will be taken care of…organically.”

  “Let’s hope we don’t have to start back at zero again.”

  “No, sir.”

  “What about Tuesday? How did that go?”

  “Exactly as planned.”

  “Good. I’m glad to be rid of him, though I guess I should be thankful he did us the favor of exposing the fact that there’s a traitor among the other five.” Monday reached for his keyboard to terminate the call. “I’m counting on you to find out who it is.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  __________

  THEIR TRANSPORTATION WAS a rental Lexus sedan, with four airline tickets waiting inside that would fly each of them back to their home.

  Dylan, behind the wheel again, drove them from the port, this time on a route that would take them across the bay to San Francisco International Airport.

  Before they hit the Bay Bridge, Shinji called Rosario’s phone, looking for Ananke.

  “We’ve been freed,” Ananke told him. “I should be home for dinner.”

  “That’s great,” he said.

  “We were told that, for the most part, our problems have been cleared up. Can you check on your end?”

  “Of course.”

  “Great. Thanks. Let us know as soon—”

  “Ananke, I called for a reason.”

  She paused. “What’s up?”

  “Quinn tried to get ahold of you. He wants you to call him back right away.” He gave her the cleaner’s contact information and hung up.

  She punched in the number.

  “Yes?” Quinn answered on the first ring.

  “It’s Ananke.”

  He said in a deadly serious tone, “I need your help.”

  She sat up, shifting immediately back to operative mode. “When and where?”

  “Now. In London.”

  “What’s going on?”

  “I’ll fill you in when you get here. It’s…personal.”

  She glanced at the others. “How much help do you need?”

  “All I can get. Do you have some people you can trust?”

  She glanced at the others. “As a matter of fact, I do.”

  Thank you for reading The Excoms!

  The whole gang will be back in late 2017 for their next adventure, though

  there is a rumor you might catch sight of some of them in

  the eleventh Jonathan Quinn novel, THE AGGRIEVED,

  coming Spring 2017.

  Also, reviews at your point of purchase are always appreciated!

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  Brett Battles is a Barry Award-winning author of over twenty-five novels, including the Jonathan Quinn series, the Logan Harper series, and the time-hopping Rewinder series. He’s also the coauthor, with Robert Gregory Browne, of the Alexandra Poe series. You can learn more at his website: brettbattles.com

/>   ALSO BY BRETT BATTLES

  THE JONATHAN QUINN THRILLERS

  Novels

  BECOMING QUINN

  THE CLEANER

  THE DECEIVED

  SHADOW OF BETRAYAL (U.S.)/THE UNWANTED (U.K.)

  THE SILENCED

  THE DESTROYED

  THE COLLECTED

  THE ENRAGED

  THE DISCARDED

  THE BURIED

  THE UNLEASHED

  Novellas

  NIGHT WORK

  Short Stories

  “Just Another Job”—A Jonathan Quinn Story

  “Off the Clock”—A Jonathan Quinn Story

  “The Assignment”—An Orlando Story

  “Lesson Plan”—A Jonathan Quinn Story

  “Quick Study”—An Orlando Story

  THE REWINDER THRILLERS

  REWINDER

  DESTROYER

  THE Excoms

  BOOK ONE

  THE LOGAN HARPER THRILLERS

  LITTLE GIRL GONE

  EVERY PRECIOUS THING

  THE PROJECT EDEN THRILLERS

  SICK

  EXIT NINE

  PALE HORSE

  ASHES

  EDEN RISING

  DREAM SKY

  DOWN

  THE ALEXANDRA POE THRILLERS

  COWRITTEN WITH ROBERT GREGORY BROWNE

  POE

  TAKEDOWN

  STANDALONES

  Novels

  THE PULL OF GRAVITY

  NO RETURN

  MINE

  Novellas

  MINE: THE ARRIVAL

  Short Stories

  “Perfect Gentleman”

  For Younger Readers

  THE TROUBLE FAMILY CHRONICLES

  HERE COMES MR. TROUBLE

  THE EXCOMS NO. 1 Copyright © 2016 by Brett Battles

  Cover art copyright © 2016 by Robert Browne

  Cover Images:

  • Silhouettes — © ComicVector/Adobe Stock

  • Desert Road — © sergei_fish13/Adobe Stock

  All rights reserved.

  THE EXCOMS NO. 1 is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, organizations, places, events, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

 

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