The Devil You Know

by James P. Sumner

  “I do.” She takes another sip of her pint. “You two made one hell of a team. Best in the business for a long time.”

  “Yeah, we did. That was more his doing than mine, but still… it worked.” I pause to take a gulp of my own drink. “And now I have you.”

  “Damn right, you do.”

  “You’re not as good at being my secretary, but you’re undoubtedly deadlier and better-looking. A fair trade-off, I’d say.”

  We laugh together.

  Ruby gestures to her drink. “This stuff’s growing on me.”

  “It’s not bad, is it?”

  “Let’s enjoy ourselves today, Adrian. Take our time. Relax. Drink. Tomorrow will be here soon enough.”

  I hold my glass up again for another toast, which she reciprocates.

  “Sounds like a plan.”

  After all, I have plenty more stories about Josh I can tell her.

  I hear his voice in my head.

  Hey. You’re not going to tell her about that waitress in Madrid, are you?

  I smile to myself. “Did I ever tell you about the time Josh and I went to Spain?”

  Asshole.

  9

  November 11, 2019 – 08:55 GMT

  The old RAF base is on the outskirts of a town called Enfield, bordered by Epping Forest. It has a wide perimeter fence. Long-empty guard towers stand on either side of a rolling gate topped with barbed wire. There’s a lot of flat, open space—once a small network of roads to navigate between runways and hangars.

  One building stands alone in the middle, low and decaying. A large hangar stands at each end of the compound, like towering bookends, leaving lots of open space in between.

  Inside, some of the walls are crumbling. I think it was previously used for SAS training, which is why there are bullet holes everywhere. But the place is still intact and operational.

  Most of the rooms inside stand empty and in darkness. The doors are either closed or missing. But one room is alive. The fluorescent lights buzz overhead. The door is open and inviting. Three chairs are behind three small desks, facing a larger desk that overlooks the classroom with a whiteboard behind it.

  Pretty obvious where the team should go.

  The only other room showing signs of life is the one I’m currently standing in with Ruby. It’s the operations room, used to monitor the whole base via security feeds from the cameras scattered around the place. Thankfully, they all still work.

  “You ready?” asks Ruby.

  “I am,” I reply confidently.

  “It’s just… you’ve never taught or trained anyone before.”

  “True.”

  “And you’re not exactly the most patient person…”

  I smile. “Also true.”

  “And that room is about to fill up with an awful lot of ego.”

  “Yet none will be as big as mine.”

  She slaps my arm. “That’s my point, asshole.”

  I smile again. “Ruby, relax. Honestly, this is the easy part. Getting them here was the challenge.”

  “Yeah, well, they’re not here yet.”

  I check my watch. “There’s still time. Patience, my young Padawan.”

  She sighs. “Jesus Christ, I’m dating a twelve-year-old.”

  I glance at her. “That’s frowned upon in most cultures, y’know?”

  “Adrian, I swear to God, I will shoot you right now.”

  I start to laugh, but I see something in her eyes. She’s only semi-serious about shooting me, yet she seems… anxious.

  “Are you okay?” I ask.

  Ruby shrugs and avoids eye contact. “Of course, I am. Why wouldn’t I be?”

  “I dunno. You tell me. But you’re clearly not.”

  She goes to speak but hesitates, which isn’t like her. I wait to let her find the right words. She struggles with opening up about as much as I do.

  She paces away and rests against the edge of a desk against the opposite wall.

  “I just think… I don’t know. Did we think this through properly?”

  I frown. “How do you mean?”

  “I mean this… me and you… getting involved in Blackstar. Everything we’ve done, everything we’ve worked for… was it all for nothing if we just wind up working for a boss and a paycheck like regular people? We’re not regular people, Adrian. We don’t have regular lives. Why are we really doing this? Why are you doing this? Honestly.”

  I think for a moment.

  “I won’t bullshit you and say there isn’t any selfish motivation behind it. You know me too well. But first and foremost, I believe this is the right thing to do. I know Schultz, and I know GlobaTech. They wouldn’t be spooked without good reason. Whatever they’re worried about is bad enough that they would ask me to help. You said it yourself… I can’t say no to that. And neither can you.”

  She smiles briefly. “The difference between us, Adrian, is that you can’t say no to what’s right… whereas I can’t say no to you.”

  I look at the floor, willing the color to stay out of my cheeks.

  “I don’t know what to say to that. Thank you.”

  “You don’t have to thank me, Adrian. I love you and respect you, and I’d follow you into Hell if you asked me to. I only ask because—I can’t believe I’m about to say this—my spider sense is tingling.”

  I suppress my half-entertained and half-proud grin. She’s being serious, and this isn’t the time for me to be an asshole about it.

  “Honestly? Mine too. I don’t doubt the motives of Schultz or GlobaTech, but I don’t think anyone involved is as prepared for what’s coming as they think they are. I’ve made a career out of being around when the shit hits the fan. There’s something in the air. Has been for a couple of years. When the storm finally hits, I’d rather be where I am now than sitting at home, resisting the urge to kill some two-bit drug dealer for pocket change because I’m bored of my fourth attempt at retirement.”

  Ruby smiles. “Is that the selfish motivation?”

  I nod. “It is.”

  She walks over to me and kisses my cheek. She takes my hand in hers and looks me in the eye. “Despite everything we’ve done, I’m still a comfort zone kinda girl. That’s all.”

  “Ain’t nothing comfortable about the zones we live in.”

  She laughs. “You’re not wrong. But it’s still safe because it’s what I know. What I’m good at. All this…”

  She trails off.

  “What is it, Ruby?”

  She sighs. “All this is exactly what you and Josh would get involved in. I’m not him, Adrian. I can’t do what he did. I’m just worried I won’t be any use. That I won’t live up to—”

  I lean forward and kiss her, cutting her off mid-sentence. I place a hand on the side of her face and hold her against me. When we part, her eyes are sparkling and alive.

  I smile, trying to offer comfort and reassurance.

  “Ruby, if the only thing you do is help keep me in check and keep my head in the game, you’re already ten times more valuable than anyone else could ever be. Including Josh. He spent years keeping my Inner Satan on a leash and giving it some slack when the situation called for it. If he ever broke free, Josh helped rein him in again. But you… you don’t care about the demon. You care about the man. You keep me strong, so I can control my own Satan, and that’s something Josh could never do. So, quit comparing yourself to him, okay?”

  She blushes and nods but says nothing.

  “But you’re also one of the most capable and, frankly, violent human beings I’ve ever had the pleasure of knowing.”

  She bursts out laughing and gently punches my shoulder.

  I shrug. “What? You are. And I can’t think of anyone I’d rather have beside me running this thing. All the reasons Schultz wanted me for this are the same reasons I want you.”

  Ruby kisses me again. “Thank you. That helped more than you know.” She glances at one of the monitors beside us. “Now it looks like we have work to do.” />
  I look over and see three figures walking through the main gates, between the guard towers. They appear to be talking to each other and looking around, as if questioning if they’re in the right place.

  I smile. “Sonofabitch. We got all three.”

  “Yeah, we did.” Ruby holds out a fist for me to bump, which I do. “Is everything ready?”

  “It is. Time to go to work.”

  09:03 GMT

  I waited until they all found the classroom and took their seats before heading over to meet them.

  I linger in the doorway long enough for them to all notice me, then step inside. They’re all wearing civilian clothes, which can’t help but show off their impressive physiques.

  I nod a courteous greeting to Vickers and Rayne in turn, then approach March. His caramel skin shines under the bright lights. I extend a hand, which he takes.

  “You must be Sergeant March,” I say.

  “Yes, sir,” he replies. His voice is deep and booming.

  “But you prefer Link, right?”

  He smiles. “Yes, sir.”

  “My colleague has told me a lot about you, Link. Glad you decided to come on board.” I move over to my desk and perch on the edge, folding my arms across my chest. “Now that we’re all here, I can perhaps fill in some of the blanks I had to leave. Firstly… Captain Vickers, Sergeant March, Lieutenant Rayne. While your ranks are impressive and well-earned, they’re no longer needed. From now on, I’ll address you as Jessie, Link, and Rayne. If that’s a problem for you… tough.”

  Jessie shifts in her seat. “With all due respect, I don’t care what you call me. I just wanna know why I’m here. We all do.”

  I nod. “Fair enough. This is Project Blackstar. It’s a covert unit put together at the request of President Schultz. It consists of the absolute best that the U.S. Armed Forces have to offer. We have an Air Force combat controller, a Marine sniper, and a Navy SEAL. This isn’t a competition. I’m not here to blow smoke up your ass. If you weren’t good, you wouldn’t be here. But you are, so check your ego at the door and get over yourselves. This will be unlike anything you’ve done before. All the training you’ve had… it’ll only get you so far. I’m here to take you further.”

  Link clears his throat. “Maybe I missed something, but… who are you?”

  I smile. “I’m Adrian Hell.”

  His eyes grow wide. “The assassin?”

  “That’s me.”

  He shakes his head with disbelief. “This is fucked up.”

  “Well, you’re not wrong, Link. Now I’m gonna be honest with you. This project doesn’t operate on a need-to-know basis. I won’t hide things from you. You answer to me because that’s the way the president wants it, and I’m ultimately responsible for what this team does. But you will always know what I know, and as far as I’m concerned, you’re all equal partners in this.”

  Rayne slowly puts his hand up.

  I look over at him. “You don’t need to do that. We’re not five.”

  He lowers it again.

  “What’s Project Blackstar for?” he asks. “There must be two dozen black ops outfits across the military and the CIA, not to mention Delta and the Rainbows. What’s so different about us?”

  “Good question. Here’s the inside scoop, Buttercup: GlobaTech Industries is the leading military force on this planet. Like it or not, their private security force is easily inside the top fifteen biggest armies in the world. Especially after 4/17. Also, like it or not, one of their guys is typically worth three of anyone else’s. One of the perks of near-unlimited funding. The U.N. hired them for a reason. The world is changing. The art of warfare is changing with it. GlobaTech are leaders of this new world because they’re the ones shaping it.”

  Jessie scoffs. “Sounds like someone has a real hard-on for the mighty GlobaTech. Why not just go and work for them?”

  I move over to her desk and stand in front of her, my hands in my pockets. “Because they can’t afford me. Also, because they didn’t ask. The president did.”

  I idle back over to the desk and rest against it once more. “What many people don’t know about GlobaTech is that they have an elite unit that answers only to the director. These guys are as good as it gets, and they deal with all the dirty things that governments won’t touch. They do it quietly and they do it well. They don’t have the limitations you people do.”

  Link frowns. “Such as?”

  “Such as red tape. Such as politics. Such as agendas. You three might represent the top one percent who have a little more leeway than the rest, but you still have limits and restraints. You have rules of engagement and treaties and laws. Hell, you can’t even blow your nose without written permission from a three-star general, let alone kill anyone. You can’t always do what needs to be done because you have to be seen to be nice and fair when you’re doing it.”

  Jessie shrugs. “That’s the world we live in. That’s society. That’s the rule of law. This isn’t the Wild West.”

  I nod. “Except it’s not. Not anymore. That isn’t the world we live in now. GlobaTech are a victim of their own success in a lot of ways. They’ve left every major world military behind. Their men are better equipped and better trained. Their tech is groundbreaking and, for the most part, unrivaled. No country can compete with them. That’s why they’re out there fighting the good fight for the U.N., and you guys are stuck on base, testing drones and training cadets.”

  “I wasn’t,” says Rayne. “I was out in the field.”

  I look at him. “Yeah, you were. Fixing a problem left over from the pre-4/17 world, surrounded by so many political landmines, no one in their right minds would touch it.”

  “Except the SEALs.”

  “Exactly. Except you. My point is, you guys don’t know the fight that’s out there anymore. The enemies are getting better. Smarter. They’re attacking in ways you don’t understand. GlobaTech do, and President Schultz is done allowing the United States to be left behind. He wants our country to be prepared for the battles ahead. That’s why he’s asked me to recruit and train a team that will serve as his personal answer to GlobaTech’s elite unit. That is Project Blackstar.”

  “Okay, hold up,” says Link. “You just got through telling us we’re the best of the best, right? No offense, but what are you going to teach us? I know who you are. I imagine most of the world does. You were on the internet less than three weeks ago being tortured by a fucking teenager. What are you gonna do? Show us how to get our ass kicked?”

  Jessie and Rayne don’t say anything, but they look at me expectantly.

  The guy has a point. Thankfully, I anticipated this kind of reaction. It’s understandable. I’ve been where they are. I know how their minds work.

  I nod slowly. “You’re absolutely right, Link. What do I know? I was beaten and tortured within an inch of my life in front of a global audience. What a lot of people don’t know is that she was the daughter of an assassin and had trained with the Yakuza. One on one, she would give any one of you a run for your money. She fought without restraint. She fought for vengeance, not justice. She was violent beyond modern comprehension. She personified everything about the bad guys in our new world. She wasn’t motivated by religion or greed. She wanted to burn it all down just to see one man suffer.

  “But I still beat her. I survived. Because I’m just like her. I always have been. I’ve been that way for twenty years—long before it became fashionable. I’m the only person qualified to train you because I’ve been at the top of the food chain in both worlds since you three were in high school.”

  They exchange glances, unsure of how to respond.

  “So, what exactly are you going to train us to do?” asks Rayne.

  I pace in front of them. “Everyone has a bad day at the office sometimes. But I’m standing here with you, and that bitch was blown up on a boat. See, it doesn’t matter how you play the game… so long as you win.”

  I move to the door and lean against the fr
ame, staring back at them. They’re all sitting casually in their seats. They all look like they accept what I said because they don’t believe it’s real. Like they’re humoring me.

  That’s about to change.

  “The world we live in now is different. The way you have all been trained is outdated. You are among the elite in your specific branches of the military, which means you likely have fewer limits than most. You’re trained to think outside the box. That’s great. But you still fundamentally operate within the boundaries of the world you know. Limits are limits, regardless of how many there are. It’s my job to remove them completely.”

  Jessie frowns. “So, what? We’re going to be allowed to break the law?”

  I shrug. “We’re going to be allowed to ignore it if we have to. That’s a responsibility few people wouldn’t abuse. You’re all here because I trust you with that responsibility. And so does the president.”

  “This is insane,” she mutters.

  I ignore her. “The new world… the aftermath of 4/17… it’s a battlefield you’ve never fought on before. It’s not about bombs and bullets anymore. It’s about money and influence. The theater of war has been privatized. Governments are becoming redundant. They can be toppled overnight by a fucking social media post. You need to stop thinking within the confines of the world you grew up in because that world is gone. You need to start thinking in ways that would have never occurred to you three months ago.”

  “Like what?” asks Link.

  “I need to know you can improvise. Deal with new problems in new ways. Beat the enemy at their own game. Your training began the moment you sat down. See, underneath each of your seats is a bomb, connected to a pressure trigger that activated the moment your ass touched the chair. You stand up, you die.”

  “Are you serious?” exclaims Rayne.

  I smile. “Deadly.”

  Jessie narrows her eyes. “Bullshit.”

  “Take a look,” I say, shrugging.

  I can see none of them believe me, yet no one’s standing up in protest. Doubt is a powerful tool. Link shuffles to his left, closer to Rayne, so he can see underneath Jessie’s chair.