The Devil You Know

by James P. Sumner

  His eyes bulge. “Holy shit!”

  She looks over at me. “Are you fucking kidding me?”

  “You’re insane!” yells Rayne.

  “Quite possibly. And no, Jessie, I’m not joking. Welcome to your first lesson, kids. You have ten minutes to leave this room. If it takes you one second longer, I’ll assume I made a mistake, and you’ll be sent back to your old units—whether you’re alive or not.” I make a show of checking my watch. “I’ll be outside. Tick-tock.”

  I smile and walk out of the room, leaving the deafening silence behind me.

  10

  09:36 GMT

  I’m standing out in the open, facing the entrance to the building. All three of them have just walked outside, aiming handguns at me. They likely found the guns in one of the other rooms.

  I check my watch.

  Eight minutes. Not bad.

  They stop a few feet in front of me. They all look pretty pissed.

  Link steps forward and places the barrel of his gun to my forehead. I smile at him, which only angers him further.

  “You’re fucking insane!” he yells. “You could’ve killed us!”

  I shrug. “But I didn’t. I had faith that all three of you would find a way out of there, and you did. Just goes to show I was right to choose you for the team.”

  He forces the barrel against my head. The rim indents my skin. “I should drop you where you stand and walk away. Pretend this whole thing never happened.”

  I raise my eyebrows. “Feel free.”

  Behind him, Jessie and Rayne exchange a concerned glance. Their own weapons waver in their grip. But Link stands firm. He appears more pissed than the others.

  Interesting to see how the natural dynamic between the three of them has taken shape. He’s clearly assumed leadership, despite Jessie holding the highest rank outside of this. They must have discussed how they were going to handle this once they escaped. I wonder if threatening to shoot me was unanimous.

  I watch Link’s finger slip in and out of the trigger guard. He’s hesitant. Unsure of himself because of how confident I am.

  “What are you waiting for?” I ask. “You’re right. I’m clearly insane. Years of being the best killer who ever lived has taken its toll on my state of mind. I could’ve killed you all back there. You should leave me rotting with a hole in my head. Forget you ever saw me. Go back to your unfulfilling lives, killing nothing but time for no reason whatsoever.”

  He grits his teeth. “I’ll do it, I swear to God.”

  “I know. You’re one of the best marksmen ever to gain acceptance into the Marines. You could put a bullet between my eyes with that thing from the other side of this base. I just tried to kill you. What are you going to do about it?”

  His eyes narrow. The barrel of his gun lowers slightly.

  Jessie steps forward, to his side. “Come on, Link. This doesn’t solve anything. Let’s just go.”

  “Yeah, man,” adds Rayne. “We’re fine. No harm, no foul. Leave this nutjob to his presidential crusade.”

  I smile and look him straight in the eye. “What’s it gonna be, Link? Can you just let this go?”

  He holds my gaze for a few moments, then grits his teeth and reaffirms his aim.

  “Fuck you,” he says.

  Then he pulls the trigger.

  …

  …

  …

  He frowns when nothing happens.

  I screw my face up. “Aww. A little performance anxiety there, big guy?”

  He lets out a guttural scream and drops the gun, then throws a right hook.

  I expected he would. I could argue he deserves at least one free shot. But he isn’t getting it.

  I take a step back and deflect the blow, then step forward again, sliding my front leg between his legs. I hook my foot around the back of his ankle and give him a firm nudge with my shoulder. He stumbles back, falling heavily to the ground.

  The scene freezes. Jessie and Rayne lower their weapons, looking down at Link. I take a couple of steps back and wait. Eventually, once the embarrassment has come and gone, he gets to his feet and dusts himself down. The three of them stand there, staring at me.

  He’s even more pissed now. He takes one step forward but stops when I point to his chest, grinning. A red dot just appeared on it. The others stare. Their expressions change from anger to resignation when multiple red dots begin appearing on all of their bodies.

  All weapons are dropped. All hands are raised.

  “Goddammit,” mutters Jessie.

  I let the moment sink in. They all look defeated. I’d feel bad for them if this weren’t so funny.

  “You’re all amateurs,” I say finally.

  “Hey, screw you, man,” says Rayne. “We—”

  “You didn’t check the chairs in the classroom when you first got here. You found the weapons but didn’t question why there would even be weapons on a disused Air Force base. I’m sure you checked the mags to see if they were loaded, but you didn’t check to see if the firing pins had been filed down. Then you rushed out here, pissed off and not thinking clearly. You were desperate to get revenge and didn’t stop once to consider the possibility that I might not be alone. And now look at you. Standing there like idiots in the firing line of fifteen laser sights.”

  None of them speak. Jessie lowers her gaze, likely annoyed at herself. Rayne glances away, probably thinking the same. Link stares at me, still trying to be angry but knowing I make a good point.

  I sigh. “You three are meant to be the best and the brightest the U.S. military has to offer, and you just got beaten—badly—by an unarmed, aging hitman. Was I wrong? Do you not deserve to be here?”

  No answer.

  “Let me tell you how I beat you,” I say. “It was purely psychological. It wasn’t about bullets. I knew every move you were going to make before you made it. Each one of you is an open book. Remind me to play you all at poker for money when we’re done here… Jesus Christ. You trusted your environment. Your entire thought process happened within the confines of the world you were trained to exist in. That’s what I’m going to train out of you.”

  “This is crazy,” says Rayne. “There are certain things that are fundamentally accepted in life. I mean, who walks into a room and immediately thinks to check for a bomb under their seat?”

  I raise my hand and shrug. “I do. Thinking like that is the only reason I’m still alive. Remember, it’s not paranoia if the bastards are really after you. I’m going to train those fundamentals out of you. Get you all thinking the way I do. That’s how you survive against the new threats in this world. That’s how you’re going to beat them.”

  Jessie clears her throat. “Okay. Point made. Now could you… y’know… call off your snipers? These dots are making me uncomfortable.”

  “Oh, yeah—sorry.” I look over my shoulder. “Ruby! You can wrap it up now.”

  A moment later, the dots disappear. Everyone lowers their hands and stares behind me in disbelief. I glance back to see Ruby walking toward us. She was hidden behind one of the concrete pillars holding up the guard tower to the left of the main gate. She’s strutting confidently and smiling. As she stops beside me, the team notices she’s also holding a laser pen.

  “You’re shitting me,” says Link.

  Ruby shakes her head. “Nope. That was me.”

  “But… how?”

  She takes out her cell phone and waves it at them. “Remote control. There are a dozen of these pens attached to tripods all along the perimeter back there. Pretty easy to control them. It’s a simple app.”

  All three of them look at me, their mouths collectively hanging open.

  I grin. “I told you earlier. The fights we’re about to face are psychological. The enemies use their minds, not their guns. Technology and social media are more dangerous than they’ve ever been. The old way of fighting just doesn’t cut it anymore.”

  Rayne starts laughing. “Damn. You’re good, man. I’ll give you
that.”

  I shrug. “Thanks. Now, any questions?”

  No one speaks. Link still looks a little sore, but he’s visibly calmed down a lot since I put him on his ass.

  “No? Excellent. Be back here tomorrow. Eight a.m.”

  I turn and start walking away. Ruby follows me. I don’t look back to see what the team’s doing. I think today’s lesson hit home.

  Ruby’s grinning broadly.

  “What are you so happy about?” I ask.

  She leans in a little. “All that back there… how you handled them… that was hot.”

  I roll my eyes and laugh. “Thanks.”

  “Being a teacher suits you. Maybe when we get back to the hotel, you can give me detention… keep me behind after class?”

  We look at each other. Her eyes are sparkling and alive.

  I smile. “Yes, ma’am.”

  Five Months Later

  11

  April 24, 2020 – 09:12 BST

  I bought a penthouse apartment a few days after training began. I quickly realized that London was a good place to lay down some roots for the team. I’m not exactly shy of a dollar or two, so I told Schultz I would foot the bill for the location, so long as he could square things with the U.K. government about us being here.

  It’s overlooking the River Thames, in a district of London called Chelsea. It’s one of the more upmarket areas, which kept Ruby happy. She and I live here. The rest of the team were given budgets by Uncle Sam to find their own accommodation. I told them I don’t want to know where they’re staying. I don’t have anything to do with their private lives. The only condition was that they chose somewhere low-key and stayed invisible.

  The penthouse has become the unofficial headquarters and meeting place for Blackstar. We found the old RAF base was too far away from the city to be practical. Here, we’re close to the airport, should we need to travel, and it’s a nice enough area that privacy is the default setting for any residents.

  I walk across the street, enjoying the cool breeze and the early sun, and head inside. I take the four flights of stairs two at a time and head inside the apartment. Everyone looks around when I enter. It’s a large, open space, separated into distinct areas. Windows run almost floor to ceiling on the left, offering a nice view of the river. There’s a huge circular sofa in the middle of the room—sunken into the floor, with two steps in the middle—facing the wall nearest the door and the TV mounted on it. Beyond that is a kitchen, with a wide center island that forms a horseshoe path around the counters and appliances. Ruby’s over there, drinking coffee. Jessie, Link, and Rayne are spread across the sofa, watching TV.

  “Hey, Boss,” says Rayne. “You seen the news?”

  I shake my head. “Not yet. Let me guess… another C-list celebrity has updated their pronouns.”

  “If only. No, there was a siege yesterday at some office building in New York. A company called Tristar Security. Apparently, one guy stormed the place and took out a bunch of their security personnel.”

  I glance at the news report on the screen as I walk over to the kitchen.

  “Don’t look at me. I was here.”

  “They’re saying he worked for GlobaTech.”

  I stop and look around. “Really?”

  “So they say.”

  “Well, I would bet money on that not being the case, but it’s not our concern. Until somebody tells us to get involved with Tristar or a rogue GlobaTech operative, we need to stay focused on the matter at hand.”

  Jessie gets to her feet. “Which is?”

  I move around the kitchen island and pat Ruby lightly on the ass to move her to the side. She rolls her eyes and smiles.

  “I’m glad you asked, Miss Vickers,” I say. “Everyone gather ’round. I got us a gig.”

  They stride across the apartment. They’re all dressed casually. All appear alert and motivated. There’s a bounce in their step and a focus in their eyes that I can’t help feeling proud to see.

  It’s been a good five months. Smooth, for the most part. Link has been the most difficult to win over. I don’t know if he’s still sore about what happened on the first day, but the first few weeks, he was clearly reluctant to listen. My patience wore thin pretty quick. It was Ruby who reined me in, reminding me why we chose the guy in the first place. It wasn’t for his sparkling personality. It was only after the first couple of assignments that he warmed to the idea of answering to me. I honestly wouldn’t say I was friends with anyone on the team, but there’s a level of respect and courtesy that makes it easy to do the job.

  They’re a great team.

  They each stand in front of me, leaning on the counter expectantly.

  I open the file in my hand and spread the contents across the surface.

  “We have a new mission,” I begin. “I had a call with the president earlier today.”

  “Earlier?” asks Link. “It’s not even nine-thirty. What time did you get up?”

  I smile. “Too goddamn early. But for stuff like this, I need to be in a secure location, which means I’m up with the sun.”

  “Where did you go?” asks Jessie.

  “A conference room in the headquarters of MI5. Courtesy of the British government. I have a secure line to the White House whenever I need it and a secure server there to receive and print information like this.”

  She nods. “Nice.”

  “What can I say? They’re a friendly bunch over here. Anyway, these are satellite surveillance images taken by the CIA of Pancevo.”

  “Never heard of it,” says Rayne.

  “Me neither, until about an hour ago. It’s a small, rural town north of Belgrade.”

  “Serbia?” says Link. “That place ain’t ever gonna be a vacation spot.”

  I smile. “Probably not. They’re images of a suspected arms deal that took place inside the last thirty-six hours. It’s an abandoned warehouse in the back-end of nowhere.”

  The images are high-quality black-and-whites that show four men standing beside a stack of large crates. One crate is open, but the angle doesn’t show what’s inside.

  Opposite them are two more men. One is significantly larger than the other.

  I point to the smaller of the two. “This guy’s our target. Not much is known about him. He goes by the name Holt, and he’s currently high up on several watchlists around the world as a key figure in the black-market arms trade.”

  “This doesn’t sound out of the ordinary,” observes Link. “Why has this been given to us, instead of being handled through normal channels?”

  “And who’s that big bastard with him?” asks Rayne.

  “The big bastard is why we’ve been given this mission,” I say. “I don’t know his name, but I know he’s an assassin. A highly sought-after one with a good reputation. It was assumed I would know where to find him.”

  Ruby leans in next to me and studies the image. “Yeah, he does look familiar. Don’t know his name, though.”

  “So, do you?” asks Jessie.

  “Maybe, yeah. The target is Holt, but his bodyguard might be the best way of finding him.”

  “What makes this Holt guy so special?” asks Link.

  “He’s one of a few people who have stood out in the post-4/17 world,” I explain. “A constant presence in the growing community of assholes looking to profit from the misfortune of others. As you all know, the landscape has changed. All the wars you three were trained to fight have gone, leaving a gap in the market, which people like Holt are trying to fill.”

  “Is this not a GlobaTech thing?” asks Rayne.

  I shake my head. “They have their hands full. For now, this is being treated as an isolated issue. However, Holt is a big fish. The concern is that whatever he’s selling could be linked to whatever GlobaTech and the president are worried about.”

  “Which we haven’t been given any information on…” quips Link, not hiding the frustration in his voice.

  “I don’t know what to tell you,” I say. “
When I know, you’ll know. For now, they’re keeping their cards close to their chests. I suspect that’s because they either don’t have the evidence to support their theories, don’t know who to trust, or both. I’m not the biggest fan of our illustrious leader, but I trust him to do the right thing. That’s why I signed up for this, and that’s why I recruited you all. I also trust GlobaTech. If they’re worried about something, there’s good reason. Until that’s deemed our problem, we go where we’re told.”

  Link rolls his eyes but concedes with a nod.

  “Okay. This is the plan. I want you three to head to Serbia. Find out everything you can about what Holt is selling and whom he’s selling it to. Ruby and I are going to Paris to track down Holt’s bodyguard.”

  Ruby smiles. “Yay, Paris!”

  Jessie sighs. “We definitely got the wrong end of that deal…”

  I smile. “We work to our strengths. It’s your own fault for being so good.”

  She shakes her head and smiles. “Whatever.”

  “So, why Paris?” asks Rayne. “Is there a secret club for assassins there or something?”

  He smirks. The others laugh with him.

  I shrug. “Pretty much, yeah.”

  He frowns. “Wait. Seriously?”

  I nod. “There’s an underground community of assassins and fixers that operates around the globe. Some places are more high-profile than others. There’s a guy in Paris who runs a casino. He might be able to help. So, that’s our first stop.”

  “Thought you were retired?” says Jessie. “Doesn’t your membership expire or something?”

  I smile. “It’s not an actual club. I was the top of the food chain in that world for a long time. I have plenty of favors to call in. Like I said, we’re playing to our strengths.”

  Link stands straight and picks up the photo of Holt and his bodyguard. “When do we leave?”

  I shrug. “How soon can you get to Heathrow airport?”