“Long enough.”
“Why do you need my help?”
“The chip is inserted in my left wrist. I’m left handed, so if I attempt to cut it out with my right hand I’ll probably nick a vein. Do you think you can do it?”
Her eyes darted between the bottle of alcohol and the scissors. “Once at a rally, a friend of mine got cut by a police officer. I had to stitch her up. It wasn’t a good job but it helped.”
“I’ll take what I can get.”
Terra sorted through the items on the table. “I see no pain relief or anesthetic. I’ll be cutting into your wrist. You’ll lose a lot of blood and it’ll be painful.”
Seth picked up the whiskey bottle, opened it, and took a generous sip. “That’s what the whiskey is for. Are you ready?”
“I guess so.”
They both sat down and Seth placed his arm, palm up, on the table. Terra picked up the box cutter and lowered it to his skin, hesitating.
“What are you waiting for?” Seth hissed.
“Despite what you may have been planning for me back at that factory,” Terra said, “I’m a human advocate and find it hard to hurt another person.”
Seth took another swig of whiskey and rolled his eyes. “Woman, just do it. If you don’t, I’ll find someone else in this nice, upstanding, prudish neighborhood to do it for me.”
All right, just don’t cry about it later, okay?”
As soon as the blade sliced into his skin, Seth instantly regretted his decision. The pain was unbearable. Blood bubbled up from the wound like lava. He sucked away on the whiskey until the room started spinning. Having no food in his gut only accelerated the vertigo.
“How are you doing?” Terra’s voice sounded distant.
“Is it out yet?”
“Almost.” There was a sharp jab of pain and the chip was removed. “There. It’s out now. See?”
Through a drunken haze, he could see his own blood spotting the table and the little chip sitting by a basket of oranges. “How much blood did I lose?”
“Stop asking questions. Let me handle it.” Terra sounded oddly confident about the whole event. As she cleaned and stitched up the wound, she said, “How did you know I wouldn’t cut into your wrist and make you bleed out? I could’ve easily killed you.”
“You told me you couldn’t hurt another human being. I believed you.”
“I never got your name,” Terra said.
“Now’s not a good time.”
“I’m Terra.”
“I know.”
“Tell me yours.”
“Ouch, fuck! It’s Seth.”
“Well, Seth, I think after this moment, you and I have been very well acquainted.”
Chapter Nine
The cigar could only do so much for Spencer’s anxiety. He rolled the smoldering cigar between his fingers, spewing dense smoke into the air. It couldn’t snuff the ache in his chest.
Through the haze, he could see Joca Ryan standing like a soldier, chest out, shoulders back, arms behind his buttocks. Next to him was the diminutive Dawson Degan. The man looked like a mouse in comparison to the robust Joca. With his curved spine, hooked nose, outlandish curls, and pot belly, he’d deemed Dawson too ‘ugly’ to be placed out in the field, despite his score of 1500 on his field test.
“Gentlemen, thank you for taking time out of your busy schedules to meet me today.” Spencer stabbed his cigar into the ashtray, no longer in the mood for it. He knew the reason for his unease. “Sadly, I can’t say it’s on good terms. Dawson, has Seth Langdon returned from his kill in Oklahoma?”
The man’s bottom lip trembled. “No, sir.”
“When were we expecting him?”
“About four hours ago,” he replied. “He’s normally not late. Something may have happened to him.”
“You don’t have to feign concern, Dawson. Where is he?”
“His last known whereabouts wasn’t in Oklahoma. It’s Tulsa City, sir. I lost connection about an hour ago. I’m not sure if he’s still in Tulsa.”
“Tulsa? I didn’t fucking send him to Tulsa. Did he arrive at the factory?”
“Yes sir, at 9 a.m. as scheduled. About two hours later, the tracker lost signal,” Dawson explained.
“Why would that be? Is there something wrong with our system?”
“I don’t believe so.”
“Please enlighten us.”
“There could be many reasons. Langdon could be in an environment which may interfere with the signal.”
“Or?”
“He cut it out of his wrist.”
Spencer knew that may have been the case. He curled his fists underneath the desk and looked over at Joca. “What are you going to do to fix this? He was under your supervision.”
“Sir, I can’t watch Langdon every minute of the day. I’m not his babysitter.”
“Why weren’t you accompanying him on this kill, Ryan? For God’s sake, I thought you were training him!”
Joca’s eyebrows lowered. “He was ready, sir. He showed initiative at the Dallas kill and I didn’t think I needed to be there.”
Spencer rose to shove a finger in Joca’s chest. “He was eliminating a high profile target. You of all people should know the significance of this. Until we can prove otherwise, Langdon has committed treason. Do we know why he decided to run away with his target?”
Both men shook their heads.
“Fuck!” Spencer reached for his cigar and forgot it was snuffed out. It only angered him more. He picked up a bronze paperweight and hurled it across the room. It shattered a potted plant to pieces. “From today onwards, all leave and overtime is cancelled. You two are working with me twenty-four seven to find Seth. Got it?”
“Yes, sir,” they said in unison.
His gaze crossed to Joca once more. “This falls on you if he’s untraced. Find him at any expense. I want him bought back alive! No excuses.”
***
Seth
The sun bled into the horizon as Seth and Terra caught a sky tram back to his apartment. The move was risky and probably suicidal, but if he’d started a war with Spencer Hack, he needed an entire arsenal.
After hitching a ride from the safe house in Tulsa to yet another, he was eager to get home. He thumbed the soft white flesh around his sewn tracker wound. Though it ached from time to time, it wasn’t infected and was healing nicely. Terra had done a good job.
He looked at her across the tram, nestled between two overweight women. She caught him staring and turned away, glancing out the window. They couldn’t get a seat together, having to ride separately. It was probably for the better though; they were a bigger target if spotted as one unit.
However, Seth kept his wits about him. Spencer had spies all around the country. If he’d put out an alert on his disappearance, there would be hundreds of agents gunning for his head. At the moment, he seemed to be safe from his fellow brothers.
When they arrived at the stop, Seth motioned Terra to follow closely behind. He walked through the station with a hand over his pistol, eyeing every passenger who walked by. His apartment was across the road and they joined the mass on the sidewalk waiting for the light to change.
“What are you expecting when you get home?” Terra asked.
“It’s still early days. My boss has probably alerted some people of my treason, but it’ll only get worse. That’s why I want to get what I need from home and move on again.”
They crossed the road and entered the apartment building. When they were out of sight, he drew his pistol and hugged the walls as he travelled down the hallway. Terra mirrored his movements behind him.
When they reached the apartment, Seth noticed his lock was broken and door ajar. He pressed a hand against Terra’s torso, pushing her back a few feet. “Stay out of sight. I don’t know who may be on the other side.”
With his pistol drawn, he entered the darkened apartment. A sliver of moonlight cast across the living room, revealing chairs tossed aside, kitchen
drawers opened and dishes on the floor.
“Lights on.”
Just as he had feared, the apartment had been ransacked. The carpet was littered with torn pieces of paper, snapped hologram movies, food scraps, and contents of opened desk drawers. Even paintings on the walls had been taken down and knifed to shreds.
“What were they looking for?” Terra entered the room tentatively, stepping on the remains of a two thousand credit crystal vase.
Seth picked up a broken picture frame of his parents and tossed it aside. “Nothing. This was just a warning.” He glanced to his looted bedroom. “I hope they didn’t find the real prize.”
Terra followed him, her interest piqued by the circumstances, sidestepping strewn clothes and Seth’s smashed television screen on the floor. He left the room and came back with a large kitchen knife.
“My weapons cache. I stockpiled it years ago in case I needed to use it.”
Dropping to one knee, he tore at the carpet beside his bed, ripping and cutting until a large mass of concrete was exposed. Reaching underneath the timber frame, he pulled out a sledgehammer. He was glad they’d forgotten to look under the bed.
“Was this what your mother always wanted of you?” Terra questioned as Seth heaved the first blow into the concrete.
“My mother is dead,” he replied between breaths.
“What are your dreams then? It’s surely not digging up weapons under three feet of concrete.”
He wiped sweat off his brow. “Honestly, woman, do you need to ask the philosophical questions now?”
She shrugged. “I’m quite fascinated by you, Seth. You’re the type of man I protest on the street or ridicule on my blog. There’s something very odd about you.”
“Gee, thanks.”
Fifteen minutes later, Seth had successfully dug up his little bag of goodies. Spreading the items on the bed, he counted two rocket launchers, six grenades, two SPAS-12 shotguns, and a long range sniper rifle, three Uzis, an AK-47, and six boxes of ammunition. There were other heavy items inside that were worthless. Anything that held a battery or could plug into an outlet would be left behind.
Terra’s eyes widened at the sight of the booty. She picked up one of the grenades and bobbed it up and down in her hand. “I’ve never seen one in the flesh. They’ve got some weight to them, don’t they?”
“Give me that.” Seth ripped the grenade from her fingers and placed it back down on the bed. “These aren’t toys. You can’t play with them.” He surveyed his arsenal with a frown. “I thought I had some handguns in here but I must have tossed them after a kill. Guess I’ll have to buy some more.”
“How are we going to get around with all these weapons?” Terra asked. “They scan you everywhere these days and someone will spot us.”
Seth thought of his beloved Phoenix Manu parked in the basement and felt a little part of him die inside. He’d have to sever all emotional ties to that car since it would be the first thing Spencer would be searching for. “We can’t take my car because it’ll be tracked, so we’ll have to rely on public transport until I can get another one.”
While Terra stood by the bed nibbling on her nails, he handpicked the weaponry they could take with them—the grenades, the AK-47, ammo, and a pouch of Clandestine. Everything else was too bulky to carry. Seth zipped up the duffel bag and threw it over his shoulder. “All right, we better move. My apartment will be on watch twenty-four/seven.”
“Where do we go now?”
“I need to buy more guns.”
As they were walking out of the apartment, Seth added quietly, “Bolu, Turkey.”
“Excuse me?”
“You wanted to know what my dreams and aspirations were. I want to retire in Bolu and live in a house on the lake until my dying days.”
“That wasn’t so hard, was it?”
***
Seth stabbed a fork into his melting apple pie, calling Trix for the umpteenth time that afternoon. When she answered, he wasn’t expecting the growl on the other end.
“Seth, it’s two o’clock in the afternoon. I have to start my shift in three hours.”
He’d forgotten she slept through the day on Friday. “Sorry, baby. I didn’t mean to wake you. I haven’t seen you in a few days so I wanted to hear your voice.”
“Where have you been?” He heard sheets rustling as she got out of bed. “It’s like you’ve dropped off the face of the planet.”
“I’ve been crazy with work. The pest control business is booming. You know I don’t like us spending time apart.” Seth paused and waited for her to respond. When his end met silence, he continued. “I have to go out of the state on assignment so I’ll be unavailable for a few days.”
“Where are you going?”
“I’m not sure yet. I’ll get my papers tomorrow.”
As he hoped, the little vixen inside her came out to play. “When you’re back, I expect a good ol' screwfest,” she purred. “It’s my birthday in one month, remember?”
“I haven’t forgotten. I’ll give you something you won’t forget.”
“Seth, be careful, okay? The world is fucked up enough as it is.”
He bit the inside of his cheek. By abandoning Spencer and everything he stood for inexplicably put Trix in the firing line. He wanted to keep her separate and safe from whatever may occur. “Stay safe too. If you think you’re in danger, call me or my friend Carmichael. I’ll send you his number.”
“Seth, you’re scaring me. What’s going on?”
He glanced at Terra sitting across from him, sucking on a strawberry milkshake. “I have some things Spencer wants taken care of immediately. I’ll be turning my phone off for a while, however, I’ll be back in contact soon.”
“Okay, be safe. I love you.”
Seth hung up and stared into the gooey mess on his plate. He wondered if moving her to a safe house would do any good. Then he remembered Spencer had spies everywhere. Trix would be found.
“Telling your girlfriend a white lie isn’t going to get you any brownie points,” Terra said.
“Can you butt out of my life for one minute?” he shot back, reaching for his perspiring glass of beer.
She leaned across the table. “I would, but you’re the one who sucked me into your life. I’m just here for the ride.”
He spooned the rest of the pie in his mouth and gathered his things. “We gotta move.”
“Where are you dragging me to now?”
“I need to buy some protection.”
He exited the diner into the sun drenched car park. Luckily for him, some Americans were still attached to old fashioned values and refused to upgrade their cars. He spotted a 1987 Lincoln stationed in the corner of the car park and casually approached it. He wobbled the door handles to see if it was alarmed. The back passenger door opened and he slipped into the suede seats.
“What are you doing?” Terra hissed. “These people are country folk. They eat breakfast with their shotgun on the table.”
“Shut up and get in.” Seth unlocked the front door and climbed into the driver’s seat.
She took once more glance around the parking lot and jumped in as he pulled wires out from underneath the steering wheel.
“Do you know what you’re doing?”
He yanked two red wires free and stripped the insulation with a knife from his pocket. Twisting them together, he sorted through the complexity of wires until he found the brown ignition cable. He remembered this one because he used to spend his summers watching his father repair their family cars.
Keeping one eye on the diner exit, he connected the two red wires with the brown and said a silent prayer. They sparked as soon as they made contact, bringing the engine out of stasis.
“You’re a man of many talents,” Terra said dryly as they drove out of the lot.
“Honey, you have no idea.”
Two hours later, when the sun crested the horizon, they pulled up outside a dilapidated shop front in Wichita, Oklahoma. The windows were
boarded up and the ‘Welcome’ sign had chipped and rotted over time.
Seth climbed out of the car and knocked on the door three times. A slot opened and a pair of eyes stared back at him. “Who are you?”
“I’m interested in purchasing some of your merchandise.”
“What’s the passcode?”
“Four red dogs in a row.”
When Terra stepped into view, the slot closed and the old wooden door squeaked open with renewed vigor. An old man, dressed in faded overalls with thinning gray hair greeted them with a friendly, toothless grin. “If the broad’s coming in too, I’ll kick everyone out so you can have the place to yourself.”
“That won’t be necessary,” Seth said. “What’s the deal here? Is there a bartering system? And no, the woman isn’t for sale.”
The old man crossed his arms over his chest. “What do you have?”
Seth dug around in his pockets and gave the man a swollen baggie of Clandestine. “Will that do?”
He inspected it with his one good eye. “Yeah, that will do. The basement door is at the back of the room. Watch out for rats, though. We breed ‘em the size of horses around here.”
The man stepped aside, rolling his newly acquired pure Clandestine between his fingers, and Seth and Terra entered the store.
“Why are we here?” Terra asked, making her way down the rickety staircase. A bulb hung on a wire above her head, swinging in the draft coming up from the basement.
“This place sells unregistered guns at a good price,” Seth replied. “From here on in, you’re probably going to be dealing with professional criminals who like playing with big guns. We need to get you familiar with a weapon. Have you ever used a handgun?”
“Does it look like I handle guns?”
“A .22 will do nicely then. It has low recoil so it won’t bite you in the face every time you fire.”
“You know a lot about guns.”
“I’ve been doing this for a long time, honey.”
The concrete room held half a dozen men handling handguns, rifles, and shotguns, chatting among themselves. They all stopped and turned when the pair entered the room. Seth flinched at the sudden touch upon his arm, his head snapping toward Terra beside him.
Rogue Agent Page 9
