Rogue Operator (37 page)

Kane
laughed, saluting with the file, then headed out the door and to the Hilton
Beijing, where one
very
lost Tom Pile would like his room and luggage,
if possible, for his last night in Beijing.

CIA Headquarters, Langley, Virginia

Chris Leroux stepped into Director Morrison’s office and took a
seat, as did Sherrie White. There was no doubt in Morrison’s mind that the two
kids were now in a relationship. The question was, what to do about it, if
anything. If they were just two analysts, he’d ignore it unless it became too
blatant, but they weren’t. He was an analyst, and she was an agent, albeit
junior agent.

And
already she’s in an unauthorized relationship.

Or was
she? Morrison had to admit he wasn’t sure if the relationship was mutual. She
could be just taking her cover to the extreme—some of the female agents
treating sex like much ado about nothing. He was old fashioned. A one woman
guy, married for more years than he could count, and faithful the entire time.
But kids nowadays thought sex was just a three letter word, and life was a rap
video, where everyone was having sex with everybody.

He hoped
for Leroux’s sake that wasn’t the case. He was a good kid, a loner, who
deserved to be happy, even if it was only for a short while.

When the
door was closed by his aide, he held up his finger, indicating silence, then
removed a small device from his desk drawer. He activated the radio frequency
jammer as an added precaution against any eavesdropping.

“I just
wanted to congratulate you two on the excellent work you’ve done over the past
few days. You’ll be happy to know that we were able to successfully rescue two
of the scientists and their families, destroy the research, and eliminate the
third scientist who had initiated this entire thing.”

Leroux
and White exchanged excited glances, and Morrison saw pinkies touch for a
moment.

“As
well, we’ve taken down BlackTide, and begun an investigation into how far their
ties go, and how deep into the government this may stretch. But there’s one
thing I need you to look into, that has been kept off the official record.”

Leroux
leaned forward. “What’s that?”

Morrison
could hear the eagerness in his voice, could tell the young man wanted in, but
Morrison also knew the dangers.

“Now,
this is strictly voluntary. It could be extremely dangerous. We don’t know who
these people are, or how high up they go, or even if they’re real, but if you take
on this project, you could become a target again.”

Leroux
blanched a little, then sucked in a deep breath.

“If I
don’t do it, will someone else have to?”

Morrison
nodded. “It’s too important to ignore.”

“Then I
guess that settles it. I’m in.”

Morrison’s
respect for Leroux ratcheted up a few more notches, and he could see the
visible effect it had on his young female companion, who stared at him with
bright eyed pride.

“Here’s
what we know about them,” said Morrison, holding open an empty file folder. “Nothing.”

“Nothing?”

“Nothing.
Except what they are called.”

Morrison
leaned forward, lowering his voice.

“The
Assembly.”

Chris Leroux Residence, Fairfax Towers, Falls Church, Virginia

Chris was devastated. He had held himself together for the drive
home, for the sweep of his apartment, and for the goodbye to the security
detail as he closed his door, but then any bit of self-control he had was lost.
He dropped onto the couch, and sobbed, oblivious to the fact the apartment had
been put back together as if no shootout had occurred here the night before.

His
heart was ripping in pieces. After the meeting, Sherrie had asked to talk to
the Director alone. He had left, puzzled, and returned to his desk to begin
setting up the dummy accounts that just might protect him from The Assembly,
when a man entered his office and introduced himself. He was the new head of
his security detail.

“What
about Sherrie?”

“She
requested reassignment.”

“Why?”

The man
shrugged his shoulders. “No clue. Job was done, I guess. I’ll be heading your
new protection detail.” And then there had been an hour long get to know you
session that Chris could barely remember a word of, his answers delivered on
autopilot as his mind reeled with the news Sherrie was gone.

He
hugged the pillow under his head tighter, the tears burning his eyes as his
chest heaved.
I swear I’ll never love anyone again. It’s just not worth the
pain.
He bit the pillow, trying to drown out the agony, when he heard a
throat clear behind him.

He
jumped up, nearly shitting his pants, to find Kane standing in the hallway.

“Sorry,
dude, I didn’t mean to intrude.”

Leroux’s
pain was quickly replaced by shame as he wiped the tears off his face, and
looked at his friend standing there, beer in hand.

“I
thought I’d let myself in and surprise you. Guess I should have knocked.”

Chris
still said nothing, instead sitting up and staring at the floor. Kane
approached and sat down on the other end of the couch.

“Women
problems?”

Chris
burned red, but nodded.

“Want me
to kill her?”

Chris
laughed, something he hadn’t thought he’d do for a long time after this latest
devastation in his personal life, and glanced at Kane who had a grin on his
face.

“I can
do it you know. They’ll never find the body.”

Chris
sat up and curled one leg under the other, looking at his friend, perhaps his
only friend.

“She
requested reassignment.”

Kane
nodded, a sympathetic smile on his face.

“That’s
tough, dude. Real harsh.”

“You
have no idea.”

“Trust
me, it happens to everybody at least once. Just remember though, if it works
out in the end, all the earlier heartbreaks are worth it.”

“Yeah, I
think I’ll be avoiding relationships for a decade or two.”

There
was a knock on the door.

Kane
held up his hand.

“I’ll
get it,” he said, putting the beer down and standing up. Chris noticed Kane
gripped a gun tucked into his belt as he stepped into the hallway. The door
opened, and he heard murmurs, then the click of the door closing. “Look what I
found begging at the door,” said Kane’s voice.

Chris
looked up and saw Sherrie standing there, a huge smile on her face, and an
overnight bag in her hand.

“Care
for some company?” she asked.

Chris’
heart leapt and the thousand shards it had been ripped into suddenly repaired
themselves like a magician’s torn newspaper. He jumped from the couch, then
stopped.

“But—I
don’t understand? You requested reassignment!”

“Of
course I did, silly. I can’t very well have a relationship with you,
and
be your bodyguard.”

“You
mean—” Chris couldn’t bring himself to hope, let alone finish, the words.

Sherrie
suddenly looked crestfallen, her jaw dropping and tears filling her eyes. She
dropped her bag and walked toward him, arms outstretched. “Did you think I
dumped you, that I was just pretending this entire time?”

Chris
felt the tears burning again, and tried to fight them back, not wanting to
embarrass himself. He looked away.

Sherrie
wrapped her arms around him and buried her head in his chest. “You silly man.
What kind of a girl do you think I am?”

Chris felt
the pit in his stomach replaced with butterflies as she looked up at him, and
he down at her. He kissed her gently, the passion growing, until he remembered
they weren’t alone. He forced himself away, turning to his friend.

Who was
no longer there.

“Where’d
he go?”

Sherrie
pulled his face back toward hers.

“He’s an
agent. Probably where you’d least expect him.”

St. Paul’s University, Maryland

Kane peered through the rear door at the class in progress.
Much
more popular than I remember.
He opened the door and stepped inside, making
sure the door closed quietly behind him. Taking a seat in the very back, he
pulled his ball cap low, leaving his sunglasses on, and listened to his
favorite professor talk about the latest finds at his dig site in Peru.

Kane had
kept tabs on Professor James Acton since he had heard the news reports he was
missing, his entire team massacred at the very dig site he was now talking
about. Needless to say he had been relieved reports of the Doc’s death were
premature and exaggerated, and ever since, he had used his contacts to keep an
eye on him and his exploits across the globe, cringing every time he read the
briefs.

This was
the man he had modeled himself after in a fashion. Kane knew he wasn’t an
intellectual, but neither was the Doc. James Acton was an adventurer, trapped in
an intellectual’s profession. A modern day reluctant hero who had a knack for
being in the wrong place at the wrong time, but always doing the right thing,
even if it meant risking his own life and running toward the danger.

Kane had
yearned to talk to the professor, to tell him what had come of his life, to
tell him what he was
doing
. But it wasn’t just that. Kane yearned to
tell someone. He couldn’t tell his folks, it would put them at risk. As far as
they were concerned, he did indeed work for Shaw’s of London, travelling the
globe on various insurance fraud investigations. And the amount of fretting his
mom did just hearing about the cover stories sealed the deal on him ever
telling them the truth.

She’d die
from worry.

He knew
his dad would be fiercely proud, but worried for him as well.

And they
didn’t need that in their lives.

But he
needed a confessor. Someone he could talk to. Someone he could get things off
his chest to.

Someone
he could trust.

He
trusted Chris, but Chris was nearly his age. He needed a
father
confessor,
not a younger brother. And Chris didn’t need to be burdened with the knowledge
Kane carried. He smiled as he pictured his friend kissing a spectacular
specimen that he hoped would treat him right. He would have loved to have stayed
and spent time with them, but he knew his friend needed to be alone with his
new partner, and he would have just been in the way.

He’d see
him again.

After
leaving Chris with Sherrie, he had arranged a simple message for a hurting
detective in Ogden, left on the seat of his car.

Your
partner has been avenged.

He was
pretty sure it was true. Atticus Tucker was dead, and Bradley Finch had
disappeared without a trace, and that just didn’t happen. There was always a
trace. Perhaps not a trace that could actually be
traced
, but in this
case there wasn’t even a hint of an escape from the country, accounts being
accessed, reported sightings.

Kane’s
guess was The Assembly had eliminated him.

The idea
of The Assembly terrified him. If they were indeed real, the world had a bigger
problem than two rogue executives trying to start a war. These people would try
again, and more innocents like the Peterson’s and Shephard’s could be put at
risk.

They had
to be taken down, but right now, he didn’t even know where to start.

His
debrief after the mission had indicated the rescued scientists and their
families had been shocked to find he wasn’t on the submarine with them, and
were even more shocked when they were told their cover stories. “Fantasy
kidnapping.” Phil Hopkins had died in a fishing accident, his body never found,
and Jason and Carl returned to their rebuilt lab, continuing their research. He
knew they’d have a hell of a time recovering from their ordeal, and the outlandish
cover story was designed with little Darius in mind. There was no way an eight
year old could keep a secret like this, but if there was an alternate
explanation, he’d be dismissed as confusing the fantasy vacation with reality.

It’s
actually not a bad cover idea, come to think of it.

The
class suddenly rose, emptying quickly. Kane waited, knowing full well if the
Doc he remembered and respected were true to form, he’d wait until the last
student left.

And he
did.

Kane
finally rose, walking down the steps to the bottom of the room where the
professor stood, erasing the chalkboard.

“Professor
Acton?”

The man
who had helped him over ten years ago make the decision that had led him to
becoming a spy for his country, turned to face him, a puzzled expression on his
face as he tried to place the face that stood before him, then a smile spreading
wide as he made the connection.

“Dylan!”

And
before Kane realized what was happening, his mentor had embraced him, holding
him tight for several seconds, Kane returning the hug, not realizing how much
he needed it. Acton released him, but continued to hold him by the shoulders.

“How are
you? How have you been?”

Kane
smiled. “I’ve been good.”

“Been
keeping yourself out of trouble?”

“No more
than you have.”

Acton
frowned, letting him go and pointing to a chair. Kane sat down, Acton across
from him.

“I take
it that means you’re still in the Army?”

Kane
shook his head.

“No,
that ended quite a few years ago.”

Acton’s
eyes narrowed. “I get the sense there’s a ‘but’.”

Kane
took a deep breath.
To Hell with it
. He needed a confidante, he needed
someone he could trust, and he needed someone who had been to hell and back,
that understood what it was like to kill or be killed, to make choices that
could mean the death of innocents.