Rogue Faction Part 1 Page 17
Setting his gun aside, Cyrus’s gaze moved around slowly. Gladd knew that look. He was considering the implications of what he now knew.
“You’ve been through this before,” Cyrus said.
Gladd nodded. He knew where this was going, but he was too tired and worn out to resist it. “Once,” he explained. “About twenty years ago, give or take. It was a training exercise. Everyone had to take a hit from that damn thing so they’d have a sense of what it was like. You know, how to deal with it whether they were using it on someone, or having it used on them?”
He could see from Cyrus’s grin that he knew exactly what he was talking about. The kid would’ve gone through the same thing, just a lot more recently.
“I’m a little surprised you were field certified after having a reaction like that,” Cyrus said.
It was the point that Gladd was dreading. While he knew himself to be a damn good agent, he also knew that such a handicap was a massive liability for his teammates, as well as any operation he was a part of.
“My instructor thought the whole thing was shitty,” Gladd explained. “I honestly think he was under the impression that the device malfunctioned. Whether it was that, or he just didn’t want me to wash out over something like that, I don’t know. But he never put it in the report, and they never bounced me for it.”
Gladd fidgeted in his bunk. “I know it wasn’t right, and it could’ve gotten you killed. I won’t make any excuses for it,” he explained. “I shouldn’t have even been here.”
With a jolt, Gladd suddenly sat fully upright. “Wait!” he gasped. “What the hell did happen? If they took me out, what happened to you?”
Cyrus laughed and rose from the bench. He made a motion with his hands, encouraging Gladd to calm down. Flipping the lid on the hard-shell case they’d brought aboard the train, Cyrus retrieved a bottle of Gatorade and handed it over.
“It’s okay,” Cyrus explained. “They sent two guys after you and one after me at the other end of the train. They were well organized and well prepared.”
“You got all three of them?” Gladd tried not to sound too surprised, but it didn’t work.
With a nod, Cyrus glanced at the dark blanket draped over a long object beneath the window. Gladd hadn’t noticed it at first, but now saw that it was wide enough to cover a man laid out on his back.
When Cyrus saw the confused look, he explained.
“There’s two of them under there. A man and a woman. This really big sonofabitch came after me in the dining car, but I was able to get rid of that body.”
“Can we do the same with these?” Gladd asked.
Cyrus shook his head. “These two went down hard. It was bloody. I was able to clean the mess off the windows, but there’s a hell of a mess under that blanket. Once the lights are turned on full, you can’t miss it. We can’t hide it like I did the other one.”
Leaning back against the wall, Gladd considered the situation. He was frustrated because he knew his mind was moving slower than it should.
“I’m sorry,” Gladd said finally. He realized this mess was his fault, and though he couldn’t fix it, he could at least own up to it. “You were right, I should never have been allowed out in the field.”
“What?” Cyrus asked defensively. “I never said that!”
“No,” Gladd clarified. “That’s not what I mean. I’m just saying that you’re right. I should’ve been drummed out of fieldwork after my first experience with a Taser. At first, I was just too young and proud to admit I was vulnerable. It was stupid. I’m old enough to know better now.”
“There’s a difference,” Cyrus offered. “You’re experienced enough to know better now. Not old enough. Your quirky relationship with electricity notwithstanding, you’re a professional, and you bring a lot of quality experience to an operation. If you ask me, it far outweighs one little problem like this. I mean, we all have our Kryptonite, don’t we?”
Despite himself, Gladd couldn’t help but laugh. “Still…this mess could’ve gotten us both killed.”
Considering his words, Cyrus just shrugged. “If we wanted to play it safe, we wouldn’t play with killers,” he countered. “Forget about it. This never happened. Your secret’s safe with me.”
That brought a new, hearty laugh from Gladd. “Easier said than done. The op is blown! All of this is for nothing. And it’s not like keeping it to ourselves will be an option when we head back to base with our tails between our legs.”
“You’re right,” Cyrus agreed. “We can’t keep this quiet if we pull the ripcord and head home now. But if we complete the mission, why would the brass question what happened here?”
“Great idea,” Gladd remarked, adding a sarcastic roll of his eyes. When he didn’t vomit from the maneuver, he was sure his health was improving. He was thinking more clearly too. That was a plus, even if it was a small one when compared to their poor circumstances. They might get off the train without the bodies being found, but it wouldn’t take long before someone discovered the grisly mess. When they did, it would be front-page news. There was no way Cyrus could continue his part of the mission by replacing the courier and delivering the package once the train made headlines.
“We can still complete the mission,” Cyrus elaborated. “The little one gave me the idea when she shot me.” He pointed to the short stack of dead bodies beneath the blanket.
Staring for a long moment while he processed Cyrus’s words, Gladd first thought he had misunderstood his partner. After a few long seconds, he finally found the words. “I’m sorry—did you say that you’ve been shot?”
Cyrus grinned and then pulled up the corner of his shirt to reveal a large white field dressing that was darkly stained with blood. Gladd watched—captivated, as Cyrus peeled back the dressing to show the ragged and bloody furrow that marked the lower left edge of his abdomen.
Glancing down at himself and then back at Gladd, Cyrus flashed a grin that further suggested the wound was the solution to all of their problems.
“Jesus!” Gladd leapt from the bunk, forgetting the pain, and descended on Cyrus. “Sit down, dammit! We gotta get this cleaned up!”
Raising a hand, Cyrus chuckled. “I cleaned it already. It’s good enough for now. It’s a through n’ through, and as far as I can tell, the slug didn’t fragment. The bitch was using Teflon coated rounds anyway. Apparently, they were afraid we might be wearing body armor.
“Anyway, just let it be. It can’t look professionally treated for what comes next.”
For Gladd’s part, he found himself only able to stare at the young agent. The kid had lost his mind.
“It’s going on quarter-to-five,” Cyrus explained. “So we need to get you back into fighting shape as soon as possible.”
Gladd’s mind snapped back to their present situation. “You think there will be more hitters waiting for us when we reach Hamburg station?”
Cyrus considered it. He looked back to the long dark blanket while pondering the idea. “I doubt it,” he admitted.
“Then what do you mean by back in fighting shape?”
“Oh,” Cyrus said. “Sorry, I guess I skipped that part. I need you to beat the hell out of me before the train reaches the station.”
Gladd looked at him. A big grin crossed his face. “And you think that my kicking your ass is going to save this mission?”
“Sure! See, all we need to do is—”
Holding up a hand, Gladd stopped his partner in his tracks. “No need,” he said. “You had me at kicking your ass. Whatever you have in mind for the rest of the plan, you can count me in!”
Chapter 30
3 Days Later
The Voss Compound
11:14 am
Stepping off the elevator, Anna Voss adjusted the jacket that was draped over her forearm and crossed the copper colored ceramic tile. The building’s common area was a wide, open space where her family shared a great deal of time. There were two groups of furniture, with one arranged before a large
entertainment center on one end of the space. A similar group was near the other end, surrounding the hearth of a large, modern-looking fireplace. Just past the fireplace was a smaller separated area with a wide formal dining room table surrounded with heavy wooden chairs. The ceiling towered five floors above, and the entire north wall was made of glass. It overlooked a small courtyard with a circular car turn-a-bout and an elaborate decorative fountain. The late morning sun blanketed the massive glass wall, bathing the tile floor and everything else inside with radiant warmth.
Behind Anna, each of the five floors above ended at a balcony that overlooked the common area on the ground floor. A transparent glass panel topped with a thick polished steel railing fronted each balcony, leaving an unimpeded view of what went on below.
The massive glass facade on the building’s north wall overlooked the small courtyard, which was surrounded by a twenty-foot stone wall. The wall circled the entire five-acre plot of land that the ultramodern building occupied. A pair of massive gates barred access to the facility via the street level, also located on the north side.
This mammoth complex was home to the Voss family, and one of the most secure locations on the island. A full security detail living on-site staffed the facility twenty-four hours a day, and they had long ago begun referring to her family home as, “The Compound.” It was fitting, she thought. Yet, even though the security personnel were part of her day-to-day life, she had never really understood the need for them.
The guard standing station beside the wide automated sliding door at the building’s entrance smiled as she approached.
“Will you be leaving the facility, ma’am?” he asked, as he pulled the small handheld radio from inside his tailored suit coat.
Anna nodded, offering a warm smile. “I’m meeting a couple of friends for coffee.”
“I’ll have your detail sent down,” the guard responded, before tapping the button on the side of his radio. He made a brief transmission before Anna could dissuade him.
“That’s not necessary,” she countered. “Maybe just Darya? I’m only going half a block down the street. There’s no need for a fuss.”
The guard tucked his radio away and shook his head. He offered a reluctant, if placating smile. “Sorry, miss. Dargo’s orders. You and your sister are to have at least three escorts at all times beyond the gates.”
Anna’s jaw dropped. “Three? What’s happened?”
“I’m sorry, ma’am, I don’t know. Those are the new orders as of 21:00 hours last night.” He looked uncomfortable being the one to inform her of the change in protocol. It was common knowledge that she didn’t appreciate her usual two-man detail.
“I can radio Dargo and have him come down to answer your questions, if you’d like,” he offered.
Anna’s mind ran with the implications of the news. Something must have happened. Dargo was overprotective to begin with, but three body guards? Something had obviously put him on high alert.
Her concern for the security precautions quickly took a backseat to other considerations, as she realized she would now have three very conspicuous escorts when she met with her friends. Her cheeks reddened at the thought. Such were the concerns of the twenty-year-old woman who had yet to experience life outside a 24/7, high security compound.
“So you won’t let me slide, just this once? I can take Darya—I’m only going down the street for coffee,” she insisted.
“Sorry, miss. It’s not my call,” the guard said, shaking his head.
The elevator door chimed at the back of the room and Anna turned to see three members of the security team emerge. They marched in her direction. There was some consolation; at least Darya was among them.
“Coffee with the girls?” the female security agent asked as she approached. “Or should I have the car brought up?”
“No, just coffee.” Anna offered Darya a sad smile. “What’s going on? What’s with the extra muscle?”
“Come on,” Darya said, as she stepped past the invisible sensor that activated the wide sliding glass doors. She led Anna and the pair of suited security men into the courtyard.
The morning air was brisk. Anna quickly responded by pulling on her jacket. It was especially chilly for the first few moments while they were under the building’s portico. As soon as they stepped into the sunshine however, the damp chill was driven away.
Darya led the group across the wide loop of pavement. The short double lane driveway started at the pair of wide solid iron and stone gates set in the perimeter wall fifty-feet away, before sweeping around a large, ornate water fountain, to pass under the portico at the building’s entrance. After that, the pavement continued, forming a loop that allowed vehicles to circle and head back to the street. Another section of asphalt swept wide to the right, leading to a fifteen-foot tall retractable garage door and the subterranean motor pool waiting beyond.
Letting the other two guards advance past them, Darya waited until the men were out of earshot. “We’re not supposed to talk about it,” she told Anna quietly. “Apparently, one of your father’s colleagues was attacked a few days ago in Paris. They’ve been collaborating on a project, so it’s unclear whether there is a threat to your father, his work, or you girls.”
The news stopped Anna in her tracks. She looked Darya in the eye. “Paris? You’re talking about Professor Ragsdale?”
Darya nodded. “You know him?”
“No,” she said quietly, considering what she knew of the man. “But I’ve heard father speak of him. They go way back. Is he alright?”
“I’m sorry,” Darya admitted. “I don’t know anything more. And, please, don’t let on that I told you this much. Dargo was specific about keeping this information to ourselves.”
Anna nodded absently. Her mind was running rampant with questions and concerns over what had happen to her father’s colleague. Could there be a legitimate reason for the increased security? For once, she didn’t feel that Dargo, the head of her father’s security team, was overreacting.
A buzzer sounded at the gate and pulled Anna’s attention back to the moment. All eyes turned to the structure, including Anna, Darya, and the additional pair of bodyguards. Another security guard stepped from the small, heated shack beside the gated entrance. He quickly looked to the two men on Anna’s security detail, concern evident on his face.
As the two men jogged the short distance across the drive to join the guard at the gate, Darya placed a hand on Anna’s arm and stopped her where she was.
“What’s going on?” Anna asked.
Darya held a hand to her ear as she listened to what was being broadcast over their security channel. Her eyes squinted in confusion as she tried to understand what was happening.
“Come on,” Darya commanded. “We need to get you inside, right now.”
Allowing herself to be led back to the building, Anna looked over her shoulder and wondered why the security team gathered around the small armored service door beside the massive front gates.
“What the devil is going on?” Anna insisted.
Darya refused to answer until she had Anna back inside and secure behind the facade of bulletproof glass. “There’s someone at the gate insisting on being let in,” she finally explained.
Anna found herself staring at the woman. There had to be more to it than that. What could the man at the gate have done to warrant such a response from security? Was he armed? Was he making threats? While dozens of questions flooded her mind, she found herself only able to look at Darya, anticipating the remainder of the story.
When Darya failed to elaborate, Anna had to bite back the scolding retort that passed through her mind. It was the woman’s responsibility to be forthcoming with such details, but more than that, she was a friend. What isn’t she saying?
“I don’t get it!” Anna finally bellowed. “Is he armed?”
Darya was slow to respond, but finally shook her head. That was when Anna realized that whatever was happening had her protector d
eeply concerned. She wasn’t being cagey—she was simply trying to process a great deal of information in a short period of time. Some part of what she knew seemed to be troubling the woman. This was unusual, because Anna had always known Darya to be shrewd and decisive.
Anna suddenly realized that she might be able to answer many of the questions on her own. She rushed to the security terminal beside the front door. The station had been abandoned when the guard was pulled from his post to see to the disturbance at the gate.
Her fingers flying across the keyboard, Anna pulled up the building’s security system and then displayed the video feed from the street outside. The video, like all parts of the security in the compound, was top notch. There were three camera views showing the man leaning against the service door’s frame on the sidewalk outside.
With a few additional keystrokes, Anna zoomed in and brought the stranger into crisp, clear detail. But what she saw only confused her further. Given the reaction of the security team, she’d expected the man to be brandishing a weapon or have a suicide vest strapped to his chest, bomb trigger in a raised hand. Strangely, the man didn’t seem to be armed at all. He didn’t even have a vehicle with him.
Anna’s eyes moved from the screen and over to Darya for clarification. But Darya was talking into her radio and hadn’t yet noticed what she was doing.
Adjusting the camera angle, Anna took a closer look. He was younger than she first thought. She initially mistook him as an older vagrant, but now saw that wasn’t the case. He was actually rather young. He was filthy—she looked closer…and bleeding. She suddenly realized that it wasn’t dirt all over his face, but bruises and cuts. He was hunched against the doorframe, not because he was a tired old man, but because he was injured and struggling to stay on his feet.
“Darya!” Anna called. “That man—you must let him in!”