Swords of Exodus [Dead Six 02] (18 page)

“What do you have left?”

“I’m fleshing out our Spanish mining corporation. We’ve even got a bitchin’ webpage. Jihan’s slave mines are turning out a lot of metal. It will take a couple of days for the money to transfer over. Jill’s going to be the negotiator. You’re the interpreter. I’m a technician. I’ve contacted Uri in Volgostadorsk—”

“Little Federov? The gun runner?”

“Obviously. Our mining company is going to bribe him not to molest our
survey gear
on the rail line to The Crossroads. You know how those greedy Russian bastards are, and I don’t want my good shit stolen.”

“How much?”

“A hundred grand.”

“Our gear damn well better be left alone. You do remember I stabbed Uri’s brother in the kidney, right?”

“No, a mysterious super-thief who worked for Big Eddie stabbed his brother. You’re just a lowly interpreter. And it was in the spleen, not the kidney. You’re thinking of the other guy. Train shot Federov’s cousin in the kidney.”

“Oh yeah, that was awesome.” I chuckled. “Good times . . . Speaking of which, I’m a little rusty. I’m going to go shooting.”

“Actual targets, or seagulls? ‘Cause I don’t think Jill likes it when you shoot the seagulls.”

“A seagull
is
an actual target. I think of them as my own interactive pop-up range.” I needed the practice, and besides, it helped me blow off steam.

My performance in Montana hadn’t been good enough. I’d been slow. I’d let some wounded jackass escape. I’d missed a few shots and my reactions weren’t what they used to be. That was simply unacceptable. The paper targets had been shredded, replaced, and shredded again. I’d lost count of how many hundred rounds I’d fired today, but there was a pile of spent brass in the sand underfoot, and my thumbs hurt from loading magazines.

The island wasn’t that big, but I was using suppressed weapons, and the Montalbans had fenced off this secluded area. There wasn’t a damn thing else I could do until Reaper was done with his prep work. It gave me time to train and time to think.

Bob had been taken in The Crossroads. He’d been poking around in a warlord’s business, so that wasn’t a surprise. My one supposed lead was a basket case who apparently knew jack and shit about what this was all about. The timer beeped. I shouldered my new Remington ACR and put a controlled pair into each of the target’s center of mass. I checked the timer’s recording of the last shot.
Not good enough.
I reset the timer and went again.

I didn’t know if I could trust Exodus, but what choice did I have? They were up to something in The Crossroads, but wouldn’t divulge what it was. That meant that the only resources I could really rely on were me, Reaper, and Jill, who I wasn’t comfortable with taking at all. Not that she hadn’t proven herself capable at this sort of work, but taking her to The Crossroads filled me with dread.

I heard the four-wheeler coming a long way off. It made a lot more noise than a 5.56 with a can on it. I emptied the carbine’s magazine into the last target’s head, put it on the table to cool, and waited for Jill to arrive.

She parked behind me and killed the Honda’s engine. “What’re you doing?”

I shrugged. “Practicing.”

“You’re sweating.”

That’s because I’d been doing a set of push-ups or sprints between the strings of fire. Shooting was more challenging when your arms burned and you were short of breath. “It’s a warm day.”

Jill got off the four-wheeler and came over. “What’s wrong, Lorenzo?”

“Valentine pulled a gun on me.”

“Shocking. I warned you not to be pushy . . . And you didn’t kill him.”

“Thought about it,” I muttered.

“I’m impressed. What else is bugging you?”

She knew me too well. I’d thought long and hard about this. “The idea of you going to The Crossroads. I really don’t think you realize what that place is like or what the kind of people who work there are like.”

“I understand the risks.” She folded her arms. “I know what I’m doing. We play it low key. We’re just investigating. We’re not looking for a fight. Come on, you’ve taught me all sorts of stuff. You admitted yourself that I’m talented at your sort of business.”

“You’re a talented
beginner.
”

“I can take care of myself.” Jill went to the table, picked up my STI 9mm, lifted it and quickly shot the furthest target twice in the chest, and after the briefest instant, square in the face. She’d become an excellent shot.

“The men that took Bob aren’t made out of cardboard.”

“Neither was the Fat Man or the other jerks I shot that night.”

That was true. She’d never choked under pressure yet. “I don’t want you to get hurt . . .”

“Well, duh. And?”

I sighed. “I need help, but I don’t have to like it, and I sure as hell don’t like putting you in danger.”

“You’re cool putting Reaper in danger. I’m tougher than Reaper.”

“Sure, but I’m not . . .” I hesitated. “I’m not in love with Reaper.”

“Wow.” Jill looked at me for a long time, but luckily she didn’t get all weird on me. “That’s remarkably sentimental by your standards. And good about Reaper, because
ewww
. . . that would be awkward for everybody.” Jill grinned.

“Here’s the thing. The Crossroads is a city of bad guys. You’re not a bad guy, Jill.”

“Nope. I’m not. You know I’ve got no interest in the things you’ve done in the past, and if this was just some heist then I’d tell you to go to hell, you’re on your own. Because I’m not a bad guy, but this time,
neither are you
. You rescued Val from evil men. You’re going to The Crossroads on a
rescue mission
. For once, relatively speaking, you’re not the bad guy here.”

“I . . . Well . . .”
Holy shit. She was right.

“Listen, I know you’re scared.” She held up a hand before I could protest. “Yeah, yeah, you’re not afraid of anything, whatever. Spare me. I have to do this. Bob didn’t hesitate to help when I was the one in danger. He’s off on a mission to bring down the bunch of corrupt assholes that ruined my life. So what kind of hypocrite would I be if I stayed here safe in my island mansion while you go off on a dangerous rescue mission and get killed because I wasn’t there to help?”

We’d already had this fight, and I’d already had to admit she was right. I needed help, but I certainly didn’t have to like it. “Fine.” I tossed her another mag of 9mm. She caught it. “Get to work then.”

VALENTINE

The deep rhythm of the rolling waves helped clear my head.

It had been an emotionally overwhelming few days. Dr. Bundt had sat me down in the beach house to look me over. It was strange to see this man again. The last time we’d met, I’d just woken up in another unfamiliar place, on board an Exodus ship, after having a traumatic brain injury where he’d had to drill a hole in my skull to drain a subdural hematoma.

Sitting there, getting quizzed, while he’d shined lights into my eyes, had just been too much. I’d been poked and prodded and questioned enough. I found myself having an anxiety attack, almost a panic attack. I stood up so fast I startled the old man, and took off out the door. I had gone back to my shady palm tree, sat down on the sand, and stared out over the water, trying to regain my composure.

Hours passed with nobody showing up, leaving me alone with my thoughts. The sky was on fire as the Sun slowly sank below the horizon. The clouds burst with shades of red and purple, and the sky itself was almost golden. A few days before, my only goal in life, as I dimly recalled it, had been to live long enough to see the sky again. Now I was in paradise, watching the most beautiful sunset I’d ever seen. For the last couple of days I hadn’t known hunger, fear, nor cold. I’d had plenty of rest, good food, all the sunshine I wanted.

It was too much. It was just too much. Completely overwhelmed, I sat under that palm tree and stared helplessly into the sunset until the sky darkened. The stars began to shine overhead when the Sun finally sank below the sea. There are few things more routine and constant than the rising and setting of the Sun, but at that moment, you would have thought I’d never seen it before.

Ling came to me as the horizon darkened. I was so lost in thought I didn’t notice her approach. “Hello,” she said, pulling me back to reality. “Dr. Bundt told me what happened. He said it was best to give you some time to adjust. I hope I’m not disturbing you.”

“It’s fine,” I said simply.

Ling seemed unconvinced. She sat next to me in the sand. “I know what it’s like, you know.” I looked a question at her. She brushed a few errant strands of hair out of her face before explaining, “When Exodus rescued me, I was still very young. Yet in those years I’d lost my family, fought in a war, been injured, and barely avoided being killed in the destruction of Shanghai. Yet after surviving all of that, I was made a slave. They kept me chained to a bed in a shack, letting me outside only to relieve myself. I wanted to die. I gave up hope completely.

“When Exodus saved me, it took a long time for me to accept it. I didn’t speak for almost a month. I was afraid to. I was afraid it wasn’t real, as if . . . well, it seems silly now, but I had this idea in my head that if I spoke, it would break the spell, end the dream, and I’d wake up under my tattered blanket, still chained to that wretched bed.”

I said nothing, but I was consumed with a feeling of guilt. Well, not guilt exactly, but rather shame. I looked over at Ling and wondered. This woman was about the same age as me, maybe a couple years older. She had easily seen as much, if not more, horror in her life than I had. From what little I knew of her captivity, it had been far worse than mine. I feared many things during my short time in North Gap, but I’d never once been concerned that I was going to be gang-raped. Feeling pathetic, and not sure what to say, I wrapped my arms around my legs and stared at the sand.

Ling startled me by placing her hand on my shoulder. “I’m not telling you this to make you feel bad, Michael. I’m not trying to . . . how would you say,
one-up
you with my own story. It’s important that you understand you’re not alone. I know what you’ve been through. Many of us do. People like you make up the heart and soul of Exodus.”

Her face was illuminated by the same milky moonlight that shimmered off of the calm Caribbean Sea. “Are you trying to recruit me?” I asked flatly.

She smiled at me and squeezed my shoulder. “No. Though I think you’d make a fine addition to our order. I tried to recruit you for some time after seeing what you were capable of in Mexico. But after all you’ve been through, after all that’s happened, and knowing you as well as I do now . . . no. You’re not ready, Michael. Exodus isn’t a job. It’s a lifelong commitment. It’s an oath. You don’t just join, you become part of it, and it becomes part of you. Much devotion is required. You . . . your heart belongs elsewhere, I think. Your loyalties lie elsewhere. You just do not know where that is now that you have been betrayed by your country. Am I incorrect?”

I had to think about that for a moment. Normally I didn’t like it when people analyzed me, especially after months at the mercy of a mad scientist drilling into my subconscious with drugs and machines, but coming from Ling, it didn’t feel invasive. I wasn’t being prodded or interrogated. Her simple honesty put me at ease.

“No. Maybe. But it wasn’t my country that betrayed me. The
government
did. There’s a big difference. Our system was never perfect, but I think it’s falling apart now. I mean, that’s no surprise, things had been getting worse for a long time. I lived out of the country for almost five years straight when I worked for Vanguard. Every time I came home things seemed a little bit worse somehow. Even the government isn’t just some big faceless entity. It’s people. People did this to me. They chose to do this to me. They made their decisions, and I made mine. They’re probably used to there not being any consequences for those decisions, but I made sure at least one of them paid a price.”

Ling smiled. “Now you sound like an Exodus operative. Powerful men deserve their day of reckoning as much as anyone else. They too are answerable for their actions, even if they don’t think they are. It makes no difference if they’re warlords, criminals, or excuse their actions with the supposed legitimacy of government. They’re just men, as you say, and men must be held to account.”

“You’re going somewhere with this, aren’t you?”

“I am.” She hesitated for a moment, looking out over the shimmering ocean. “It took a lot of doing to arrange for your retrieval. Many in our organization did not want to risk it. We’re already considered a terrorist group by the United Nations. We almost never operate inside the United States in any capacity. The last thing Exodus wishes is to risk the attention of the US government. I had to pull many strings. It was made clear to me that under no circumstances was I, or anyone on my team, to be captured alive.”

“So why did you do it?” I’d been wanting to ask her that since I woke up. “What on earth compelled you to risk so much on my account?”

“Because Robert Lorenzo said you might know something about this Project Blue, and that that knowledge could be used as a weapon against this shadow government organization, Majestic.” She hushed me before I could once again protest that I knew nothing about Project Blue. “They are an example of everything we stand against. Agent Lorenzo was wrong about Project Blue, but he was not completely wrong. You still have knowledge that can hurt them. You know things, have seen things, even done things on their behalf. That kind of information is power.”

“Bob already used everything I knew. It caused a huge scandal that was almost completely forgotten, what, six months later? It just got passed over and the media went onto the next story. God forbid they risk making some politician they like look bad.”

“It is as you say.” Ling nodded. “The corruption runs deep. But you did hurt them, whether you realize it or not. You have the power to hurt them again, should you choose to. As does Agent Lorenzo, if we can find him.”

If only I had the answers everyone thought I did. Majestic was terrified of Project Blue. They were so compartmentalized, so secretive, that even they didn’t even seem to know exactly what it was Gordon had unleashed. Colonel Hunter’s notes had mentioned Dead Two and Dead Three being involved in a
Project Red
in China. The Second Chinese Civil War had broken out when I was in grade school, and continued off and on again for the better part of a decade before the final cease-fire. Nukes had been used and millions died.