Swords of Exodus [Dead Six 02] (26 page)

As I faded out, I realized Anders was standing next to me. “Shit works fast, don’t it?”

Black.

Chapter 14: Hunting Season

VALENTINE

Crossroads City

March 15th

I was roused out of bed early in the morning, long before the Sun came up. Exodus had established a number of safe houses in Crossroads City, spreading themselves out to try to reduce their apparent signature and keep a low profile. Ling and I had been dropped off at one of them with all of our clothing and equipment. Not everyone was in place yet, so Ling was very busy.

The building was one of the structures erected by the Soviets in 1950. Bland and featureless, it was on the far north end of town, crumbling from decades of disuse and tagged with graffiti in four different languages. It had electricity, sort of, but no functioning toilets or showers. Field-expedient means of hygiene were necessary and unpleasant.

We were posing as a group of mercenaries for hire. There were several such groups in town, and while we were sure to draw the ire of our supposed competitors, we were less likely to gain the notice of Sala Jihan. Enterprises of all sorts and varying levels of legitimacy came and went through The Crossroads all the time. With Sala Jihan’s own forces keeping the peace, we weren’t especially concerned with being attacked outright.

After a brief, frigid scrub in an improvised shower, I dressed myself in some civilian attire I’d been given and found Ling in the main room. Two men, other Exodus personnel I guessed, were with her.

“Good morning, Michael,” she said, as I walked in. “Allow me to introduce my comrades.” Ling indicated a fit-looking Middle Eastern man with a thin mustache. “This is Ibrahim Barzani, one of our strike team leaders.”

Ibrahim offered me a firm handshake. “Mr. Valentine, it is most excellent to meet you. Your reputation precedes you.”

“Nice to meet you.”

“This is Hideo Katsumoto,” she said. An imposing Japanese man with a shaved head bowed politely, a move which I awkwardly attempted to return. He then shook my hand, and though his hands were thinner than mine, he had a grip like a vice.

“Mr. Valentine,” he said curtly.

“Michael, we will be working with Katsumoto during the operation.”

“I am happy to have Ling at my side during this operation,” Katsumoto said. “She will be my second-in-command.”

I wondered how Ling really felt about effectively being demoted from team leader, but Ling’s face was a mask, as always. “You will be with us, Michael, if you’re feeling up to it.”

“Doing what, exactly?”

“I must be blunt
,
” Katsumoto said. “I do not like the practice of colluding with outsiders. As I’m sure you can understand, they are often security risks and prove to be less than reliable. Ling has vouched for you, however, and we are short on personnel. If you wish, you may come along on the mission and assist however you can.”

“You’re not an initiated member of our order, so you will not be in the chain of command,” Ling clarified. “But an extra hand with as much combat experience as you have would be a great asset to the operation.”

It sounded like Ling was talking me up, trying to convince the others that I was worth the trouble they went through to get me. I figured they were just sticking me with her because they didn’t know what to do with me. Fair enough. They could have just left me to rot in North Gap, so I didn’t feel I had any grounds to complain. I wasn’t sure if I was in any shape to fight, but I tried to conceal my misgivings. These people had done a lot for me, risking their lives in the process. I felt obligated to put on a brave face. “I’ll do what I can,” I said with fake confidence. “But I don’t know what we’re doing here. I’ve only been given the briefest of overviews on this entire operation.”

Ibrahim and Katsumoto looked at each other, then at Ling. “For operational security reasons, you won’t be given a complete overview, I’m afraid,” Ibrahim said. “Please, Mr. Valentine, we mean no disrespect. We have procedures . . .”

I waved my hand. “It’s fine.” I’d spent too long as a mercenary to expect otherwise. “I don’t need to know what I don’t need to know.”

“No, you do not,” Katsumoto replied. “Our swords won’t be directly involved in the primary assault on Sala Jihan’s compound. That will be Ibrahim’s responsibility. Our mission is to capture the hydroelectric plant upriver.”

“I see.” I was honestly intrigued. “Are we going to disable it, cut off their power?”

“In part,” Ibrahim answered. “We have acquired detailed plans of the structure. Our engineers have determined the best possible points of attack. We have more than sufficient explosives to structurally compromise the dam forever.”

I thought about the huge reservoir upriver from the dam. “You’re going to blow the dam and flood the town?”

Ibrahim nodded. “It is for the best.”

I looked at the three Exodus warriors in front of me, and didn’t know what to say. Flooding the valley would drown thousands of people. The deluge wouldn’t discriminate between the deserving and the innocent. The surprise on my face must have been evident.

“It isn’t like that at all, Michael,” Ling said.

“The dam will not fail immediately. If our engineers are correct, eventually the dam will collapse and flood The Crossroads. They will have time to evacuate. We expect the people who live here will disperse once the power fails. If any are foolish enough to remain in this wicked place, then they do so at their own risk. Regardless of whether or not the mission to kill Sala Jihan succeeds, we shall cleanse this valley and wipe The Crossroads off the face of the earth.”

“You must understand.” Katsumoto said. “This place was used for horrible things when a lesser man ruled it. Now someone truly evil is in charge and it has only grown worse. Should Ibrahim’s attack fail, this is our only hope of ending the human trafficking in this part of the world. Even if Ibrahim succeeds, there is no promise that the cycle will not continue, with Jihan replaced by another, just as he replaced Eduard Montalban before him. It is necessary.”

If the people who lived here didn’t clue in and evacuate, they would die. Exodus was utterly committed to their mission, to the fundamental belief that they were doing the right thing. I wondered what it was like to have that kind of certainty in life. On the other hand, everything I’d learned about The Crossroads was unsettling. Of all the places in the world that could stand to be wiped off the map, it was pretty close the top of the list.

These people respected me. Despite my misgivings, I was going to stay professional. “Understood,” I said simply.

“We will get into the specifics of the operation later,” Katsumoto said. “For now, just know that we have discussed this matter at length. If there were not so many tens of thousands of innocent lives in danger, we would not be taking such drastic action.”

Ibrahim addressed Ling. “There is another matter we need to bring to your attention. I have met this Lorenzo you spoke of. He is much as you described, driven, yet shortsighted.”

“He is a horrible man,” Ling said. “But he grows on you.”

“So does a fungus.” Ibrahim grinned. “Yesterday, Lorenzo went into the fortress and met with Sala Jihan.”

Ling’s eyes widened. “Face to face?”

“Yes. One of his people, the skinny young man with the long hair and bad complexion, brought me the intelligence they had gathered.”

“Reaper?” I asked.

Ibrahim nodded. “They are staying at the Glorious Cloud Hotel. Lorenzo departed that location after he told young Mr. Reaper to see us. He went to the arena, but was involved in an altercation there and disappeared.”

I could see the concern on Ling’s face. If the damned fool had gotten himself captured it could compromise everything. I was personally,
bitterly
aware of the consequences of getting yourself caught.

“We believe he was taken,” Ibrahim said. “Our operative had to leave the scene, as an altercation would have attracted the attention of the Brotherhood, but he was able to take this picture.” Ibrahim retrieved a smartphone from his pocket, tapped the screen a few times to bring up the picture, and handed the phone to Ling.

The picture was slightly blurry; the photographer was probably moving when he took it. Lorenzo was being choked out by a large, muscular man with short-cropped, blonde hair. The beard was new, but I recognized him.

My blood ran cold. “
Anders
.”

I spent the next half hour filling my Exodus compatriots in on everything I knew about Anders. He had been Gordon Willis’ right-hand man for Project Heartbreaker. I hadn’t seen Anders since the operation in Yemen, where we recovered a stolen nuclear warhead that was en route to General Al Sabah. I had no idea what happened to him after I killed Gordon.

“He was with Majestic,” Ling said. “Is he still?”

“I don’t know. I sure hope not. He was in on Gordon Willis’ dealings with Eduard Montalban, I know that much. I also know that those dealings were off the reservation, done on the side. After everything was found out, he may have had to get out of the country. Gordon’s superiors were mad at him, but I don’t know what went on with Anders. Hell, they should have been interrogating his ass instead of me at North Gap. Lord knows the son of a bitch has it coming. I guarantee he knows more about Project Blue than I do.”

“What is Project Blue?” Katsumoto asked.

“That is the question isn’t it?”

The Exodus man humorlessly raised an eyebrow.

“It’s a long story and not relevant right now. But you need to know that cold hearted bastard is one of the most dangerous men I’ve ever met.”

Ling looked thoughtful for a long moment. “Why did he take Mr. Lorenzo? It can’t be a coincidence.”

LORENZO

Gideon Lorenzo sat on the fallen log, leaned his Model 70 Winchester against the bark, and used a handkerchief to wipe the sweat from his forehead. Dad’s bad knee was really bothering him today, and it had been a heck of a hike up the mountain. Bob and I stopped to wait for him in the peach-colored light that came just before dawn in the Texas foothills. Bob took the opportunity to take a long draw from his canteen. Both of us were young, and in excellent shape. It was only a few days after my fifteenth birthday.

“Bob, do me a favor.”

“Yeah, Dad?” my older brother said as he twisted the cap back on his old Boy Scout canteen. He was a senior in high school now, and was looking more and more like Dad every day, a veritable giant of a man. Unfortunately, Bob had also inherited the bald genes, and his hair was already thinning.

“Run along to the deer camp, and tell your uncle that we’ll be along in a minute. Ammon gets all excited if anybody’s late, and he’ll probably send out a search party. Hector can stay with me.”

“Sure thing,” Bob slung his .30-06 over his shoulder and gave me a thumbs up, “Take care of the old man for me, bro.”

Dad snorted. “Old man . . . And Bob, remember, if you see something,” Dad glanced at his watch. “It isn’t legal for another . . . fifteen minutes.” As a municipal judge, it really shouldn’t have been a surprise that the senior Lorenzo was such a stickler for the rules. There wasn’t a hypocritical bone in his body, and even if the rule was dumb, he obeyed it, because he had to sit in judgment of others using the same rules.

“Okay, not like I ever see anything anyway. Hector’s the killer. See you guys in a minute.” He turned and jogged up the hill.

Dad waited for him to leave, then he patted the log next to him. “Take a seat, Hector. Enjoy the sunrise with me.”

I could tell he wanted to talk to me about something. I sat, and waited, my old Savage lever action in my lap. The forest was quiet. I was uncomfortable in the woods. It was strange, the further I got from pavement, the more twitchy it made me. I liked having noise and people. In the woods, it’s just you and what you really are. You can’t pretend to be something else when it’s so quiet and empty. The woods are about truth.

But the Lorenzo family loved the annual deer hunt. The younger kids really enjoyed the camping. I didn’t mind hunting. Apparently I was really good at killing animals, and they sure did taste great.

“So, how’s the leg, Dad? I can take your pack.”

He smiled. “Naw, I’m fine.” Which was a lie. His leg hadn’t been fine since some communist had tried to blow it off. He lived in constant pain, but you would never know it since he never let it change his attitude. “I just wanted to talk to you for a minute.”

“That time of year again? I already know. He’s not getting out.” The parole board had no interest in talking to me. They knew my opinion. If I had one regret in my life, it was that I had not had better aim when I’d stabbed him with that fork, and gotten my real father in the jugular instead of the eye socket.

“No, not that,” Dad coughed. “Honestly, we both know he’s not going anywhere. This is Texas, thank God. Men serve their time here. No, it is something else.”

I waited.

“I’m worried about your future, Hector.”

“My grades are better. I’m trying harder in class,” I lied. I hated school. Bob was the one with straight A’s, and a football scholarship. Dad was probably worried I was going to end up digging ditches. Either that or he was going to warn me about the dangers of rock and roll music again.

“No, nothing like that. In fact, Mr. Thompson told me the other day that you excel at . . .” he paused, as it was kind of distasteful, “drama. And Coach McClelland says you have a real gift for gymnastics, that you could even take state if you put your mind to it . . . and there’s nothing wrong with either of those things,” he quickly added. The Lorenzos were manly men, and neither of those things were exactly “manly” endeavors in his view.

“Dad, I promise. I like girls.”

He rolled his eyes. “That’s not what I meant. It’s just that . . . Eh, I don’t know how to explain it. I’m concerned about your outlook. You know the kinds of people I’ve deal with.”

“Politicians? Lawyers?”

“No, I was thinking of the people I send to jail, dishonest, thieving, amoral . . . so actually, I suppose most of the politicians and lawyers I deal with would fall into the same category . . . ” he chuckled as he thought about it, but then his face darkened, and turned grim. “It’s just that sometimes I feel like I get a glimpse of what you’re going to be like as you get older. You’ve got a lot of anger in you still.”