FIFTY-ONE
I left
Pellaggio’s estate as soon as I heard the sirens in the distance. I walked for
an hour or so, clearing my head and relaxing myself, allowing the adrenaline to
subside. I’d left all my equipment there, with the exception of my Berettas. It
was all clean and untraceable, so I wasn’t worried about them being found.
I’d done a quick sweep of the grounds,
making sure there were no stragglers and to go and retrieve my bluetooth
earpiece, which was sadly broken beyond repair. I took it with me anyway – the
less evidence that I was there, the better.
I’d changed out of my black outfit,
ditching the clothes in various trash cans along the way as I walked. I’d put
regular clothes on underneath, in preparation of making a clean getaway.
I’d walked through most of Heaven’s
Valley in the two hours that followed, as I made my way into the city center,
taking every scenic route I could find. I was expecting to feel some sort of
closure now that Pellaggio was dead. I could finally leave town and put this
all behind me. But there was something nagging at me. Something that left me
feeling almost unfulfilled.
Dark Rain.
Robert Clark had said he was going to
work with Josh and co-ordinate an assault on their base. I know Clara had gone
doing some recon work to help out. I felt like I should be doing something too.
Pellaggio was my personal battle, but Dark Rain was everyone’s war.
I took out my phone and dialed Josh.
‘Adrian!’ he said as he answered. ‘Where
the hell have you been? What happened back there? Are you alright?’
I smiled.
‘Hey, man. I’m alright, don’t worry. It’s
all over.’
‘I know, I watched via the satellite
uplink. I’ve said it once, and I’ll say it again: I’m glad you’re on my side, Boss!’
‘And I’m glad you’re on mine.’
We both laughed.
Josh said, ‘How come you went dark?’
‘I banged my head as I jumped onto the
roof that second time. My earpiece fell out.’
‘Ah, fair enough. I’m just glad you’re
alright. Feels weird to admit this, but there was something almost magical
about watching that satellite uplink. Just seeing body after body drop and turn
cold. Knowing it was just you and your guns. It was poetry in motion. You’re
one scary bastard, d’you know that?’
‘I don’t know about scary. I think it’s
more accurate to say I probably have some serious issues.’
Josh laughed, but didn’t disagree.
I said, ‘Listen, I was thinking about
Dark Rain.’
‘I’m due to link up with GlobaTech in a
couple of hours. Their assault is planned for later this afternoon. Ground
forces are en route to the city as we speak. Air support is standing by.’
‘Sounds like you’re all good to go. How
are they managing to move so many armed troops in broad daylight on U.S. soil?
Surely it’s not the most discreet of things to do? Hasn’t anyone questioned
it?’
‘They’re using the old “training
exercise” line, which I suspect the media are used to not questioning. Plus,
they’ve got permission and support from the U.S. military and government, so
they’ve got free reign to pretty much do whatever they feel they need to.’
‘See, it’s things like this that made me
wanna leave all that shit behind in the first place. It’s too easy for the
government to do all kinds of stuff right in front of people’s faces, and never
even be given a second thought.’
‘Well, I see your point, Boss, but right
now I ain’t complaining. They’re the only people who have fought on our side
since you got there. You know what they say about a gift horse and its mouth.’
‘Fair point, I guess. You heard anything
from Clara yet?’
‘Not a thing. She might just be having
communication issues though – Dark Rain has taken over a disused military base
out in the desert, a few miles outside the city limits. The phone signal out
there will be patchy at best.’
‘You know what? I bet that’s what I saw
when I walked into town the other day. If only I’d known then what I know now. So,
do we know what their base is like?’
‘The place is an abandoned military
compound from what I’ve seen of it. It’s got its own airstrip, hangars, bunkers
- you name it. Not to mention access to an old underground lab. According to
the intel that Jackson fed Clara and GlobaTech, they have everything they need
there, including a few thousand soldiers and enough weaponry to seize control
of a small country. Although, there’s been no movement in the last few hours.
No sign of anyone, in fact.’
‘What have GlobaTech got then?’
‘Well, you saw the level of tech they’re
working with from the care package they gave you. They don’t just provide
private security - they manufacture weapons for the military. Their R&D
budget is frightening. They’ve got the manpower - all ex-military, highly
trained in combat and used to conditions like desert warfare. They’ve ran
contracts in Afghanistan for the past five or so years. The standard of
operative is very high. You’re not going to want these guys coming after you.’
‘Sounds like they have a new addition to
their fan club as well,’ I said with a laugh.
‘Hey, I’m just saying,’ replied Josh,
somewhat defensively. ‘These guys are the market leaders in every area. They’re
what everyone else tries to be, and you can see why.’
‘Might be an idea to stay friends with
them then, eh? You never know when we might need to call in a favor.’
‘Absolutely! So, what do you intend
doing now?’
‘I need to swing by the bus terminal and
pick my bag from the locker. Figured I might get some breakfast then book the
next bus out of here. I might head north to Minnesota, lay low for a few days.
Give you chance to finish up here then find me a job.’
‘Sounds good. I’ll give you a shout when
the operation’s underway.’
‘Thanks. And if you hear of Clara in the
meantime, tell her to give me a call, okay?’
‘I will,’ he said.
I could tell he was smiling, and I knew
why.
‘It’s not like that,’ I said.
‘Whatever,’ he replied.
I hung up and walked on toward the center
of town. The sun was rising, casting a pale light that bounced off the tops of
the tallest buildings. It was going to be another beautiful, hot day in the
middle of the Nevada desert.
It felt like the right time to leave.
FIFTY-TWO
I’d got my bag
back from the bus terminal locker where I’d left it, then gone to find
somewhere to eat. I couldn’t remember the last time I had a proper meal. It was
probably that cheeseburger I had before Manhattan took me to the uranium mine.
Jesus! That was a day and a half ago. After everything that’s happened in the
last few days, I was glad to finally be able to relax and get back to normal.
First things first – a good meal.
I found a little breakfast bar, that
offered a full breakfast and a jug of coffee for eight dollars. It wasn’t
perfect, but it was reasonably priced and, frankly, I could eat a dead horse between
two rusty food trucks right now.
I sat inside at a corner booth, looking
out at the rest of the place. It was pretty busy, clearly going through the
morning rush before everyone went to work. There were three waitresses working
the floor, with another two manning the checkouts. Guys were back and forth
through the doors leading to the kitchen, picking up the latest orders and
leaving a plate of food behind for the previous ones.
Most seats and tables were occupied. The
booths were the standard, red leather two-seaters, one either side of a table
that perpetually stank of disinfectant. There were bar stools lined up at counters
either side of the entrance that gave a view of the street outside.
I’d ordered the full breakfast, and
after five minutes or so, one of the waitresses brought out my first course – a
stack of six pancakes with a small jar of maple syrup. I remember Josh once
telling about what British people refer to as a full breakfast. Along with the
usual bacon and eggs, they have something called black pudding. He did tell me
what it was, but I’ve forgotten. I certainly don’t recall it sounding too
appetizing. Give me a waffle, some bacon and sausage, and my eggs over easy any
day of the week. And a pot of steaming hot black coffee.
I decided, there and then, when all this
was said and done, that I’d make an effort to give me and Josh a break. Take
him on a trip across the pond and see
his
homeland for a change. When we
first met, which seemed a lifetime ago, I was briefly stationed over in the
U.K. for a training exercise. He never used to shut up about all the ways he
thought they did things better over there than we did.
I smiled in fond recollection at one
night in particular, when me, Josh and a couple of the boys from our unit went
for a few drinks at a bar in London. It took maybe twenty minutes for us to get
into a bar fight! For all that Josh would happily sit behind a desk playing
with his computers nowadays, back then you couldn’t ask for a better man to
back you up in a fight. But after the first couple of years running black ops,
it became apparent we functioned better as a unit under his guidance, so he was
taken out of the field and put in charge of our operations center. We had a
good run with him working the intel.
I refocused on my breakfast and tucked
into the pancakes – which were excellent – and swilled them down with coffee. I
checked my watch. Josh will be linked up with GlobaTech by now. I still felt
like I should be doing something. But at the same time, like Robert Clark said –
I can’t take on an army by myself. Best to leave this to them. I sat, thinking
about how Ketranovich and his psycho soldier, Natalia Salikov, were likely
going to die today.
Serves them right, if you ask me.
I glanced up at the TV on the wall. It
was showing the news. A woman in a red suit jacket and white blouse was sat
behind the desk, with a picture of a large house behind her. The headline at
the bottom of the screen said "MANSION MASSACRE". I raised an
eyebrow.
As a waitress walked past, I asked her
to turn it up, which she kindly did. The woman on the TV was in the middle of
her report.
‘...in the early hours of this morning.
It’s been confirmed that the deceased include local businessman and suspected
crime boss, Roberto Pellaggio. His body, along with several others, were found
in the mansion. Police have no suspects at this time, but sources close to the
investigation have said that, based on early forensic evidence and details
found at the scene of the crime, it’s thought the mass slaying was a mafia hit,
carried out by a team of professional killers. Detectives are waiting to
question the one survivor of this horrific event, twenty-seven year old Daniel
Pellaggio – Roberto Pellaggio’s youngest son. He was found with bullet wounds
in his leg and chest and is currently in critical condition. More on this story
as it develops. In other news, a local man has found...’
Hmmm, someone survived, eh? That was
unexpected. He’s a lucky bastard, I’ll give him that. I considered killing him,
just to tie up loose ends, but quickly decided it wasn’t worth it. Jimmy
Manhattan’s in police custody for the foreseeable future, and Pellaggio’s
business will have collapsed, given I killed the majority of the people
involved in its day to day running a few hours ago. His son wouldn’t have seen
my face – because of the smoke grenades, he wouldn’t have seen anything at all
– so he can’t give the police any kind of description. Plus, no-one’s going to
believe just one man did all that, the news reporter had said so herself.
It was all over.
The waitress came over and took my plate
away, replacing it a couple of minutes later with a plate of bacon and eggs.
She topped up my coffee and left me to it. I figured I’d finish up here and
head to the bus terminal, get a ticket for the next Greyhound out of town and
head north.
As I took my first bite of bacon, my
phone rang. I looked at the caller ID and saw it was Josh. I debated whether to
let it ring through to voicemail or not, so I could finish my breakfast, but
decided against it. He never calls me unless he needs to.
‘Hey,’ I said, swallowing a mouthful of
food. ‘I’m just eating my breakfast. What’s up?’
Josh was uncharacteristically flustered.
‘Adrian, we have a serious problem.’
FIFTY-THREE
I was so close
to getting out of town.
‘What’s happened?’ I asked with a sigh.
‘Okay, let me explain,’ said Josh,
trying to compose himself.
‘Take your time.’
He was properly worked up about
something, which was un-nerving. He’s normally pretty calm, given how logical
he is in his approach to anything. He’s borderline unflappable, so for him to
be so worked up he can’t even think straight enough to get his words out, it
must be pretty bad.
But then, after the few days we’ve had,
how much worse can it get?
‘Right, so you know GlobaTech are
planning a strike today, yeah?’
‘That’s what you said.’
‘Well I’m working with their analysts right
now. We’ve established an uplink and have access to the satellite imagery from
the area for the first time. We’ve detected a massive heat signature coming
from within the compound, somewhere underground. It wasn’t there the last time
they looked, which was a couple of days ago.’
‘Do they know what it is?’
‘They’ve got a pretty good idea, yeah.’
‘So... what is it?’
‘Adrian, by the looks of it, judging by
the size, the gut feeling here is that it’s an armory of missiles.’
I sat up straight and pushed my plate
away. I rested my left elbow on the table, then my head in my left hand.
‘What kind of missiles, Josh?’
He said nothing.
‘Nuclear?’
I heard Josh take a deep breath.
‘Jesus fucking Christ!’ I said, trying
to shout and whisper at the same time, given I was in a crowded restaurant. ‘Are
you saying Ketranovich has a fucking nuclear warhead?’
‘It’s the worst case scenario, granted,
but we’re considering it a viable option.’
I had to ask how it could get worse,
didn’t I.
‘How?’
‘We don’t know. Clark’s on the line with
the Secretary of Defense now, working on a strategy.’
‘I’m definitely on the first bus out of
here. Josh, leave this to the military and get out, now. You hear me?’
Another pause.
‘Adrian, there’s something else.’
‘Of course there is. Please, enlighten
me – tell me how can this unforgettable clusterfuck of a situation could get
any worse?’
‘I’m sending you a photo. This image was
taken via satellite thirty minutes ago.’
‘Hang on.’
I looked at the phone and opened the
image file he’d just sent me. It was black and white and was a little grainy -
clearly edited to zoom in a little, then cropped down. But it was a good
quality photo nonetheless, and the scene it depicted was unmistakable.
It was Clara. Her hands were behind her
back and she was being escorted somewhere, with an armed man either side of
her.
Dark Rain had got her and was holding
her captive in their compound.
I put the phone back to my ear, but said
nothing. I didn’t know what to say. My mind was blank, but racing, like it was
trying to focus on a million different things, but couldn’t find them.
‘Adrian, I’m sorry, man.’
‘We have to get her back.’
‘I’ve already told Clark about her. He
said he’s going to give the order to the ground forces to retrieve her if they
can. But he warned me that the priority is neutralizing Ketranovich and seizing
whatever weapons systems they have.’
I banged my fist hard on the table,
causing a few customers to turn and stare at me.
‘That’s not good enough, Josh! We have
to get her out of there!’
‘Adrian, I know! I don’t like this any
more than you do. Wait, I’ve got a call coming through from GlobaTech, give me
a minute, okay?’
He put me hold. I sat with the phone to
my ear, staring into space. My appetite had disappeared and the anger was
returning. I took some deep breaths and closed my eyes.
I can’t believe Clara’s been captured.
Whatever happens next, she’s as good as dead. There’s no way someone like
Ketranovich will allow her to live when he’s branded her a traitor to his
cause. He’ll be looking to make an example out of her. The way he sees it, he’s
close to victory. He’ll parade her body in front of his troops to send a
message.
Josh’s voice reappeared, disturbing my
train of thought.
‘Adrian, you still there?’
‘Yeah, I’m here.’
‘We got another problem.’
‘The novelty of you saying that is
rapidly wearing off, do you know that? What is it this time?’
‘Clark just rang me, confirming the new
plan following his discussion with the Secretary of Defense. Schultz has been
in a meeting with the President and the Joint Chiefs in the last hour assessing
the situation. They’ve now come to a decision.’
How the hell did I manage to stumble
into something that has wound up being on the President’s crisis agenda? I’m
never taking a job in Nevada again…
‘Okay, so, what’s the master plan?’
‘The U.S. government are going to get
involved, but take a back seat and only offer military support to GlobaTech. Given
that GlobaTech already has a presence in the area and involvement in the
situation, they’re going to let them take point on the ground. However, to
support them, they’ve ordered the U.S. Air Force to launch a pre-emptive airstrike
within the hour. A small team of three F-22s are going to take off from
Holloman Air Force Base in New Mexico and carpet bomb the holy hell out of the entire
compound. The intention being that they bury whatever arsenal of missiles they
have there and kill everyone before any kind of launch can be attempted.’
‘Christ! That’s a fairly drastic and
decisive plan of attack. And then, presumably, GlobaTech move in on the ground,
storm through the front door and clean up whatever’s left?’
‘Basically, yeah.’
I thought for a moment.
‘What’s their stance on any civilian
casualties?’ I asked.
Josh sighed loudly, and when he answered,
there was a noticeable grimace in his voice.
‘Acceptable.’