Field investigation pending agent availability.
Jason sat back and looked at the computer screen. A copy of his birth certificate held the name of his mother. Cressa Siku. It was the only information he had — the orphanage had given it to him when he turned eighteen — but now that name meant something more. He had a brother. At least by blood. But what did it really mean?
He leaned back in his chair, stretching his back and rubbing a hand over the aching muscles of his neck. The real work of this mission hadn't even begun, and he was already tired. The discovery of a brother he'd never known he had — who happened to be a suspect in the weapons-smuggling operation that Room 59 had just authorized him to take down — was an added complication he didn't need. Brother or not, he had a job to do. The man was a total stranger, so why should he feel anything for him?
He picked up the PDA and looked through the oceanic-activity logs again, comparing them to the map Tina had shown him that morning. There was one area showing some boating activity that she had said was usually pretty dormant. Jason decided to go check it out. At least that way when he reported in to Denny what a dismal failure the mission had been so far, he could show that he'd made a reasonable effort. Plus, he admitted to himself, he was dying to try out the Scorpion.
Jason left the cabin and rode his quad down to the water's edge, then signaled the submersible, which climbed onto shore. The one nice thing so far about being a Room 59 agent was the plethora of cool toys that he had to play with. The Scorpion came to a stop and Jason keyed the entry code on the exterior and climbed on board. He had worked with the controls in a virtual-reality simulation during his training period, but that hadn't really prepared him for the experience of being inside the actual pod. The controls glowed indigo and silver, giving the cockpit an almost supernatural feel.
He closed and locked the hatch, then turned on the air-exchange system, giving it time to engage before he headed for the water. A light flashed on the control panel indicating that the system was ready, and he guided the pod to the water. The way it moved on land reminded him of riding a camel, which he'd done on several occasions in the Middle East. They were temperamental, nasty animals. But once he guided the pod into the water, it suddenly felt as if he'd entered a whole other world. The jerky motion he'd experienced on land completely vanished. The vehicle had been designed to react to both the hand controls and his body movements, which made it much more agile and responsive.
'All right,' he said to himself. 'Let's see what this baby can do.'
Deep enough now to have the guidance lights on along with the radar, Jason sped along the bottom of the ocean floor, disturbing sea creatures as he went. Curving around rocks and using the legs to push off any shoals that were in his way, he was having the time of his life. It was like driving a sports car underwater.
He made the last curve to head into the cove that was supposed to be dormant. His radar showed three boats in the water. He shut down the external lights and switched the view screen to dark mode: a combination of infrared spectrum and night vision that allowed him to steer clear of obstacles while being able to see sources of heat without being seen himself. He approached the shoreline and, using the Scorpion's radar tools, began to assess what was going on.
He quickly discovered there were a number of people on land, which meant that was where he needed to be, as well. Jason quickly moved the Scorpion to an isolated spot and maneuvered it out of the water. He switched from sonar to straight audio pickups, which, along with the night vision, would give him plenty of information.
There were twelve men surrounding several crates. The audio feed could pick out each individual voice and he could tell they were speaking Russian. The infrared scan showed weapons signatures pretty much identical to the ones he and Tina had found in the abandoned village. Although he couldn't see their faces, Jason recognized two of the voices right away — Jesse and Chris.
The conversation moved quickly as they satisfied themselves that the weapons were suitable and arranged to meet the smuggler in the village the next day to deliver his payment. As the meeting wound down and the dealer and his men returned to their boats, Chris's and Jesse's voices died out.
As tempting as it was to take the Scorpion in close and blow up the weapons that were piled on the beach and — presumably — in the nearby boats, Jason needed to know if these guys were just run-of-the-mill smugglers or if their plans included something far more sophisticated and dangerous than rifles. If he took them out now, he'd never find out the whole truth.
A better plan, despite the urge to unleash destruction on the smugglers, was to go back into town and then tomorrow stop by the garage and have a chat his long-lost brother.
At that point, actions would speak much more loudly than any words they could exchange.
'You know,' Jason said as Jesse stepped through the door into the shop, 'I've thought about this moment many times in my life.'
Startled, Jesse jerked to a stop, dropping his keys onto the floor and spilling his coffee. 'Ah, shit!' he said.
Jason stood up from the chair he was lounging in and leaned forward on the counter. His gaze took in the coffee cup on the floor and he shook his head in mock sadness. 'Look at that mess you've made. You should get someone to help you clean that up.' He added a
Jesse kicked the cup out of the path of the door and snatched up his keys, slamming the door shut behind him.
'I don't know what the hell you're talking about,' he said. 'Maybe I should just call the cops and have you arrested for breaking and entering.'
Jason chuckled softly. 'Oh, I don't think that you're going to do that,' he said. 'I think that maybe the two of us should have a talk.'
'Look, I don't know you,' Jesse said, 'or anything about you, but I didn't exactly have a Norman Rockwell upbringing. I don't have any desire to go digging up the past. Maybe we're related, maybe not, but it doesn't matter to me either way. I don't have a family.' There was a cold finality to his voice.
'You're not even a little curious?' Jason asked, then continued without waiting for his answer. 'Tell you what. Just indulge me a little and tell me a bit about yourself.'
'I told you, man, I don't want to get into all of this. I don't have a family and I'm fine with that.'
'Hmm…now that's interesting,' Jason said. 'We could probably pass for twins — a fact that would make most men stop and wonder for a minute. That you appear to be indifferent to that tells me that you either knew about me or…' His voice trailed off, then he laughed. 'There is no 'either,' is there? You knew about me, didn't you?'
Jesse dropped his keys on the counter and said, 'Yeah, fine. I knew I had a brother out there somewhere. Big deal. And maybe it's you and maybe it's not. Lots of people look alike. What I know is this. My mother was some slut who dropped me off the first chance she could find — an orphanage in Anchorage, if it matters to you — and she split. I heard that she's dead. I did some digging when I was a teenager, asked around when I first got up here, so I knew a brother existed. But let me be clear — I don't care.'
'Sorry,' Jason said. 'But I'm not buying it.' He stepped out from behind the counter and headed for the door. He decided to try a different approach. 'Look, I don't know for sure who you are to me,' he lied, 'but I do intend to find out. Maybe, deep down, you'd like to know, too.'
Jason pulled on the door.
'Jason.' Jesse's voice was deep and quiet, barely above a whisper.
'Yeah?'
For a long minute, silence held them both, then he said, 'My life is complicated. I don't know that you want to get too close. It might be better for both our sakes if you just left it alone.'
Jason watched him carefully, wondering if his words represented a threat, a warning or genuine concern. Maybe a little of all three.
After another moment, he nodded, then said, 'Everyone's life is complicated, but maybe helping with that is what families are for.'
9
