No good. They were penned in by traffic, and there were men getting out of a car thirty meters back. He wasn’t going to find an opening.
“Proceed on foot, we need a bughole,” he said.
Elke was out the door in a second, wearing her backpack and with the box looking a bit lighter. Good woman. A moment later a sharp bang accompanied a brilliant flash and a directional cloud of smoke. She pulled alongside him.
“Did you secure the car?”
“I did not boobytrap it but it is locked. The burst was just distraction.”
“Hostiles?”
“Delayed, but there are some ahead.”
“I see them,” he said. “Move into a building.”
“This one.”
It was a closed office that hopefully had a rear exit, or a roof, or some way to barricade themselves while backup arrived. Aramis reached the door at a sprint and kicked it. The latches shattered and they were in.
“That wouldn’t work in a more modern world,” he said, as they dodged between dividing walls.
“Two distractions behind us, set for vibration.”
“Not lethal?”
“Allies may come.”
“Roger. No upstairs access I can see. Out the back.”
There was clattering behind them, then a bang, and another.
Elke stepped aside and let him take the lead. He flipped the latch, kicked the door open and slipped through, raising his pistol.
His brain exploded inside his skull and he went down.
Bart drove, though usually he was in a limo, not a Grumbly. The rotary-diesel was turning fast enough to have a smooth hum, not a grumbling lope. They were in a hurry.
As he understood it, they were also in violation of contract.
Their mission was Highland’s safety. Cady’s mission was compound security. Recovery of missing personnel was properly the military’s tasking. However, that would take time, and they knew Aramis’s and Elke’s location now.
Elke’s voice came through the channel. “Musketeer is down, probably captured.”
Bart felt chills. That was bad. Peripherally, he saw the others swapping glances.
Alex asked, “Understood. Are you covered?”
“I have created a safe zone.”
That sounded bad, too.
“We’re arriving in six minutes.”
“I can hold- BANG!” her voice cut off with an explosion, but the signal was still live. “Do hurry, though.”
Another voice came through, “Alex, this is Das.”
Alex said, “Alex here, go.”
“We have an extraction team en route. Fifteen minutes will get them there.”
“That’s ten minutes behind us.”
“Understood. I must advise you that you are not on military contract and do not have engagement privileges.”
“Meaning we will observe as long as feasible, or the lawyers will have lots of work to do.”
Das sounded tense but sympathetic. “I understand your concern but there will be trouble if you breech status of forces.”
Bart cursed. Yes, rules existed for a reason, but this was not a military engagement, it was a criminal incident. It was probably even harder to find a political agreement regarding that.
Before Alex could reply, Elke said, “Hostiles are gone.”
“Retreated?”
“Yes. They have Musketeer, as far as I can tell.”
“Shit.”
Bart’s chills turned to burns. This was unprecedented.
“Arriving in two minutes,” he said, as calmly as he could.
Alex said, “Babs, can you meet at your reported location?”
“I am two hundred meters from there and prefer to meet at this location. Advise when you need directions.”
Bart nodded, and said, “Tell me in twenty seconds, which turn to take.”
Elke coolly guided him in to a stop next to an alley. She darted out with a box and ruck and was aboard at once.
She heaved for breath and there was a chemical stink of explosive over the perspiration. Her hair was greased with sweat, she was scuffed and dusty, but alive and intact.
“Reporting,” she said. “We were corralled by four vehicles at the same time you reported notice of us. Either the military has a leak or the hostiles have similar sensors. We entered the building ahead, where the traffic jam and dust is. I left a distraction device outside, two inside. There was no good barricade or roof, and pursuers triggered the devices. We attempted to leave out the back. Aramis was hit with a combination of two heavy stunners and an impact projectile. I shot and hit two hostiles, outcome unknown, then shot and blasted through the wall into the crawl alley to the south. I made a short chimney ascent, entered a first floor window, exited the rear behind the hostiles. I covered in a trash abutment and held them with fire. I made my report, then they departed, presumably with Aramis.”
That was so precise it was frightening, Bart thought, but not as much as Aramis’s abduction.
“Can we trace him with that stuff?” Alex asked.
“He will have residue, yes. His clothes especially will be impregnated.”
“They’ll probably ditch those if they smell them. Channel, Das, sir, what’s the recovery unit ETA?”
“Three minutes.”
“This is our location,” he said, and pinged it through. “We need to search the contact site.”
“They see you and are arriving.”
Aramis awoke nauseated, in throbbing pain, stripped to underwear, wrapped in cargo tape restraints at wrist and ankle, sitting on a cold floor. He could vaguely identify others. Two people were in front of him, well-built, probably military. One lurked behind. Two? others were off to the left.
Ohshitohshitohshit. It kept tumbling through his brain.
No way out. Not a chance. The restraints wouldn’t yield, and he was quite sure the one at the back would happily shoot anyone he tried to grab as a shield. Assuming he could see anything. He wasn’t sure how he knew the man behind had a gun, but he knew.
His wrists ached, his head had that burning pain that felt as if it were bleeding from trauma, but often meant only a concussion.
A voice from the left said, “He’s awake, get to it.”
Another voice, in front, said, “I need her movements.”
He understood that was addressed to him, and replied, “They’re chosen at random, even when there is a schedule, and I am not told until we are en route.”
A tremendous slap rocked his cheek and jaw, like fiery gravel. He’d been hit with some kind of heavy glove.
“Ridiculous. You have to know.”
He sweated and teared up through the bursting pain, which was triggering his pulped skull again. “The Agent in Charge knows, or his deputy. The rest of us do as we’re told.”
He stood there. He knew what was coming, and it terrified him. Combat was one thing. To be bound helplessly and…
The blow felt as if a car hit him in the cheek. He grunted, convulsed and lay out on the floor, trying to get into a fetal position to protect himself. His ears rang, eyes blurred, he thought his cheek probably broken. The pain was a lance, and then a suffusing pulse of agony, fading slowly to a burning sting.
