Dead Six

Epilogue:

Requiem

VALENTINE

Arlington, Virginia

July 4

2245

Sweat beaded on my face as I cleared the top of a tall fence and quietly landed in the grass. I crouched down for a moment, shrouded in darkness, and studied my surroundings. Directly in front of me was a full-sized swimming pool. Beyond that was a palatial home, situated in the more expensive half of a gated community of “rich-bitch” estates. The air smelled like gunpowder from the fireworks being set off in the streets.

I was dressed in dark clothes and had black grease paint smeared onto my face. My S&W .44 Magnum revolver was concealed under my shirt. I double-checked my coordinates on the GPS one last time; I had to make sure I had the right house. Satisfied, I stood up and moved silently across the darkened backyard toward the house. Gordon Willis didn’t know it, but he had company tonight.

The back patio door was glass. I risked a peek inside and saw no movement. The house was mostly darkened but had enough lights left on that navigation wouldn’t be difficult. I’d have to be quick. There was probably some kind of an alarm system; as soon as I busted through the door, I’d have only moments to do what I’d come to do.

Taking one last look around, I reached for the door and tried the handle. It was unlocked. Grinning to myself, I silently entered Gordon’s house, shocked that a man like him would be so lackadaisical in his home security. I drew my revolver as the door closed behind me. The tritium front sight glowed green in the dim light.

The house was lavishly furnished with tacky postmodern decor. Half the stuff in the large downstairs recroom looked like it came from Ikea. An expensive-looking pool table sat in the middle of the room. I searched the downstairs area in silence. The lower level was deserted, but I could hear sounds of movement coming from somewhere in the house. My grip on my weapon tightened slightly as I made my way up the stairs to the second floor.

I walked down the second-floor hall. The first door on my left led to a bedroom. The bed was covered with pillows and stuffed animals, and posters of several teen pop idols decorated the walls. A pit formed in my stomach, and I felt the Calm begin to waiver. It had never occurred to me that Gordon might’ve had a daughter. Shit. I noticed that the drawers on the girl’s dresser had been pulled open and emptied. Had Gordon and his family fled? If so, who was in the house?

I steeled myself and quietly returned to the hallway, padding along on the carpet. At the end of the hall was a door to what looked like a master bedroom. The door was open, but I couldn’t see any movement inside. There was a room kitty-corner to it, also with the door open. I froze when I heard someone cough loudly from that room.

My eyes narrowed as I brought my weapon up in both hands. I took one last deep breath and swiftly entered the room. I was surprised by what I saw.

Gordon Willis sat at a desk, facing the doorway, with his face buried in his hands. A large bottle of vodka sat open on his desk, and I could smell booze in the air. Next to the bottle was a Glock pistol. The room was some kind of study.

Gordon looked up when I entered the room, eyes wide. He swore aloud and reached for the pistol. My revolver roared in the confines of the study. The slug shattered the vodka bottle, blasted through Gordon’s hand, and smacked into his desk. Gordon screamed in pain, clutching his pulped right hand with his left. The Glock was sent clattering to the floor.

He stared at the blood pouring down his arm for a moment, then looked up at me. “What took you so long?” he asked heavily, convulsing with pain. “What are you waiting for?”

“It was a long drive from Nevada,” I said coldly.

Gordon froze and stared at my face intently for a moment. “V . . . Valentine? They sent you?” He paused for a moment, grunting in pain. “Jesus, I should’ve known. Well, just . . . just get it over with.” He looked down at his desk.

“Gordon,” I said slowly, keeping my weapon trained on him, “who is it that you think sent me?”

“What? You mean you’re not . . .” Gordon trailed off for a moment. He then let out a pained laugh. “You picked a hell of a day to show up.”

“What are you talking about?” My patience was running out.

Gordon nodded his head at his computer screen. The Drudge Report had a lead article about Project Heartbreaker and the abandonment of American personnel in Zubara. Bob Lorenzo had come through. He’d leaked Hunter’s flash drive, or at least part of it, to the public. “They told me there was no reason for my family to suffer,” Gordon said slowly, grasping his bleeding hand even tighter. “They let me send my wife away with my little girl. They . . . they told me to wait here. They said they’d come for me.”

“Who?” I asked. “Majestic?”

Gordon managed a sardonic, half-in-shock smile, all while tears of pain were leaking involuntarily from his eyes. “You think you got it all figured out because you found out a name?” He scoffed, wincing in pain as he did so. “You have no idea the forces that are at work here, kid. This is bigger than us. They know everything now. They know about the deal I made with Eduard Montalban. They even found out I was proceeding on Blue!”

“I’m not working for anybody. You don’t know why I’m here, do you?” Gordon looked at me in silence, inebriated from both shock and alcohol. My face hardened. “Her name was Sarah.”

“What? Oh . . . right . . . McAllister. I was sent a report about you two.”

“I know. I read it. She’s dead because of you, you son of a bitch!”

“I know,” Gordon groaned, squirming from the pain. “What do you want me to say? I was cleaning up loose ends. It was part of the deal. But that’s all ruined now. They found out.”

I smiled coldly. “Hunter gave me a lot of information before he died. I made sure it got into the right hands.”

“You? You did this? Do you have any idea the damage you’ve done? Well you’ll find out soon enough. Or not. I don’t know. They’ll probably just kill you. You should’ve taken me up on my offer.”

“And you should’ve listened when I told you not to fuck with me.” Then I shot him through the heart. The bullet punched through the back of his chair in a splash of blood, and Gordon tumbled to the floor.

I stood there for what seemed like a long time, not moving. I slowly lowered my gun. It was done; Gordon was dead. I’d avenged Sarah.

Yet I felt no satisfaction. Nothing had changed, except I’d ended one more life. Ling had warned me that if I went down this road, I might not like what I found when I reached the end. She was right. I’d reached the end, and I felt nothing.

Turning to leave the room, I nearly ran into the barrels of several suppressed weapons. A full squad of men dressed in tac gear was standing in the hall.

“Drop your weapon!” one of the men commanded.

Very slowly, I laid my revolver down on the carpet. I stepped back and placed my hands behind my head. The men in the hall rushed me then. I was turned around and slammed against the wall. My hands were roughly pulled behind my back and cuffed together.

Searing pain shot through me as one of the men shoved a high-powered taser into my back. I gasped for air,