Benton who had been sitting on the other side of Mason suddenly declared, “Whoever they are. We’ve got to stop these guys.”
Mason echoed, “You got that right.”
Luke finalized this sentiment by solemnly directing, “Alright, let’s get to work.”
ABOUT 30 MINUTES LATER. Each team member was their own unique flurry of activity as fingers typed and eyes scrolled over countless news feeds and other important sources of data. Sifting through the mountains of information, they were desperately trying to connect the dots so that they could figure out just who it was that were deranged enough to carry out these egregious attacks.
Mason asked Kyle who was seated at a desk behind him, “Any luck?”
Kyle shook his head, “No—so far, nothing. Just the same old information repeated on the same news stations every few minutes.”
Kyle sighed, “They just keep talking about a car exploding in downtown Rome from an unknown assailant releasing the virus… but still haven’t connected any dots yet.
It was just then that Mason’s phone began to ring, vibrating on the table. Mason grabbed it as he read off the caller ID, “What—that’s the Pentagon!”
Mason answered, “Hello?”
As he listened in for a moment, a grave look came across his face, “Oh—I see.”
Mason then ended the call with a curt, “Yes sir—will do.”
Shortly thereafter he hung up the phone. He then turned to the group and informed them, “That was General Thomson. He has just confirmed that the group behind the viral attack in Italy was indeed the same group that we’ve dealt with before.”
Raina cursed, “Damn...”
Kyle asked, “How did they find out?”
Mason answered, “I guess this isn’t out in the general media yet—but investigators in Rome found a key piece of evidence at the scene—pulled right from the wreckage of the burned-out car.”
Mason continued, “The detonator from the explosive device that had gone off was retrieved and after further analysis, it was determined to be 99% identical to similar devices made by the Iranian bomb maker Khalif Hatim—who in turn is linked back to a group of Italian based terrorists.”
Raina muttered, “By blood we cleanse…”
Mason confirmed, “Yes—they would be the ones.
Taking a breath, Mason then revealed, “And although the higher ups were not completely pleased with our efforts last time, it has been determined that due to our previous experience we are most likely the best group to have on the case.”
Marshal Oliver cynically remarked, “So they think that we screwed up royally before but they don’t have anyone else capable of taking this job? Or they just don’t have anyone else period?”
Mason Walker was growing more fed up with Marshal by the hour, but stayed silent. Instead it was Raina who sighed, “Well gee-whiz, if that’s not a great consolation…”
Mason had more info to reveal however, as he informed them, “According to Thomson there is still an active terror cell for this group working out of NYC. And it’s now believed that they are plotting additional attacks right here in the United States.”
Benton cursed, “Shit…”
Mason then glanced at all of his associates as he asked, “So do you want to do it or not—everybody in?”
To which they all variously nodded, and offered their personal pledge of support. Mason himself vowed his undying resolve to capture the bozos that had at one time captured him, announcing, “This mission only has three possible outcomes; either they go to prison, get killed, or I get killed—I’m going to get these guys.
14
Finding Leads and Taking Names
THE NEXT DAY, AT A MAKESHIFT ONYX COMMAND CENTER IN NYC.
Mason was seated at a desk. Mathew Benton was seated nearby on a chair overlooking a window. He was getting ready to say something, “Hey Mason—” when the inopportune roar of an oncoming subway car drowned out his words.
Chris Bradley noting the difficulty, yelled over the din of metal wheels grating on steel railing, and the jarring vibration of concrete, “Wow you really know how to pick an HQ Mace—at the bottom of a train station no less!”
Mason not in the mood for such caustic critiques shouted back, “Look—you try to get a base of operations set up within 24 hours’ time and you’ll see how good you are at it alright? This was the best I could do considering the circumstances!”
It was at this moment that Kyle walked up to Mason and dropped a stack of papers on his desk and announced, “And according to my latest intel, it seems that the guys we’re chasing aren’t much better at founding a headquarters either, it seems that they’ve holed up inside an old abandoned Church in Brooklyn.”
Mason remembering the time that he was held captive inside a similar church in DC grimaced, “Well will wonders never cease—these unimaginative bums seem to be playing right out of the same play book that they had before.”
Mason quickly shuffled through the papers, showing GPS tracking data, block by block in Brooklyn with all of the traffic going back and forth from one source. This one spot on the grid was circled with someone’s red magic marker, with the name “St. Mark’s Protestant Episcopal Church” scrawled underneath it.
Mason muttered in recognition, “St. Mark’s… why does this place sound familiar.” Benton coolly looking across the room at Mason provided the answer, “I know why it sounds familiar to you Mason, it’s because back in the day during that stint me and you did at Ft. Harrison—that’s why it sounds familiar to you.”
Ft Harrison was a sprawling military base on the Southwest side of Brooklyn. Mason had bounced around so many different military installations during his time in the service that he almost forgot about it.
But Benton was indeed able to successfully jar his memory as he recalled, “Oh yeah—we used to walk around that area just outside the base all the time. I know exactly where that church is—it’s in the old historic district.”
Benton not wanting to waste any more time then took the initiative, hopping up from his seat and heading to
