and stare, or are you gonna get the hell out?' said a voice.
Anna lurched onto the highway, panting, and found D-Bar standing there, a manic grin on his face. The unmanned truck was idling nearby, blocking the view of the wrecked van from passing traffic. The hacker jerked his thumb at a sporty Redline roadster parked nearby on the hard shoulder. 'C'mon, your ride's here.'
'You did that?' She blinked. 'Tyler… Drake… You could have killed them!'
D-Bar gaped. 'Excuse me, but weren't they taking you off to some deep dark hole, never to return? And you re welcome, by the way!' Anna took two steps toward the front of the van, but D-Bar grabbed her arm and pulled her back. 'The driver is okay, I checked. Don't worry, I don't want a murder rap any more than you do.'
Limping, she followed him to the sports car; it was a Falcon GTG, worth maybe ten times the sticker price of Kelso's commonplace sedan.
'I hadda dump your wheels,' he said, before she could ask. 'Which I managed to do, despite the whole handcuffing thing…' He drifted off, and paused. For the first time, Anna noticed he was wearing an earphone. 'Yeah, okay,' he said, speaking to the air. 'Just monitor the traffic cameras at the exits. If anything looks jagged, let me know.'
'Who are you talking to?' she demanded.
'Some people. Springing you, getting a new ride, all on short notice, that had to be a team effort, y'know? And I'm still waiting for some gratitude.' He pointed. 'There's some clothes in the back, nothing fancy though. Better ditch the romper suit soon-as, yeah?'
She reached the car and sagged against the hood. 'Temple. It's Ron Temple, he's the leak. The son-of-a- bitch was giving the Tyrants all they needed.'
D-Bar nodded gravely. 'Okay. Well, look, don't sweat it. We know it's him now, so there are other approaches we can make. And with your help
– '
Anna shook her head. 'I'm not in this to help you, I'm doing this for me. For Matt.' She tore off the prison garb and threw it into the bushes, ignoring D-Bar as he gawked at her. From the backseat she recovered a track suit and sweatshirt. 'He has a contact, he must have. I'm going to make him give it to me.' She climbed into the car and started the engine.
Abruptly, D-Bar realized that she wasn't going to take him with her. 'What about me? You're just gonna leave me out here on the highway?'
'I don't trust you!' she snapped, stamping on the accelerator. The Falcon peeled out into the main lane with a snarl of engine noise that smothered the hacker's string of curses. She aimed for the next exit, already plotting the route in her head that would take her back toward the
D.C. suburbs.
Romeo Airport-Michigan-United States of America
The helo extended its rotor-rings and turned them this way and that, running through the last of the preflight checks. Saxon watched, his fist tapping absently against his thigh. It seemed like they had been here for hours, primed and ready to go, watching the clock. Waiting for the word from the forward waypoint. Once or twice he had seen Hardesty and Barrett in quiet conversation, talking animatedly in low tones that didn't carry. Saxon found himself wishing he had an aural booster implant, or maybe one of those lip-reader software upgrades for his optics.
He looked away, unable to ease the tension knotting in his chest. After the fight room, after that night in London, he'd expected this feeling to drop away-but it was still there. Saxon could not shake it, no matter how hard he tried. He still felt like an outsider-what he had thought were the first inklings of comradeship were ghosts, illusions. The reality was that the bond of brotherhood, of shared purpose he'd felt in the service and then again with Strike Six, was absent here. He wondered if he was fooling himself, holding on to some mawkish ideal of esprit de corps.
Perhaps there was no place for something like that in the Tyrants.
His train of thought stalled as Namir emerged from the hatch of the transport plane, stepping quickly down the ramp. The other man had been called back aboard by the pilot; Saxon had caught the tail end of the conversation, something about an urgent signal from 'the group.' Now the commander's face was furrowed with irritation; whatever he had been told, Namir wasn't happy about it.
'We're going?' Hermann asked, gathering up his rifle. He couldn't keep the eagerness from his voice.
Namir ignored him and beckoned Federova closer as he approached Barrett and Hardesty. 'There's been a change of plan,' he said, his tone terse. He glanced at the big American. 'Lawrence, it seems you'll have the chance to put your boasts to the test. We're proceeding with the Sarif exfiltration at reduced capacity. I expect you to compensate, yes?'
Barrett gave a nod. 'Not a problem.'
Namir nodded to Federova. 'Yelena, you and I will accompany him.'
'You're benching us?' said Hardesty. 'What the hell for?'
'Close your mouth and listen, Scott.' Namir's reply was sharp. 'There's been a development. Apparently, one of our North American assets has been compromised and there's a very real danger of some serious blowback. The situation needs to be dealt with immediately.' His gaze bored into the other man. 'A scorched-earth protocol is now in effect. You will lead a team to expedite immediately.' He nodded toward Saxon and the German.
Hardesty's expression changed. If anything, he seemed reassured. 'Well. That's different.'
'Sir,' insisted Hermann, 'we have an objective here, in Detroit. We've planned and prepared for it.'
'And now you have a new one. Adaptability is something I require from all my operatives, Gunther. Circumstances on the ground are always fluid. We meet the mission needs as they occur.' Namir's tone made it clear he would brook no questioning of these orders. He offered Hardesty a data slate. 'This isn't something we can trust to hired hands. Details are here. Transport has already been dispatched for the rest of us. The helo is at your disposal.'
Hardesty nodded, scanning the data. 'It'll be tight. We'll have to do this quick and dirty.'
'I made that clear to the group,' Namir replied. 'It's not an issue.'
'Fine.' Hardesty passed the slate to Hermann and walked away to brief the pilot of the flyer.
Saxon broke his silence. 'This… asset. You want a straight recovery?'
Namir shook his head. 'No. Locate, terminate, and sanitize the area.'
Terminate and sanitize. He had just handed them an assassination mission. Hermann passed Saxon the slate and asked another question.
'There's little suggestion of what kind of resistance we can expect.'
'Minor' Namir replied. 'Nonlethal embedded security. Perhaps one or two threat vectors, including the target himself. The primary concern is that the asset does not escape and no materials are left behind in any recoverable state.'
Saxon read, and he kept his expression neutral. The location was an expensive gated community, part of a suburb of Washington, D.C., called
Great Falls. In the helo, flying full tilt, he estimated they could reach it in less than ninety minutes. The target's residence was a large home set in grounds and woodland; he ran his finger over the surface of the slate to reveal the next page, and found the face of the person Namir wanted them to kill looking back at him. He read on, and his eyes narrowed. 'This man is a federal agent.'
Namir came closer. He nodded, making no attempt to show any disquiet over Saxon's concern. 'Correct. As such, he may be armed. He's certain to be on alert, given the situation.'
'Which is what?' Saxon insisted. 'I'd like to know what requires the murder of a ranking officer of the United States Secret Service.'
'Ben,' said Namir, his human and synthetic eyes measuring him carefully. 'You need to believe me when I tell you that this is necessary. You have to trust me. The Tyrants have a mission, and sometimes that mission requires that we make choices that are difficult, ugly… bloody. But I know you understand that.'
'Why does this man need to die?' He didn't flinch from Namir's gaze. 'What's the reason behind all this, Jaron? I've followed your orders… the group's orders without question now for months. But blind faith in your CO only goes so far.'
Namir nodded. 'I respect your honesty. It's part of the reason I recruited you. So I'll give an answer, but it
