Shadow cell 02 shadows r.., p.7
Shadow Cell 02 Shadows Rising, page 7
Heck, there were other people doing that job.
Ironically, he was the one person in the world that should understand why she was doing it, why she was hunting down terrorists.
She could also see his side, though, and knew if he’d gone back to working for the secretive Axis agency, her feelings would be similar.
Adriana got through it by telling herself it was only temporary, that she wouldn’t do this forever. Just long enough to eliminate the Red Ring and restore some semblance of safety to the free world.
Then another thought crept into her mind. What if that never happened?
She shook it off and went back to the story she’d given Sean. It was the second time she’d had to tell him a tall tale about her travels and what she was up to. He bought it, of course, because why wouldn’t he? Sean had no reason not to trust her.
The door to the tea shop swung open and let in a burst of cold air from outside. June tapped her feet on the doormat to get rid of the snow on her boots before stepping inside.
She eased into a seat across from Adriana and set a stack of files on the table.
“What’s that?” Adriana asked, taking another swig from her cup. She set the container down on a saucer. The porcelain clinked when it touched. The tea room was old-fashioned, rumored to date back to the 1700s. Adriana figured the interior decor certainly reflected that period. “Dossiers for terrorists?”
“Something like that,” June said with a smile. “Although not necessarily the ones we’re looking for.”
“The prisoners give you what you wanted?”
“Sort of,” June said with a shrug. “They gave us names, places, pickup times, even a few targets, but I get the feeling those guys didn’t know that much. It could take weeks to piece together the information they shared.”
“Weeks?”
“Yeah. By then, who knows? The men in charge of their little operation could disappear. They’ll go into hiding and only resurface when they think the heat has been turned down.”
Adriana took a deep breath and exhaled. “So…what now?”
“Now? I’m going to visit my boyfriend; that’s what now. I’m sure Sean would love to see you, too.”
“Shouldn’t we be working on finding the guys responsible for all this mess?”
“Our top analysts are on it. They can work on that stuff faster than us. And like I said, it might take them weeks, maybe longer to find even one guy on the list those prisoners gave us. They’ll be underground for a while.”
Adriana wondered if she could expedite things with some of her connections in the grayer parts of society. She had plenty of friends in low places, though when she thought about it she realized that most of them weren’t connected to terrorists, not that she knew of.
“Sean and Tommy are off searching for some ancient relic right now,” Adriana said. “I’m not even sure how to get in contact with them.”
“Another ancient relic?” June let out a laugh. “I wonder what they’ve gotten themselves into this time.”
Adriana rolled her shoulders. “Not sure. Although I got the distinct impression Sean didn’t give me the details because he was embarrassed.”
June chuckled. “Embarrassed? Of what?”
“I don’t know,” Adriana said with a shake of the head. “Like he didn’t want me to know what he was trying to find.”
“J. Edgar Hoover’s women’s clothing?”
Adriana let out a laugh. She was Spanish but had been Americanized enough to have heard the stories of the FBI’s infamous first director.
“I doubt that’s what they were looking for. He said it was very old and very important.”
June nodded. “It always is with those two.” She picked up a menu and browsed through it. Seeing nothing that whetted her appetite, she set it back down. “I suppose if we really want to track them down we can. Those two tend to leave a trail of destruction in their wake.”
“Indeed. I’ll give Sean a call later today and see where they are. Maybe if they’re in this part of the world we can meet up.”
“Good idea. For now, just be ready. When the guys in charge of the Red Ring resurface, we need to be able to move at a moment’s notice.”
“Understood.”
18
Uzbekistan
Thank you for the information,” the Teacher said.
The man standing in front of him wore a cut that stretched from his temple down to the corner of his mouth. He looked like he’d been through a war. A bruise on his forehead, the cut on his face, and grime from smoke, dirt, and grease streaked his skin.
“Yes, Master.” The reply was simple and respectful.
“It is a miracle that you managed to survive the explosion as well as find a way to get away from the mine undetected.”
The old man gazed at his pupil with narrow, analytical eyes. He was probing the subordinate, though he was fairly certain the younger man didn’t realize it.
“Allah be praised,” the man said.
His pale face was more so than normal.
“Have you had anything to eat or drink since the ordeal?”
The younger man shook his head. “I knew I needed to tell you as soon as I could. And I wanted to fast for my sins.”
The Teacher gave a long, dramatic nod. “You were right to do so.”
He stood up and hobbled over to the younger man, putting his arm around the visitor’s shoulders. He steered him around, facing a balcony door on the far side of the sparsely decorated room. There were no pictures, no sofas, no fancy tables. Only a few wooden chairs, a desk that looked like it was made from reclaimed wood, and candles on top of it.
If an outsider were to see the place, they’d have sworn a minimalist lived there.
“I wonder,” the Teacher said as he guided his pupil toward the door, “how it was you were able to escape.”
The younger man turned his head to look at his master. He had a confused expression on his face, wondering why the Teacher would ask that of him.
The master clarified. “You’ve given me good information on the two women, although we knew about them before. They were responsible, we think, for the destruction of our rockets that were going to strike London. But I find it odd that all of our men died except for you. So, please, enlighten me as to how you managed to get away unharmed.”
The younger man swallowed hard. He could tell the Teacher was pressing him for a specific answer. “I didn’t run like a coward if that’s what you’re saying, sir. I swear it. I would die for our cause.” The young man’s Eastern European accent had a nervous quiver to it.
“Interesting,” the Teacher said, “because here you are, standing in my home while your brothers are dead in a mountain somewhere in Albania.”
The older man didn’t look at his guest, instead staring out the door at the snow-covered peaks of the Chatkal Mountains. He flung open the door, letting in a burst of cold air that shook the young man to his bones.
The Teacher showed no signs of the cold affecting him, though the visitor assumed it chilled him just as much, if not more.
“Shouldn’t we stay inside, Master? It’s very cold out here.”
The old man nodded but ushered his guest out onto the balcony with him. “Yes, I just want you to see something.”
He stopped at the white stone railing and placed his left hand on top of it. He gazed out at the majestic mountain range, rising up above all else in the region. The two could make out the tiny figures of skiers and snowboarders sliding down the slopes of Chimgan Mountain in the distance.
“It’s funny, don’t you think?” the Teacher asked after a moment of reflection.
“What’s that?” There was a quiver in the young man’s voice.
“People spend so much time trying to enjoy this life, trying to cling to it with all their might, with every ounce of their being. They pray for more years or better health, when the truth is that the life that awaits us is far greater. Eternity will be spent in paradise for those of us who have been true to the word of mighty Allah.”
The younger man nodded.
“Of course, for those who have betrayed the cause and put themselves and their own preservation before it, their eternal fate will be much different.”
The young man frowned at the comment, immediately understanding that the Teacher was referring to his escape from Tirana.
“Master, I swear—”
The old man gripped the railing with one hand and the back of his guest’s shirt with the other. His fingers were stronger than they appeared, as if imbued with some supernatural force. He used the rail for leverage and found it surprisingly easy to throw the younger man over.
The Teacher watched as the body tumbled through the air, four stories, until it struck the concrete driveway below with a sudden and terrible thud.
The old man turned away and walked back into his home as if the murder hadn’t even happened. He knew someone else would clean up the mess. In fact, he’d already told his second in command what would happen. At that very moment, there were probably six or seven men disposing of the body and washing down the concrete.
The treasonous young man would be fed to the dogs, a fate he deserved for abandoning the others.
Sure, there was a flicker of doubt in the Teacher’s mind. The man he’d just killed had given him as much information as he could. And the boy didn’t have to come all the way to Uzbekistan. He’d done it of his own accord.
Had he decided to lie low for a while, maybe drop off the radar, he might still be alive.
It didn’t matter in the grand scheme of things.
The men of the Red Ring had to know that failure was unacceptable, and that retreating was not an option.
“Aziz!” he shouted. His voice echoed through the chamber encased in sandstone.
A moment later, a man with a nearly bald head and dark, thick eyebrows walked through a door at the other end. He wore a gray peacoat and black pants. A pistol hung from a holster on the inside of his jacket.
“Yes, sir?” The guy stopped just a few feet into the room.
“How are preparations coming at our second installation?”
“The men are working as fast as they can, day and night. Some of them aren’t even taking sleep. That facility will have everything ready on schedule.”
“Good,” the Teacher said. “I’m sure you’re aware of what happened in Albania to our brothers there.”
Aziz gave a somber nod but said nothing.
“That sets us back, but we can adapt. Our timeline will have to be pushed forward. Have that one and our third facility add more men. We have recruits waiting for orders, yes?”
“Yes,” Aziz said and gave another nod.
“Reinforce both installations, and make sure that the men get at least a few hours of sleep and are well cared for. While I appreciate their fervor, the last thing we need is shoddy preparations. Everything must work perfectly, down to the guns they fire on the nonbelievers.”
“Of course, sir. I will take care of it.”
“You may leave.”
Aziz nodded and left the room.
The Teacher eased back into his seat and looked out the balcony door windows at the mountains beyond.
His plans had been delayed. But they were far from being stopped.
Ernest Dempsey, Shadow Cell 02 Shadows Rising
