Shadow zero, p.17
SHADOW ZERO, page 17
Maya rolled to her feet when she hit the ground and lunged toward Bakari, who was on his hands and knees a few yards from her. The fall had knocked her throwing spear out of his back, but the big man was slow to get up.
She planted her thrusting spear again, but just as she drew close, Bakari whipped around like a snake, leaning away from her spear and sending the throwing spear straight for her heart. She was barely able to knock the weapon out of the way with her own spear, but her momentum carried her straight into the giant terrorist.
He reached for her with his other hand, grabbing a fistful of her shoulder-length hair. He wrenched, yanking her to the ground. The blow knocked the wind from her lungs, but she retained enough presence of mind to roll out of the way of the throwing spear that he drove toward her chest.
The spear hit the ground instead. The force of that splintered the thin spear. Maya got to her feet, flicking the tip of her spear toward Bakari’s face. He flinched as the tip of the dagger opened his right cheek.
She thrust again, but he rolled over and got to his feet, facing her from ten feet away, lips pulled back, yellow teeth bared under bloodshot eyes.
“You bitch,” he snarled. “You fucking whore.”
“Very original,” she replied drily.
She feinted toward his face, and when he brought his hands up to protect it, she flicked the point downward, thrusting into his thigh again. The spear went in about three inches before it torqued and nearly pulled out of her hands. It felt like stabbing an oak tree.
She pulled the spear out, but he caught it with both hands. With a bellow of rage, he spun the spear around, dragging her in a circle and tearing it from her grip.
She rolled, drawing a throwing spear as she did. When she got to her feet, she threw the spear, but he dodged, the weapon sailing harmlessly past his neck. He grinned and flipped her thrusting spear around so the dagger now faced her.
Maya pulled another throwing spear but kept it in her hand. Once more, the two combatants faced each other, circling like boxers looking for an opening.
An explosion sounded in the building behind them, and Maya’s eyes flicked toward the noise. Bakari took advantage of her mistake, rushing forward and shoving the spear. Maya reacted too late to do anything but backpedal. She smacked the thrusting spear out of the way with her throwing spear, but Bakari overpowered her, thrusting again and again and again, forcing her backwards and not giving her a chance to recover.
In desperation, she kicked up at the spear. He pulled the spear away, laughing, then lunged forward at an angle. Fortunately, Maya had anticipated that. She dropped to the ground, pushed forward with her arms, and rolled to her feet, thrusting upward with the throwing spear.
Once more, Bakari demonstrated shocking speed. The spearpoint meant for his abdomen entered his bicep instead. He cried out, dropping the throwing spear, but instead of backing away, he yanked his arm close, trying to pull Maya toward him.
Maya had the presence of mind to release the throwing spear, but when she bent to pick up the thrusting spear, Bakari kicked. The blow caught her in the middle of her sternum with enough force to lift her off of the ground.
She hit her back with a gasp, writhing as pain radiated through her body in deep rapid waves.
Bakari pulled the throwing spear from his arm. Blood spurted from the wound, clotting the dirt where it fell. He snarled at the stricken agent. “Now you die!”
Time seemed to slow. A cold voice spoke in Maya’s head. She recognized the voice as her father’s, but not the goofy sweetness of Reid Lawson. This was the calculating viciousness of Kent Steele.
He’ll bring the spear high and try to impale you with it. When he does, kick him hard in his groin. Roll to your feet and use the other throwing spear to stab him through his neck. Move quickly. You’ll only have a moment.
This advice flitted across her mind in a fraction of a second. By the end, Bakari had the spear aloft, roaring with the delight of the coming kill.
Maya kicked upward with every ounce of force she could muster. The toe of her boot landed solidly on the softest part of Bakari’s body. His mouth and eyes popped open comically, and the spear fell from his hands as he stumbled backwards, hands pressed to his stricken manhood.
Maya got to her feet. Since Bakari dropped his spear, she picked that one up and rushed him with it. He raised a hand to ward off the blow, but her father’s voice was right. Bakari’s judgment had short-circuited as his body struggled to cope with a pain that no man could endure.
Just before her spear pierced Bakari’s throat, a hole opened in his forehead. Maya cursed and dropped to the ground, then turned around, intent on scolding Trent for risking a shot so close to her head.
It wasn’t Trent. Above her, in the trees, nine men wearing full battle gear and carrying scoped rifles clustered around the data core. A deep warbling noise erupted from the dying Bakari. One of the men lifted his rifle and shot the leader again, cutting the sound off.
Bakari fell, and Maya sighed with relief. The CIA had rescued her.
“Geu yeojado jug-yeo. ppalli umjig-yeo.”
Maya’s blood chilled. The man who had killed Bakari turned toward her, his eyes cold.
Not CIA. These were North Koreans. The “buyers” had arrived.
Maya spoke Korean. The CIA anticipated that the new Supreme Leader would become trouble. It appeared they were right.
More pressing were the words the North Korean Leader had spoken.
“Kill the girl too. Move quickly.”
Maya, armed only with a throwing spear, threw it with all of her strength. It hit the Korean's body armor, and the tip splintered without so much as making the man flinch.
He aimed his rifle at her, and Maya prepared for the end.
CHAPTER TWENTY SIX
Alan Reidigger sat in the basement of his cabin outside of Lovettsville and wiped sweat from his brow. His fingers flew over three different keyboards, and six different monitors streamed images and information while his eyes flicked over each one and tried to make sense of all of it.
An ordinarily smooth English voice, now fraught with worry, spoke over the speaker to Alan’s right. “Okay,” Penny said. “That should do it.”
When the textured expanse of green that filled Alan’s screens was replaced with infrared images of the compound and the surrounding jungle, Alan pumped his fist and cried, “Yes! Hell yeah! Penny, if I wasn’t reasonably sure that Todd could kick my ass, I’d kiss you on the mouth!”
Penny giggled. “Well, I have a tendency to drink myself into a stupor after saving the world. Catch me at the right moment, and you might get lucky.”
Alan grinned and tapped a button on the speaker. “Hey, Todd. You hear that, buddy?”
“I heard,” Todd said drily. “Fortunately for you, you’re an hour away from me, and I’m busy committing treason.”
“We’re all committing treason,” Penny reminded him.
“It’s not a contest,” her husband replied. “What do you see, Alan?”
“I see the compound. I’ve got two figures engaged in combat near the trees. Based on their movements, one of them is definitely Maya. The other one is big and mad, but Maya’s outfighting him.”
“Wonderful. What else?”
“Well, I’ve got two people acting like Grade A badasses fighting in the building against a whole bunch of bad guys.”
“Wait. Two people?”
Alan caught his mistake, but it was too late. He still wasn’t ready to reveal Zero’s return yet, though, so he replied. “Yeah, I’m guessing Trent made a friend.”
“So Trent’s alive too?”
“Unless Maya made two friends.”
“Outstanding!” Todd said. “If I wasn’t reasonably sure that Penny would kick my ass, I’d kiss you on the mouth, Alan.”
Alan laughed heartily. “Well, I’ve always thought you were a fine hunk of All-American, Todd. We might all get lucky.”
Penny giggled again. “Okay boys, focus. Our heroes are winning right now, but if I hear you correctly, Alan, they’re badly outnumbered.”
“They are. How soon can help get there, Todd?”
“The team’s on their way from Dar es Salaam already. Figure an hour and ten, maybe an hour and fifteen.”
Alan’s smile faded. “Seriously? That long?”
“It took a bit of doing to get everyone to Africa without raising alarms,” Todd said, a little guiltily.
“Well, for God’s sake, Todd, you couldn’t raise a few alarms in the interest of saving your agents?”
“That’s not fair,” Penny said, coming to her husband’s defense. “We’re all doing our best here, Alan.”
Alan sighed. He remembered his conversation with Zero and understood completely why his old friend was frustrated with his own reticence. “Yeah, I get it. I’m sorry. I think I just celebrated too soon.”
“We all did,” Todd replied. “I guess we’re out of practice. I’m used to letting the kids handle the stress now.”
“I sure as hell feel too old for this,” Alan grumbled. “I don’t suppose Harris’s SOG team is any closer?”
“If they were, I would happily fall on my sword to pass this information along to her,” Todd said, “but they just took off from Langley three hours ago. They’ve got another twelve hours to go before they parachute in.”
Alan sighed and pressed his fingers to their temples. Penny calmed them both down by reminding him, "You said they're fighting like Grade A badasses. Let's give them the benefit of the doubt. All they need to do is find a way into the jungle, and then they'll be home free, right?"
Alan nodded. “Yeah. Yeah, they can evade these guys.” He looked back at the screen. Trent and Zero were moving through the building toward the exit. Their progress was slow, and they were still slogging through dozens of bad guys, but they were moving.
As for Maya, her fight with the other man still raged, but he was slowing down while Maya was maintaining her pace. She was dancing around him, still using her superior skill to evade her opponent’s presumably superior size and strength.
They would be okay.
He took a breath and pushed it out slowly. “Okay, yeah, they’re doing all right. Tell your team to be ready to rain hellfire and brimstone just in case they’re still at the compound, but I think we might get out of this one all right.” He chuckled. “Christ this family. They have the worst and the best luck of any family I’ve ever met.”
“Story of our lives,” Penny said.
“Just talked to Bolton,” Todd said. “They’re ready to raise hell. I asked politely for them to try to be quiet, but you know Bolton. Anything he can do to blow things up, and he’ll do it.”
Alan frowned. “I don’t know Bolton. One of yours?”
“Oh yeah, you don’t know Bolton. I forget you’re not Agency anymore. Yeah, he’s one of mine. I poached him from SOG a few months ago. He’s more of a sledgehammer than a scalpel, but there are times—like now—when you need sledgehammers.”
Alan nodded. “Yep. Just like the Peter Gabriel song.”
“What?”
He waved his hand. “Never mind. You’re too young to know that.”
“I got it,” Penny piped up.
“Yeah? Good for you. You have good taste.”
“Thank you.”
Alan folded his hands and watched the battle unfold, but his newfound calm disappeared when new infrared signals appeared on his monitors. He frowned and said, “Hey, Todd, how sure are you that the CIA doesn’t have any other assets in the area?”
“Pretty damned,” Todd replied. “Why?”
A pit formed in Alan’s stomach. “Because if the CIA doesn’t have assets there yet, then the nine men approaching the compound are not our friends.”
“What?” Todd barked.
“Yeah,” Alan said. “Shit!”
“What are they doing?” Todd asked. “Are they joining the fighting?”
“Not yet. They’ve stopped on the edge of the forest. Penny, are you sure you can’t get me optical?”
“Not through the trees, no. I can get you some CGI images, but I can’t provide distinguishing features. It would just be the computer’s guesswork.”
“It’s the buyers,” Todd said, his voice clipped with concern. “It has to be.”
“Yeah, I think you’re right,” Alan said. “Hold on.”
A streak of yellow flashed between one of the newcomers and the man fighting Maya. A moment later, another streak hit the man, and he fell to the ground. Alan’s brow furrowed. “Well, they just killed Maya’s opponent, and it doesn’t look like they’re trying to kill her.”
“Todd,” Penny interrupted. “They have the core.”
Alan blinked. “What?”
“The newcomers. Here.”
Alan’s screen changed. Magnetic lines overlaid the infrared. The lines converged on a point in between the nine newcomers. Penny had searched for the core’s electromagnetic signature and found it in the company of their new arrivals.
His eyes widened. The identity of the newcomers became glaringly, horribly clear.
“Oh shit. It’s the buyers.”
He watched helplessly as Maya threw a weapon at one of the new enemies. Alan couldn’t see the weapon through the infrared image, but he could see that whatever it was, it didn’t phase the attacker at all.
Oh God, no. We’re too late.
***
Sara gasped and sat bolt upright. She had been napping on the couch in Maya’s living room. She had no idea how she managed to fall asleep while Maya was missing and possibly dead.
Might have something to do with the fact that I spent the previous sixty hours awake.
She checked her phone. She had only slept for twenty minutes, but she felt no trace of weariness anymore. In its place was a sharp, sick fear.
Maya’s in trouble. She’s in trouble.
“Sara? Is everything okay?”
That was Mischa. She sounded so damned calm. Sara admired Mischa’s steel and loved that her younger sister was able to remain sanguine, but at the same time, she hated it so much.
She shook her head. “No.”
“What’s wrong? Did you hear something about Maya?”
Sara snatched her phone off of the coffee table and swung her feet forward. She checked her messages. No updates. The last bit of info came from Alan a few hours ago. Working with Penny to get image of compound. Maya believed alive. More info soon.
Sara took a deep breath. “No. No new information.” She tried to convince herself that was a good thing, but a sick fear clenched her heart, and she couldn’t shake the sense that something terrible was either about to happen or happening right now.
Mischa sat next to her and slipped her hand into Sara’s. Sara squeezed it tightly. Later, she would feel guilty about relying on her fifteen-year-old sister for calm when she was technically the adult, but right now, it was all she could do not to panic.
“We should be there,” Sara said. “We should be with her. I was wrong. Alan was wrong. We should have gone to her.”
“Hush,” Mischa said firmly. “Maya is strong. She will be all right.”
Sara shook her head. “How do you know? How can you know?”
“I don’t know,” Mischa said, “I believe.”
Sara turned toward her. “You believe?”
“Yes. I don’t know if Maya is okay because I don’t have the information I need to know. I can’t see her. I can’t see the battlefield on which she is fighting. I can’t hear her voice. It’s impossible to know for sure if she’s okay. But I believe she is because I believe there are no threats on Earth which could cause her to lose her resolve, and I further believe that her resolve is strong enough to overcome anything.” She frowned, her youthful face wrinkling adorably. “I feel like I have said the same thing twice. I don’t know if I’ve made my point correctly.”
Sara kissed her forehead. “I think you made it perfectly.” She surprised herself by managing a real smile. “You’re right. Maya’s the strongest person I know. She can handle anything.” Sara laughed. “Hell, the two of us embarrassed the CIA for months. Well, the three of us, but Trent was kind of just there.”
“Trent is there now,” Mischa said. “Do you believe he is all right?”
Sara frowned. “Do you?”
“I’m not sure. I admire him as a lover for Maya, but I don’t dwell much on his abilities as a CIA agent.”
Sara wasn’t very comfortable with the way Mischa phrased the first half of that statement, but the second half was more important anyway. “Well, from what Maya says, he’s very capable and very strong. And he loves Maya. If Maya’s in danger, then there’s no force on Earth that will keep Trent away from her.”
She nodded. “So, yes. I believe he’s all right. I think they’re both fighting like heroes right now and showing the world why you don’t mess with the United States of America.”
“But they do. People mess with the United States all the time. Do you mean they are showing the world why people are never successful when they mess with the United States?”
Sara laughed and kissed Mischa’s forehead. “Yes. That’s what I mean.” She jumped to her feet. “Come on. I feel like some ice cream. Let’s grab a couple of pints from the convenience store.”
Mischa shrugged. “If you wish.”
Sara really didn’t feel like ice cream at all right now. Her conversation with Mischa was encouraging, but the dread in her chest remained a pit in the middle of her core that sucked all of her calm and hope into its abyss. She just needed something to do to keep enough of her mind occupied to keep the rest from spiraling out of control.
“Let’s walk too,” she told Mischa. “Burn off some calories before we ingest them right back.”
“If you would like,” Mischa called from her bedroom upstairs.
