“I’m very aware. After what’s happened in San Francisco, we stand to lose everything.” Wilbur pushes himself off the desk and takes a couple of steps, still thinking. “This is a very dire situation we find ourselves in.”

  “May I make a suggestion?” Orlando says.

  Both men look toward him.

  “Let’s not hang around any longer to see how things play out,” he says. “We leave now, flee overseas – somewhere with no US extradition. For you, Mr. Magnusson, starting over will be easy. You have the means. You take the Wolverines to a country that will buy them – and I’m sure there’s plenty of them out there that won’t worry about the moral quandary your machines have caused Senator Fielder. It won’t take long before you’re back in a house as big as this one. Possibly bigger, in fact.” Orlando can see from the look on Wilbur’s face that he likes this idea.

  Wilbur smiles. “Not bad,” he says. He points at Orlando. “Despite your failures today, I think I like you.”

  “I’m pleased to hear it.”

  “What kind of guarantees can you make that the issues you’ve had today won’t happen again?”

  Orlando shrugs. “Everyone has a bad day. My team and I learn from ours.”

  Wilbur claps. “Excellent. That’s a good answer.”

  Orlando suddenly feels like he’s in an interview.

  “How many men do you have left?” Wilbur says.

  “Three,” Orlando says.

  “And you trust them?”

  Orlando nods.

  “Have any of you ever been to Bolivia, Orlando?” Wilbur says.

  Orlando grins, remembering. “Yes,” he says. “Many times.”

  “He’s been there for me,” Hanley says.

  “And I’ve been when I was still on Uncle Sam’s dime,” Orlando says.

  “I have a lot of contacts in Bolivia,” Wilbur says, ignoring Hanley. “A lot of friends who can take good care of me. Get me back on my feet. Put me in touch with other governments and their militaries. Militaries run by real men. Men of class and taste who understand a good thing when it’s staring them right in the face. A good thing like the Wolverines.”

  Orlando understands. “And there’s no extradition treaty with Bolivia.”

  Wilbur snaps his fingers and points at Orlando. “Bingo,” he says. “I’m going to need security while I get myself set up. Some men who can stick close, and who I can trust. Who can train up some of the locals, make them elite, make sure they’re loyal, too. Are you and your team capable of that, Orlando?”

  “Yes,” Orlando says. “But what about your guards outside?”

  Wilbur waves a dismissive hand. “House security, nothing more. They’ve never been out in the field. Most of them are ex-cons. Street level. There’s nothing special about them. They’re not trained.”

  “What are you getting at here?” Hanley says, his head cocked, suspicious.

  Again, Wilbur ignores him. He looks only at Orlando. “Are you up to the task?”

  “Are you offering me a job?” Orlando says.

  “Now, hey –” Hanley says.

  Wilbur cuts him off. “I could be,” he says. “Today has been an abject failure, but I’ve heard stories of your past exploits. I know you’re more than capable. Are you interested in a change of scene?” His eyes flicker toward Hanley now. “A change of employer?”

  “I guess that would depend,” Orlando says before Hanley can continue protesting.

  “On what?” Wilbur says.

  “Salary, of course,” Orlando says.

  Hanley looks between them both, eyes bugging. He’s concerned about what he’s hearing.

  Wilbur flicks his head toward Hanley. “Double the amount you’re getting from him.”

  “Then consider me newly employed,” Orlando says.

  “And your team?”

  “I speak for them.”

  Wilbur claps his hands together again. “Splendid,” he says.

  Hanley stammers. “Will the two of you just slow down and hear me out one second? Where do I fit into all of this?”

  “That’s a good question, senator,” Wilbur says. He speaks to Orlando. “Your first task as my new employee… I need a problem cleared up.”

  “What’s the problem?” Orlando says.

  He covers his mouth with his hand, then gestures theatrically toward Hanley and, in a stage whisper, says, “The senator problem.”

  “No, wait –” Hanley says.

  Orlando pulls out his handgun. He doesn’t want to make as much noise as the M4 will cause. He shoots Hanley twice through the head. Hanley falls flat to the ground.

  “If we weren’t about to leave,” Wilbur says, “I’d be very disappointed about the mess that blood is making of the rug.”

  The butler pokes his head into the office. He takes in the scene before him, his face dispassionate, then looks at Wilbur. “Sir?” he says.

  “You can take the rest of the night off,” he says. “In fact, consider yourself on an indefinite vacation. When I get settled I’ll be in touch, and you can come meet us there.”

  “Very good, sir,” the butler says, then slips out of the house, closing the door behind him.

  “Your butler,” Orlando says, turning to Wilbur. “British?”

  “No,” Wilbur says. “Just miserable. What’s in Bob’s bag?”

  “Money,” Orlando says. “And some blackmail records you might be interested in.”

  “Will I indeed? Grab it, we’ll take it with.” He starts leaving his office. Orlando grabs the bag, tearing it out of Hanley’s dead hands, and then follows. “I just need to grab a few things,” Wilbur says, “and then we’ll be on our way. Is your chopper fuelled?”

  “Yes, but it’s not going to get us to Bolivia.”

  “We don’t need it to get us that far. Just to one of my factories. It’s not far. I need to get the Wolverines, and their blueprints – perhaps blueprints for a few other items that may be of interest. And then, from there, to my private jet. And then Bolivia.”

  54

  When Tom next sees Lee Cobb, he’s no longer in slacks and a shirt. Instead, he’s dressed in all-black, similar to Orlando and his men. He wears a tactical vest and pads. He’s ready to head out into the field.

  Tom and Nina had become aware of a flurry of activity in the house. It wasn’t loud or invasive, not enough to wake Lauren and Joel, but Tom heard how a lot of the men were suddenly heading to and fro down the hall, and up and down the stairs. He’s not surprised to see that Lee has changed into what he’s wearing.

  “You’ve got something?” Nina says when he enters.

  Jack is close behind him. His clothes have not changed.

  “We got a hit on them,” Lee says. “One of my contacts got word of an Mi-17 refuelling at a Nevada airstrip. Same one that was spotted hovering over the Golden Gate Bridge. My techs were able to get a track on it from there and we’ve been following it since.”

  “Where’s it going?” Tom says.

  “Well, first it came back to California. Went to the home of Wilbur Magnusson.”

  “As we suspected,” Jack says, his tone bitter.

  Lee nods. “But they’re airborne again. I’ve sent some men out there to check it out, but I doubt they’re going to find them there.”

  “Where’s the helicopter going now?” Nina says. “Any idea?”

  “I assume you have some kind of idea,” Tom says, looking Lee over. “Judging by the change of clothing.”

  “There’s no guarantee,” Lee says, “but we’ve plotted the trajectory of their route. And right now it looks like they’re heading for northern California. Santa Rosa, in fact.”

  “What’s in Santa Rosa?” Nina says.

  “It’s not what’s in Santa Rosa,” Lee says. “It’s what’s near it. A WilburForce factory.”

  “Beyond that, they must be planning on escaping,” Jack says. “But they obviously aren’t going to leave empty-handed. Who knows what they could take with them from that factory? They’ll have the blueprints for God knows how many kinds of weapon.”

  “Do you think they’ll take the Wolverines?” Nina says. “This is what this has all been about, right? It would make sense for them to take them.”

  “I dread to think about it,” Jack says.

  “I don’t plan on letting them get away,” Lee says. “No matter what they’re taking. But we’re going to have to move fast. I have a couple of choppers of my own, and they’re currently on their way here as we speak.”

  “What about the police?” Nina says.

  “We’ve already talked about this,” Lee says.

  “Yes, but if it’s a question of speed then surely the local PD can get there before us.”

  “And for what?” Lee says. “What are we going to tell them? Right now they still think the two of you are responsible for what happened today. We don’t have the time to persuade them otherwise. This falls to us. They came at us hard, and now we have to do the same to them. We don’t have time for anything else.”

  “Even if you were able to talk the cops round,” Tom says, “they’d go in with sirens blaring. Scare them off. Spook them straight back into the skies. And then we’ll need to start this process all over again.”

  Jack checks the time. “How long until the choppers arrive?”

  “Less than five minutes,” Lee says. “If we leave then and head straight for Santa Rosa, we should arrive just after them, cut them off there. If they’re fast and airborne before we can land, we’ll at least have them in our sights. We can give chase from there, and do our best to gently persuade them to land.” Tom is sure the gentle persuasion will involve warning gunfire and radioed threats.

  Jack starts to leave the room. “I need to go and wake Lauren and Joel,” he says. “I don’t want them getting scared when they land.” He turns and a moment later they hear him running up the stairs.

  “I’m coming with,” Tom says to Lee.

  Lee nods. “I figured as much. I’ve read your history, Rollins. I know your training, and I know what you’re capable of. There’s some spare tactical gear and weaponry in the spare room upstairs, end of the hall, door on the right. You’ll need to get changed right now.”

  “I’m coming too,” Nina says.

  Lee is a little more reticent this time. “You’re a cop, right? What kind of training have you had?”

  “Weapons and tactics,” Nina says.

  “I can vouch for her,” Tom says. “And we don’t know what we’re heading into. They could be meeting with backup. You’re going to need more bodies.”

  There isn’t much time for debate. Lee nods. “Fine,” he says. “Go with Rollins. There won’t be tactical gear that fits exactly, but it should only be a little baggy on you. Nothing that’ll get in your way.”

  Tom and Nina leave the living room and head upstairs at a run. As they make their way to the room at the end of the hall, passing the room where Jack speaks softly to his family, they hear the approaching choppers waking the night.

  55

  There’s a helipad at the rear of the Santa Rosa factory. The factory runs twenty-four hours. The Mi-17 lands and Orlando and his team get out with Wilbur Magnusson and walk with him to the factory. Tony and Chet stay with the chopper. The rotors are still, but they’re ready to take off as soon as everyone returns. Wilbur’s private jet is at an airstrip not far from the factory. They leave here, they go there, and then on to Bolivia. Tony and Chet will be staying behind. They’re not coming to Bolivia. Tonight is their final flight with the team.

  Orlando and the rest have their M4s still. Orlando questioned if it would spook the workers.

  “Take a lot more than some guns to scare them,” Wilbur said. “They won’t even bat an eye.”

  As they reach the entrance, Orlando signals to Corey and Harris to stay outside, on guard. He wants Stuart inside with him.

  The factory is alive with the sound of grinding, pounding machines. As they cross the work floor, flanking Wilbur, Orlando sees that he was right – no one so much as looks up as they pass through. As it’s late, the factory isn’t overflowing with staff. A few dozen at most. Not exactly a skeleton crew but certainly less than it’s capable of utilising.

  Wilbur leads them up a flight of stairs to the gangway and along the corridor to an office. His name is stencilled on the door. He pulls out a key to get inside. He goes straight to a filing cabinet in the corner.

  “Blueprints,” he says. “Everything is in print. I don’t run the risk of anyone hacking in and stealing my models. And with that in mind, we’ll take one of the Wolverines as proof of what it’s capable of. The rest we’ll destroy. We don’t want anyone else getting their hands on them.”

  “What are you gonna tell the workers out there?” Stuart says, nodding his head back toward the work floor.

  Wilbur shrugs. “I’m not going to tell them anything. They can find out that they’re jobless in due course. I’m sure it won’t take long.”

  Corey speaks to Orlando in his ear piece. “Sir, we’ve potentially got a situation.”

  Orlando frowns. “What is it?”

  “Two choppers have just landed in the distance – I’d say about two klicks away.”

  “You’re sure?”

  “They came in lights off, but we spotted them. Heard them, too. The fact they descended in darkness, and that they’ve landed so far away –”

  “It’s not a good sign,” Orlando says, working out where he was going. “Got it. Stay alert and keep me updated if anything else happens.” Orlando turns to Wilbur. Stuart has already heard. He tells Wilbur what’s happening.

  “And they’re coming here?” Wilbur says.

  “No sign yet, but where else are they gonna go?” Orlando says. “There’s nothing else around here for miles. The same people that turned up at Hanley’s mansion, this could be them again.”

  “I thought you killed them.”

  “Same organisation, different members.”

  “Whoever they are, seems like they’ve got funding behind them,” Stuart says. “And bodies. They turn up in Nevada, and now here?” He whistles through his teeth. “If they’ve turned up in two choppers, that means we’re outnumbered. We don’t know what kind of choppers they were, neither, so we have no idea what kind of bodies they were carrying. We need to get out of here right now. We need to go.”

  “They see us leave, they’re just going to follow again,” Orlando says. “All the way to the airstrip.”

  “They won’t have the fuel to follow to Bolivia.”

  “You think they’re going to follow at a safe distance?”

  “Now wait just a moment, gentlemen,” Wilbur says. “You’re concerned that there’s a team coming for us. That’s understandable. You don’t know who they are, nor who sent them. That concerns you.”

  “If I had to guess, I’d say they have something to do with Senator Fielder,” Orlando says. “There was a security detail at his vacation home. After everything we’ve been up to today, these people didn’t start coming after us until after we made contact with Fielder and killed those men.”

  “So he potentially has a security detail,” Wilbur says. “Do I look concerned?”

  Orlando has to admit that Wilbur does not.

  “Would you like to know why? Because whoever they are, and whoever sent them, if they’re coming after us, here, in my factory – well, that’s the biggest mistake they could have possibly made.” He grins. “I haven’t destroyed the Wolverines yet. You must have heard so much about them by now. Would you like to see what they’re capable of?”

  56

  Tom and Nina ride in the chopper with Lee Cobb and three of his men. The second chopper carries six more members of his team. Everyone is dressed in black tactical gear – vests and pads, night vision goggles – and armed with AR15 assault rifles and Sig Sauer P365 handguns, as well as a couple of M67 grenades. The grenades make Tom think of Harris and the way he’s been stroking the ones on the front of his vest every time he’s seen him. Tom keeps his own grenades far away from the front of his vest. Harris is clearly a psychopath. What he’s done today, with his Semtex, is more than enough proof of that.

  “We’re going down,” Lee speaks into the headset, the radio signal reaching the men in the second chopper, too. “Chopper one, my men with me, on point. Chopper two, bring up the rear. Rollins and Nina, the two of you in the centre. Today has proven that you’re both more than capable of handling yourselves, but I know my men and what they can do. If shit goes down, I need to know I can rely on the man to my right and the man to my left, not two unproven commodities.”

  “Roger that,” Tom says. He understands.

  The chopper descends. Through the open side door, Tom can see the factory in the distance. They know it runs twenty-four hours. They know there’ll be workers inside. Civilians. Three members of chopper two are tasked with getting them to safety, and then to secure the outside area. Tom and Nina are to assist them. The rest will be going after Orlando and Hanley, and potentially Wilbur Magnusson, too.

  The chopper lands. Lee is on his feet. “Let’s go, people. Move, move, move.”

  He hops out and the others follow him. Tom and Nina are last out. Lee’s team consists of ten men, including him. Twelve, including Tom and Nina. They get into position. They have a lot of ground to cover on foot. NVGs are activated. They start running.

  They cover the first klick, and then Tom hears a whirring sound cutting through the air. It’s above them. It’s slight at first, and then grows to a buzz. Others have heard the same thing. They look up.

  “Shit,” someone to Tom’s left says. “Drones! They know we’re here!”

  “They’re heading for the choppers!” Lee says. “Bring them down!”

  While they raise their rifles and start firing, attempting to down the drones before they can reach the choppers, Lee gets back on the radio. “Pilots, out! Incoming! Incoming!”

  The drones make contact. The two choppers erupt, lighting up the night. Tom turns off the NVG. The pilots don’t respond on the radio. They weren’t fast enough.

 

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