Collins laughed. “You got it, hot stuff.”
She shook her head and looked at Jericho. “And for the name, I was thinking… your old D.E.A.D. unit ain’t really all that, y’know? I don’t think they deserve such a cool acronym. Us three right here, we’ve got the top brass’ faith and blessing, and I for one don’t intend letting them down. It’s gonna be a rough few months — I think we all know that… so I ask of both of you that we Don’t… Ever… Accept… Defeat. Deal?”
Jericho smiled. “D.E.A.D…”
Collins raised his near-empty bottle. “The best D.E.A.D.! Fuckin’ A, Jules.”
They toasted each other and finished their drinks, knowing the hard work was just beginning, and realizing in that moment, there wasn’t anything the three of them couldn’t do as a team.
As a D.E.A.D. unit.
GRENADA, NICARAGUA
April 22nd, 2017
Baker was driving the Jeep, with Black next to him and LaSharde in the back. They had returned from Prague an hour or so ago, and were en route to their base.
The mood was low and tense. Not only had they been unsuccessful in their attempt to get the information from Daniel Vincent, but they had run into a team of GlobaTech operatives, who had already secured their target. And what made matters worse was that one of them was Jericho Stone.
They had traveled back mostly in silence. Black was staring out the window with a blank expression, unable to shake the memory of looking Jericho in the eye. He should be dead. He shot him in the head — how the hell had he survived?
Baker pressed a button on the remote in the vehicle, and the barrier guarding the base entrance slowly lifted. He drove through, checking his rearview to make sure it descended automatically behind them.
He drove over to the motor pool, next to the armory, and came to a stop. They all climbed out of the vehicle, walking around and standing next to the trunk.
“Damian, get rid of Santiago’s body, would you?” said Black, callously. “I need to make contact with Jones, find out what the fuck happened back there.”
Baker nodded, glancing over Black’s shoulder toward the armory, where Santiago was left. He frowned. “I don’t think I need to…” he said, gesturing with his head.
“What?” Black spun around, looking over and seeing nothing except a dried pool of blood on the ground. “Where the fuck is he?”
He ran over, hearing the others follow closely behind. There weren’t any visible tracks leading away from where the body used to be. He looked around frantically, but there was no sign of Santiago.
“Fuck!” he screamed in frustration, turning to address the others. “Baker, sweep the base, every goddamn inch of it — find him! Charlie, get on the systems, view the security feeds, find out who’s been here while we were away.”
“What are you gonna do?” she asked him.
He sighed. “Make the hardest phone call of my life.”
He took out his cell and paced begrudgingly away from them, punching in a number from memory. It was answered immediately.
“Jones, it’s me,” he said.
“I know!” replied Julius Jones, uncharacteristically flustered. “Where the fuck are you?”
“We’ve just arrived back in Grenada. Jones… Jericho was there. He was working with GlobaTech, and—”
“I know he was!” interrupted Jones. “I saw it on the goddamn news! It’s on every channel in the country! Please tell me you recovered the information Daniel Vincent had on him…”
Black sighed. “No, GlobaTech got to him before we could. We had to back off once the local authorities arrived. I didn’t want to risk the exposure.”
“Risk the expos—? Jesus Christ! You were already fucking exposed! I can’t begin to tell you how pissed both the director, and the president, are right now. My ass is in the firing line, and you better believe yours is too. You need to fix this!”
Black struggled to control his temper, knowing that alienating the one person still on his side would be a bad move. “With respect, Julius, what exactly do you want me to do?”
There was a heavy sigh on the line, followed by silence.
“The monitoring station in the region saw everything. You were sloppy, and you were loud. The way things are right now, especially for the agency, we can’t afford this kind of publicity.” He paused. “As of right now, the D.E.A.D. unit is no more. The three of you are to cleanse the Grenada base and move out. You’ll be contacted in due course. Until then, you drop off the grid and keep your heads down.”
Black was furious, and didn’t care to hide it. “You can’t do that! Just give us a chance to take out Jericho and get that intel back. We’ll—”
“Chris, let it go. These orders come directly from the Oval Office. Do you understand me? You’re done. Clear up and move out. I’ll be in touch.”
“Julius? Julius!” The line was dead. “Fuck!” He threw the cell across the courtyard, watching as it smashed on the ground in front of him. He strode back over to Baker, who had re-appeared from inside the barracks. “Anything?” he asked as he approached.
Baker shook his head. “Nothing.”
“Shit! There’s no way he’s still alive…”
“No offense, Chris, but you thought that about Jericho too…”
Black glared at him, but he knew it wasn’t the time to direct his anger at the only allies he had.
“Come on,” he said, walking over to the main building.
They entered the building and took a left, walking into the communications room where LaSharde was sitting in front of the computer with her head in her hands.
“Please tell me you have something…” said Black.
LaSharde sighed loudly, pressing a button to begin playback of the security feed. “Yeah, this…”
The three of them crowded round the monitor and watched a feed from approximately twelve hours ago. It was black and white, but hi-definition, so they could see it clearly.
Santiago was lying on the ground, which was stained all around him with his blood. Slowly, he started to twitch. Just his legs at first, then his right hand. After a few minutes, he managed to take his cell phone out, fumbling with it before placing it to his ear. He dragged himself to his feet, talking as he clutched his stomach wound, hunched over and staggering slowly toward the armory. He disappeared out of sight of the camera as he entered.
“What the fuck is he doing?” asked Baker, quietly. “And who is he talking to?”
No one answered; their eyes riveted to the screen.
Santiago reappeared ten minutes later, as another person ran into view across the courtyard. The unknown male moved to Santiago’s side, gently lifting his arm over his shoulder to support his weight.
“Hang on…” said LaSharde. She pressed a few buttons and switched over to a different camera feed from the same time. “Here… this is them leaving.”
They looked on as the two figures walked toward an unregistered sports car parked near the barrier. They couldn’t see the face of Santiago’s friend. He helped him into the passenger seat, and then climbed in behind the wheel and drove off in a hurry.
“Seriously, who the fuck was that?” asked Black, knowing there was no answer.
“The better question is,” replied LaSharde, “what was he doing in the armory for ten minutes?”
Baker and Black looked at each other, drawing the same conclusion at the same time. They turned in unison and sprinted out of the building, back over to the armory. They ran inside, frantically searching for something they both hoped they wouldn’t find.
But Baker found it.