A network of roads, a roundabout. Gunfire resounded behind him, filling the bus; the black choppers lifted away into the skies.
He sighed with relief.
“We survive,” he said. “To fight another day.”
Lauren interrupted. “The Swedes have pulled back too,” she said. “But I’m still getting a kind of ghosting on the signal. Something between DC, the field and me. It’s odd. Almost as if… as if…”
“What?” Drake asked.
“As if there’s another set of communications going on. Something else at play. Another…” she hesitated.
“Team?” Drake finished.
Hayden grumbled out loud. “That sounds ludicrous.”
“I know,” Lauren replied. “I really do, and I’m no expert. If only Karin were here, we’d have something better, I’m sure.”
“Can you catch any dialogue?” Hayden asked. “Even a little?”
Drake recalled the earlier mention of SEAL Team 7, heard only by Dahl and himself. It occurred to him again that all communications were being monitored.
“Can we shelve it for now?” he asked. “And find us the best way out of here?”
Lauren sounded relieved. “Sure, sure,” she said. “Give me a minute.”
CHAPTER NINETEEN
Hayden Jaye waited several hours until the team were safe, stuffed into a small satellite safe house in Taiwan, before leaving the cramped space to make a call.
Her objective: contacting Kimberly Crowe.
It took a while, but Hayden persevered. She found a quiet corner around the back of the house, crouched down, and waited, trying to keep her head from spinning. It was hard to find something permanent in her life, something to cling to, outside the team. SPEAR had become her life, her reason for living and, as a consequence of that, she simply had no personal bonds, nothing outside of work. She thought back through the whirlwind of adventures they’d shared — from the Odin thing and the Gates of Hell, all the way through Babylon and Pandora, the nuke that almost decimated New York City, her old break up with Ben Blake and her recent split from Mano Kinimaka. She was strong, too strong. She didn’t need to be that strong. The most recent incident with the Inca treasures in Peru had affected her both mentally and physically. Never before had she been so rocked to her core.
Now, she quietly reevaluated. Bridges may have been burned, and that had to be fine. But if she did want to change, if she wanted more in her life, she had to be damn sure before taking the plunge and risking hurting anyone ever again. Be that Mano, or anyone else.
I care. I really do. And next time, I need to be sure that I’m being true to what I ultimately want.
Out of life. Not out of work. The SPEAR team gelled and worked well, but nothing lasted forever. A time would come—
“Miss Jaye?” a robotic voice said. “I’m putting you through now.”
Hayden pulled it together. The next voice on the line belonged to the Secretary of Defense.
“What’s the problem, Agent Jaye?” Curt, quiet, detached. Crowe sounded on edge.
Hayden had taken the time to figure out how to phrase her main question. She’d decided to bury it in bullshit and see what Crowe picked up on.
“We’re out of China and have secured the second box. The team is checking it out now. Reports soon, no doubt. No casualties, though plenty of cuts and bruises. Not all of the opposing teams are hostile…” She let that hang for second, wondering if Crowe might bite, then went on: “Some countries are more aggressive than other. The French lost at least three. One Russian wounded. Could there be another, more covert team along? We’ve heard snatches of furtive American chatter, which proves nothing, of course. The Brits are on our side, at least they appear to be and Drake has some sway with them. We’re now in a safe house awaiting the think tank to figure out the location of the third Horseman.”
Now she stopped, and waited.
Crowe kept her reserve. “Anything else?”
“I don’t believe so.” Hayden felt disappointment as her efforts came to nothing. She wondered if she should be more direct.
“I am in constant contact with the DC people,” Crowe said. “It isn’t necessary to keep me informed.”
“Ah, okay. Thank you.”
Hayden started to sign off. It was only then that Crowe sent a seemingly innocent word of enquiry down the line.
“Wait. You said you thought somebody might be impersonating Americans? Out in the field?”
Hayden hadn’t said anything of the sort. But from all that pertinent information Crowe had picked up on only one thing. She forced a laugh. “It appears so. We heard it on the ground.” She kept Lauren’s involvement out of it. “Of course, we know there’s no second team so maybe it’s one of the other countries using ex-US Spec-ops, or even mercenaries.”
“A fringe foreign government element using United States’ personnel?” Crowe hissed. “Could be, Agent Jaye. You may be right. Of course,” she laughed, “there’s no second team.”
Hayden listened to more than words. “And when we return? What do we return to?”
Crowe was silent, which told Hayden she knew exactly what was being asked. “One thing at a time,” she eventually said. “The Order’s so-called Horsemen must be found and neutralized first.”
“Of course.” Hayden also knew this was her last chance to talk directly with Crowe, so took it a little further. “And if we hear the American chatter again?”
“What am I — a field agent? Deal with it.”
Crowe killed the call, leaving Hayden to stare hard at the cellphone screen for several minutes, now not only reevaluating herself, but the intentions of her country too.
Drake took the chance to relax whilst Yorgi, Mai and Kinimaka dealt with the new box. The fact that it came from Genghis Kahn’s mausoleum and had lain among the legendary figure’s personal possessions only added to the reverence with which they handled it. The clear, repugnant symbol on the top proved that it once belonged to the Order of the Last Judgment.
Kinimaka studied the lock. “I’m sure the Order once had a plan to hand out keys,” he said. “But life got in the way.” He smiled.
“Death,” Mai said quietly. “Death got in the way.”
“Want me to finesse it open?” Yorgi asked.
“Yeah, let’s see some of those thiefy skills, Yogi.” Alicia spoke up, sitting with her back against a wall at Drake’s side, water bottle in one hand, pistol in the other.
“No point.” Kinimaka snapped the lock with a meaty paw. “It ain’t exactly art.”
Kenzie crawled over as Mai lifted the lid. It was an odd scenario, Drake thought, soldiers crammed into a tiny room with nowhere to sit and nowhere to communicate from, or make food. Just a mini-fridge packed full with water, and a few boxes of biscuits. The windows were draped, the door massively barred. The carpet was worn, threadbare, and smelled of mold but the soldiers had experienced worse. It was good enough to get some rest.
Hayden was let back in by Smyth, who guarded the door, entering just as Mai reached inside the box. Drake thought the boss looked worn and worried, on edge. Hopefully, later, she would elaborate on her conversation.
Mai shuffled around for a few seconds before pulling her hands out. She held a thick wad of papers covered by a thick binder and secured by a knotty length of twine, which made some members of the team raise their eyebrows.
“Really?” Kinimaka sat back on his haunches. “This is a weapon that could endanger the world?”
“The written word,” Kenzie said, “can be pretty powerful.”
“What is it?” Lauren asked. “We have all the DC guys waiting.”