Imminent Threat Page 7

  Flynn danced out of the way of the oncoming behemoth, unholstering his gun and shooting him twice in the back before the man fell headlong into the water.

  And then there were two.

  Flynn eyed the remaining assailants—a familiar-looking woman driving the boat and another man in the back of the boat. He’d never seen the man before, who acted cagey. Flynn decided to take care of him first as the woman didn’t seem interested in engaging in a fight just yet.

  For a second, Flynn looked toward Banks to see where she was. That was all the time the man in the back of the boat needed to gain the upper hand, using an oar to smack Flynn’s arm and knock the gun out of his hand. The gun splashed into the water while Flynn tried to regain his edge. He rushed toward the man, who went low and almost flipped Flynn out of the boat. Flynn slid down the back and nearly into the water. Clinging to the inside, he clawed his way back in as the man bashed his fingers with the oar.

  Flynn took another pass at the man again, this time grabbing him as he went by and pulling him to the ground. Then the man pulled a knife out of his sock and tried to stab Flynn.

  As this was happening, the woman trained her gun on Flynn. She went to pull the trigger when the boat lurched to the side. She looked up to see Banks driving her boat hard into hers. And it was enough of a distraction to help Flynn gain control of the knife and stab the man. He shoved the man’s body out of the way and walked toward the woman.

  “Svetlana?” Flynn said.

  “James?” she answered.

  “It doesn’t have to end like this,” Flynn said.

  “True. You can jump in the water now so I don’t have to kill you in front of your lady friend over there.” Svetlana waved at Banks and continued down the river at top speed.

  “That’s not what I mean,” he said.

  “Of course it isn’t, but those are your options at this point. Let me go and live or try to capture me and die. One of those things is going to happen.”

  “I beg to differ,” he said.

  “Of course you beg—like you did that night in Prague.”

  “If things were different—”

  “But they’re not.”

  “Why are you stealing Plutonium-238? Who hired you? What is it for?”

  “I don’t want to kill you, James.”

  “I’m not going to ask again.”

  “Good,” she said with a laugh. “This is getting old fast. Can’t we just move on to the place where you jump in the water and I speed away and you tell the American government that I outsmarted you—or will your ego not let you do that? I always told you that your ego would be the death of you.”

  “Not today it won’t.” He grabbed the wheel and yanked it hard right, forcing the boat into a spin.

  Svetlana reached underneath the wheel and pulled out a gun. Before she could get a shot off, Flynn ripped it from her hand and put a knife to her throat as he steadied the boat and powered down the throttle. The boat rocked in its own wake as he pressed the knife closer to her throat.

  “You know I will never betray my country,” she said.

  “I’m not so sure this is about your country, is it?”

  She said nothing and swallowed hard.

  “Who hired you, Svetlana?”

  Nothing.

  “Tell me now!”

  She reached for his knife and rammed it into her own throat.

  “Svetlana! What have you done?”

  Gasping for air and coughing up blood, she looked up at him and grinned. In a whisper, she said again, “I’ll never betray my country.”

  Her body went limp.

  Flynn began pillaging the boat, looking for the Plutonium-238 canister. He searched through the pockets of the dead man at the back of the boat and found one interesting item. After a few minutes of searching, he looked up to see Banks edging her boat closer to them.

  “Is everything under control now?” she asked.

  He shook his head. “They’re all dead—and no one would say anything.”

  Banks looked at Lang. “We need to get Lang to a doctor quick. He’s not doing so well and he might bleed out if we don’t hurry.”

  “Go on without me,” Flynn said. “I’ll deal with this mess and see if I can find the Plutonium.”

  “You don’t see it?”

  “No. And I don’t think it’s here either. Perhaps they hid it somewhere else in the boat, but we’ll need to get a team out here to verify it one way or another.”

  “Where is it then?”

  Flynn held up a few short metal pieces. “Do you know what these are?”

  She shook her head.

  “Bolt seals for shipping containers.”

  “You think they hid it at the port in a container?”

  “That’s my working theory, but I don’t want to give up on this boat yet.”

  Banks nodded. “Okay, let me get him some medical attention and I’ll be back soon.” She let out a long breath and revved up the boat’s engine. She looked back at Lang. “Hold on tight, partner. We’re going to get you some help.”

  As she was turning around to look toward the front of the boat, Lang’s chest exploded.

  “What the —”

  Flynn tackled her into the water. When they came up for air, their heads barely bobbed above the surface. Hidden from plain sight between the two boats, she stared at him, her brow furrowed.

  “What just happened?” she asked.

  “Someone’s trying to kill us.”

  “I thought we already neutralized the three assailants who escaped from INL.”

  Flynn smiled. “We did.” He paused. “Apparently they’re not the only ones who want us dead.”

  “Who even knew we were out here?”

  Flynn shook his head. “The number of people who know about our mission is probably far more than you imagined. But the number of people who could actually locate us? That’s a much smaller number. Someone doesn’t want us to find that Plutonium-238.”

  “Or find out who’s behind it,” she added.

  “Unfortunately for whoever that person is, we’re going to solve both of those burning questions.”

  She nodded resolutely. “Let’s do this.”

  “How good of a swimmer are you?”

  “First in my class at Quanaco.”

  “Stay underwater until we reach the opposite bank. There’s a cove we can duck into there and we can go and get some help. But don’t come up under any circumstances until we’ve reached the other side. Whoever shot Lang is still out there, and I guarantee you he’s waiting for us. So, let’s go. We don’t have much time.”

  Flynn and Banks dove down into the cold river water and swam furiously, struggling against the current. It took them about three minutes to reach the other side and disappear into the forest.

  They both turned to look back at the boats when an explosion sent shockwaves along the water and the vessels splintered across the river.

  Flynn tugged on Banks’ arm. “Come on. We don’t have much time.”

  ***

  KYLE KRAMER WHISTLED WHILE HE packed up his weapons. He paused and smiled as he looked out at the boat still in flames, shrapnel littering the river. After taking another brief moment to admire his work, he finished packing and called his employer.

  “It’s all taken care of,” Kramer said.

  “Are you sure?”

  “Unless they could survive a missile launcher that obliterated their boat from two hundred yards away, I’m sure.”

  “Good to know you were being discreet.”

  “No one was around.”

  “They soon will be.”

  “That’s why I’m packed up and about to disappear.”

  “Okay. Good work. I’ll be in touch when we need you again. The funds should deposit in your account within the hour.”

  “One more thing,” Kramer said.

  “What’s that?”

  “There were three people in the boat, not two. I took care of all t
hem, but they had some help.”

  “Interesting. Thanks for letting me know.”

  “Thank you for your business.” Kramer hung up and collected the last of his belongings. He stood up and took one final look at the havoc he wreaked—and the scene of his latest victims.

  He closed his eyes, took in a deep breath, and grinned.

  I love the smell of pine trees and the warm sun on my face.

  Then he opened his eyes, horrified at what he saw—his two victims scurrying up the riverbank and disappearing into the woods.

  His work wasn’t finished yet.

  CHAPTER 17

  SENATOR THOR SAT ON one end of a bench in the national mall, admiring the early Tuesday morning reflection in the water. It appeared so calm on the surface, much like him—though he doubted the water below was churning half as fiercely as his stomach was. He’d become deft at remaining cool and collected in certain situations. His passion drove him, but it could also become a liability if he didn’t control it.

  At half past eight, a man settled onto the opposite end of Thor’s bench. The protocol for such meetings remained awkward, yet Thor preferred it to secretive meetings behind closed doors. He reasoned that a public appearance always reduced the opportunity for someone to accuse him of darker deeds. However, he was certain someone would consider what he was doing to be on the shadier side of political activities. But he convinced himself that as long as his conscience was clear, it didn’t matter what others thought. Besides, what he was doing was for the good of the country.

  “Did you do what I asked?” Thor said, barely opening his mouth.

  The man opened up a magazine and pretended to read as he flipped the pages. “Mmm, hmmm.”

  “Did you find anything?”

  “Nothing of consequence yet.”

  “Keep trying—and keep me posted. This thing is starting to get out of hand.”

  “Would you like for us to move into phase two of the operation?”

  “Not yet. We still have quite a bit of work to do before we can go there.”

  “The General is getting antsy.”

  “Just tell him to relax and that everything is being handled. We’ll have some answers soon.”

  The man flipped some more pages and kept his head down as he talked. “Good. I’m not sure how much longer he can hold it in.”

  “You must not let him talk. Once he does, the entire operation is blown and we’ll all be exposed.”

  “I can assure you that won’t happen.”

  “I appreciate your assurances, but they mean nothing. I’ve learned that if someone is determined enough to talk, they will—and there’s nothing you can do about it.”

  The man rubbed his forehead with his right hand before flipping some more pages. “I’ve always found cutting someone’s tongue out is a very effective way to keep them silent.”

  “Look, I don’t want any of that kind of behavior. Let’s use persuasive means that don’t include threats, intimidation, or mutilation.”

  “I guess I can’t make any guarantees then.”

  Thor took a deep breath. “I’m okay with that as long as you stay on top of things. We’re going to be ready to move to phase two very soon, but we need the General on board if that’s going to happen. Otherwise, everything becomes too risky.”

  Silence lingered for a few minutes before Thor spoke again.

  “I have another meeting later this week, if not sooner. I should know more by then.”

  The man closed his magazine, slid it into his briefcase and stood up to leave. “Have a good day, sir.” He nodded and tipped his bowler cap.

  Thor clasped his hands together as he leaned forward and stared back at the water again. He felt his stomach churning. They were almost there—as long as everyone could hold it together.

  CHAPTER 18

  DR. MELISSA WATSON RUBBED her eyes and sighed. The numbers on the printout in front of her delivered more bad news. Nothing was working. She’d tried numerous approaches to coming up with an antidote that worked, but none of them seemed to have any effect on the infected monkeys. She even considered forgoing the trial on the monkeys and testing one of the sample antidotes on Dr. Mosley—the one she figured to have the best chance of clearing the virus. But she couldn’t bring herself to do it.

  What if something happened to him? She’d never forgive herself if she expedited his death when she had a chance to save him. But time was vanishing more quickly than her ideas.

  She took a break and peered at him in the quarantine chamber.

  “How are you holding up?” she asked through the speaker.

  He forced a smile. “I’m still alive.”

  “I hope to keep you that way.”

  “Well, can you hurry it up? My cellmate here is struggling.”

  Watson watched one of the monkeys on the floor. The primate was in a lethargic state, grunting and moaning.

  Mosley shook his head. “I don’t want to suffer like he is.”

  She took a deep breath. “Just hang in there. I think I might have an idea.”

  Watson rushed back to her workstation and worked busily for the next half hour. Observing the monkey on the floor gave her an idea. It wasn’t much of one, but it was better than banging her head against the wall.

  The phone near her workstation buzzed. She ignored it, continuing to create a sample antidote and carefully recording all her steps. The phone buzzed again, this time using the intercom system.

  “Stop ignoring me,” Dr. Franklin said. “I know you’re down there, Dr. Watson. If you had saved Dr. Mosley by now, you would’ve both surely been in my office. But as it stands, all I can assume is that you’ve done nothing but fail.”

  “I’m still working, sir. When I know something, you’ll know something.” She slapped the button on the phone to end the call and muttered to herself. “I swear, once this is over, I’m putting together my resume and getting out of here.”

  After a few more minutes, Watson was satisfied with her antidote. She smiled as she swirled it around in a test tube. “Make me proud,” she said.

  She drew some of the liquid into a syringe and suited up in her hazmat suit. Once she went through the entry chamber, she entered the quarantine room.

  Mosley stood up and rushed toward her. “Do you have something?”

  “I think so. But I wanted to try it out on this monkey first. I’ve got enough for both of you if this works.”

  He put his arm on hers. She looked at him and smiled.

  “Don’t worry,” she said. “I’m going to save you.”

  Watson plunged the needle into the monkey’s arm and emptied the contents into his body—and waited.

  In the initial moments after the antidote was administered, the monkey lay motionless on the floor. But after a few seconds, he began to writhe around. He screamed and screeched, flailing his arms and kicking his legs. Then the primate became aggressive. He lunged toward Mosley and jumped onto his back, beating him with both his fists. Mosley flung the monkey to the ground and backed away. But the monkey stood up and resumed his assault, racing back toward him and latching onto his leg. With his teeth showing, the monkey hissed at him before attempting to bite him. Mosley beat the monkey in the head with his fist, but it didn’t prevent the monkey from taking a bite out of his upper thigh. Mosley screamed and fell to the floor. The monkey climbed on top of him, dancing on his chest.

  Watson watched terrified. She wanted to help, but she didn’t want to attract attention to herself. If the monkey could overpower and knock down Mosley, what could it do to her? She wasn’t interested in answering that question.

  The monkey began pounding on Mosley’s chest with his fists until he stopped almost as soon as he started. His arms dropped to his side before he rolled over and fell onto the floor. Dazed, Mosley scooted away from the animal.

  Watson’s breathing turned shallow as she reached to check the monkey’s pulse. She needed to know if the antidote worked or not—and if her test
subject was still alive. She tried to get a pulse. Nothing.

  “He’s dead,” she said, looking in Mosley’s direction—but he wasn’t there.

  Where’d he go?

  She stood up and spun around in time to see Mosley flying toward her with a syringe.

  “What are you doing?” she asked, fighting him off.

  He didn’t answer until he worked off part of her hazmat helmet and sunk the needle into her neck. “Properly motivating you.”

  Her mouth dropped as she glared at him. “What did you do?”

  “Now, maybe you’ll work a little harder since your life depends on it.”

  Watson staggered out of the quarantine unit and locked the door behind her.

  “There’s no use keeping me in here,” he yelled. “You’re the one contaminating the rest of the lab now.”

  She turned and shot him a nasty look before proceeding with the decontamination process in the entry chamber. She took off her suit and proceeded into her office.

  She didn’t know what was worse—Mosley’s betrayal or the fact that she now carried a virus that would kill her soon enough. Yet she couldn’t separate the two. They were intertwined, both causing her great distress when she needed to be as clear-minded and focused as she’d ever been.

  Watson looked at her watch: 10 A.M. She set a countdown on her phone for twenty-four hours. If she didn’t find a antidote, it was all the time in the world she had left.

  CHAPTER 19

  WHEN THEIR PLANE TOUCHED DOWN at Washington National just after four o’clock, Flynn and Banks rushed to the parking lot to get Banks’ car and try to beat the rush-hour traffic. It was a lesson in futility. They had a better chance of capturing every single member of Al-Qaeda than they did of escaping the clutches of the Beltway.

  During their commute to Langley to debrief with Osborne, Flynn suggested Banks check in with her superiors.

  “If anything, find out if there’s been any update while we were in the air,” he said.

  “Fine. I’m sorry if I’m a little jumpy right now. It’s just that someone had to tell that sniper that we were there. And there’s no way he was part of that team.”