Smyth snarled, “And get a fuckload of vengeance.”
CHAPTER THIRTY NINE
Lauren Fox sat listening as the SPEAR team made plans to go after Dmitry Kovalenko. Her head spun. Ever since she’d been attacked in her New York apartment, impressed Jonathan Gates, and then accepted a role in the team, her life had been anything but regular. Not that she led the most ordinary of lives anyway. But hell, she thought, There’s gotta be a limit.
Lauren was streetwise, quick-witted and, when necessary, somewhat of a smooth talker. But she was not polite. Maybe it was being dragged around foster homes all her childhood, maybe it was the New York vice, but Lauren could not bring herself to kiss ass.
Unless she was being paid two thousand an hour, of course. For that kind of money she’d pretty much kiss anything that presented itself.
Kiss ass or kick ass? She thought back to her time on the streets. It had always been the latter.
Now, with Jonathan gone and the future of the team uncertain, Lauren’s instinct was to bolt. She had the experience to look after herself. She had money saved in a Grand Central locker. The only reason she didn’t was because she knew Stone was an influential five-star general and thus held a lot of clout on the Hill. He would track her down when he had the time. SPEAR, or whatever element remained after today, was the kind of family that would have her back, no matter what. They would stand against the general and find a way to help her. The team that Gates had formed would be her salvation.
She had originally made contact with General Stone during the Babylon affair, prepared to use her wiles, but later been told to stand down by Gates. Almost past the point of no return, Stone had guessed something was off and had made stronger enquiries. That was until Kovalenko struck at the capital. Tomorrow, if Kovalenko vanished… who knew?
Now Lauren looked around. The team was about to split up. Yorgi the Russian, Sarah Moxley the Washington Post reporter and herself would be dropped off at the hospital where Hayden was being treated. The place was heavily guarded, totally secure, and if Kinimaka had allowed Hayden to be taken there then Lauren had no problem joining the wounded team leader. Plus, Kovalenko was on the run and so were his various cells. Maybe he had a plan for another day and maybe he didn’t.
Anyway, she thought. Life’s at its best when it’s unpredictable.
The team gathered together. To a person they looked disheveled, shell-shocked, even downtrodden, but sparks of life and hope still lived in their eyes. They would learn to live with their losses and come fighting back.
Literally.
Kinimaka took a moment. “Look,” he said to Yorgi, Moxley and her. “I know you three guys have stuff that needs sorting out. Stick with us, and we’ll get into it right after we fry Kovalenko’s ass. Please, just give us a few days.”
Yorgi nodded vigorously. “I really have nowhere else to go. I’m good.”
Sarah just nodded absently. Lauren untied then retied her dark hair. “Only Gates knew how to help me.” She said. “It’s… very sensitive.”
Smyth looked up from his phone, thumbs suddenly still. Lauren wondered who he was texting in these significant moments. “Sensitive, huh? Can I help with some ointment?”
“Do I even know you?”
“I guess not. But there’s always tomorrow.”
Lauren looked away. “Not for some.”
Smyth looked down. Before the mood sobered any further, Kinimaka pointed to the door. “Let’s move out.”
Lauren followed Karin and Komodo, keeping her thoughts to herself. The morning light hit her like a balm, the chill wind like a cold shower. People were moving around outside. Civilization, it seemed, had returned to the world after taking the night off.
News reports blared from open windows. Entire families sat around listening. Lauren could see them as Komodo drove them down the block. Newsstands were open, papers racked up out front with glaring headlines designed to sell thousands of copies. The brave few who wandered the streets did so with sad, subdued faces.
The nation was in mourning.
Komodo drove ten city blocks and pulled up to the hospital entrance. They were challenged almost instantly and made to show their IDs. Kinimaka called about Hayden’s progress and received the same unhelpful answer.
She’s in surgery right now. No change.
Lauren exited the car without saying goodbye, not sure what to say, and stood and watched as Komodo drove Karin, Kinimaka and Smyth away.
Yorgi, at her side, voiced her exact feelings. “I wonder if we’ll ever see them all together again.”
CHAPTER FORTY
President Coburn and the Secret Service had made the decision not to relocate immediately to the White House or any secure bunker, but to safely address a select few decision makers whilst Kovalenko was still thought to be actively on the run.
So, although Kinimaka was now the acting head of SPEAR, and Drake was and always would be a gnarly Yorkshireman, it was still the ex-SAS soldier who was invited into the hastily assembled inner circle. Even Drake was surprised, but mitigating factors included the rationales of speed and Kinimaka’s absence and the fact that Drake had been part of the team which helped saved Coburn’s life — even fighting alongside him.
A government building on 23rd Street was taken over, swept, secured and prepped in under an hour. All lingering students were quickly relocated. Policy dictated that the President should not stay in the area, but all the military men and minds present applauded the decision whilst the dyed-in-the-wool politicians dithered and moaned.
As Coburn had said, “We now have need of a military leader, not a political figure. Only the future can truly judge my next actions, but I believe they should be powerful, swift and severe.”
Drake waited amid a knot of executives, the majority present purely because they were there, on site and in charge at a moment of crisis. When the Secret Service ushered them into a windowless holding room one by one, Drake fell into line. He took a seat and watched while the meeting was hastily called to order.
“My friends, I don’t have long,” Coburn began, walking to the front of the room. “We have the White House, the VP, and other leaders on teleconference call, and we have you. The terrorist Dmitry Kovalenko and his men are on the run, and I have to make a public address within the hour. I need options, gentlemen. What have you got?”
Drake kept an eye on his phone. Kinimaka would text when he arrived, indicating that Drake could present his proposal with the full backup and commitment of his team.
Reports came in thick and fast. The NSA were monitoring all signals and reporting that overall chatter was quiet. The CIA stated that all of its foreign assets were on full alert, but had so far learned nothing. At domestic level, the FBI had alerted every one of its agents and was out in force. Other agencies and forces gave more details, but actual suggestions remained thin on the ground.
The Chiefs of Staff soon stepped in through the teleconference call, all speaking at once. The FAA and NORAD took the opportunity and attested to the safety of the skies. The first person who actually stood up to be counted was the DC Chief of Police, who stated that although every available officer was being utilized in the search for Kovalenko and in scrutinizing the Metro stations and other egress points from the tunnels, it should be assumed that their quarry had already escaped by means of a carefully pre-planned route. Hundreds of thousands of square feet of abandoned tunnels ran beneath the city at varying points and, although some were monitored, it also had to be said that some were not.