The Janus Discord (ONC2024)

Chapter 12

Coughing, Devon attempted to clear his throat, breathing through the dusty burlap bag that covered his head. He strained to hear anything that might orient him, but there was nothing but silence. The meeting with Arctic had been a trap, and he had walked straight into it. The man's cover was solid, there was no doubt. Devon was sure that nobody from his group had any idea Arctic was the double inside the military security.

A door opened, and he tensed in the chair he was tied to, listening. Two people, three? He felt a hand grip the bag and pull it off, and Devon found himself looking at a tall, elegantly dressed woman. Beside her stood a flat-faced man with wide shoulders and a mug's expression. Behind him, he sensed another person but didn't turn to look.

"I won't waste our time, Mr. Reilly." The woman said. "Who do you work for?"

They knew his name. Arctic gave that up too. Devon masked his surprise. Arctic didn't know who he worked for, which gave him a small advantage.

"I'm waiting - but not for long." The woman ordered again.

"Military security."

Rebecca stepped away, nodding to the man with her. Devon braced himself for the blow that sent stars ricocheting though his head. Won't last through many of those.

"Again. Who do you work for?" Her voice was brittle.

He tongued his cheek, blinking. This only had one end, and being beaten to a pulp gained him nothing.

"Homeland." He lied.

"I think not."

The next blow came, and Devon felt the taste of blood and a tooth loosen.

"It's a subdivision of Homeland . . ." He spit blood onto the floor, and Rebecca hopped back, disgust twisting her face.

"Who operates this subdivision?"

"I only know a code name - Raven." He glanced at her face.

A harsh laugh came from behind him and Rebecca reached down, grabbing his chin, jerking it up as she spoke. "You take me for an idiot! I know what Raven means in your silly spy speak."

"That's the name I know. The only name." He pulled his head away, grinning as she stared at the blood on her hand.

"You will regret it deeply if I can't confirm that, Mr. Reilly." She turned and strode quickly from the room, leaving the man to replace the burlap bag.

He sat listening carefully, his jaw aching and the loose tooth a constant magnet for his tongue.

"I always figured you were from some other department, Devon."

The voice was familiar, and Devon knew immediately that his odds just decreased.

"While your little game is being confirmed - or, most likely not, Devon. We're going to continue asking questions; only wrong answers won't be a simple punch to the face. What do you say? Are you ready?"

The words were muffled by the bag, but the answer put an ugly scowl on Arthur's face. "Wrong answer, Devon. You're gonna look like a Jackson Pollock canvass before I'm done."

******

Arctic listened to Rebecca's questions, his own concern growing. "He could be telling the truth. Homeland has all kinds of black ops burrowing around." He told her about his own experience and the call from someone, much higher in rank, who demanded all his information on Zero.

"What should we do?"

"You'll have to sterilize your site. There's nothing I can do right now. I don't know who these people are."