The Janus Discord (ONC2024)

Chapter 14

The hotel was a four storey, unassuming brick edifice with architectural touches reminiscent of the twenties. Double hung windows and an outside, spindly looking fire escape. They were briefed in a van several blocks away, wished good luck, and left to make their plans.

"Your department is very specialized isn't it?" Wylie commented.

"A lot of it. The streetwalkers only follow and watch. Period. Cuts down on a lot of opinions and excessive reporting."

"But not you. Not your level."

"What is it, Wylie? You have a question, ask it."

"Is this a wet work directive?"

He looked down for a moment, then back up, capturing her eyes. "No. I swear to you, it is not. SR wants Stroud for information. He's no good dead."

She waited a beat, then nodded. "Okay. I just had to know. I've never done that, and I didn't- wasn't--"

"I get it." He put his arm about her shoulder and squeezed. "We want him alive, Wylie. I can't promise there won't be resistance, but as I said, he's useless to us dead."

She nodded again and sucked in a deep breath. "So, Level Three, what's the plan?"

******

Marshal pulled all the contents out of his safe and sorted through the material he needed, and then shredded the rest. Recent events had thrown up flags all over, and he sensed a net closing around him. News accounts of politicians and a few underworld notables being taken into custody, told him Zero was coming apart. His military career might be over, but he wasn't about to face any espionage charges or court-martials.

He checked through every drawer, cabinet and shelf in his office, assuring himself there was nothing that could connect him to Zero. The remote drive was plugged into his computer and he set the command to shred. The screen read one hour and twenty-nine minutes, and he cursed silently at the delay.

Marshal checked his calendar, looked at his watch. made a decision, and left his locked office. He took a taxi to a generic location and used his burner phone to make a call.

******

Stroud opened the room door and stepped back as Rebecca pushed in. Arthur turned from the TV and threw up his arms. "What's she doing here? What are you doing here?" He started for her then turned back to the window, swearing and nervously scanning the street.

"Calm down, Tate." Stroud closed the door and stood next to Rebecca. "What are you doing here? How did you find us?"

"I received a text from Arctic." She frowned. "Things are coming apart, and he told me to make contact with you." She removed her coat and sat in a chair by the bed.

"With me, what for?"

"The text read, arrangements to follow."

Arthur swore, turning from the window. "That's bullshit! Things are coming apart alright, and Arctic is covering his own ass. He's got us all together here in one basket for easy picking."

"What are you talking about? How would that protect him if we were all caught?"

"What the hell do you think arrangements to follow means?"

"What's he talking about, Lyle?" Rebecca's voice faltered.

"About Arctic not just selling us out, but eliminating us, Rebecca." He strode to the window, searching the street. "We may still have time, but we have to move now."

Arthur grabbed his jacket and did a quick check to make sure nothing would be left behind. Stroud checked his weapon, slamming the clip in and chambering a round.

"Let's move!"

"Wait, wait! This is ridiculous. Arctic wouldn't--"

"Oh yes he would, lady. Now move your ass or stay here and find out." Arthur opened the door, scanned the hallway and nodded to Lyle.

"Move, Rebecca."

"But--"

"Now." Lyle grabbed her arm and shoved her into the hallway.

******

Matt stopped at the hotel entrance, an arm on Sheridan's shoulder. "We'll concentrate on the rooms facing the street first, and we'll start with the second floor. The ground floor is not a first choice. Too many access points. You take the second, I'll take the fourth. If you locate him, don't make contact with the subject until we're together, okay?"

"Got it."

They entered the hotel, split up, and began their search. Matt took the elevator to the third floor while Sheridan took the stairs. The elevator doors opened and as Matt stepped out, he just caught sight of the group heading for the stair exit.

Sheridan moved cautiously down the hall, pausing at each door and listening intently. At the exit doorway to the stairs, she heard the thumping of footsteps, and before she could react, the door opened and Arthur's head peered out.

"Shit!" The expletive echoed up the stairwell, and Matt began descending the stairs three and four at a time. "It's that bitch from the safe house," Arthur snarled, pushing the door closed.

"Someone's behind us too. Down to the main floor quick" Lyle shoved Rebecca ahead.

"Hold it Stroud! It's over." Matt caught sight of them heading down another level.

Sheridan burst through the door, in between Matt and the subjects. Arthur turned and fired, his shot ricocheting off the wall.

"Wylie!" Matt jumped down the last few stairs and knelt beside her. Blood was soaking through the side of her shirt. "Wylie!"

"Go, before they get away," she gasped, jamming her hand against the wound.

Wasting time arguing was just that, a waste of time, and he bolted down the stairs after the fleeing trio, praying Wylie was okay.

In the lobby, Rebecca had stumbled and Lyle was trying to drag her to her feet, blocking Arthur's path. There was shouting and swearing and when Matt came out of the stairway, he faced another round of shots. He threw himself behind a lobby chair, popping up quickly and firing several rounds. The cry told him he'd hit someone, and when he looked again, Rebecca was kneeling beside a man on the floor - the other man had gone.

******

"Get her somewhere she can stay off her feet and give her one of these every four hours, if she needs them." The medic packed his bag and left with the security team that had arrived to take custody of the prisoners. Lyle was nursing a wound to his leg, and Rebecca, one to her pride.

"Tate got away, but then we didn't expect him to be here anyway. The street walkers never saw him or Rebecca. Not that they would have anyway. Lyle was the target."

"But we got the one we were supposed to, right?"

"Yep, not how my masters wanted it though. I'll get a dressing down for bringing it all to the attention of the press."

"Will it be serious?"

"Who knows. Right now, my concern is you. You are supposed to rest. Think the safe house will be okay?"

"I'm fine I don't need--"

"Safe house it is."

16,168 WP word count to this point