14. The Council #2
Westbrook raises his voice over everyone.
“Enough.”
It takes several seconds for the room to settle.
Mikhail Rimsky speaks from across the table.
“The money can be replaced. The greater problem is that the women are talking.”
Gerald looks toward him. “Some have entered protective custody.”
“Then protection should fail.”
Westbrook’s attention returns to Gerald.
“And after all of this, you still can’t tell me who they are?”
“We’ve identified several groups and recurring individuals.”
“That wasn’t my question. Who employs them?”
“We don’t know.”
“Who finances them?”
“We don’t know.”
Steve mutters, “Bloody hell.”
Westbrook pushes back from the table, his chair scraping hard across the floor.
He takes a step toward Gerald, flecks of spit catching at the corner of his mouth.
“What do you know?”
Gerald closes the folder.
“We know they’re coordinated. They share intelligence and resources. Several of the same people have appeared across otherwise unrelated operations.”
“And you’ve done what about it?”
Gerald’s jaw tightens.
“We’ve increased surveillance, replaced compromised personnel, rerouted financial channels and initiated identification protocols wherever possible.”
“Wherever possible.”
Gerald doesn’t answer.
Westbrook takes another step toward him.
“Tell me, what are we paying you for, Gerald?” he asks quietly.
“To protect the Council’s interests.”
A vein stands out at Westbrook’s temple.
“You call this protection?”
Gerald holds his ground.
“I call it an adversary we underestimated.”
Westbrook reaches inside his jacket.
His hand comes back gripping a pistol.
Gerald’s eyes widen.
Westbrook brings the weapon up in one sharp movement.
The gunshot cracks through Victor’s microphone.
Gerald jerks backward.
The folder drops from his hand.
Paper explodes across the floor.
For half a second, my brain refuses to understand what I’m seeing.
Then Gerald collapses beside the table.
“Jesus Christ,” Steve says.
Nobody in the bunker moves.
Westbrook stands over him with the pistol still in his hand, breathing hard.
Gerald Whitmore doesn’t move again.
Blackstone Ventures HQ, San Francisco. 0915 hours.
Blood pools around Gerald’s body.
Evelyn Lockhart breaks the silence.
“Did you have to kill him?”
Westbrook turns toward her.
“He was incompetent.”
Mikhail Rimsky looks down at Gerald from his wheelchair.
“Good shot.”
Evelyn looks at him in disgust.
He gives the body another disinterested glance. “He deserved it. Incompetence at this level is expensive.”
“He was also useful,” she retorts.
Mikhail shrugs with his unaffected shoulder. “Then find someone useful who isn’t incompetent.”
Rothman pushes his chair back. “We’re finished here for now.”
Voices rise immediately. Beaumont stands. Al-Rashid says something sharp to Westbrook that Victor’s microphone doesn’t catch. One security man approaches Gerald while another quietly takes the pistol from Westbrook.
Rothman looks toward Adrian.
“We’ll be in touch, Lord Rotherham.”
Adrian inclines his head, staying silent.
“We’ll reconvene after lunch once this has been cleaned up.”
Cleaned up.
Like Gerald spilled his coffee.
People begin moving toward the doors.
Adrian waits until Victor falls into step beside him.
“Get me the hell out of here.”
Steve reaches for the comms.
“Bear, move. Secondary exit.”
“On our way.”
I bring G’s schematic onto the main screen. Victor and Adrian let the others move ahead, then slip toward the service passage G identified last night.
They’re barely inside when a voice comes from behind them.
“Lord Rotherham.”
Adrian stops.
Alexei Rimsky stands at the entrance.
“You have what you came for.”
Adrian gives him nothing. “I’m not entirely certain what you believe I came for.”
Alexei reaches into his pocket and produces a small card.
“What is that?” Adrian asks.
“A way to reach me.”
“And why would I want to do that?”
Alexei looks directly at Victor.
“Because today was only an introduction.”
He holds out the card.
“This Council survives because its members believe loyalty can be purchased indefinitely. They’re wrong.”
Adrian takes it.
Alexei’s gaze drops briefly to the card.
“There’s an embedded chip. Your people will know what to do with it.”
“And I’m supposed to trust you?”
“No. Trust would be foolish.”
Alexei steps back.
“When you need me, use the number once. Extract the data, then destroy the card.”
“And if we don’t need you?”
“You will.”
He walks away.
Adrian looks at Victor.
“Now get me the hell out of here.”
Steve points at the screen. “G, guide them. Bear?”
“Twelve minutes out.”
I glance at Steve. “Lucky we kept him close.”
“Very.”
Victor and Adrian disappear deeper into the corridor.
G studies the old construction plans. “Keep going. You’re looking for a utility recess on the left, about thirty yards ahead.”
Victor’s glasses carry us along the narrow concrete passage until Adrian spots it.
“There.”
“That’s it,” G says.
“The original plans show a doorway there. Later renovations hid it behind a false cabinet front that opens over the old passage.”
Victor runs his hand along the edge.
“There’s no handle.”
“Release should be inside the right side of the frame.”
Adrian reaches into the narrow gap and feels along it. A click comes through Victor’s microphone.
The entire panel shifts.
Steve leans closer. “Well, I’ll be damned.”
Victor and Adrian pull it open far enough to slip through, revealing a dark passage beyond. The concealed door closes behind them.
I breathe a little easier. Anyone coming down that corridor will see an electrical cabinet, not an escape route.
G enlarges the schematic.
“Passage runs east for about two hundred yards, then bends north. Another hundred and fifty to the shaft.”
That makes far more sense.
A forgotten exit shouldn’t be sitting twenty yards from a room full of people who’ve been using this bunker for years.
Victor starts forward while G follows his progress against the plans.
After several minutes, he speaks again.
“Twenty yards ahead. Right at the bend, then you should hit the shaft.”
Victor’s glasses catch rough concrete, old conduit and pipes before the passage ends.
He looks up.
A vertical shaft rises above them, a fixed metal ladder disappearing into darkness.
Adrian stares at it.
“You have got to be kidding me.”
Victor glances at him. “Thought you wanted the hell out of here.”
“I was hoping for a door.”
Steve laughs beside me.
A scrape comes through Victor’s microphone.
Then daylight cuts across the top of the shaft.
Bear’s voice follows.
“Victor?”
“About bloody time.”
The hatch swings fully open. Bear looks down.
“I’m dropping a rope.”
A coil falls through the shaft. Victor catches it and looks at Adrian.
“You first.”
Adrian eyes the distance above him. “Wonderful.”
Victor secures the rope around him.
“Bear, take the strain.”
“Got him.”
The rope tightens.
Adrian grips the ladder and starts climbing while Bear and the others haul from above, taking most of his weight.
Victor starts up directly beneath him.
Adrian glances down. “What are you doing?”
“Getting out.”
“I’m perfectly capable of climbing a ladder.”
Victor looks up at him.
“Come on, you big pussy. Keep moving.”
Adrian mutters something Victor’s microphone doesn’t quite catch and climbs faster.
“Steve, get G to wipe those Beacons remotely please,” Victor says as he climbs.
“Copy,” he says.
“On it,” G confirms.
They climb together until hands appear through the hatch. Bear grabs Adrian’s arm and hauls him over the edge.
“Got him.”
Victor follows. A few seconds later Bear grips his forearm and pulls him into the bitter daylight.
Bear’s face fills the feed.
“Nice glasses.”
He pulls the hatch closed behind them.
“Everyone clear.”
Steve keys the comms.
“Get them moving.”
Bear grins at Victor. “With pleasure.”
The operations room erupts.
Crew starts clapping. Rafael punches the air. On-screen, G throws both hands up while Felicity applauds beside him.
Steve pushes back from his desk with a grin.
“Well, people, I’d say that was a successful meeting.”
Laughter rolls through HQ.
I look at the screens.
Twelve families.
Officials, companies, shell corporations and operational fronts spanning twelve countries.
A hidden Council bunker.
A back-channel into Legacy communications.
Alexei Rimsky offering us a way back in.
And sixty to seventy-five million dollars in direct losses.
I smile.
“Hearing it all laid out like that was very satisfying.”
Steve turns toward me. “Very?”
“Extremely.”
“That’s better.”
I look around at everyone here and on-screen.
“Great job, people. This is definitely something to celebrate.”
Another cheer goes up.
G raises his coffee mug. “I vote expensive champagne.”
“You’re not having champagne before lunch,” Felicity tells him.
“Why not?”
Steve points toward G’s window. “Little elf’s got a point.”
Felicity covers her face.
I laugh.
We haven’t brought Legacy down.
Not even close.
But today we know who sits at the top.
And they still have no idea who we are.