21
“Ask not what your country can do for you,” Benson said when Jack stormed into the crowded war-room and squared off with the grinning coyote who appeared to have progressed from insane to suicidal. He raised his silver-topped head and peaked an eyebrow. “Who came up with that quote? Was it me?”
Dead silence was the only response from the Darkwater crew. Nancy was ashen-faced in her seat. Paige was staring a hole in her laptop screen. Ice was at the bulletproof windows, gazing down at the parking lot and grounds.
Jack took a long, hard look at Benson, then decided it was better to ignore him until the rage settled to where he could talk to the old coyote without busting the asshole’s nose. Jack shook his head and strode over to join his brother at the window.
Ice glanced over at Jack, a hint of relief in his eyes. “Oh, damn, you made it out. Was hoping I’d have to come down there and save your ass, carry my baby brother out in my arms. That would make a real nice video for the rest of the guys.”
Jack grinned. “Payback for that video of you hogtied like a pig in a poke on that last mission?”
Ice smiled tightly, then refocused his gaze on the scene outside. Jack could see four black SUVs parked strategically at well-spaced locations, eighteen gunmen spread out and crouched behind the vehicles, all wearing bulletproof vests, each shouldering an assault rifle aimed at the exit closest to him.
Romeo Carmine was out there himself. He stood behind the hood of the third SUV, wearing a black flak-jacket that would most certainly stop a 9mm bullet.
Which was too bad, because all Darkwater had were 9mm bullets.
“So we have to make eighteen clean head-shots with handguns from about a hundred feet away while dodging a hailstorm of bullets from automatic assault rifles.” Jack shrugged. “About the same odds as a basketball player sinking eighteen baskets in a row from halfway down the court with a dozen defenders trying to body-slam him to the floor.”
Ice chuckled dryly. “When did you become a math guy? Also, you sucked at basketball.” He gestured with his head towards the second SUV. There was movement behind the tinted windows of the backseat. “There’s someone inside that second vehicle. Can’t see through the tinted glass, but from the outline it appears to be a woman.”
“Kay Steffen,” came Benson’s voice from behind Jack and Ice. “We walked right into her trap. Don’t know how she did it, but she found a way to trace your Darkwater phone, Jack.”
Jack turned to face Benson now. Ice’s coolheaded presence had taken the edge off Jack’s anger, but Benson’s sideways grin sent his rage skyrocketing again. “Save the analysis for later. How about we focus on getting everyone safely out of here first, Benson, all right?”
Benson said nothing. Neither did anybody else.
Jack rubbed the back of his neck, frowning when he looked at his palm and saw that it was grimy with soot and sweat. He glanced at his Darkwater phone again to check for a signal.
No signal. He tossed it onto the desk, narrowly missing clocking Benson on the head with it.
Benson didn’t flinch. But he did lose the grin. Gazing sharply into Jack’s eyes, Benson shrugged up at him. “Look around, kid. You see anybody objecting to my decision? Take that as a sign that they understand why I’m doing this. Don’t make me explain it all over again.”
“I don’t give a fuck about your bullshit explanation.” Jack flicked his gaze to Nancy, who wouldn’t look at him. Moving his gaze around the table, Jack focused his attention on Paige. Benson might be giving the orders, but Paige was pushing the buttons. “Paige, you know this is insane. Turn our phones back on. Or send a message for help through your laptop. Benson can’t stop you from doing that. You’re former CIA. Kaiser knows you. Tell him we’re trapped and surrounded. He’ll send help. FBI or CIA or Homeland Security or local SWAT.”
“There is no local SWAT,” came Benson’s sharp response before Paige could say a word. “We’re in the middle of Nowhere, Virginia. Local police are forty miles away, and they’re neither staffed nor prepared for this level of action. Every other agency is also a non-starter. We cannot risk getting a cop or federal agent killed.”
“Then tell Kaiser to send in some CIA operatives,” Jack said, trying to stay steady and focused even as the sinking dread took hold of his insides as he began to understand why Benson was doing this. “Hell, call in Ax, Bruiser, Fox, the rest of the Darkwater guys. Kaiser can make one phone call to an air-force base and hook them up with a chopper. Why haven’t you already made the call? Are you insane?” He glared at the ashen faces of the men and women in the room. “Have you all lost your fucking minds?”
Benson stood now, leaning on his aluminum cane. The flames licking the outside of the thick window-glass cast strange shadows on the old CIA man’s face, making him look like some kind of shapeshifter, a being who’d inhabited many bodies, looked through many pairs of eyes, grinned many coyote grins.
“Jack, look,” Benson said, his tone softening. “CIA is technically a civilian agency, so Kaiser can’t just send a bunch of agents into a gunfight on U.S. soil. FBI is a non-starter, because they don’t see eye-to-eye with the CIA. Same with DHS and every other federal agency with armed officers. Sure, they’ll come blazing in to help, but after the smoke clears and everyone realizes it’s another Darkwater clusterfuck, Martin Kaiser will be done as CIA Director because of his association with us.” He shook his head, smiled a vaguely resigned smile that send a splinter of alarm up Jack’s back, like maybe Benson was checking out of the game, was ready to fold his cards and leave the table, take his final bow and let the curtain come down. “You know damn well that Kaiser was on rocky ground with the Senate Intelligence Committee. Yeah, when your brother took out Rhett Rodgers on that last mission, it gave Kaiser some breathing room, a clearer path to keep his position until Robinson won the White House. But it’s too close to the election for Kaiser to get tainted by another Darkwater mess or cover-up. Senator Robinson is the Head of the Senate Intelligence Committee. And if a cop or federal agent gets killed in this skirmish, Robinson will have to force Kaiser to resign. Or else Robinson will be hurting his own election chances by appearing to give Kaiser a pass for covering up Darkwater’s sketchy operations on U.S. soil.” He shook his head again. “And everyone in this room—you included, Jack—understands that without Martin Kaiser’s behind-the-scenes support, Darkwater will die a slow death. Hell, Martin is a Darkwater man too.” Benson chuckled. “He might not admit it. Might not even realize it. But either way, for Darkwater to continue on its mission, Martin Kaiser needs to remain Director of the CIA, and Senator Robinson needs to get to the White House. That’s the bigger picture, the greater mission, the ultimate goal. And everyone in this room understands that sometimes you have to make tough choices for the bigger picture.”
Some choices aren’t yours to make, you crazy old coyote prick, Jack thought viciously as he rubbed his jaw and glanced at Jill, who stood silently against the far wall with Fay. She smiled hesitantly at him, blinking slowly and deliberately, like she was trying to communicate that she understood even if she didn’t know all the details. Jack frowned back at her, narrowing his gaze, tilting his head and trying to read Jill’s expression. But his brain was buzzing too hard, and he forced his attention back to Benson.
“All right, fine, you’re right. We can’t risk cops or FBI getting killed in the crossfire. Sure, there’s a chance Romeo just hightails it out of here rather than get into a showdown with law enforcement. But we can’t count on that happening. And if Romeo’s thugs get surprised by the cops or FBI, there’ll be shots fired and things could go to hell really fucking fast.” He took a breath, exhaled hard. “But we’ve got Darkwater reinforcements, Benson. Ax, Bruiser, Edge . . .”
“It’s almost Christmas.” Benson smiled, then shook his head, leaned on his cane, and limped to the window, stopping with his nose almost against the glass, his silver-gray eyes gazing out over the surreal scene of a crisp cold December night with angry flames licking the corners of the thick window-glass like orange serpent-tongues. The sudden snowstorm which had hit Philadelphia hadn’t made its way south to Virginia, and the sky was cloudless, like fate was making it clear that weather wasn’t going to save the day and put out the flames for them. Benson looked out the window thoughtfully, then turned to Jack and sighed. “I sent the other Darkwater guys home to their families yesterday. Ax is in Atlanta. Bruiser’s in Illinois. Cody is on the Texas coast. Dogg and Diana are in Florida. Edge and Emma are back in Vegas. Gavin’s in London with Gale.” He glanced at Fay, who was fidgeting restlessly against the far wall. “And although Fay is stuck here with us, Fox is in Montana with the kids. Of course, all those guys would be here in a heartbeat if I called, but they’d never get here in time. Not unless the Department of Defense has perfected that teleportation machine.” He tried to chuckle but didn’t quite pull it off.
“You know damn well that Kaiser can make one phone call and—” Jack started to say before Benson cut him off with a sharp look.
“Kaiser cannot get involved in something like this on U.S. soil without getting himself burned. Yeah, he’d do it, no questions asked. But that’s why I’m not going to ask, damn it.” He shook his head firmly, turned to face Jack. “And I won’t call Ax or Cody or any of the guys, won’t let you do it either. They might decide to say fuck it and just send the cavalry to save our asses. Which will still bring Kaiser down, thanks to his history with Darkwater.”
“You think Kaiser would choose his damn job over you, Benson? Over us?” Jack rubbed his eyes, shook his head, then sighed in frustration. “Of course he wouldn’t. That’s why you won’t call him and won’t let us call him. John Benson playing the great game of choice and circumstance, right? Choosing everyone else’s fate for them. Making other people’s choices for them. You decide who gets sacrificed along the way to Darkwater’s destiny, right?”
“That’s right, kid. I fucking decide who gets sacrificed,” Benson said sharply. He looked sternly around the room at the faces of his team, then chuckled darkly and glanced up at Jack. “But although I might be crazy, I’m not a monster, kid. Darkwater is the only family I have, the only family I’ll ever fucking have.” Benson’s eyes blazed with something dangerously serious as he surveyed the room once again with his commanding gaze. “And I will protect my Darkwater family until my dying breath.” He gazed grimly into Jack’s eyes. “Just like you will, right?”
“Roger that.” Jack’s response was immediate, instinctive, unconditional.
Benson nodded, then glanced at Keller. “How about you, Keller the Killer?”
Keller grunted out an affirmative response, no words needed to signal his willingness to do whatever it took.
“Good,” said Benson, glancing up at the blocked-off ventilator grill, around which wisps of smoke were beginning to curl into the room. “Then it’s settled. Jack, Keller, and I will go out the front three doors with guns blazing, drawing all Romeo’s fire on us, leaving the fourth exit clear. Hogan and Ice will get the women out the last exit, get them to Hogan’s truck, get them safely out of here.” Gasps rose up from the women as the realization set in that Jack, Keller, and Benson weren’t going to walk away from this. “Oh, stop it. Don’t get all sentimental on me now. You’re Darkwater women, damn it. You know I’m right—and if you don’t, then tough shit. I’m in charge, and my decision is final. Jack, Keller, and I are the only ones without families waiting for us at home. The rest of you do. And I will not have any Darkwater children growing up without a mother or father if I can help it.”
Protests and objections rose up around the table.
Then a single voice cut through the chatter.
“I’m staying,” came Jill’s voice from the side wall now, surprising everyone with its firmness. “I don’t have a husband or child waiting for me at home. I don’t even have any family. Except for Nina. And . . .” Jill looked at Jack, her sooty cheeks darkening as she blushed. She nervously touched her hair, cast another knowing look at Jack, then shrugged and flashed a little smile. “I’m staying with you, Jack. I . . . I love you, Jack.”
Jack stared as if the entire world stopped spinning. Every head now turned in his direction. He swallowed hard, clenched his fists and his jaw and everything else in his body to stop himself from rushing to Jill and taking her into his arms, holding her close for the last time, close enough that perhaps they’d merge into one, remain joined forever and beyond.
“I fucking love you too, Jill,” came Jack’s response that somehow made it out past the lump of indescribably thick emotion lodged in his throat. “Which is why you’re going with Ice and Hogan and the rest of the women. No questions. No objections. This is what’s happening, and that’s final.”
“Like hell it is,” came Ice’s voice now. Jack turned in surprise to see Ice storming towards Benson from his post by the window, shaking his head furiously, the coolest motherfucker in the room looking about as shaken as Jack had ever seen his older brother. “This is bullshit. We’ve got three Delta guys and a Recon Marine in the room. Keller, Jack, Hogan, and I are trained for this. We can hold off eighteen guys long enough for Benson to get the women out.” He glanced at Hogan inquiringly. “Am I right, Hogan?”
“Roger that.” Hogan didn’t even flinch.
Benson chuckled, wagging his finger at them like a schoolmaster reprimanding some smartass kids. “Absolutely not. Hogan and Ice, you two are going back to your wives. I don’t want to answer to Hannah and Indy in the afterlife. Knowing them, they’ll get a psychic to hunt down my soul and torment me while I’m trying to relax in that warm cozy spot reserved for me in hell.”
“Our wives will understand.” Ice shrugged stoically.
“Hannah knows what kind of man she married.” Hogan’s expression was cold determination.
“And Fox knows what kind of woman he married.” Fay’s voice wavered, but not enough to stop her from speaking up. “I’m not letting anyone die to save me. My husband will understand. So will my children.”
“OK, if Jill and Fay are staying, then I am too.” Paige piped in now. “Besides, I don’t have children either.” She glanced at Jill admiringly, then did her best to meet Benson’s glare without flinching.
“There you have it, John.” Nancy was the last to speak up, but somehow Jack sensed she’d already decided to stay and just didn’t want to argue with Benson. “To hell with your heroics. You don’t want to call in the cavalry, fine. But then we’re all going to fight to our last breath.”
Benson groaned, rubbed his eyes, then coughed and glanced at the ventilator shaft, which was now barely visible as the smoke seeped through thicker. “Look, we don’t have time for this. And now it’s too late to call anyone to save our asses even if Paige turns the phones back on. We’ll die of smoke inhalation before anyone gets to us way out here in the boonies.” He glared at Ice, then Hogan. “Look, take the women and get moving, you two. That’s an order. Darkwater is not a fucking democracy. We don’t take a vote to decide the best course of action. That’s not how the game is played.”
The smoke was pouring in heavier now. Jill was coughing, so was Fay. The room was big and airy, so they weren’t about to pass out just yet. But the clock was ticking. It was time to pull the trigger, Jack knew.
“Go,” said Jack to Ice, glancing into his brother’s eyes. “Benson’s right. It’s too late to call anyone. And even with Keller, Benson, and me drawing most of Romeo’s attention, you might still have to fight your way past a couple of thugs to get the women safe.” Jack leaned close to his brother, lowered his voice, his mind swirling with the strange thought that perhaps Jill was already carrying a reminder of their love in her womb. “Get Jill out for me, brother. No matter what she says, no matter what she does. Get her out. Get her safe.”
Ice stared silently into Jack’s eyes. Then he nodded curtly, glanced over at Hogan, who huffed out a breath, nodding in reluctant agreement.
But as Hogan and Ice moved to round up the women and escort them out the door, Nancy pushed her chair back from the desk, stormed to the open doorway, stood dead center with her hands on her hips, her fiery red hair brighter than the flames licking at the windows.
“John, wait, stop, listen,” she said, looking pleadingly at Benson, her eyes wide with an uncharacteristic desperation. She looked around wildly, and for a moment Jack thought she might be losing it, coming unhinged. “Isn’t this how you said the game is played? With emotion and feeling? With the heart and not the head?”
Benson was on his feet now, had drawn his Smith and Wesson 9mm handgun and was busy checking the magazine. “What’s your point, Nancy?”
“My point is that for the first time you’re making a choice with your head and not your heart, John. But the rest of us just did the opposite. We all chose with our hearts, not our heads. Don’t you see, John? We’re all understanding how the game is played! Even I’m starting to accept that choices have power, that decisions can change the flow of events if they’re powered by real emotions, by selfless love.” Nancy’s voice was thin and peaked, her wide-eyed gaze darting around the room like she was looking for something, hoping for something, praying for something.
Benson finished checking his weapon, slammed the magazine into place, chambered a bullet, then glanced up impatiently. “Well, it’s great that after seven years you’re finally coming around to my view of the world, Nancy.” He flashed a distracted smile, gestured with his head for Ice and Hogan to get a move on. “But if you’ve got a point to make, hurry the fuck up and make it, Nancy.”
“Yes, hurry the fuck up!” Nancy’s voice was almost a shriek. Still casting those wide-eyed looks all over the place like she was losing her mind, Nancy screamed out the words again and again. “Hurry the fuck up! Hurry the fuck up, Universe,” she sobbed, tears streaming down her face. “That’s what you said is supposed to happen, John!”
“What did I say is supposed to happen?” Benson looked bewildered.
“Something! Anything!” Nancy was almost hysterical now, her eyes almost as red as her hair. “Your damn universe is supposed to respond to the sorts of choices we all just made, right? Something is supposed to happen right now. Some event that’s coincidence or circumstance, fate or destiny, providence or probability! The universe responds, doesn’t it? That’s what you said, John. That’s what you promised, John!”
Benson’s shoulders slumped as he stared at his precious Nancy come undone. He limped towards her, one hand on his cane, the other reaching for her. “Oh, Nancy,” he whispered. “Yes, that’s how fate works. Choices driven by true emotion do evoke a response from the universe.” He took her trembling hand in his, squeezed gently, smiled with warm sadness. “But sometimes that response from the universe is . . . nothing. Because even nothing is a response, Nancy. Just like zero is a number. Just like darkness is the absence of light.”
Nancy stared at Benson with zero expression on her face, darkness in her blue eyes. “So that’s the answer? Those are your final words of wisdom for me, John?” She narrowed those blue eyes, her lips tightening to a colorless line. “Nothing is the answer? Zero is the number? We ask for light and get only darkness?”
Benson grinned one last coyote grin, shrugged one last devil-may-care shrug, was about to pull Nancy in for one last hug.
But then suddenly a streak of light burst through the darkness beyond the flickering flames outside the window.
And one of Romeo Carmine’s SUVs exploded in a cascade of sparks and a crash of flame, sending burning ripped-up bodies tumbling through the air like acrobats in a gruesome flying trapeze!
“What the hell?!” Benson dropped his cane in the mad scramble to the window, where Ice and the rest of the guys were already staring at the mangled mess of black steel and what appeared to be silver aluminum, the lightweight kind used in aviation. “Is that a . . . drone? Did an unmanned surveillance drone just crash out of the fucking sky and smash into one of Romeo’s vehicles?” He turned halfway towards Nancy with a mixture of shock, amusement, and pure disbelief. “Nice work, Nancy,” he managed to quip in the chaos.
Nancy was stunned into silence, her lips moving soundlessly as she joined the rest of the Darkwater crew at the window, all of them staring as Romeo’s surviving men ran around like chickens with their heads cut off, some trying to pull their burning buddies out of the wreckage, others taking cover behind the remaining three SUVs, all of them looking up in bewilderment, perhaps wondering if God was shooting thunderbolts at them from the heavens.
But then a voice cut through the jubilant chaos in the Darkwater war-room.
“Ask and ye shall receive.”
It wasn’t a booming voice that might be the thundering bellow of Zeus.
Instead it was a robot-like female AI-voice that sounded tinny and strange coming from the speakers of Paige’s laptop computer open on the conference room table.
“Here is your diversion, John Benson.” The AI-voice sounded vaguely taunting, hauntingly delicate, a strange cadence to the metallic feminine tone. “Three more incoming.”