Project Sparta (The Xander Whitt Series Book 1) (16 page)

“You got it. It’ll be in tomorrow morning’s paper, but won’t you be effectively inviting Agent Zero into your house?”

“I could be, but we’re running out of time and we’re going to need the help.” Xander walked over to the table, grabbed a Sharpie and approached the wall of notes.

“What’s going on? Whose voice is that?” Xander bit the cap off and spit it out on the floor. He crossed out the words
Inside Man
on the wall and wrote the name.

Senator Helen Bashfield.

Chapter 30

Russell House Office Building

Washington, DC

July 1
st
2016

Senator Helen Bashfield was working late in her ornate congressional office. Red-and-blue carpet added an air of patriotism to the décor, along with the statues of eagles and painting of Washington crossing the Delaware. A television set aired the coverage of the Georgetown bus bombing.

A glass of red wine stood on the desk, considering the impending attack and scheme. She pondered how she had gotten so deep into the rebellion and if she was being double-crossed by her protégé. After a moment of reflection, her phone vibrated next to her. She brought it to her ear.

“Is this line secure?”

“Yes,” Agent Zero responded.

“I see you have hit your second target. The city is on edge… Good work.” Her shrill voice approved from on high.

“Thank you.”

“But Xander is on your trail and I don’t have the target,” Bashfield stated, plainly.

“You assured us that we would not be watched.”

“Xander acts outside of standard protocol. There is no predicting his movements,” Bashfield said defensively.

“I planned for this.”

“Wait, are you saying that you intentionally gave him the box?”

“He would have gotten it anyway. Nothing could have stopped him, which is why he now has the box and why he is the key to all of this. I need to speak to the Chairman and present a revised plan to the Collective,” Agent Zero led. Bashfield laughed, a villainous shrill.

“I don’t think so. You know that only members can speak before the Collective. And as for the Chairman… don’t be so naïve, my dear. It is the Collective’s role to plan, and it is your role to execute that plan. You have been my protégé for some time and I admire your brightness, but you have to know your place.” A long pause followed.

“How do I relay my message?” Agent Zero asked through gritted teeth.

“You will have to tell me, and I will relay the message at our next meeting,” she explained.

“So you will receive credit for my plan? The one that I devise and execute?” Agent Zero’s tone began its revolt, but Bashfield only laughed in mockery.

“As a matter of fact, yes. You do not have a seat at the table. You and your Skeptics are merely foot soldiers for the Collective, nothing else. If all goes according to plan, I will submit your name to the Collective for consideration. Now tell me your genius plan, and I will see what the Collective thinks of it.” She was direct and cold. A weighted silence came over the phone that was only broken by words that left her quivering in the darkness of her office.

“Never mind. The plan just changed.”

The phone went dead.

Chapter 31

The Compound

March 28
th
2011

A buzz hung in the air as Anni made the weekly announcement.

“Good afternoon, Spartans. Today’s forecast is mostly cloudy with a seventy percent chance of rain. The high is fifty-one. Please report to the street for your fifteenth battle by sixteen-hundred hours. Have a good day, Spartans, and remember, nothing is as it seems.”

Excited for the battle, Xander dropped down and pumped out fifty push-ups. He hopped in the shower and carried on with the preparations necessary for the day. He was riding high on a new fervor of commitment to the Project. His retreat from the Compound with Colonel Hardy had had a lasting effect on him. He no longer felt caged in the program.

Xander stepped up on the lift gate of the transport to join his fellow Spartans. They were changing into their battle suits. Duke, already dressed, sat on one of the side benches and eyed Fiona up and down as she shed her clothes.

“Fiona, I see you have been working out those glutes!” he said as he reached out and grabbed her rear end. Xander slammed his rifle against Duke, pinning him to the transport wall with the barrel by the throat. The transport wall was dented from the impact of Duke’s head; the force exerted was like nothing the Spartans had seen before, even from the bulkiest recruit. Xander leaned into him with his knee, grabbing hold of a steady foundation. Duke gasped for breath under the gun barrel. The Spartans all stopped disrobing and watched—half concerned, half amused.

“Duke, you are going to apologize for being a complete dickhead these last six months,” Xander demanded through his teeth. He was a new Xander, one who wasn’t going to roll over and was going to lead from the front. It was a play for respect. The whites in his knuckles popped from pressing the gun further into Duke’s esophagus. Duke’s eye’s bulged as he looked side to side. He struggled for breath, until he turned purple. He nodded his head to indicate his submission. Xander lightened his grip on Duke’s life so he could squeak out a word of apology.

“I’m sorry… I’m sorry, Fiona…” he gasped, just before Xander released him. He gasped for breath over and over as the oxygen returned to his brain. The Spartans continued to dress with a collective grin from seeing Duke squirm. Hardy entered the back of the transport once they were all equipped, ignoring the obvious scene that had just taken place and the dent in the transport wall behind Duke’s head. Axle followed, dressed in the same battle suit as the recruits.

“Since we are down to eight Spartans, Captain Axle will be participating in today’s battle.” A defeated sigh came over the recruits. Axle grinned ear to ear after seeing their obvious dismay.

“Deal with it.” Hardy couldn’t help but to crack a smile as well.

“The most critical part of your success as operatives will lie in your ability to work well as a team. Most worthy tasks are too big for one man. A team is often necessary to complete missions successfully. You will have to rely on, work with, and ultimately trust your team to be victorious.” His eyes settled on Xander when he said this. Xander acknowledged him, and Hardy continued as the transport started rolling toward the Compound’s exit.

“Today you will be broken up into three teams of three. Here are your teams,” he yelled over the revving engine. He clicked a remote device that activated the suits, and they lit up in different colors. Jooles, Mac, and Seamus were Red. Tobias, Axle, and Ashton were Green. Xander, Fiona, and Duke were assigned to the Blue team. Xander would have to work with the two individuals he trusted least in the Compound—his rival and his mark.

Dammit.

He thought he saw Hardy flash him a wink.

«————————»

“Red team to the right, green team straight ahead, and blue team to the left.” Hardy instructed as the lift gate opened to reveal their battle landscape: two hundred acres of forgotten land and twenty-two abandoned buildings. Overgrown weeds brushed against their knees as they stepped off the transport. A weathered bronze plaque marked the entryway of the administration building.

Forest Haven Asylum

The complex stood in the woods of Laurel, Maryland. It once housed thousands of the severely mentally disabled patients, as well as kids belonging to its child development center. With many lawsuits and deaths on the premises, it was soon abandoned. It now stands forgotten, unkempt, a symbol of the broken institutionalization practices of the past—a memory the city had chosen to forget.

The Spartans split into their teams of three and spread out across the grounds. Xander, Duke, and Fiona started running along the west side of the complex. Their gait slowed as their eyes raised to the heights of the administration building. Broken, stained windows and chipped brick marked the towering structure, topped with a hat of fragmented clay shingles. Fiona slowed to a stop as they passed under a rusted, netless basketball hoop. She shivered at the sight.

“What is this place? It gives me the creeps.”

“What? Can’t handle an abandoned mental institution?” Duke taunted.

“Stay focused, Fiona. I have a feeling this will be an endurance challenge. It will become a strategy play of when to attack, defend camp, and send scouts,” Xander said.

The grounds were vast and there were many structures where the teams could set up camp. He could foresee that a great deal of this would be a waiting game.

“Let’s head out. And Fiona? Watch out for ghosts.” Duke snickered. They continued around the administration building to the residence hall. The split door creaked and echoed through the interior hallway as they entered. The drywall had chipped away, revealing the bricks and the building’s skeleton. It looked like a grenade had exploded inside, as debris from its former life was scattered along the cement floor of the corridor.

“What is this place? Chernobyl?” Duke asked. Rooms lined the hallway, all of which once housed the most troubled souls in the District—schizophrenics, epileptics, and the bipolar. Xander could almost hear the screams from the past tortures committed through the walls. Three blue illuminated suits proceeded down the dim, decrepit hallway, rifles cocked at their shoulders. Fiona’s visor fogged as her breath deepened.

Xander passed an open room with an iron bed frame that had rusted to an auburn hue. Laying on the spring board was a doll dressed in a stained floral print dress; its one eye bulged and the other half of its porcelain face had been smashed. They continued down the hallway, following the water pipes that lined the upper wall. At the end was a common area, a circular room with wide windows, a few of which were free of muck and maintained their transparency. They viewed the central yard, giving the Blue Team the best vantage point the area had to offer. There was an old armchair and couch in the room. The armchair’s upholstery had been ripped open and its foam guts spilt out over the seat.

“This is where we set up camp.” Duke surveyed the room, leaning his rifle up against a chipped sink. Fiona and Xander brought their weapons down, agreeing with Duke’s assessment.

“What’s the plan?” Xander asked.

“Fiona, I want you on the hallway and I want you on the window, orphan boy. I’ll go out to scout around and return in half an hour. We’ll see if we can locate the other teams,” Duke ordered.

“All right. Just be careful that you aren’t seen. If they discover our location and know that you aren’t here, they will raid and outnumber us,” Xander said.

“Do you think I’m an idiot?” Duke asked through consternation.

Fiona answered for him: “Yes!”

«————————»

Four hours had passed and darkness had fallen. The teams had no doubt settled in their camps at this point and sent out patrols. Not one shot fired. Fiona and Xander remained in the common room as Duke took another patrol.

“Is something bothering you, Xander?” Fiona asked. He did not like the question. He had tried to be as normal around her as possible.

Well, the girl I’m falling in love with may be a double agent, and I’m investigating her for treason. But other than that, I’m just swell.

“No, I’m just focused on the battle,” he said.

He wanted to answer the question truthfully, but he had to keep her at arm’s length. She could be a traitor, no matter how badly he wanted to deny it. He observed the yard through his scope.

“You seem upset, though,” she persisted.

“I’m fine—”

An explosion sounded in the distance to the south. Xander spun back to his vantage point.

Anni spoke in their helmets.

“Grenade… Not a bad strategy for clusters of people…” Xander noted, storing the observation away in his memory bank.

“Duke!” Fiona cried.

“Red team has been eliminated,” Anni said in their helmets. “Two teams remain.”

Relief came over Xander upon hearing the update. He steadied his rifle’s scope down the yard. He noticed excited movement in the small structure behind the main administration building. He thought he could hear rejoicing in the distance. A stained glass window marked its high exterior.

It’s a chapel.

He could visualize what happened: Axle, the most experienced tactician among them, creeping along the buildings unseen. He was sure that the explosion was him dropping a grenade in the middle of the Red Team’s camp. Ashton and Tobias would remain at their camp as he performed the patrols.

A clanking sound echoed behind Xander through the ominous residence hall ahead of Fiona.

After focusing for a moment down the hall, Duke strutted in with a swagger in his step.

“How’d you like my tag? Pretty impressive, huh?” He stretched his arms out, ready to receive praise.

“That was you?” Fiona asked.

“Yeah, I blew them up with a grenade. Pretty great, huh?”

Xander’s ear perked up from the barrel of his rifle. His mind lunged into its usual frenzy of cause and effect analysis.

If Duke tagged the Red Team, where was Axle?

Fire came at them from down the hall. Duke threw Fiona behind the sofa for cover. His back arched as a spark flew out from his side. He collapsed behind the couch, wounded. The fire stopped for a moment. Xander spun the armchair around and sat on it backward, using the chair’s back as cover. They had a triangle of cover, as Xander was at its highest tip. Fiona’s back was planted against the couch as fire was exchanged and foam debris exploded out from the couch like popping popcorn.

“Are you okay, Duke?” Xander yelled over the gunfire. Duke’s body heaved, reaching for breath as his suit thickened and dimmed around his midsection. A painful nod followed. Axle had them on their heels and Xander knew he would need to change the elements at play. They were cornered and one of his men was down.

“Listen, Duke, you are in no condition to continue. We need to use you as a diversion,” Xander yelled.

“Yeah, right. You’re not using me!” Duke fumed through his clenched teeth.

“I’m sorry, Duke, but it’s the only way our team will win. You will still get the points for the team’s victory.”

“Screw you!” Duke was infuriated and could only curse over the pain.

“I’m sorry, Duke. Fiona, lift him up. It will draw him from cover and I’ll take her out,” Xander ordered over his scope. He aimed it down the hallway at the doorframe Axle was using for cover.

Fiona grabbed Duke and shoved him up and over the cover like a whack-a-mole. Axle swung out from cover and fired two bullets down the hallway, hitting Duke square in the chest. Sparks flew out from Duke’s suit and he collapsed—the light in his suit extinguished. Axle, now exposed, flew back in sparks himself as Xander squeezed the trigger. Anni did not make the announcement for either of the tags, as both teams were still in play.

Xander looked down at Duke, whose eyes were furious. He could move his mouth, but his suit was frozen solid as he struggled against the restriction.

“I’m sorry, Duke, it was the only way,” Xander explained.

“I’m going to get you for this, you little orphan shit!” Duke screamed indignantly.

“Let’s move out, Fiona. We need to siege the chapel. That’s where Tobias and Ashton are set up. Tobias isn’t the best fighter, and Ashton will be disadvantaged in close quarters.” Xander played to their weaknesses, knowing Ashton preferred distance for her deadly aim behind a sniper rifle.

A moment later, Xander and Fiona crawled through high weeds toward the chapel, using the elements to provide cover. He knew that Ashton’s sniper position would change due to the previous gunfire. They army crawled low and quick and reached the front door of the chapel. They stood and Fiona picked a weed off Xander’s shoulder. She flashed a smile at him, one he couldn’t help but return. The conflict between mission and emotion raged in him, but the battle was the important thing now. He motioned to his leg. She grabbed the two grenades strapped to his leg and fed her thumbs through the pins, ready to pull. With a nod of his head, Fiona pulled the pins. His fingers flashed.