The Hunted Assassin (35 page)

“Looks like they found Madame Elina and triggered the alarm,” Camille said.

“It was inevitable. I was hoping to at least make it through the pavilion before it happened, but that’s what your plan was for. Go ahead and pull the trigger, Cam.”

Camille waited to get to the bottom of the stairs before she brought up her commPad to activate the devices. Bright digital numerals displayed on her panel, and three, two, one counted down. Then, silence.

The silence only lasted a moment before a noticeable shimmy could be felt throughout the station’s floor. The lights flickered and dimmed then went out completely. Emergency lights kicked on within seconds, and then, more alarms. Warnings began to blare about hull breaches and evacuation directions followed.

“Well, there goes the lower fifty floors of this shit hole,” Camille said. “I placed the charges right where you said, in the elevator shaft just below level one.”

Jaxon smiled. “That should keep them distracted for a while. Plenty of time to get off this sinking ship.”

63

With catastrophic failures commencing throughout the space station, the security guards normally stationed at the space dock entrance were nowhere in sight. No doubt called to other parts of the ship to regain a semblance of control. Having one less obstacle to worry about made gaining access to their ship practically a walk in the park.

“I’m sorry, girls,” Jaxon began, “but we really weren’t prepared to have quite so many guests on our trip home. But I assure you, the ride will be quick, and you’ll certainly have more space and freedom than you ever had with Madame Elina.”

Jaxon scanned the cramped cargo bay, analyzing each of the girls’ faces as he did so. Nearly a third of them had blank stares on their faces, having already been processed through the mental manipulation device. The remaining girls’ emotions ranged from fear to jubilation for being freed from the confines of their metal cages. As he continued looking at each of the girls, Jaxon couldn’t help but think about how Francisco would be overjoyed at their success of the rescue. Jaxon smiled warmly.

“Now, Camille here will help you each find a place to get comfortable. We’re limited on bunkrooms, but as soon as I move out of my quarters, I’m certain that there will be enough space for four or five of you to have some privacy.”

Camille, who was standing next to Jaxon, nudged him kindly. “Same with my bunk. I’ll just follow along where the boss goes, freeing up more private space for you all.” Camille slipped her arm around Jaxon and held him tight.

Oliver also offered his bunkroom to the girls, but both Jaxon and Camille agreed that although it was a nice gesture, he’d be able to share his bunk with at least Gigi for the ride home. Not surprisingly, the suggestion was agreeable to both of them.

Hours later, Jaxon and Camille had assembled a makeshift cot in the corner of the cockpit for their two-day trip back to earth.

Having settled most of the live cargo, Oliver walked into the cockpit.

“I think we’re good, boss,” he said, standing between to two rear stations. “Gigi is taking a nap and all the other girls are tucked away in the various bunkrooms we have. It’s tight, but everyone’s attitude is positive at this point.”

“That’s great, Miles. Why don’t you take a load off and relax for a bit?” Jaxon said.

Oliver lowered himself into Francisco’s seat and tilted the chair back, tossing his feet up onto the console. “I was thinking, boss. You want us to pass around … a picture of Celeste to the girls? Maybe they’ve seen her.”

Jaxon looked at Oliver fondly. “That won’t be necessary, Miles. I already know where she is. Or at least I have a good idea about her location. When I was interrogating Guzman, he didn’t come right out with her exact location, but he did say that Brutus has her personally. As soon as we get to earth, I’m dropping you two off, along with all our hitchhikers, then I’m going to rescue her.”

“There’s no way you’re going alone,” Camille said, kicking Jaxon’s heel with her toe. “Wherever you go, I go. You got that, mister?”

“Same here, boss,” Oliver said, holding his thumb up in the air.

“I appreciate the gesture, guys, but I can’t ask you two to do this. Whether I’m right or wrong on who Brutus really is, I stand a good chance of being court-martialed because of my approach. I might very well spend the rest of my life in some GSA jail cell.”

Neither Camille nor Oliver flinched.

“Just the same, boss, I’m there for the duration. Besides, what are our alternatives? I was already kicked out of the GSA once. What else do I have to lose?”

“Here, here,” Camille said. “If you’re right, you’re going to need our help all the way.”

Jaxon was taken aback by their loyalty. He had a sneaking suspicion that Camille wouldn’t let him out of her sight for the rest of her natural life and expected it. As for Oliver, he was a tough man to read, and was constantly full of surprises.

“Okay, then. You’re on. As far as the GSA knows, we’re all MIA, so were not landing in San Francisco. We’re actually going to land back where we took off, out in the New Mexico desert’s spaceport.”

“Do you think that’s wise?” Camille asked. “The place isn’t exactly a top-secret facility, but it’s still highly populated by the GSA.”

“Yeah, I know,” Jaxon said. “But, if my plan works, we’ll only need a few moments of surprise before anyone’s the wiser. Once we land, we can hand our passengers off to the GSA and duck out in the process. Besides, our destination isn’t terribly far from the port anyway.”

Oliver and Camille both perked up at hearing Jaxon’s conceived plan. “Do tell,” Camille said.

Jaxon spent the next several hours explaining what he’d discovered through Guzman’s interrogation and his plan of attack. In the end, all three were in agreement that it was the only feasible approach. Their first step was to determine exactly who Brutus was. They each had their suspicions as to who.

The rest of the journey back to earth passed in relative normalcy. Something new for them for a change.

64

Jaxon sat in the driver’s seat of the sport UTV that he and Oliver drove from the safe house to the spaceport a few weeks earlier. Having returned to that same vestige, he sat idle, under the cover of the forest canopy. From his position, he had eyes on the front door of the safe house.

Having been back on Earth for a little less than a week, he and his companions remained undetected by the GSA. Their covert existence allowed them to fully plan their imminent operation. It also allowed them to secure multiple tools of the trade along the way.

Jaxon reached up as if to scratch the back of his ear and gently tapped at his skin. “Hummingbird, what’s your status?” he asked. Hummingbird was the codename he’d given to Camille. He thought assigning codenames at that stage was foolish, but with Camille’s limited experience in covert field operations, she felt … not necessarily special, but secure by the implementation of them.

Within a few seconds, she replied. “All is quiet from my end, Saber. Over.”

“Ladies Man?” Jaxon asked, referring to Oliver’s self-declared codename.

“I was just about to call you, boss, er, I mean Saber. A black, GSA-licensed SUV just turned off the main road and is heading your way.” After a few moments of silence, Oliver spoke again. “Over.”

“Here that, Hummingbird? The game is on,” Jaxon said, feeling his anxiety build.

“Roger that, Saber. Would you refresh our minds on what your signal will be? Over.”

“It’s Clay Francisco, obviously. Over,” Jaxon said with a grin.

Within moments, the SUV came barreling up the dirt road and stopped in front of the rustic cabin. Jaxon continued to watch, anxiously waiting to see if the director followed their precise written instructions.
Come alone.

The director exited the vehicle and cautiously looked around at his surroundings. Having once been a covert operative himself, Jaxon recognized the honed skill set. After a few moments of hesitation, the director climbed the front steps and walked into the cabin.

“The falcon has landed,” Jaxon said. “The sparrow is already in the nest, and our party is complete. Ladies man, please come up and join us. I will signal when it’s time for your arrival. Over.”

“Roger that, boss,” Oliver said, forgoing the codename nonsense.

Jaxon took in several deep breaths, exhaling slowly with each. He knew that the moment he walked through the door, all bets were off for a potential life in seclusion. But none of that mattered when it came to saving Celeste.

Jaxon checked himself once again and made sure that he had both his primary weapon as well as a snub nose at his ankle … just in case. Satisfied, he gunned the UTV and careened out of the brush and onto the dirt road. Seconds later, he parked next to the director’s vehicle. Not wasting a moment’s time, Jaxon sprinted up the steps and blasted through the front door, startling both Director Howe and Assistant Director Evans.

The heads of the GSA were seated at a small kitchen table, looking both confused and surprised.

“Jesus, Jaxon. We thought you were dead,” Howe said, pushing himself to his feet.

Jaxon watched both of their facial expressions as he walked further into the cabin. “Well, I’ve been told that I’m a tough man to kill, and I’d like to keep it that way.”

“When did you … get back?” Evans asked, standing to join Director Howe.

“Oh, I’ve been back for a … while. I’ve just been kind of laying low and taking care of some personal matters.”

“Such as the location of your daughter?” Director Howe asked.

“That, and trying to determine the identity of the mole.”

Jaxon watched, and neither Howe nor Evans flinched.

“Are you positive there’s actually a mole?” Howe asked. “It’s only been speculation—”

“I’m all but positive, director. And from what I’ve learned over the past few weeks, I’ve just about narrowed down his identity.”

“Well, that’s absolutely sensational news,” Evans said.

Jaxon perked up at hearing the assistant director’s choice of words. “Yes, it is, Perry. I’ve also learned that his codename for Pablo Guzman is Brutus. Is that equally sensational? Assistant director?” Jaxon asked, resting his hand casually on the butt of his gun.

“Whatever do you mean?” asked Evans. “I’ve … not heard that name before,” he stuttered as he crossed his arms defensively.

“What’s going on here?” Director Howe asked.

“If I’m right, director, Assistant Director Evans here is Brutus.”

Evans gasped. “That’s absurd. Whatever would give you that idea?” he asked, letting his hand slide to the inside of his coat.

“Well, you see, Guzman and I had a fairly in-depth conversation shortly before his tragic demise. He told me everything,” Jaxon lied, “including the fact that you have my daughter. And from my understanding, she’s here, somewhere, right now.”

“That’s preposterous,” Evans said. “You’re going to take the word of a known international criminal? Good Lord, the man had his hand in every crime-oriented business in the galaxy. From the obvious, drug manufacturing and distribution, to—

“Human trafficking? Prostitution? Racketeering?” Jaxon added.

“Precisely. Not a very upstanding citizen, I’d say,” Evans said, resting his hand on the butt of his own gun, tucked inside his jacket.

“The thing is, Perry, all the GSA knew about was the drug business. I just added the human trafficking statement after I discovered his activities in the outer ring. Until now, that was only known to him and his entourage. People like you, Brutus,” Jaxon said, stepping closer to Evans.

“Let’s just slow down,” Director Howe said. “Those are sizable accusations, Jaxon. I’ve known the assistant director for many years, and I’m sure he has explanation for—”

Before the director could finish, Evans withdrew his gun and thrust it into the director’s rib cage. “What? You want me to prove my innocence? You want me to assure you that I’m not Brutus? Well, let me tell you,” Evans said, pulling back the hammer on his pistol. “I’m done explaining things. I’m done. I’ve been in your shadow for far too long, and things are going to change.”

Howe winced at the pain caused by Evans’ pistol gouging his side, but remained silent.

“Where is she, Perry?” Jaxon demanded. His hand was now fully gripping his own holstered pistol.

“You’re in no position to demand anything, Jaxon. As I see it, I have all the control. Now, why don’t remove your pistol from its holster, slowly, and drop it to the floor?”

Jaxon stared intently into Evans’ eyes. He knew that his honed skill set was much stronger and more accurate than Evans’ was, and he was almost positive that he could draw on him, aim, and fire long before Evans could get a shot out himself. But it was the director’s life that would hang in the balance if he was wrong. Finally, Jaxon nodded slowly and followed Evans’ direction. He slipped the gun from his holster and dropped it to the floor.

“Now kick it away,” Evans demanded.

Jaxon did so, nudging it across the floor.

“Tell me, what gave me away? I know that Pablo would never disclose my identity.”