They'll Call It Treason (18 page)

January 30 at 9:25
a.m.
EST

Location Unknown

Abrams shoved the door open. The hinges creaked loudly as it swung inward. Stepping over the threshold, he found Ju-Long Li sitting at a small metal desk.

The dusty, dirt brown walls had been stripped of their content when the facility was abandoned years ago. The only remnant of its previous function were a few old tacks and staples that dotted the opposite wall and a large table.

Sean and his team had only brought the bare necessities. Two laptops rested on the table, wires streamed down the rear desk legs and into a wall plug. A set of plain metal chairs also occupied the space, one now taken by his counterpart, Ju-Long.

He was a short, slim man with smooth brown skin accenting his Chinese roots. Right now his dark brown eyes were aimed at Sean expectantly.

“So, how was she?” Ju-long asked with a childish grin.

Ignoring him, Abrams walked in and took a seat. A pleased smile skirted across his face.

“Good,” Abrams said licking his wounded lip. “Despite the fact that the bitch bit me… good.”

“Playful, huh?” Ju-long snickered like some high school buddy the morning after prom, playfully punching his classmate.

“Not sure that’s the right word for it,” Sean commented. “I don’t think we will be getting anything else out of her though,” Abrams said. “She’s strong, I’ll give her that. Stupid, but strong willed.”

He stopped for a moment, changing mental gears.

“It’s time to report in.”

Abrams waited as Ju-long reluctantly got up and walked out. The Council only trusted a few with direct communication and Sean was fortunate to be among the chosen. They were exceedingly careful.

Even with such secrecy and selectiveness, their reach was expansive. They had arms in nearly every level and aspect of society. The identity of fellow members was never revealed unless the work required multiple hands. Everyone served a purpose in whichever rung of the ladder they occupied. Other than himself the only operatives Sean knew were those in his small group. It kept them severable, expendable. It protected
Cerberus
, as some had come to call it, despite the Council’s efforts to keep the organization nameless.

              They moved the course of history, unseen. For some it was money, some power, others revenge or low-lying sadistic pleasures that pulled them in. It all led them to serve the will of the organization. Sean was interested in the power and the money.

Like the others, he had never met a member of the Council, the small group of elders that controlled the operations. No one ever saw the Council in person.

Even in his brutality Sean felt small and defenseless when he spoke to the Council. Their tactics where ruthless. If you outlived your usefulness or became a liability, the Council quickly disposed of you. One had to remain useful.

When Ethan escaped, Sean had experienced the wrath of the Council. He was hard-pressed to convince them he was not a liability, that he could find Ethan. He was most fortunate that the only consequence to his recent failures was to his future ambitions. Sean would have to earn back their favor before he could continue to ascend the ranks of Cerberus. Such failure was rarely countenanced without bloodshed.

The only thing that stood between Sean and a body bag was that Ethan had not prevented him from completing his primary mission in Atlanta. The troublesome Congressman was out of the scene now.

Congressman Burr had gathered substantial support for an amendment to the upcoming annual defense spending bill that was not in the organization’s interest. The bill had included massive funding cuts for private military contractors and drone operations in the continuing war in Afghanistan and Iraq. He had even threatened to filibuster the bill until all funding for the war in Syria was pulled.

Cerberus was heavily invested in the destabilization of the region. Sean could only guess which military supply CEOs benefited from and shaped those plans. The same plans which kept the blood flowing and their profits soaring.

Unfortunately, due to public sentiment, the tide was moving in the wrong direction. Sean had been ordered to follow and assess strategic political targets to both pave the way for more agreeable policy goals and to up the fear factor. The Congressman was the latest on his list.

Raising his secure satellite phone he dialed the Council. Even their number was unknown to him. The phone had been provided to him via a contact from the Council during his early days in the organization. He faintly remembered meeting the fellow operative, a grey-headed man puffing on a cigar in the park, just quickly enough to smell the cherry-rum smoke before setting off again. He never saw the man again.

The number was encrypted into the phone’s military-grade secure memory with an advanced algorithm, courtesy of DARPA, the U.S. government’s research and development division.

The phone rang. Sean took a breath and exhaled, purging his voice of any sign of weakness or fear before the Council answered.

The ringing stopped and several seconds of silence ensued. Sean waited, not wanting to seem too eager.

“You have news?” A deep synthesized voice came over the line.

Abrams forced himself to speak. “Yes. The doctor is a dead end. I don’t believe she knows anything.”

“Are
you
at a dead end, Mr. Abrams?” the voice replied without emotion.

“No, sir.” Sean assured the voice. “I’m still positive I can track down the target. We may even be able to use the doctor as bait.”

A long pause followed. Sean could hear a faint rhythmic vibration, breathing, on the other end seeping through the synthesizer. He waited.

“Good. Don’t harm her any further,” the voice ordered slowly. “Once you find the target do what you will with the woman, but be very sure that Shaw and his team are dead.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Shaw and his team escaped into the mountains just hours ago,” the voice stated.

“We want you to go to the cabin where they were hiding and see if you can find anything the FBI missed,” the voice instructed. “There may be some clue to suggest where they may have headed. If nothing else, we know they are in the North Carolina foothills. Just find them.”

“Yes sir,” Sean acknowledged as the line went dead.

January 30 at 9:30
a.m.
EST

Appalachian Mountains, North Carolina

The snow was coming down hard, blanketing the edge of the road. Visibility was a nightmare. The steep drop off unnerved Ethan, but now it was covered in white, nearly indistinguishable from the other features of the mountain. This was not where he wanted to be.

Only a sliver of the road ahead was visible through the onslaught of white. Fortunately, the roads had been salted in preparation and the Jeep managed to meander up the mountain with only a few slips.

Bundled tight, they struggled to fight off the cold wind whipping through the broken windows. Snow was even gathering inside the Jeep.

“So Agent Abrams was involved in the NC homicide case?” Gray asked, still trying to wrap his mind around it.

“Yes, it’s him,” Ethan confirmed. “And the man who killed the representative, I am almost positive he was the shooter in Georgia. He had the same tattoo on his neck and meets the height estimates.”

Gray shoved his head against the headrest and huffed in disbelief. “So you think he may be involved in more cases as well? But why? What is the motive?”

“I don’t know, but I plan to find out.” Keeping his eyes on the road Ethan continued, “Austin, can you get into the FBI’s system without them detecting you?”

“Sure can,” Austin said with a grin. He had helped secure the system, to make it impenetrable. Yet, the reality was that there was no such thing as an impenetrable computer system. Getting in undetected, at least for a while, would be a breeze for Austin. “What do you need?”

“I need to know more about Abrams. Did he have any assignments around Raleigh when the North Carolina rep was murdered,” Ethan paused to remember the date. “I believe it was April 16 of last year. I also want his history, anything you think is pertinent for us to know.”

“I’ll get what I can, but it has to be quick,” Austin confirmed.

Staving off the cold, Ethan continued to push the Jeep through the thickening snow. The flakes had lightened over the past couple minutes. Ethan hoped the trend would continue and they could quicken their pace.

Expanses of weighty snow covered branches bordered either side of the road now as the mountainside disappeared behind them. A few large boulder like rocks sat next to the roadway next to a low grey rock face to their left. The road had apparently been dug out years before during the revamping of the road system. Sprigs of brown mountain field grass peeked through the otherwise white forest floor.

Twenty minutes passed before anyone said another word. Shivering from the cold.

“How close are we Gray?” Ethan asked.

Gray looked down at the crinkled map in front of him, trying to estimate their distance from the rendezvous point. After a few seconds Gray looked up and at Ethan.

“Looks to be between another one to ten miles…” Gray said with a grin on his face, “Seriously I can’t tell. We’ve had to go so slow, and there are no real landmarks to track it by. I mean everything is white. Even if there were landmarks, I doubt I could make them out on the map. We could be close, or not.”

“Nice,” Ethan said, half irritated, half amused. “Well, the snow’s lightening up it seems. Hopefully we can speed up our pace soon.”

The snow had diminished to a flurry and promised to dwindle further. Ahead Ethan swore he saw quick movements. Then a square structure. He stained his eyes, trying to peer through the white fog.

“Gray, I think we may be closer than you thought,” Ethan said, pointing ahead.

Squinting, Gray examined the road up ahead as they moved closer.
Thank God!
It was the intersection they had been looking for. Pulling up they took the next road and found the gas station just as it was positioned on the map.

“There it is,” Gray said, pointing to the gas station ahead.

“See,” Ethan joked, “these old maps are worth something after all.”

Gray just smirked, clearly not as pleased with the experience.

“There’s Dante,” Gray said.

Near the end of the small country station sat Dante’s Camaro. From a distance and through the white flakes the car look to be in pristine shape. Pulling up next to the car revealed a broken rear window to match their own and bullet holes and scratches peppering the side.

Gray did a quick visual check around the area as they parked next to Dante. All looked good. It would not remain that way, there were sure to be drones searching the area already.

As Ethan brought the Jeep to a standstill, Dante leaned out of the Camaro, a black piece of cloth wrapped around his shoulder. Gray jumped out to check on his friend.

“You okay man?”

“I’m good, it’s just a flesh wound, nothing I can’t handle,” Dante assured him waving him off.

“Join the club,” Gray joked.

Joined by the others, Gray walked around the Camaro inspecting the damage.

“Looks like they tore your
baby
to shreds,” Gray jeered.

With a heavy sigh Dante replied, “Yeah, and they ended up becoming one with a boulder because of it too.”

Ethan wanted to find the humor but he could not bring himself to it. He eyed the Camaro. Of the two vehicles, the Jeep had taken the least damage, and they needed to stay together. He would not ask them to separate again.

“Dante, it would be best if we left the Camaro. We need—”

Dante cut him, “I know. I don’t think she would make it much further now anyway. I think a bullet hit the radiator.”

“Alright. We need to get moving.”

January 30 at 8:00
p.m.
EST

Appalachian Mountains, North Carolina

Dante yawned as he guided the Jeep around a rocky bend. Clouds overhead all but blotted out the winter moon’s light, leaving the forest shadowed in black. Only the path ahead was visible in the Jeep’s headlights.

For the past hour they had traveled on uneven gravel roads, not an inch of pavement in sight. Barren tree limbs hung across the way like drooping skeletons, further obscuring the moonlight. A layer of snow covered everything around them. The dangerous combination of ice and hard packed snow on the road made it difficult for Dante to maintain traction.

He had switched places with Gray three hours earlier. The two of them shared the reigns while Ethan and Austin caught some sleep in the back.

For at least an hour the only sign of activity outside the Jeep had been the occasional “suicidal rabbit,” as Dante had termed them. Most people had the good sense not to be on these roads in such weather.

“Don’t be yawning now, you’ve only got a little longer,” Gray poked at Dante, “then we’ll switch out and get some shut eye.”

“I’m awake,” Dante replied, yawning again. After a pause, he remarked, “Man, it seems so surreal. A mole in the Bureau.”

Dante had always known it was within the realm of possibility.  But now that it had hit so close to home, the reality was hard to accept.

“I know,” Gray commiserated. “And all we can do is run with our tail between our legs.”

“I’ve been thinking about that.  How do we plan on getting out of all this? I mean, there‘s only so much we can do before they catch up with us.”

Gray did not answer. He turned and looked out into the surrounding blackness.
What can we do?

“And Kate. What will happen to her?”

Gray dropped his head, a surge of emotions welling up inside him: regret, shame, failure.

“I don’t know,” his voice was quiet.

Dante reached over and reassuringly placed a hand on Gray’s shoulder. “You did all you could, Gray. We all know that. Ethan knows that. I didn’t mean to suggest anything else.”

Gray faced Dante long enough to nod, then turned back to his window. His mind raced back to the crash in Greensboro. Waking up dangling from his safety belt, head smashed against the ceiling. Blood dripping into a watery pool. Kate gone.
I failed.

For a moment neither spoke.

Gray shivered and tightened his grip on his jacket. Without a windshield they were forced to battle the cold billows of snow that rushed into the cabin. After hours in the cold their jackets were failing to keep them insulated.

Ahead Gray caught a glimpse of red reflecting in the blustery wind. He leaned forward and squinted, focusing. As the Jeep moved closer, he could make out a waist-high, snow-covered rock column with a large white and red sign hanging from its side, flopping back and forth.

The wind ripped and yanked at the sign, making it impossible to read. It stilled for moment and Gray managed a glimpse at the words stenciled on the sign.

Foreclosed: Home for Sale
.

“Let’s check it out,” Gray told Dante, pointing toward the column ahead.

Dante nodded his head and pulled the Jeep off the main road, into the snow-covered driveway. Like the main road, the path ahead was overhung by tall, barren trees and a few overgrown bushes, all topped with snow.

The Jeep jerked along, pushing through ruts and slick spots in the gravel driveway. Ahead Gray could only see more trees and snow. He looked back as the main road was enveloped in black. As he turned back around he saw Austin, his head awkwardly craned back and his mouth wide open. Gray grinned at the sight.

“Looks like it’s just ahead,” Dante said as the tree line dropped away, revealing a small house. A piece of gutter pipe hung from the roof, tapping against the house’s white vinyl siding. Black shutters bordered two lonely windows along the front of the house to either side of the entrance.

“Hey, guys,” Gray reached back and shook Ethan’s shoulder. “Get up. I think we found a place to stay for the night.”

Ethan groggily came to, rubbing the sleep from his eyes, and peered out the window. Yawning, he nodded and woke Austin, who jerked up as though he’d been punched.

“It’s okay, Austin,” Ethan assured him with a grin. “We’ve found a place to stay.”

“Oh… Okay.”

“Let’s check it out before we get too excited,” Gray recommended.

They disembarked the Jeep, and each man stiffly got to his feet, trying to keep their jackets secured in place.  Austin and Ethan were still working the drowsiness from their bodies as Gray led the way with a flashlight, showing the path to the front door. As he mounted the small concrete step, Gray tested the door handle.

“It’s locked,” he informed them.

“
Really
?” Gray asked sarcastically. “You did read the sign, right? Foreclosed.”

“Shut up,” Dante mumbled.

Ethan grinned lightly. That was more like the Gray and Dante he knew.

“Well, there are no cars or any signs of anyone here. I mean it is foreclosed, right?” Austin pointed out.

“Yes,” Ethan agreed. He turned to walk to one of the side windows, “Maybe we can check the—”

Suddenly there was a loud bang followed by the sound of cracking wood. Ethan whirled back around, his hand went for his pistol, only to see Dante putting his foot back to the ground. The giant smiled from ear to ear, next to the now open door.

“—windows,” Ethan finished.

“After you?” Dante offered, jokingly pointing them through the entrance.

“That’s one way of doing it,” Austin commented. “Maybe not the brightest way, but a way.”

“Excuse me Mr. Computer Nerd,” Dante retorted, still grinning proudly. Austin returned the smile and walked through the entrance.

“Would a window not have sufficed?” Ethan asked, half amused, half irritated.

“Nah, Hulk here thought smashing would be more fun,” Gray joked, punching Dante playfully in the shoulder.

Dutifully playing along Dante grunted “Hulk smash!”

Ethan chuckled and patted Dante on the shoulder as he walked by.  “Always the show off, huh?”

With a chuckle, Dante followed Ethan inside. Gray’s flashlight beam revealed pale yellow walls. They were bare, except for a few tiny black dots where pictures must have hung. The hardwood floors creaked as Ethan and his friends walked into what must have been the living area.

A small, brick fireplace was at the far end of the room, oddly empty and cold looking. Dust caked the wooden mantel and the baseboards that lined the foot of the walls. No one had lived here for some time.

To the left of the fireplace was an open doorway. They moved through it and reached a hallway.

“Dante, Austin. How about you two check out that end of the house and Gray and I will check out the rest?” Ethan suggested.

Dante nodded and took off down the hall with Austin close behind. Ethan continued on into the next empty room, flipping the switch on his own flashlight. A flood of light bathed the room.

He was taken off guard by an object near his head.  With relief, he saw it was just a low hanging chandelier, built out of two crude pieces of log in the shape of a cross.  Old-fashioned glass lanterns dangled from each of its four ends. On the left, a range of cabinets lined the wall, interrupted by a stovetop and an empty gap where a refrigerator had once stood.

Gray moved to the corner of the kitchen and looked out the window. The snow was falling lightly again, swept by the wind into swirling loops. A hint of moonlight revealed a small, lifeless back yard lined by more barren trees. A door set by the open space that used to host the refrigerator, leading outside.

The room was clear. Ethan flipped a light switch near the hallway. Nothing happened, as expected.
I can dream, right?

“Well, it’s definitely vacant. No power,” Ethan tried to joked.

“You expected there to be power?” Gray asked, his left eyebrow raised. “You guys need to step up your game a little?”

Ethan waved him off with a playful smirk. “It’s the best we can do for now.”

On cue Dante and Austin ambled into the room. “All’s clear on the other end. How about here?” Dante asked.

“All’s good. Let’s get what we need and settle down for the night,” Ethan advised.

In agreement, they walked back outside into the snowy wind. Austin gathered his computer and a small bag of supplies. Gray rummaged through the trunk looking for anything they may need for the night.  He grabbed a large duffle bag of supplies they had picked up at the gas station earlier in the day and followed Austin back to the house.

Dante grabbed a rifle from the Jeep and threw a small backpack of his own supplies over his shoulder. “I’m going to check the perimeter. See if there are any good routes out other than the main driveway in case we need them.”

“Okay, don’t be gone long though,” Ethan instructed and watched Dante jog away along the tree line. A chill ran up his spine. He pulled his jacket close, trying to hold in what little body heat he had left.

He bent over and picked up a small bundle of twine-wrapped firewood they had bought from one of the locals out of the back of his truck. Coming from the city, Ethan had thought the tall, grisly of a man’s, cardboard sign and truck tailgate setup was unusual. It would be freezing later though, so he gave in; it could not have been over ten degrees in the house, colder outside.

As Ethan lugged the wood back to the house, he passed Gray, who was coming back to the car to help carry in the wood. Neither spoke; they just glanced at each other in passing, both anxious and lost in thought.

Ethan pushed the worry away as he stepped through the front door and stomped the snow from his shoes. He walked past Austin, who was in the corner setting up his laptop, and placed the wood next to the fireplace.

“Are you going to have enough power to use that here?” Ethan asked Austin, placing another log in the pit.

“I brought some backup batteries, and this thing lasts a good while anyway. We’ll be fine.”

As Ethan placed the last log atop the others, Gray hauled in an arm load of wood and placed it next to the fireplace.

“That’s the last of the firewood,” Gray said worriedly. “You think it’ll be enough?”

“I hope so.” Ethan shook his head.

He grabbed a newspaper and the pack of matches from the duffel bag sitting in the corner. Crumbing the paper, Ethan set the edge on fire.  He gently laid the burning paper on the wood and watched. After a few moments, the wood caught fire and the blaze slowly took off.

Its warmth radiated out, pressing against Ethan’s cold cheeks.  He sighed as the cold in his hands and body dissipated. He closed his eyes and drank in the revitalizing heat.  Gray and Austin both joined him beside the fire. They sat in silence, losing themselves in the balmy heat.

“Nice, y’all got the fire going!” Dante exclaimed as he stomped inside, slamming the door behind him and shoving a bag against the frame to keep it closed. “I gotta say, I wasn’t so sure you could do it.”

“Thanks for the confidence there, Dante,” Ethan chuckled. “Come on over and get warm.”

Ethan walked away from the fire, testing its reach. As long as the door remained shut, he figured the fire could warm the entire room. Hoping he was right, Ethan shed his jacket and gloves.

“Austin, do you still think you can access the information we need on Abrams?” Ethan asked.

“I’m almost done breaking into the system now,” Austin informed him with a grin, proud of his handiwork. “Just remember, no matter how stealthy I may get in, we can’t stay in the system long or they’ll track us down.”

“Understood. We’ll just get the info and get out.”

“Alright, I’m in.”

Ethan took a seat on the floor next to Austin and peered over his shoulder at the screen.  He was soon joined by Dante and Gray. Lines of information and options covered the screen, accompanied by the familiar logo of the Bureau, the golden stars, the red and white flag below the scale of justice. The Agency motto—
Fidelity, Bravery, Integrity
—was superimposed over a blue background.

“Okay, we need to know everything we can about Agent Sean Abrams,” Ethan instructed.

Austin’s hands went to work. Commands shot by as his fingers poked key after key. Within seconds they were staring at Agent Abrams’ file.

Ethan could not drag his eyes away from the photo next to Abrams’s biographical information. The tanned skin, icy blue eyes, thick brown hair and rugged jawline of the man who had framed him in Atlanta. He remembered thinking that Abrams looked more like an actor than an agent when he first met him; maybe he hadn’t been too far off the mark.

“Sean T. Abrams, born August 16, 1977 in Beaufort, South Carolina,” Austin started, reading off the information on the screen. “His dad was a maintenance tech. Died of a drug overdose when Abrams was five. His mom died in a car accident. Looks like he was two when it happened.”