Project Sparta (The Xander Whitt Series Book 1) (24 page)

He looked down the corridor of the maze and scanned the alleyways around him. Then he heard a great deal of activity coming from what seemed to be the central chamber in the distance. He couldn’t see much, but was able to visualize the room and distinguish four Spartans fighting within.

The remaining Spartans have all gravitated to that central chamber. I can take them all out… But I will need to come in fast if I am going to come in at all.

Xander then turned his attention to the shift of the Box. He knew that in thirty seconds he would be free falling toward the central chamber. He didn’t know if it was his gut or his genius, but he knew there was only one thing that he could do. Xander climbed to his feet and looked down the long, seemingly endless alleyway to his right.

Here goes nothing.

Xander began sprinting as fast as he could in the opposite direction of the central chamber. The floor came up, making Xander run uphill. The Box continued to spin and just as he had planned, he began to free fall when the floor turned up completely under his feet.

He was flying like a rocket, headfirst. The flight seemed to go by in slow motion as Xander positioned his hand near his right thigh and pulled out the two grenades. He bit the pins out as he approached the central chamber. There as expected were the last four Spartans in a fire fight. Xander emerged through an explosion of sparks and into the central chamber. He turned and chucked the grenades at either wall, leaving them behind as he sped forward.

And just like that, Xander was through the chamber and falling through the opposite alley.

An explosion went off and sparks showered over Xander from the central chamber above him.

Xander knew the rotation would pull up a wall soon, giving him friction to slow his descent. He just hoped that the Box would turn fast enough to catch him.

The rotation of the cube slowly began to bring the floor up underneath Xander as he tumbled toward the end of the Box. The bottom grew larger in his sight. Xander’s eyes widened as he slid through the hallway toward a dead end.

His speed was slowing, bit by bit.

He didn’t know if he would make it.

He pressed his back, hands, and feet against the wall, which was turning up, in an attempt to gather as much friction as possible, but he was not slowing fast enough. His end was coming. He remembered Hardy’s words upon his arrival—that he could die in the Compound.

And so it seemed he would as he braced himself for impact.

Then he started to feel his own weight again.

The rotation began slowing him considerably as he approached the bottom of the Box. He began skidding on the new floor beneath him. Sparks from his suit showered off either side of him like a brake locking on a speeding wheel. Xander had almost come to a complete stop when he hit the wall. The force was minimal but enough to drain the rest of Xander’s suit’s charge. As his vision faded to black, he heard the faraway sound of Anni’s simulated voice.

“Duke, Jooles, and Ashton have been eliminated. Congratulations, Xander, you are the winner.”

The Box shut down and so did Xander.

Chapter 44

Alexandria, VA

July 4
th
2016

A storage facility door opened like the shutters of a New York shop opening for business. The rivets tumbled up into the ceiling to reveal a storage unit filled with everything a black operative could possibly need. Xander had surgical equipment, explosives, drugs for sting operations, and, above all else, a full armory of firearms. An assortment of semiautomatic rifles and pistols lined the walls, hung on a pegboard. A table held a variety of explosives and firearm modifications, both on and off the market.

At the sight of the arsenal, Seamus shrugged with a suppressed awe.

“Don’t act like you’re not impressed,” Xander said over his shoulder as they entered the storage unit.

“I’ve seen better…”

Xander threw two duffel bags down on the table and started filling them with everything they could possibly need from the arsenal. He approached a large rifle on the far wall with a scope and a long barrel. He took it off of its pegs and disassembled it in a few quick motions so it could fit it into his bag.

Both his and Seamus’s phones dinged.

It was an email from Axle.

The subject line read,
Duke has been found.

Seamus quickly opened the email and read the message aloud. “‘I know this complicates your search for Agent Zero, but the attached picture was recovered in a set of hacked documents from an online terrorist network.’”

Seamus punched the attachment open and gasped at what he saw: it was the picture of Duke with a bullet hole in his head.

“Duke is dead?” Seamus wondered aloud. Xander stared off in the distance.

“That means Agent Zero is one of us. Unless…”

“Go ahead and tell me what I already know…” Xander’s head dropped.

“If it’s not Duke, don’t you think Fiona could…”

“Could be back?” Xander grew aggressive at the suggestion. “Yeah she could be! But we aren’t going to be able to find her unless she wants to be found. We’ve been looking for the last five years. She’s a ghost!” Xander huffed a breath.

“You need to stop blaming yourself, Xander. There is no way you could have known she was a double,” Seamus implored.

“You don’t know the half of it…” Xander’s voice again trailed. Seamus stepped forward.

“Well then why don’t you tell me dammit! We all don’t live in your genius brain Xander—”

“I was ordered to investigate her in the Compound!” The yelling stopped as the admission continued. “When I was in the Compound, Rearden came to me and told me to monitor Fiona’s movements because they suspected her of possibly being a mole. And so for almost the entirety of the program I was watching her. Hell, I even had surveillance in her house! But I couldn’t see it, I was blinded. I fell for her. It clouded my judgment and she escaped! I am to blame for this…” Seamus stepped forward as a friend and placed his hand on Xander’s shoulder.

“I don’t blame you for a second, Xander. We will find Agent Zero, whether it’s Fiona or not. And we will stop this attack.” Seamus locked eyes with Xander and offered a slight nod of the head. Xander’s emotions simmered as the storage unit, reached a calm.

“You know if you ever need to talk to someone…” Seamus continued. “I know a great shrink!”

Xander burst out in undeniable laughter. Seamus smiled, seeing his friend back up on his horse.

“Sometimes I can’t believe Hardy recruited you.” Xander playfully shook his head. They gathered their duffels and left as quickly as they had arrived.

«————————»

Inside his white Georgetown mansion, Hardy gulped down a second cognac on the rocks. He looked at his watch, the gold one he had received from his friend, the vice president, and noticed he was only twenty minutes behind schedule. A faint blue stretched across the sky as twilight descended on the city. He knew it was time to dress himself for another night of pageantry and parties. He stumbled up a couple of stairs, using the handrail a little more than usual. Laid out on his bed was his best tuxedo. He began dressing and couldn’t help but ponder the Spartan operation currently underway.

He looked in the mirror and tied his bowtie. It was crooked; he’d fix it later. He hurried downstairs after throwing his hair to one side with the stroke of a hand. On the counter sat a single square of fine cardstock. It was an ornately decorated invitation. And impressed on the back of it, a logo of a sun.

He strolled outside and plopped in the back seat of a sleek, black Lincoln town car. The driver closed the door behind him and drove off toward the Fourth of July festivities at the Smithsonian that night.

Chapter 45

The Compound

June 11
th
2011

Xander awoke in a white room, aching. The fluorescent lights reflected off the tile and walls so brightly it took his squinting eyes a long minute to adjust. The blurred figure of Dr. Rodgers approached with a clipboard.

“Wakey, wakey!”

“Hey, Doc,” Xander rasped. Dr. Rodgers was in a good mood today. He had a bounce in his step, similar to a kid on the last day of school. Rodgers’s hand came up to his cheek to channel a whisper toward Xander.

“Off the record, that was a pretty amazing battle, Xander. A triple tag? Unbelievable.” Word had spread of Xander’s daring dive through the central chamber.

“Thanks,” Xander said as he eased his body into a sitting position. As his vision improved, a relieving sight came to view—Fiona was in the bed across the room from him. She appeared to be asleep, her red hair splayed out over the pillow.

“Don’t you want to know the results?” the doctor asked emphatically. Xander’s eyes didn’t leave Fiona, as he was now her protector.

“Oh yeah, sure…”

“You won, Xander! You got the most points for the year. That triple tag gave you sixty points alone.” The doctor seemed taken aback by Xander’s lack of interest.

“Oh good.” The doctor deflated at Xander’s uninterested response. “What are my injuries?”

“You reaggravated your ribs. So much so, in fact, that you lacerated your kidney. It’s not too serious. You have only been unconscious a few hours. I am going to keep you under watch tonight.”

Xander nodded, hoping that a silent response would expedite the conclusion of the conversation. The doctor noticed him looking over at Fiona.

“She’s not doing so well. Concussion, broken clavicle, and three broken ribs,” Dr. Rodgers said. Xander’s guilt crept in on him. “She’ll be okay, just a long recovery. I know you didn’t mean to do that to her. After all, how were you supposed to know the hallway would drop out?”

But Xander had known and he’d done it anyway. The point was to immobilize her, keeping her from her house where he was sure C-4 chargers were waiting.

«————————»

Midnight struck. Although the night nurse thought Xander had been asleep for the last three hours, he’d been lying in wait. He had tracked her movements all night and knew that she would be exiting the Infirmary momentarily for her lunch break. Xander looked to the top corner of the room. There was the one surveillance camera attached to the ceiling, angled down to Fiona’s bed. It was the only camera in the Compound, used in case of medical emergencies. The camera would come in handy. She hadn’t moved; she was in a deep slumber while her body repaired itself. Xander heard the nurse’s footsteps approach the door of the Infirmary and the door shut behind her.

Now is my chance.

Xander shot up from bed, ignoring the pang shooting through his chest from his ribs. He marched through the Infirmary and began his preparations.

Xander wheeled the rattling cart through the room and positioned it next to Fiona’s bedside. He retrieved the restraints from the surgical table in the adjacent ICU room and brought them over to her bedside. He tied them to the frame of the bed and gently fed Fiona’s good hand through them, strapping it down tight. Her other arm hung in a sling, as her collarbone was fractured. Xander remained calmed and methodical as he carried out what he had been mentally rehearsing all evening.

He had heard the jingling of medicine containers in a far cabinet. He swung open the glass door and rummaged through the cabinet until he found what he needed: adrenaline. Xander took a fresh syringe and sucked up the contents from the vile. He approached Fiona’s bed.

Sorry, babe, but I’m going to need you awake for this.

The needle lowered.

Pierced the skin.

The plunger pressed.

The barrel emptied.

The adrenaline dispersed throughout her body and flowed with her blood until it was pumped into the heart. She shot upright, screaming. Every vein in her body bulged and her eyes widened as the shock consumed her body. She thrashed in her restraints, constrained but raving.

“What the hell are you doing, Xander?” she yelled through short breaths. She seized about, trying to find an escape from the surges of energy that repeatedly animated her limbs. Sweat flooded from her pores and soaked her infirmary robe.

“Listen, Fiona,” he whispered, careful to not be audible for the camera. “Listen very carefully. I know you have been tracking my movements for Hardy. You have been burned and now they are trying to kill you.” She continued to thrash, but something in her eye told him that she understood. His steady hand prepped the instruments laid out on the tray before him.

“What are you talking about?” she gasped.

“I am going to break you out of here. I have a plan but you have to trust me.” He brought up a pair of pliers, which shined in the light as he inspected it.

“Xander, what are you doing?” she pleaded breathlessly again.

“Good. Keep it up, we are on camera.” Xander arched his brows and looked up with his eyes only, referencing the camera behind him. “Why have you been tracking me?” he yelled for the camera with an intimidating demeanor.

Fiona was intense and confused. “What the hell are you doing?”

His voice became soft again. “I said I am going to break you out of here. We are going to leave the Compound tonight.”

“What? Are you insane, Xander?” Every vein in Fiona pulsated as the adrenaline coursed its way through her body.

“They are going to blow up your house, Fiona.” His voice dropped to a plea. “They are trying to kill you. Because you failed in your recon of me. ‘Death is the only discharge,’ remember?” His eyes connected with Fiona’s as a realization came over her face: she understood. Fiona nodded slightly and then spoke up for the camera.

“I don’t know what you are talking about. Please don’t hurt me!” She started to act up, as well, adopting her role in the ruse.

“Good,” Xander said softly. “You have to know that I am not going to hurt you. I am going to draw them out, and once they are here, we will make our move.” She nodded with great difficulty.

“Why have you been spying on me?” he yelled. He picked up a scalpel from the table, slowly raised it, and twisted it in the light, making sure the instrument was visible on camera.

Her eyes darted into the corner of the room. Her expression pleaded with the camera.

“Help me! Hardy, you hear me! Get down here now!” The nurse opened the door and horror seized her face. She turned and ran for help immediately.

“Oh, Hardy? Go ahead, tell me he was involved—tell me what I already know!” Xander shouted. Fiona winced and her teeth gritted down. Tears streamed down her face as she played it up and dealt with the effects of the adrenaline surging through her veins.

“Do you trust me?” Xander whispered. She nodded. Xander noticed that there was an unconditional trust present, something only present in someone’s love.

“I can’t tell you, I swear it’s not what you think, Xander!” she cried in terror for the camera, as Xander spread her fingers out on the table.

“I’m sorry, Fiona.” His emotion broke through. “But I have to know the truth, and I will know the truth by the time I’m done with you.” He raised the scalpel in his closed fist and then struck down toward her hand.