They'll Call It Treason (25 page)

January 31 at 8:02
p.m.
EST

Winchester, VA

The open space stunk of rotting wood. Yet, Gray preferred the stench to the blizzard outside. He soaked in the heat, sighing quietly.

Gray had found an unlocked side entrance on one of the old semi-trailers still hooked up to one of the offloading bay doors. He had escaped the brutal sleet and wind through a metal side-door. The trailer was mostly empty beside a few abandoned cardboard boxes and a wooden crate near the back. Back in the day it must have been full of light bulbs, but now the space stood mostly void.

Gray retrieved his pistol, holding it low and ready as he hastily covered the length of the trailer. The dock opened into a dark empty space about twenty yards wide. Squinting, Gray made out a few rows of crates lining the south wall and a series of doors dotting the eastern and northern walls. The expanse between walls was monstrous. From the facility's blueprints Gray assumed it had served as the warehouse’s primary loading bay before it had been abandoned. Now it was stark and empty.

“Alright Austin, I’m in,” Gray whispered. “I’ve got two doors on the northern wall and one on the eastern wall.”

Gray waited as Austin apparently studied the map. He knew Austin was trying to postulate where Ethan was being taken based on his current movements. Gray waited, trying to be patient.

“Um…” Austin muttered, “Take the right most door on the northern wall. It opens up to a forked hallway. Take the right fork.”

“Copy that. Moving out.”

Gray took a final glance around the empty room and then stepped out of the trailer and onto a cement floor. He kept to the edge of the room, pistol low and ready, eyes darting back and forth across the room, Gray passed the first door.

He came to a stop by the door and whispered a prayer before turning the knob. A quiet click sounded as the bolt left its home and he cracked the door open and peeked in.

Other than a faint flickering glow from an old florescent light and a small water puddle, the hall was empty from his vantage point. Gray pulled the door open enough to slide through and entered the hallway. He scanned carefully as he moved forward.

“Gray, Ethan has made contact with Abrams. I think I have his final position now,” Austin informed him, his voice uneasy.

“Go ahead,” Gray said, trying to keep his emotions at bay.

“About four yards ahead of you there is a hallway that breaks off to your right. Pass it and follow the hall as it turns left about another twenty yards down.”

“Got it,” Gray confirmed and continued walking. Ahead he could see the first hallway. The steady dripping of a leaky ceiling into a lone puddle echoed further ahead.

Slowing as he closed in on the hallway, he caught a quiet ruffling noise. Then again. Footsteps.

He froze just beyond the hallway, listening. A voice echoed quietly down the hall, then another. He could not make out what they were saying, but it seemed they were unaware of his presence. Good.

Raising his pistol, Gray took a deep breath, and slowly edged his eye around the corner. About fifteen yards down the hall stood two men, decked out in black and armed with what he thought looked like AR-15s.

The echo of the halls made the men seem closer to him. Pistol aimed and ready, Gray quietly passed the intersection and moved on unseen.

Around the corner, Gray could hear the sound of another leak dripping from the tiled roof. He stopped at the turn in the hallway once again edging outward to check around the bend. Empty.

“Alright, take the third door on the right,” Austin decided. “It leads into a larger room, maybe an old storage room. I’m going to take you through a few rooms, bypass the hallways, and hopefully get you to Ethan quicker.”

“Copy that,” Gray confirmed as quietly as he could.

Gray stepped carefully, closing the distance between him and his objective. Carefully he turned the doorknob and pushed without a sound. He stepped into the room, gun sweeping the area.

The room seemed clear. Large metal racks lined the right wall stacked with boxes of old parts that the company had left behind. He peered around the racks before moving silently navigating among the boxes.

Abruptly he felt something slam into his wrist, knocking his Glock from his grip. The weapon clanged to the ground as a fist crashed into his cheekbone, knocking him back.

Gray rebounded from the sudden attack. His eyes darted between the new figure in the room and the Glock lying on the ground. He lunged forward, narrowly missing another blow, and struck the man deep under his stomach, wrapping his free arm around the figure’s waist. He let out a fury of punches into the same location, inducing a moan of pain from the shadowy figure.

A knee to his chest shoved the air from his lungs. He stumbled back, gasping to get his breath back. This time he locked eyes with his opponent. Dark brown, almost black in the low-lit room, high cheekbones outlining a middle-aged face. His expression was stoic.

“Gray, you’ll need to take the double doors at the opposite end of the room,” Austin said.

Gray brought his fists up and swung. The man blocked the punch with his left arm and sent a fist crashing into Gray’s jaw. He grunted as a barrage of punches pinned him against the metal racks. The guard’s face remained emotionless, pounding away like it was practice.

“Gray,” Austin called over the headset. “Why’d you stop? You need to keep going.”

Gray had no time to respond. Suddenly the man grabbed him by the collar, picking Gray off the ground and slamming him into the metal racks again. Pain rushed up his side as he crumpled to the ground.

He groaned, trying to shake off the throbbing. A faint glint of light caught Gray’s attention as it shot toward him. Mechanically he threw his body to the side and grabbed the guard’s hand as the knife rushed toward his face. Wrenching his body backward he forced the knife out of the man’s grasp. It clanked to the floor.

Gray hauled himself back to his feet and sprinted forward. He wrapped his arms around the man’s waist and plowed him back into the wall. Gray heard the man huff as the air fled from his lungs. He stepped back and brought his knee sharply into the man’s stomach.

He seemed oblivious to the blows once he regained his breath. Throwing his weight forward he shoved Gray back. Gray stumbled backward as a fist slammed across his face, followed by a steady barrage of punches to the chest.

This is not an even match.

Gray darted his eyes around searching for the pistol between blows and grunts. He found it lying on the ground ten feet away. It was too far, but his opponent had already got the message.

The guard bolted forward to snatch the pistol. Gray lunged forward and charged into his side, wrapping his arms around him from behind, knocking the guard off balance. Violently they slammed against the racks and crashed to the floor. Gray grunted as the man’s full weight came down on to him.

“Gray?” Austin called out again. “Are you alright?”

“Sort of busy,” Gray wasted no time. The guard jerked forward, reaching out for the pistol just a foot out of his grasp. Gray wrapped his arms around the man’s throat putting him in a tight headlock.

Gray squeezed hard around his neck as the man tried to pull his chin down to keep the air flowing. Gasping for air, the guard ceased his attempt to reach the pistol. Instead, he thrashed back and forth, piercing his elbows into Gray’s sides. Gray winced with each blow, but held his grip firm. His life depended on it.

Leaning back painfully over a steel rack, Gray constricted his arm around the man’s neck; his mind oblivious to the man’s kicking and rasping for air. Pain flared in his sides. Without thinking Gray lightened his grip.

The guard did not hesitate, slipping just enough to get his chin between Gray’s arms and away from his neck. He gasped for a full breath as Gray tightened his grip precariously just under the man’s nose and ear. He clinched his arm tight around the man’s face. His other arm aimlessly pounded away at the man’s chest.

Suddenly Gray felt a deep sting in his arm. He growled in pain, the bastard had bit him. Reflexively loosening his grip, the man slipped a little closer to the pistol. Gray tightened his grip again, lunging forward just enough to get his arm over the guard’s cheek. He made certain to avoid the bite of his teeth again.

Desperate for the weapon, the guard reached out for the pistol. Gray held tight, only able to watch and hold firm as the guard’s fingers stretched out. His fingertips reached a mere inch away from the pistol’s barrel. Sweat poured down Gray’s cheeks. Slowly the man slid from his grasp.

Gray focused his fist on the man’s throat, pounding again and again. The guard continued reaching for the gun in spite of the pain, his finger grazing the edge of the barrel. Gray beat harder, putting all his energy behind his fist.

The guard grunted with each hit, his breath coming harder. He pulled his hand back, no longer focused on the pistol, wrenching back and forth. Gray continued to pummel his throat without pardon.

Without warning the man's throat caved under Gray's fist. The guard gasped, his mouth wide, begging for air. He panicked for air. Gray continued to pound relentlessly.

The guard fought futilely for one last breath, his body writhing in agony and fear. Gray’s fist pounded again and again. Eyes wide and horrified, the guard stopped moving, his arms flopped limply to the ground.

Gray continued to pound, his body tense, adrenaline racing.

“Gray?” Austin called again. Gray snapped out of his adrenaline-induced fury. He paused, realizing the man was not moving. He let himself take in a deep breath and release his grip on the lifeless head. The guard’s face fell flaccid to the side. Gray pushed the dead body off his chest and onto the floor.

It no longer mattered how close he was to the pistol.

“Gray?” Austin called once more, his voice quieter, worried.

Gray starred down at the body. He had seen combat, fought at a distance. He had even talked down criminals in a standoff, but he had never killed a man with his hands. He shuddered, only now fully realizing what had happened. The necessity of the moment, the need to survive overriding everything else.

“Gray? Are you there?”

“Uh... Yeah. I… I’m here,” Gray stuttered, breathing heavily into the microphone. His voice shook, “I… uh… I was just a little busy.” He paused, settling himself. “Where were we? Double doors at the end of the room, right?”

“Yeah, that’s right,” Austin confirmed, trying to hide the worry in his voice.

Gray jumped to his feet, forcing himself to focus on the mission. He stepped over the body and plucked his Glock from the floor.

“On my way.”

January 31 at 8:05
p.m.
EST

Winchester, VA

The desire to break free pulsed through Ethan with every step. It was unnatural to allow them to carry him away. Against every instinct he obeyed.

The stink of rotting wood had become less poignant, but it was still there. The soles of his shoes were wet from the puddles littering the hallway floors. His heart raced. He could not decide whether it was the thought of freeing Kate or the fear of going into the lion’s den unarmed that stimulated his heart to pound.

Finally, they came to a halt outside a brown door. It was not unlike the many others that dotted the hallway, but this one was different. The shorter guard entered while the taller guard’s rifle encouraged Ethan to follow. He obeyed and stepped into a darkly lit room.  A small desk set to the edge of the room, and a lone tack board hung from the wall. The guards stopped by another door.

“Sir, permission to bring in your guest?” The guard with the limp spoke into his headset. Ethan assumed permission had been granted as the guard pushed the door open. With a shove, the other guard pushed him forward with the rifle, “Move.”

Stepping forward Ethan entered a larger open space. It was better lit than the rest of the building, but the stench was stronger. Ethan crinkled his nose at the smell as he searched the room for Kate. His eyes landed squarely on Sean Abrams, standing in the center of the room, a smile lining his lips.

His eyes locked onto Abrams for a moment, glaring with hate, and then shot across the room to another familiar face. The shooter. Ethan took a quick glance at his neck where the dagger tattoo sat along his neck. He glared at the man, recording the Asian's deep brown eyes in his mind. The man returned his stare without flinching.

There was no sign of Kate.

“Welcome Ethan,” Sean greeted him slyly.

“Where’s Kate?” Ethan barked, louder than he had intended. Worry crowded his chest.

“Oh, don’t worry Ethan.” Sean assured him and stepped to the side revealing Kate strapped to a metal chair, her mouth taped shut.

Ethan’s heart dropped. Her face was marred by a bluish bruise just above her left cheekbone, her eyes stained with tears. A part of him went numb while another willed him to jerk forward to action. Against every impulse he stood his ground. He hated himself for not being there for her when she had needed him most.

“Kate…” He almost whispered, his voice shuddering. “I’m so sorry.”

“And that you should be,” Sean interjected.

“What have you done to her?” Ethan snapped at Sean.

“Oh now Ethan, she was well taken care of,” Abrams lied with an impish grin. “Now, she did cause a bit of trouble, so unfortunately I did have to rough the whore up a bit.”

“You bastard!” Ethan yelled, the heat built throughout his body. His heart broke.

Sean lowered his head, smiled and chuckled. “If you only knew the half of it Ethan.” Meeting Ethan’s eyes, Sean grinned, something wicked gleamed in those pale blue eyes.

Ethan turned away and peered into Kate’s eyes, “It’s going to be okay Kate.” He hoped he was not lying to her.

“Now Ethan, don’t be giving her a false sense of hope now.”

“Abrams, you said you’d let her go.” Ethan’s eyes were wide, begging. He knew Abrams could not be trusted, but how else could he appeal to the man.

“True, I did.” Sean agreed, nodding rhythmically as he stepped forward. He twisted on his heels ever so slightly to look back at Kate for a moment before returning his attention to Ethan. “I also said I was going to protect that Congressman down in Georgia too, now didn’t I?”

“You’ve betrayed the Bureau, your country,” Ethan accused. His eyes darting back and forth between Kate and Abrams.

“Betrayed the Bureau? My country?” Sean asked. A quizzical grin formed on his face. “Just depends on your frame of reference Ethan.” Sean paused for a second. “Well, maybe I did betray my country. Someone has to keep it strong though. I guess I’m just the man for the job.”

“The man for the job? What about Cerberus? You’re nothing special, just a pawn,” Ethan blurted out. He was bluffing. He hoped it did not backfire. “You were carrying out their orders, not the Bureau’s.”

Sean’s grin twitched at the organization’s name. Coming from the lips of an outsider, it burned him. His back straightened, his face became more serious. Sean recovered swiftly and let out a quiet laugh. “Maybe they are one and the same.”