Cyrril Thounter quickly packed his bag. In the old days, he'd have several packed and ready to go. But he was getting old, he supposed. No one had made him since 1988, when he ran into an old friend in a mall and had to dispatch him in the parking lot before hitting his assassination mark and moving on.
He caught sight of his face in a mirror in his bedroom. He was indeed old. The forty-year-old man looked back at him, and he wondered what had happened to the kid who enlisted in the navy hoping to see the world.
After his parents died, he went to live with his Uncle Robert. His life was good, but the loss of his parents haunted him for six long years. He did poorly in school, couldn't score with girls, and generally didn't fit in. His Uncle Robert suggested the marines, but Thounter wanted to go into the navy. They traveled more.
They lied on his application and he got in. He excelled in marksmanship, defeating experts in competition with handguns as well as rifles. It wasn't long before he was accepted in the navy SEALs, an honor that he didn't think he qualified for. But there was already a plan being laid out for him. A man named Colonel Folke came to him and told him of special work he could do for his country, work that necessitated his disappearance.
They rigged his death, then shipped him off to an island in the Pacific where he learned to be a trained assassin. Uncle Robert was devastated until he contacted him and let him in on the secret. For the next part of his life, he traveled the globe executing his "assignments," trading one identity for another.
Then one day, it all stopped. The program was halted, and he was turned out into the world without any usable skills. The government found better ways of getting rid of its enemies. With the cold war over, they could use economic and diplomatic means to destroy. It was ironic. He was a professional assassin, and he'd been downsized.
But it wasn't long before he had other clients, private ones who still needed someone skilled in the art form of causing unnatural death. Thounter took up his occupation, this time being paid handsomely for his services.
But today some strange men had come looking for him. They could be the government, he thought. That job on Jus tice Douglas was clean, but a government man would know that Mbutu guy was just another cleverly set-up patsy.
His first thought was to cash in his insurance policy. Since he'd gotten into private practice, he'd discovered the need to have insurance for his jobs. The people who hired him these days did not like loose ends, and the triggerman could always be seen as one. But before he got his Farrel Douglas insurance out, he would teach whoever had sent these men a lesson. They needed to know just who they were dealing with.
Thounter finished packing the bag. He went to his closet and opened the door. Inside, there were several guns, knives, and ammunition. Tools of the trade.
He reached past the weapons and took out a small black case. Inside, there were several driver's licenses, Social Security cards, and a thick stack of hundred-dollar bills. He took out a driver's license that had his face on it and the name Victor Raffelson. He put it in his wallet and took the money. He grabbed some explosives and stuffed them into a case.
Thounter then went into his basement and poured several cans of fuel on the floor. He had to torch the place and run. He could not leave any trace of his life here. Thounter threw a match in the gas and it ignited with a loud
Whoomp!
He ascended the stairs quickly when he heard the sounds of movement above him. He showed no surprise. He had been expecting this. He knew the men would follow him and try to take him out. That's just what he would do. He just didn't expect them so soon. But they were here now, and that only meant he'd have to kill them a little sooner than he'd planned.
Marshall waited at the top of the stairs, hiding behind the doorjamb. He heard the footsteps of someone coming upstairs and he smelled the distinct odor of fire below.
Suddenly, three shots hit the door and the wall. Marshall had to back off. He was backing up when Thounter kicked the door open and leapt out of the doorway. Marshall could see the red glow of the fire below. Smoke was already starting to fill the house, billowing up from the basement.
Marshall backed out of the little kitchen as Thounter saw him and raised his gun. Thounter fired three quick shots. Marshall was astounded at how fast the shots came. The shots hit the kitchen wall, barely missing Marshall as he hit the floor in the dining room.
Thounter ran through the smoky room after Marshall, never seeing Danny crouched behind the refrigerator.
Marshall got to his feet. Thounter was in the kitchen and had to come back in to get Marshall. That was what Marshall was hoping for.
Marshall fired two shots into the kitchen doorway. Nothing. He knew he hadn't hit Thounter, but he was hoping that he would respond. The fire was in the kitchen now, and Thounter had to get out of there.
Thounter swung into the doorway and fired three more shots. Marshall rolled on the floor, pushing a table in front of him. But he still ended up within Thounter's view. Marshall raised his gun and saw the assassin aiming at him.
Suddenly, Danny appeared behind Thounter and grabbed him, forcing Thounter's arms to his side. Thounter's gun fired. Thounter yelled something.
Marshall quickly ran over to the two men and saw that Thounter had been shot in the leg by his own weapon. Thounter's gun had fallen to the floor. Marshall kicked the gun away.
Danny struggled with the assassin. Thounter dropped to one knee, throwing Danny off balance. He grabbed Danny by the head and threw him across the room. Thounter was strong, and even injured, he was formidable.
Without missing a beat, Thounter hit Marshall hard in the ribs and kicked his feet from beneath him. Marshall fell but managed to grab Thounter on his way down.
Thounter grabbed at Marshall's gun, and Marshall, sensing that he would lose the weapon, tossed it away. He had to keep the gun away or someone would die.
The fire was still in the kitchen, but it was starting to come into the dining room. The flames licked at the ceiling, turning it black. Smoke wafted in, pushing out precious air.
Marshall heaved Thounter from him, but the assassin got
to his feet and leapt at Marshall, his foot out in front. Danny caught Thounter in midair, and slammed him into a wall. Thounter grunted hard. Danny was behind him, pinning him to the wall. The assassin rammed his elbow into Danny's side. Danny pulled his gun and put it to Thounter's head.
"No!" Marshall yelled.
In Danny's moment of hesitation, Thounter grabbed at the gun and pushed it away from his head. The weapon discharged into a wall. Thounter raised his legs and pushed himself from the wall into Danny. Both men fell and hit the floor. Fire began to consume the room as the struggle continued.
Thounter grabbed Danny's arm and wedged it between the crook of his elbow. He was bending it backward, trying to break it. Danny yelled, dropping his gun. Thounter let Danny go then chased the weapon.
Marshall didn't have much time. If Thounter got the gun somebody was going to die. He grabbed a little marble statue from the floor. Thounter got Danny's gun and turned with it as Marshall swung the statue at the assassin's head.
Marshall hit him on the side of the head with the heavy statue. Thounter staggered, losing his footing for a second. He fired the gun randomly, missing Marshall and Danny. Marshall hit him on the jaw with his elbow and Thounter fell to his knees. Danny got to his knees and slammed a fist into Thounter's chin, and the assassin fell to one side, still holding the gun.
"That's one tough bastard," said Danny.
"Let's cuff him, quick," said Marshall.
Marshall took the weapon from Thounter. Then they took out handcuffs and cuffed Thounter's hands and feet. He was too dangerous a man to think he wouldn't resist if he recovered.
Danny found one of his guns, the Glock, and they moved into the front part of the house. Smoke was everywhere. Marshall felt heat beneath him. He looked down and saw smoke shooting from the wooden floor. Danny and Marshall dragged Thounter out of the dining room and into the living room. Marshall saw the front door and freedom. Suddenly, the door opened and two figures appeared.
"Nice job," said a man hidden in the darkness of the front of the house.
Danny raised his gun.
"No need for that," said Agent Van Ness as he stepped in. Easter was behind him, looking solemn.
"Don't lower your gun," Marshall said to Danny. To Van Ness he said: "What the hell are you doing here?"
"I don't think we have time to discuss it," said Van Ness. "Let's get out of here and I'll tell you."
"No," said Marshall. "Drop your weapon and back out of the house." Marshall choked a little.
"What?" said Van Ness. "Look, we were tracking the use of some special weapons in the Douglas case. You breached a security computer. Didn't you think we'd have a backup on a level-nine check?"
"Shut up and drop the guns," said Danny. "I'm not in the mood."
"Okay," said Van Ness. "Fine." He put his gun away and turned to Easter. "Put your weapon away, Phil."
Easter didn't move. He kept his gun on Marshall. Marshall could feel the soles of his shoes sticking to the floor as the fire below burned. Thounter's clothes were smoking where his body touched the floor. They had to get out soon.
"Phil, what's the matter with you?" asked Van Ness. "Come on—"
Agent Easter put his gun to Van Ness's head and shot him behind the ear. Van Ness fell to the ground, his smile faded into a look of shock as he died. Easter whipped his gun back on Marshall.
Danny fired at Easter as part of the floor dropped in a fiery crash behind him. Danny dropped his gun and fell to the floor next to Thounter.
Marshall jumped at Easter, grabbing Easter's hand with the gun in it.
Danny got to his feet and went to the fighting men. Easter's gun discharged into Danny's side, but Danny still managed to grab Easter and shove him across the room. Easter flew past Thounter's body and fell near the fiery hole in the living room.
"You okay?" Marshall asked Danny.
"Yeah, but I caught one."
Marshall grabbed Thounter and dragged him toward the front door. Suddenly, Thounter's body jerked, and he kicked out with both legs. Marshall was caught in the thigh and stumbled back into the front door. Danny stepped over to Thounter and kicked him in the head. The assassin passed out. Marshall grabbed Thounter's legs and pulled him toward the door.
A shot hit the door jamb.
Marshall and Danny turned to see Easter coming toward them firing a small gun.
Easter's clothes were smoking, and he looked like a demon as he came closer with the flames behind him. He aimed the gun at Marshall. Suddenly, the floor gave way under him. Easter fell backward through the hole, his body disappearing in a shaft of fire.
Marshall and Danny pulled Thounter from the house. Danny had caught a slug near the rib cage. He was bleeding and stumbled as they scrambled from the house. Marshall helped him, trying to support Danny and drag Thounter at the same time.
"I'm cool," said Danny. "I don't think it went in."
The air outside was sweet as Marshall and Danny pulled the assassin farther from the burning house. Danny's pants were turning dark with his blood.
Thounter coughed loudly. His eyes fluttered and he passed back out.
"Good," said Danny. "I didn't want to knock his ass out again."
They moved toward their car when Thounter's house exploded. A ball of flame shot out the side of the house and rose into the air.
Marshall and Danny almost lost their footing as a shockwave hit them. They moved farther away from the house, dragging Thounter toward the dirt road.
"What the fuck was that?" asked Danny.
"He must have had some kind of explosives in there," Marshall said.
They got to the dirt road and rested. Marshall checked Thounter. He was still out cold. A bruise filled with blood had risen on his head. They'd have to get him checked out soon.
"Hard day's work," said Danny. "Shit." He grabbed his side. "Hurts like hell."
Marshall and Danny took their captive to their car. He drove the car down Season Road as Thounter's house burned, driving black smoke high into the Ohio night.
48
Shadow Life
M
arshall was apprehensive as he approached Agent Sommers's house. He'd left Thounter at FBI headquarters and dropped Danny at the hospital.
He wanted to check Easter's and Van Ness's offices, to see if he could find the blackmail material Easter had on Roberta, but it would be impossible at this point. The CIA was already locking down everything Easter and Van Ness had touched and questioning everyone they had contact with. If they had anything, it was lost to him.
He was operating without the aid of his superior, Nate Williams, but he had to. He was still unsure of Nate's involvement and didn't want to alert anyone who might be involved.
It was early in the morning, and Sommers was probably asleep. That was good because he'd wanted her a little off her game. Marshall walked up to Sommers's house, a nice little place tucked in the corner of a cul-de-sac in Southfield.
Chris Sommers answered the door in a silk robe. Her hair was pulled back, and even without makeup she looked good. He never thought of Sommers that way, her all-business attitude was completely asexual. She opened the door and stood halfway behind it, like a kid peeking at a grown-up.
"What the hell is this about that you couldn't call?" said Sommers. She pulled the door all the way open to reveal that she had a gun behind the door. She lowered the gun, just as Marshall knew she would.