Chapter 12

Once inside the window cleaner’s hanging platform, Julie hits the release for the crank. The platform begins to slowly descend and doesn’t catch any of the police’s attention until it nearly reaches the ground. Shouts for the agents to freeze and drop their weapons come at them and when neither agent complies the police begin shooting. Bullets ricochet off the metal of the platform leaving little options for the two agents.

“Well maybe this wasn’t such a good idea,” Julie says followed by a frown. She grabs the railing and leaps over it. The drop is only about fifteen feet and she lands then ducks into a roll that brings her up behind a parked car.

Spencer lets out a sigh and follows her lead. He rolls up next to Julie with his back against the car. Bullets from the officers pound madly at the hunk of metal and offer no chance for either of them to escape. “No what now?” Spencer asks.

“Now?” Julie asks her face neutral. “Now we attempt to do the extreme and try to escape.” She holsters one of her pistols and hands the other over to Spencer. “Here, you’re probably going to need it.”

He takes the gun. “If we get out of this alive I’ll be surprised.”

“Me too,” she says with a wink. “You ready?” Kogarasu Maru is already drawn and Julie has a look of unwavering determination set on her face.

Spencer nods and as they are about to stand twelve armed and fully armored officers appear—six on each side of the car. One of them orders the two agents to hold and drop their weapons. Spencer and Julie have no other option than to do just that.

“London and Liverpool have been rocked by terrorist attacks in just the last couple of days,” the reporter was saying as he stands in front of the Wolff Industries building. “I’m standing in front of Wolff Industries, just one of the latest attacks in a long line of attacks.” He turns to look toward the building. “New World Regime had taken credit for the attacks on Lucius Magnus, head of True Energy and the company’s building. They have also claimed credit on the attack in Russia and this latest attack here in Liverpool which carried through the streets and ended at St. John’s Shopping Centre where two suspects were taken into custody.” Turning back, the reporter finishes. “We are awaiting details and will report updates as we receive them. Meanwhile, True Group has yet to release a statement and it seems likely one will be issued to news stations soon. This is Edward Grimes, reporting live in Liverpool.”

Typheryian clicks off the monitor and stands silently glaring at the blank scene for a good hard minute. He notices the presence of Rythern standing in the far corner, but ignores the younger Sura, hoping he will be stupid enough to interrupt him. Typheryian wouldn’t mind ripping Rythern’s life from his useless body. After a while he spins around to face Rythern. “I have an assignment for you.”

“As you wish,” he answers dropping to his knee and bowing his head.

Typheryian ignores the gesture. “Our plans are moving at a faster rate and it is time to shed off some unnecessary and potentially dangerous weight.”

Rythern doesn’t know where this is going, but he doesn’t dare interrupt. He can feel the anger fueling the elder Sura and knows not to push his luck with him. “What shall you have me do?” he asks smoothly.

“Kill Natalya Rinehart.”

“As you wish,” Rythern says as he rises.

“And Rythern?” Typheryian says as an afterthought. Rythern freezes in place, silent. “Bring me that bitch’s head back.”

In Southampton the moon sits full, high in the night sky casting a low glow across the docks and the ships wading in the water. The rhythmic sounds of water lapping against the ships and sea walls provide a soothing noise in the background of swing cranes and sounds of heavy machinery.
A large cargo ship with the name Suns’ Horizon painted on its bow sits precariously as large cranes move metal cargo containers onto it. The entire section of the dock belongs exclusively to True Merchants Cargo with a full scale security detail provided by the Black Dragon.

Tonight is special though. Natalya limits the amount of soldiers normally present, slashing their numbers to well under a quarter. She has wanted to strike at the Ternion and she has finally found the perfect place to do it. Officially, the orders to do so come from her other employer, Section 8. She hates to lose any of her men simply because it is so hard to find good, loyal help. But it is better to lose a handful for the greater goal she reasons.

In the shadows sits a group of four, spread out at equal distances from each other. All are poised and coiled to strike. The small DEeP Six team slips through the docks quietly and eliminate almost all the Black Dragon soldiers. Those soldiers now sit in a similar fashion with either a knife wound through the heart or their throats slashed. The few that remain unmolested are stationed at either end of the Sun’s Horizon. The team’s commander gives the signal. Each member of the team springs out from the shadows and with quick, successive bursts takes the remaining guards out. The team then diverts their attention to the workers. In just thirty seconds the dock lay silent. The only sounds come from the lapping of the water on the Sun’s Horizon’s hull and the seawall.

The commander signals for the team to move onto the ship. The only thing left is the remaining crew and captain. With any luck nobody will get wind of the fallen silence. The only thing the team has to worry about is once the crew discovers their communications aren’t being received they would run.

Thirty minutes after the initial assault, the crew is hunted down and killed and the ship searched and contained. The DEeP Six team has the Sun’s Horizon moving away from port with all its cargo bound for the preset rendezvous.
The vessel sails for the next few hours unmolested. The DEeP Six team grows a little lax in the later part of the trip. They are running on shifts of two awake, two asleep. Currently, the commander of the team sits at the bridge monitoring the readouts while the other patrols the deck. The team thinks the mission a success. That is until the first wave of machine gun fire tears across the deck. The stream of bullets flies from the bow of a smaller vessel, a sloop. They rip through the body of the DEeP Six soldier, cutting him in half before the sound of the gun reaches his ears.

Within seconds the commander of the team hits the alarms. Sirens and red, flashing lights pulsate across the cargo hauler. The commander flies from the bridge and begins to return fire upon the smaller vessel below. His efforts are weak and useless, proving ineffective. From behind him a silhouette steps from the shadows. A hand bursts through the commander’s chest with his heart pulled free and still beating in the hand that holds it. He looks down unbelieving. The hand turns and drops the heart letting it fall with a splat to the deck. The hand pulls back through and spins the man around to face his attacker.

He faces a woman with long, black hair and piercing eyes. He recognizes her almost instantly. His brain fights for a name as it is still trying to wrap around the idea his heart is longer part of his body. When he finds the name he unsuccessfully forms the words to say it instead mouthing them. Natalya Rinehart. The Goji reaches up and grabs both sides of the man’s head in a firm grasp, twisting it free from his shoulders. The man’s body falls back and over the railing slamming hard onto the deck below. Natalya laughs as she throws the head into the water.

From below, two Black Dragon soldiers aim their carbines up in her direction and fire. A single burst from each weapon fly past each side of her head and slam into the heads of the two remaining DEeP Six soldiers. Brain matter splatters against the wall as their heads slam back. Their bodies follow and both lifeless bodies fall into a crumpled heap.

Natalya turns around and smiles. She places her finger to her mouth and licks the blood from it. She is satisfied with the outcome. Now it is time to make the shipment disappear.

With a Zodiac inflatable boat and outboard motor, Jonathan and Melissa—fully geared up—set out onto the open water toward the Cephalopoda. The agents have stealth on their side but with a full moon illuminating the water they may have lost the element. To compensate for this, Melissa suggested they meander through between other boats and then disappear. Jonathan liked the idea.

They spend a half hour longer than initially planned in order to shake any observers watching them and make their ploy seem more believable. Once the two agents are satisfied they have no onlookers and a ship blocking the view from the super yacht, they slip over the side and into the water. Jonathan pulls out a knife he picked up from a surplus store in town before he had returned to their hotel and slashes the material.

“What the hell are you doing?” Melissa interrupts with a high pitched whisper.

“What it looks like,” he answers with just a hint of irritation hinting at his voice. “We can’t leave it floating around empty,” he says a moment later. When Dupree doesn’t say anything else he runs his knife the length of the boat. It quickly deflates and sinks. The weight of the outboard motor carries it down to the depths of the sea.

They make sure their breathing masks are secured before dipping beneath the water. They swim the distance to the super yacht using the light that filters through surface of the water as their only means of a light source. Then they break the surface in just under twenty minutes. As they bob in the water Melissa keeps a look out at the sides of the super yacht while Jonathan goes to work on the out hull. He pulls out a small box-device and places it on the hull.

“What are you doing?” she asks as her curiosity gets the better of her.

“It’s something our weapons development department came up with,” he explains. “It will send a small charge into the controls for the door, temporarily short circuiting it.”

“Then we slip in and it comes back online securing itself,” she continues, seeing where the explanation is going. “But won’t they notice it?” she asks inquisitively.

“If their security is any good they will,” he answers. “We’ll be gone by the time they get here and slip by.”

“Unless they have cameras we missed,” she points out.

“There is that,” he admits reluctantly. Then he turns his attention back to the small hand held device. He presses the single red button on it and the red light above flicks off and a green light comes on. “We have thirty seconds,” he announces as the side hatch begins to open.

“Then let’s not waste any time.”

They slip over the pair of jet skis stationed on a rack inside. The entryway opens up into a small room just large enough for two people to stand in and allow for room for the jet skis when the hatch is closed. Melissa cracks open the only door exiting the room and peers out. “All clear,” she says dipping back into the room. Jonathan nods and slips out into the corridor with her. The hatch closes behind them silently. The small, square device Stone attached to it releases the suction holding it in place and falls free to the water below.

In the corridor Melissa leads the way followed closely by her partner. The corridor ends with a water tight door with a port light window. She peers through the small window and quickly ducks back down.

“What do we have?” he asks with a whisper.

“One guard,” she returns. “What do you want to do?”

Before the man can reply, the wheel of the door begins to turn. The agents slide back against the wall trying to shrink their profiles and let the few shadows to wrap around them. The guard steps in talking into a walkie talkie, totally oblivious to the two agents. He puts away the device and walks past almost to the door before realizing something is out of place. By then it is too late and Jonathan is behind him with his arm around the man’s neck, pulling it back then his knife is out pressed against the man’s throat. “How many of you are there?” he asks in the man’s ear. The soldier struggles against the agent’s hard grip. Jonathan tightens his grip, halting the man cold in his efforts. “I won’t ask again, not unless you want to be eating, drinking and breathing through your throat.”

“Twenty,” he answers in a shaky voice. “There are twenty of us. We were expecting you.”

“Expecting us huh? Anything else we need to know about?”

“You’re not going to leave here alive,” he says defiantly.

“With only twenty of you?” Jonathan says breathlessly. “You’re mistaken.” The knife runs across his throat, spilling blood. The slice of the knife is so quick the guard doesn’t realize his throat is cut until his body hits the deck and his breathing turns into raged breaths. Within moments the guard is no longer breathing and lying in a pool of blood.

“We better move fast,” Melissa says as her partner runs his knife clean across his pant leg. “They are going to be waiting for a report.”

“Then we don’t have time for sneaking around do we?”

“Uh, I’m not so sure I want to hear what you have planned.”

“Trust me,” he says with a smirk. “Just be ready to move when you see my signal.”

“Your signal?” she shouts unexpectantly and immediately wincing right after.

“Just be ready,” he assures her and goes in the opposite direction.

Melissa manages to find a pretty well hidden place near the helicopter landing pad that gives her a good view of the bridge. She can see the Goji they were introduced to as Baldur Flosadottir. She tries to keep her full attention on the mission but part of her mind ebbs to her partner. He is brash and sometime reckless. Things hadn’t changed since the day they became partners, but throughout the years of being partnered with him, he always managed to surprise her with something new. And somehow he managed to stay alive, when she didn’t have his back.

She has been sitting in wait for nearly a half hour now. She decided to keep radio silence and Jonathan when didn’t report in she decided it was a safe thing to do. Their radio links consisted of an ear receiver surgically implanted in their ears and a throat mike that picked up the faintest of sound as it travel through their throats. As long as they used a low whisper the mike would pick it up and the enemy wouldn’t hear. The problem was whether the signal could be picked up and as advanced as these Goji seemed to be, it isn’t a risk she wants to take.