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Dragonflies: Shadow Of Drones Page 9
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He decided to continue walking past the van without looking or stopping.
“What are you doing?” Raina asked.
“I think we may have company.”
“What?”
“Just sit tight.”
He turned the next corner and proceeded along the block. At the next turn he glanced casually behind him. Sure enough, the man was keeping pace, about seventy yards behind him. He scanned up and down the street for any signs of police or campus security and saw none. A large university building loomed ahead on his right, with an adjacent alleyway formed by a retaining wall against a steep hillside. The sun was about to set and long shadows were overtaking the street.
“I see what you’re talking about. I’ve got eyes on him if you need them,” Raina said.
He thought for a moment. “What’s the layout with the alleyway up ahead?”
“It parallels the building all the way around back. Must be for fire department access.”
“Windows?”
“Hang on a second.”
“Haven’t got all day here, Rain.” He was drawing nearer to the alley and he didn’t want to slow down or appear to alter his gait in any way.
“Right. Sorry. I see no windows or doors in the back of the building. None down the alley either.”
“Security cameras?”
“Don’t see any.”
Sounded like a good a place to draw the guy in and find out what he was up to. It might be the only chance he’d get.
“Okay. I’m going to try to reel him in.”
“You sure?”
He said nothing. Moving more briskly as he approached the building, he abruptly turned and ducked down the alley.
The entire alleyway was framed by the tall concrete-enforced retaining wall that had to be at least twenty feet in height. The narrow opening to the blue sky overhead let in minimal light.
“Okay. I see what you have in mind,” she said.
“How am I doing?”
“He’s closing on you.”
Breathing harder from the adrenaline, Tye hurried to the end of the building, and slipped around the corner.
“Am I good?” he whispered.
“Okay, you’re good,” Raina said. “He’s just coming into the alley now.”
Tye willed himself to go still. Whatever was happening here would become apparent soon enough.
“He’s stopping for a moment to check things out. Must be wondering if you went into the building.”
Tye waited.
“All right, he’s moving again. Slowly. He’s still looking around. I’ll tell you when he’s just about made it to your corner.”
He liked the tactical advantage of having Raina’s eyes on his side. It allowed him to magnify and project his capabilities in ways he’d never considered. He counted to fifteen, trying to project back to how long it had just taken him to move along the wall.
“He’s just about there,” Raina said.
Here we go. Tye stuck his leg out and stepped straight into the man’s path. “Hold up, friend.”
“Wha–?” The man took a quick step back.
He looked to be about five-ten, two hundred and fifty pounds. He wore a dark gray sweatsuit with big pockets. Up close, Tye realized, he was neither African American nor Latino, as he’d suspected; maybe Middle Eastern or Filipino, maybe something else. He had a small scar on his lower lip, a tattoo on the side of his neck, and dark, setback eyes. Mr. Sweatsuit neither looked nor carried himself like a student.
The heavyset man came out of his pocket with a handgun cradled in his right fist. Tye immediately made it as a large caliber, not the type of weapon typically brandished by your everyday gang banger.
“Whoa,” he said. “No need for that.” Alone and unarmed in what he now realized was a stupid place to confront the guy, he instinctively edged forward a little, closing the gap between them.
“I’ll decide if there’s a need,” the man said. His accent was distinctly American. Not Southern or New York. Midwest? Chicago? Maybe the west coast? Maybe L.A.?
“You were following me, Amigo.” He was still kicking himself for not anticipating the gun. He could just imagine Raina’s panic at the moment, watching on her video feeds. Should she call the police? They both knew she couldn’t do that.
“Who you callin’ Amigo?” The man trained the barrel of the gun directly at Tye’s chest.
He raised his hands in the air, feigning panic, moving closer. “Don’t shoot. Please don’t shoot me.”
The big man looked disgusted. “What are you? Some sort of psycho fag?”
A few inches more. “I was just…I was just…”
A sound like the flutter of wings burst from somewhere above. The big man’s eyes flicked up toward the noise, all the opening that was needed.
Tye spun his hands in a clockwise whip, grasping the top of the barrel with his left hand to push it away while breaking the man’s grip with a powerful chop from his other, executing a Kiaido Ryu gun disarm; he pulled back with the gun in his own control before the guy even knew what hit him.
The man lost his balance for moment, but Tye wasn’t fooled. The guy came right back at him with a switchblade from somewhere, aiming for Tye’s midsection. Making a snap decision not to use the gun, he blocked the thrust with a kick to the man’s groin and a static hold, which the guy must have counted on. Whoever he was, he must have been a wrestler or something. A strong one at that, and he wanted his gun back. He wasn’t about to give up this fight, and Tye realized the guy was ready and willing to kill.
The next knife charge, fueled by anger and fear and who knew what else, started from above where Tye held his arm in a partial clasp. Tye had no choice but to redirect the force of it. The big man tripped over his own feet, his huge body whipsawing toward the ground, but as he did, his lower body slammed into Tye, knocking the gun away, as they both rolled to the ground.
The gun clattered to the pavement. The guy was a step closer and pounced on it.
Tye rose up to move toward him, but it was too late, he saw the black barrel angling toward him again, knowing this time the guy was going to pull the trigger.
But before the big man could squeeze off a shot, something whistle-zipped through the air and the guy’s head exploded. Some kind of high velocity round went right through him, splaying blood and bone against the building.
“Holy…” Tye leapt back for a second, moving to take whatever cover he could against the bare brick wall. He dropped to one knee. Seconds went by. Mercifully, there appeared to be no more bullets on the way, at least for the time being. The man had been killed instantly and the result wasn’t pretty. Tye’s heart felt like it was about to pound out of his chest.
“Did you see that?”
“I saw it,” Raina said.
He looked up. “Where the hell did that come from?”
“I have no idea. It sure as heck wasn’t from me.”
The attacker who a moment before had been about to kill him was now well beyond dead. Half his brain had been plastered against the wall and ground.
“Sniper?” Raina asked.
He searched the fading blue above and the surrounding rooftops to see if he could tell where the shot had come from but saw nothing except the gathering darkness and a distant cloud, crawling mist-like across the small patch of sky. “I don’t see how. No angle for anyone to shoot from. You see anything on your screen or thermal imaging?”
A pause. “Negative.”
Again, he forced himself to slow down and calm his breathing. “Okay. Let me think.”
“You need to get out of there.”
“First, let me see if this guy has any kind of ID on him.”
He bent over the body, now slumped like some grotesque marionette against the brick side of the building. There was blood everywhere, more continuing to ooze out, but the guy’s heart must have stopped pumping soon after his brain exploded. He’d seen as bad in combat, but this was different.
He checked the pockets of the bloody sweatsuit and found nothing. No wallet. No money. No keys or anything else. Whoever this guy was, he sure traveled light. He looked over the rest of the body to see if there might be any unique identifying characteristics. Not a thing. Other than the fact the dude had been in need of some dental work.
“Your prints will be on the gun,” Raina said.
“Thanks, Sherlock.”
He should have thought of that. He was going to have to start thinking more like a cop. He tore off his varsity style jacket and used it to wipe down the handgun–a big Beretta he realized now–that had dropped back to the pavement.
“Wait a minute,” he said. “Why don’t I just take the thing? It hasn’t been fired. There’s no forensic trace.”
“Sure. Whatever. It’s starting to grow dark. Just get the heck out of there.”
Maybe the gun would help lead him back to its source. He engaged the safety on the Beretta and jammed the weapon into the back waistband of his jeans, covering it with his sweatshirt.
What was going on? Who was this dude and who or what had taken him out?
All he knew was he had to get moving again. He realized he was sweating, even though it was growing cooler. He started to make his way out of the alley, glancing overhead as he went.
18
“What were you thinking?”
Raina glared at him over the top of her computer screen from the back of the van. Tye was driving slowly so as to not call attention to their vehicle. No doubt someone would be finding the body in the alley soon enough.
They came to a stoplight and Tye looked at Raina in the mirror. She was still upset. She had a right to be. It would have been much smarter of him to have confronted the guy out on the street where he would have been less likely to pull a gun.
“I wasn’t thinking,” he said. “I was reacting. Never should have let him pin me in that place, and once the fight started, I shouldn’t have let him get the gun back. He was about to send me packing to Never-land.”
“I saw that.”
“You think he was he was from Homeland Security?”
“How should I know? I’m not exactly on DHS’s team. Now we have people trying to kill us, and bullets flying out of the sky and we have no idea why.”
“Which only confirms the fact that we’re messing with some important people. You think the shot came from another drone?”
“Had to be. The alleyway was too narrow for anyone or anything else to have a view from above. But not a normal military drone like a Predator. If a Pred had taken him out, you would have been smoked along with him, and so would most of the side of that building.”
“So a smaller one maybe. Something new. Like the ones we’re flying.”
“It’s possible. But the MAVs aren’t supposed to be weaponized, and they’re too small to pack a punch like that.”
“Maybe it was from some sort of an automated gun.”
“That’s was my first thought…But how would they have taken the shot unless it had a platform and was positioned directly over the alley? Only way to do that is with a drone...But there’s a big problem.”
“What’s that?”
“There was nothing else up there. Believe me. I checked from every angle I could find.”
Tye thought things over for a moment.
“You want to pull the plug?” he offered. “We can abort right now. Return the equipment, tell Williamson to take a flying leap, and disappear. I know a place out in Idaho where we can lay low for a while.”
“I don’t think it’s that simple.”
“What do you mean?”
“I’ve been thinking about this. We know too much. And what about Stacie Hutchinson and Derek Kurn. Are we supposed to just forget about the recording?”
“We could just send it in to the police and FBI as an anonymous tip.”
“Which Nathan Kurn would promptly find a way to explain away or pay someone to have buried.”
“Maybe the guy worked for Kurn.”
“You think Kurn’s on to us?”
“Could be.”
“I’ve pulled in my MAVs,” she said. “Got them parked in a safe spot for now.”
“I want to know where that round came from.”
“What kind of bullet was it?”
“I didn’t exactly have time to stick around for a ballistics analysis.”
Tye’s cell phone went off in his pocket. He pulled it out and looked at the screen.
“Figures. Anonymous,” he said.
He put the phone to his ear and answered.
“Drive to the following location,” a voice said. It was Williamson. He pushed the button to speaker, so Raina could hear it, too. The major’s instructions ended with a set of GPS coordinates, which she wrote down.
“Was that you who fired the shot?” Tye asked.
“Drive to the location,” Williamson repeated before abruptly clicking off.
“There’s your answer then. He had to have been the one to make the kill,” he said.
“We still don’t know that for sure.”
“He obviously knows about it. Why else would he be calling us? Where’s he talking about meeting?”
“Hang on a minute.” She typed the coordinates into her keyboard. “Looks like it’s a few miles from here….” She typed some more, staring into her screen….A group of warehouses over near NIH.”
“It’s getting dark. Rush hour should be over. Should we take the beltway?”
“No. Too visible,” she said. “Stick to surface streets where we at least have some tree canopy cover. I’m already plotting a route.”
19
The industrial park stood empty, its ghost-like buildings illuminated only by a few glowing street lamps and limited security lighting. The van’s headlights swept across a real estate agent’s sign at the entrance. A hundred and twenty-five thousand square feet of warehouse and light industrial space were available for lease; yet one more casualty of a stagnant economy.
A chainlink fence topped with razor wire barred entrance to the property, but the apparently remotely controlled gate slid silently open to welcome them. Someone was obviously expecting their arrival.
“This place sure looks like fun.”
“Better keep our eyes open.” Raina, who’d moved next to him in the front passenger seat, swiveled her head back and forth, scanning the shadowed hulks and darkened windows of the empty structures.
“A little nervous, are we, without your drone babies watching over us?”
“After seeing what happened to that guy in the alley…you bet I am.”
They rolled into the main intersection of the complex. From down one of the side streets, a dark, low-slung vehicle approached. Tye turned the van to face it. He gave the accelerator a little more gas.
“Who do we have here? James Bond?”
You could tell the approaching automobile was some sort of low-slung sports car, but not much else was apparent behind its gleaming Xenon headlamps. The car rolled to a stop about fifty yards ahead of them. Tye braked the van to a halt as well.
The door of the sports car opened and a man climbed out, stepping forward into the glow of their lights. Clad in dark blue jeans and a black leather jacket, he was of medium height but quite thin and completely bald.
Tye raised an eyebrow. “Forget Bond. Looks more like an anorexic Vin Diesel. It’s Williamson.”
Raina nodded.
“Here we go.” He felt for the Beretta he’d placed on the seat next to him, leaned forward, and shoved it back in his waistband.
“I’m coming, too.” Raina pushed open her door as he opened his.
“Of course you are.”
They climbed out and approached the major on foot.
“Little upgrade in the lifestyle, huh, Major?” Tye said.
Williamson nodded. “You might say that. Good to see both of you in person again.”
Tye glanced at Raina, around the perimeter, and overhead for
any sign of something awry. “You summoned us.”
“I did.”
“You just murdered that man in the alley,” Raina said.
“Regrettably, we took the shot. But since you were watching with your MAVs, I’m sure you agree he was about to pull the trigger. It was a clear case of defending Mr. Palmer’s life. I wouldn’t call that murder.”
“You used another type of drone?”
“Yes.”
“What did you find out about the guy who’s been romancing me from Homeland Security? Did the dead man in the alley work for him?”
“Quite possibly. We’re still trying to find out more, just like you.”
Tye screwed up his mouth. “Who are you, and we, really working for, Major?”
“As I’ve told you before, this is mostly a private effort.”
“Mostly...why would DHS have such an interest?”
“Quite possibly because we may be employing some of their technology.”
“What’s going on? Whose side are we on?”
“I’m afraid it’s not that simple anymore. There are elements all throughout the government, all over the world for that matter, involved in the kind of thing we’re doing. A lot of us have had to become freelancers. Just like you, we try to judge each individual situation as best we can when it comes.”
“So how have you gotten me such high security clearance?” Raina asked.
“I’m afraid I can’t tell you that.”
“We know you were Air Force and you’ve told us you used to be with the Company, but you can’t be doing all this alone.”
“Of course not.”
“Who provides the money?”
“We’re self-funded. We prefer to work off the grid.”
“Who heads up the organization?”