Harbinger Page 8

  This is taking too long, Scott, I berated myself.

  I glanced down at the screen: 35% complete.

  Shit!

  A scuff at the opposite end of the alleyway caused me to jerk my weapon around in that direction. When I saw a Styrofoam food container slide across the pavement, blown by the stiff breeze down the alley, I relaxed a tick.

  68% complete.

  This is taking too long, Scott, I thought again, the sentiment doing nothing to relieve the constriction in my chest.

  “Bellos!” a man yelled from the front of the garage.

  Shit! 82%!

  Go, I thought to myself. Just go.

  But I stayed.

  “Bellos, goddamn it!” the man yelled. “We’re waiting on you!”

  97%… 98%… 99%… Download complete.

  I yanked the cord out of the phone and stuffed it back into his pocket. In one sweeping motion, I pushed the iPad into my bag and scooped up my Glock. Down the alley, I shot like a fleshy bullet, certain that it was the fastest I had ever sprinted in my life.

  “What is the fucking hold up?!” the man yelled, closer, just as I rounded the corner. Though my overwhelming instinct was to continue sprinting. I paused after clearing the corner and then peeked around. The man who had been calling out came into view just then. I ducked back quickly.

  When I looked again, he was sprinting toward his fallen comrade.

  Jesus, that was close. He hadn’t seen me.

  As fast as my pumping legs would carry me, I ran around the loading dock area of the factory and then up the ramp. As I passed through the clear plastic split curtains, intended to hold a modicum of heat inside, workers glanced up and followed my progress with swiveling necks.

  I ran through the loading area and into the office area. Curious workers poked their heads through the office doors as I zipped past. Then, behind me, I heard a woman scream. I looked over my shoulder as I hit the door to the lobby. Charging through the loading area were two rather large fellows, both running at a quick clip. Papers were floating in the air, explaining the scream as one of the men must have smashed into the woman who was now sitting on the floor, cringing and holding her elbow.

  I burst out the front door and immediately started scanning the parking lot for my Audi. I reached into my pocket and hit the “lock” button on the key fob, revealing my ride with a welcome chirp and a flash of parking lights.

  After passing behind a van, I stopped short and walked past on the other side at a casual pace. Traveling toward my car as if my only concern was to get out of the cold, I glanced down at a rearview mirror to see the progress of my pursuers.

  They bashed through the front doors and then halted, looking both ways and scanning the parking lot before splitting up…one to the left and the other to the right.

  Yep, keep going, I thought as some tension in my chest melted away.

  I stepped up next to my car and brushed the windshield with my hand, casually. I belong here. This is where I work. This is my car and I love it. No need to look over here, I’m boring, I thought to myself.

  When I finally got into my rented Audi, I started it and let the engine warm as if my greatest desire was to have warm seats before I left my parking space. With just my eyes, I scanned all my mirrors for movement. The SUV and the sedan in front of the shop hadn’t moved.

  “That’s right, boys,” I muttered to the reflection of Harbinger and his men. “I’m still on foot…running away from you at this very moment.”

  Fighting against my pounding heart, I slowly pulled out of my parking space. I aimed for the exit of the industrial zone at a “suitable for parking lot” speed.

  I began to breathe more easily as I rounded the last turn before getting onto the road. Then headlights flashed behind me. The sound of a large block engine, whining its acceleration, was the first sign I had been discovered. The second sign was the thwack of small arms fire against the tail of my car.

  So much for a clean getaway, I thought as I glanced in the rearview.

  I pressed the accelerator to the floor, jumping the curb on the last turn, and then slid across the grass as I tried to enter traffic on the road. The V8 turbo in my RS6 whined as I up-shifted onto the paved shoulder and then accelerated past the car in front of me. The driver’s horn blared angrily behind me as I swung back into traffic and then through the median.

  In my rearview, I saw the bouncing headlights of a large SUV as I zoomed through the narrowing median around three more cars. I was pleased when the front of Harbinger’s vehicle struck the rear of an oncoming truck, sending them sideways into the median. After I swerved back into traffic, I looked up again. They were still in pursuit.

  “Is that an American-made SUV?” I muttered, shaking my head.

  With every paved shoulder and flare out in the median I passed, I leapfrogged in front of other drivers, speeding dangerously over speed humps and then scraping bottom as I landed on the other side. Ahead, I saw an intersection for a wider road.

  That’s what I need, I thought. Room to unwind this engine.

  Approaching the intersection, I gripped the parking brake and pulled up hard on it as I turned through the changing light. I skidded out into the center of the connecting street before dropping the brake and speeding forward again.

  Behind me, I was leaving an obstacle course of stopped traffic, cars that had skidded to a halt or turned abruptly to avoid my apparent maniac joy ride. Harbinger was falling further and further behind, unable to navigate through traffic as I was.

  When I slammed on the brakes, skidding to take a highway entry ramp I had almost missed, I had lost sight of the SUV completely.

  Finally, I thought. A little luck.

  Once on the highway with its unrestricted speed lane, I flew toward Frankfurt at over a hundred fifty miles per hour. I didn’t slow again until I had to change lanes to take the airport exit.

  I wound my way around to the rental car return lot, slipping into an empty parking spot closest to the terminal. Once the engine was silent, I closed my eyes and took a few deep breaths to calm myself. I had blown my covert surveillance. I was certain Harbinger had been close enough to get a look at the license plate of my Audi—and that would lead them to my rental agreement…and my cover ID, Scott North.

  The only smart thing left to do was for Scott North to go home.

  Cut and run, Mr. North, I chided myself as I pulled the extra shirt from my bag and wiped down all the surfaces in the car that I might have left fingerprints on. Once I was satisfied with my cleaning job, I exited the car and did the same thing outside.

  I stood and looked at the car, trying to think of anything I might have missed. There was nothing I could do about the bullet holes. I had to hope the car wouldn’t be checked until morning.

  That’s odd, I thought as I bent to examine the three holes in the tail of the Audi…one of them hadn’t gone all the way through.

  I grasped the flattened round and tried to pull it free, but it wouldn’t budge.

  Hmm.

  I quickly unlocked the trunk and looked inside. My chest tightened. It had gone through, and locked. It was a tracer. I lifted the cover for the spare and pulled the lug wrench free before pounding the device back through the hole it had entered.

  “Damn!”

  I looked around me and saw a shuttle bus in the pick-up lane that had just closed its doors. After jogging to reach it before it left, I wedged the tracker under the rear license plate. “Follow that,” I muttered as it pulled away.

  With a grunt of satisfaction, I walked back to my car and tossed the lug wrench back into the trunk after wiping it down.

  I have a good head start on them, I thought. I should still be okay.

  I pulled my jacket off and unclasped my shoulder holster. As I wrapped it and the silencer in my extra sweatshirt, I began to look for a reasonably secure place to tuck my contraband.

  Can’t go through security with this, now, can I?

  Behind the
rental parking sign was a small stack of traffic cones that looked like they hadn’t moved in some time, judging by the wet, matted leaves and trash piled up around them. After looking around to make sure no one was watching, I tipped the stack sideways and stuffed my bundle of weaponry inside.

  I put my jacket back on and jogged toward the terminal. In a matter of minutes, I had returned my car keys to the rental desk. I was glad I had gotten the insurance on it, allowing me to continue to the terminal without having to wait for an inspection.

  As I turned to leave, I glanced through the glass toward the parking lot and saw an SUV driving slowly along the line of rental cars.

  Shit!

  I jogged into the terminal and found a departure board to look for the earliest nonstop flight back to the States. Finding what I needed, I rushed to the ticketing kiosk and set my Scott North passport on the counter.

  “Do you have any seats available on Flight 444 to Atlanta?” I asked.

  After a moment of tapping, she smiled. “Indeed, we do,” she replied in decent English but with a thick German accent. “Oh…but you’ll have to run. It’s already started to board.”

  “That’s fine,” I replied. Actually, that was perfect.

  She swiped my credit card, punched a few buttons, and then looked over the counter as the boarding pass printed. “Any luggage?” she asked.

  “Only my carry on,” I replied as I looked over my shoulder.

  Several counters down, I saw three men enter the terminal area. They looked fierce. I turned my hood up and waited for the ticket while the clerk continued to punch buttons on her screen.

  “Here you are, Mr. North,” she said, finally handing me my ticket folio. “Have a good flight.”

  I smiled and nodded. “Thanks.”

  I stuffed my boarding pass and passport back into my bag and casually strolled around the ticket kiosk, walking away from the men. When I rounded the corner, I saw two more men, likewise searching their surroundings as if hunting for someone.

  I ducked back against the side of the kiosk and pulled my jacket off before reversing it, revealing the red lining and white sleeves. I spotted an ATM machine across the aisle and pulled my hood up before walking over to it, unrushed, relaxed.

  I slipped the first card into the slot and queried the Scott North account. When I saw a three thousand euro maximum withdrawal limit, I proceeded to max it out. As soon as the machine had finished spitting fifty-euro bills out, I inserted the second card and did the same—forty-five hundred limit.

  With my pockets full of cash, I stepped out and made my way casually to the escalators, passing directly behind the two men who were still scanning the crowd. I leaned against the rail as I glided up to the next level as if I had no worries in the world…but inside, my heart was beating hard and fast.

  My phone buzzed in my pocket before I reached the top—it was Kathrin.

  “Hi, sweetheart,” I said softly with a smile on my face. “I’m sorry I didn’t get a chance to call you back. I’ll be in late.”

  “Late? Where are you?” she asked.

  “I know,” I said with a chuckle. “I’m horrible. But I’ll see you soon. Don’t worry.”

  “How can I not worry?!” she asked incredulously. “You are obviously somewhere you can’t speak freely.”

  “Not at all,” I replied dismissively, keeping the same upbeat tone. “I’ll call you when I land.”

  “When you land? What—”

  I ended the call and turned off my phone before stepping from the escalator. The walk down the hall lasted only until I was out of view from the concourse below—then I broke into a sprint. I raced down the aisles, looking for the security portal. If I got through, the others couldn’t follow—I was certain they were carrying weapons.

  As soon as I spotted the metal detectors, I looked over my shoulder. Sure enough, the two men I had passed below were now chasing after me. Fortunately, they were far behind. I arrived at the metal detectors out of breath and began pushing my way through the line.

  “I’m sorry,” I said to the people I was bypassing. “I’m so sorry. My flight is boarding now. Please excuse me. Sorry. Sorry.”

  When I got to the front of the line, an angry-looking security man pushed a tray toward me.

  “Thank you,” I said breathlessly. “My flight is boarding.”

  “Yes,” he replied in a bored tone. “I heard.”

  I emptied my pockets into the tray and then placed my bag on the conveyor before looking behind me to see the progress of the two men. They still hadn’t spotted me in the crowd, but they had slowed and were now looking closely at the faces of the people in line. I passed through the metal detector, but it buzzed as I went through. The guard raised his hand, stopping my forward momentum before sweeping a handheld wand back and forth over my body.

  It was a few seconds before he was satisfied I wasn’t carrying anything dangerous. When I looked back as I grabbed my bag from the conveyor, the men had zeroed in on me.

  “Shit,” I muttered as I turned my back on them and continued to run toward my gate.

  I gave one last look backward before I dashed right toward the boarding plane. The attendant was in the process of closing the doors when I zoomed around the corner.

  “Wait! One more!” I called out as I leapt the banks of seating and skidded a halt in front of her.

  Her disapproving glare did nothing to ease my tension, but she let me on board after scanning my boarding pass. I jogged down the ramp and then paused at the open door to show my pass. The flight attendant pointed me in the right direction and I turned down the aisle, moving toward my seat.

  I looked through each window as I passed it and then pulled my phone out of my pocket. I dialed Storc.

  “Hey, I was just talking about you,” Storc said, answering.

  “Nothing blasphemous I hope.”

  “Not at all,” Storc replied. “I was just telling Ruth about that time you took me rock climbing.”

  I dipped my head down to look through a window, inserting myself too deeply into someone’s personal space. The man looked up at me, confused and agitated. I just smiled at him as I continued down the aisle.

  “Why is Ruth there?” I asked as I slowly made my way to the back of the plane.

  “She works here,” Storc said, a “gotcha” in his voice. “I’m visiting her.”

  Ah…the encryption key delivery.

  “Good, that will save me a second call,” I replied when I reached the back of the cabin.

  I stood next to the restrooms and then peeked my head into the galley. One of the attendants turned and smiled at me as she continued to stow items for takeoff.

  “What did you need?” Storc asked.

  “I have some pictures I wanted you to bundle up and send to the analysts,” I replied after opening one of the bathroom doors and stepping inside. I left the door open so I could keep an eye on the corridor.

  “Well just send them to my phone, and I’ll give them to Ruth now,” Storc said. “I’m sure we can find a secure way to transfer them.”

  “Hold on,” I said and pulled up my secure messaging app. After encrypting the images I had taken of the case and computer boards, I TARed them up and sent them. “They’re on the way.”

  The flight attendant who had been in the galley walked past the bathroom. She must have caught sight of me out of the corner of her eye because a second later, she tipped her head back through the door. “We’ll be pushing away from the gate in a minute,” she said. “I need you to return to your seat.”

  I smiled and nodded while pointing at my phone. When she continued toward the front of the plane, I exited the bathroom and looked into the galley again—it was empty this time. I turned the corner and looked through the window of the back door hatch toward the terminal.

  “I got ’em,” he said. “What are they?”

  “No time to explain,” I replied in a hushed voice. “The plane is getting ready to push off from the gate
.”

  “Plane?”

  “Is Nick there?” I asked.

  “Right here…hold on.”

  I looked around the corner once more before moving over to the catering area of the galley. As if absently snooping, I pulled the door open on the catering lift and examined the food cart.

  “What’s going on?” Nick asked when he got on the phone.

  “Harbinger is in Germany,” I whispered.

  There were a few beats of silence from Nick as I pulled the catering cart out of its hutch.

  “Are you safe?” he asked.

  “For the moment, but I blew the North ID,” I replied before walking back to the curtained opening and looking down the aisle of the main cabin again.

  “Get to a consulate or embassy and tell them who you are and where you work,” Nick said firmly. “I’ll make—”

  “I’ve got it covered on this end. But I do need a couple of things from you,” I said ducking back into the empty kitchen area.

  “What?”

  “I need a list of good, off-the-books cobblers,” I replied. “Maybe ones the Agency has black listed.”

  “I see where you’re going with this,” Nick replied. “What’s the other thing?”

  I crawled into the hutch the catering cart had come out of and then closed the door from the inside.

  “There’s a Lufthansa flight getting ready to take off for Atlanta…flight 444 out of Frankfurt,” I said.

  “What’s going on, man?” Nick asked, worried.

  “I need you to arrange for a customs entry in the log at Atlanta when it lands,” I replied as I located the toggle pin that held the catering cart elevator cable. “It appears Mr. North has missed his flight, and we wouldn’t want that news getting out just yet.”

  I pulled the pin, bracing myself for the drop. I slid down the duct and landed with a thud after only about five feet…not nearly as bad as I thought it would be.

  “What was that?” Nick asked, presumably referring to the thud on my end.