Jack Mars - File Zero

“And you can’t let that happen,” Sara said quietly.

Maya nodded solemnly.

“That’s right. And…” Zero breathed a heavy sigh. “And it means that things are probably going to be bad for a little while. They know that the two of you are the easiest way to get to me, so you need to disappear and hide out until this is all over. I don’t know when that will be. I don’t know…” He stopped himself again. He wanted to tell them, I don’t know that I’ll survive this , but he couldn’t bring himself to say the words.

He didn’t have to. They knew what he meant. Tears welled in Maya’s eyes and she looked away. Sara hugged him again, and he squeezed her tightly.

“You’re going to go with Mitch, and you’re going to have to do whatever he says, okay?” Zero heard tremors in his own voice. He was keenly aware, now more so than ever, that this might be the last time he ever saw his girls. “He’ll keep you safe. And you watch each other’s back.”

“We will,” Sara whispered in his ear.

“Good. Now you stay put for a minute while I go talk to Mitch. I’ll be right back.” He let go of Sara and strode over to the pickup truck where the mechanic was waiting idly.

“Thank you,” Zero told him. “You don’t owe me anything. I appreciate all of this, and when it’s done I’ll pay you back in whatever way I’m able.”

“No need,” the mechanic grunted. His trucker’s cap was still pulled low, obscuring his eyes while his thick beard covered the rest of his face.

“Where will you take them?”

“There’s an old WITSEC house in rural Nebraska,” Mitch said. “Small cabin just outside a small town, practically middle of nowhere. Hasn’t been used in years but it’s still a government listing. I’ll take ’em there. They’ll be safe.”

“Thank you,” Zero said again. He didn’t know what else to say. He wasn’t even sure why he was so easily able to trust this man with the two most important people in his life; it was a feeling, an instinct that transcended logic. But he had learned long ago—and relearned only hours ago—to trust his instincts.

“So,” Mitch grunted. “It’s finally happening, isn’t it?”

Zero blinked at him in surprise. “Yes,” he said cautiously. “You know about all this?”

“I do.”

He almost scoffed. “Who are you really?”

“A friend.” Mitch checked his wristwatch. “Chopper should be here any moment. It’ll take us to a private airfield, where we’ll hop a plane out west.”

Zero deflated. It didn’t seem like he was getting any more answers out of the mysterious mechanic. “Thanks,” he murmured once more. Then he turned back to say goodbye to his girls.

“You’re back,” said the mechanic behind him. “Aren’t you?”

Zero turned. “Yeah. I’m back.”

“When?”

He chuckled. “Today, if you can believe it. It’s been a very strange afternoon.”

“Well,” Mitch said. “I wouldn’t want to disappoint you.”

Zero froze. An electric tingle ran up his spine. Mitch’s voice had changed suddenly, no longer the grunting basso from just seconds prior. It was smooth and even, and so oddly familiar that Zero forgot about the Division and his situation and even his waiting daughters for a moment.

Mitch reached up beneath the brim of his trucker’s cap and rubbed his eyes. At least that’s what it looked like he was doing, but when his hand came away there were two tiny concave discs on his fingertips, crystalline blue.

Contacts. He was wearing colored contacts.

Then Mitch took off the trucker’s cap, smoothed his hair, and looked up at Zero. His brown eyes looked forlorn, almost ashamed, and in an instant Zero knew exactly why.

“Jesus.” His voice came out in a hoarse whisper as he looked at his eyes.

He knew those eyes. He’d know them anywhere. But it couldn’t be. It wasn’t possible. “Christ. You… you were dead.”

“So were you for a couple years there,” the mechanic said in his smooth, almost lilting tone.

“I saw your body,” Zero choked out. This can’t be real.

“You saw a body that looked like mine.” The burly man shrugged one shoulder. “Let’s not pretend I wasn’t always smarter than you, Zero.”

“Good god.” Zero looked him up and down. He’d put on about thirty pounds, maybe more. Grown out the beard. Wore the trucker’s cap and colored lenses. Changed his voice.

But it was him. He was alive.

“I don’t believe it.” He took two steps and hugged Alan tightly.

His best friend, the one who had his back on so many ops, the one who had helped him have the memory suppressor installed instead of killing him on the Hohenzollern Bridge, the one that Zero thought he had found dead, stabbed to death in an apartment in Zurich… he was here. He was alive.

He thought back to the discovery in Zurich. The dead man’s face had been puffy and bloated, and his mind had immediately linked the doppelganger to Reidigger. Your mind fills in the blanks , Maria had once told him.

Reidigger had faked his own death, just like he had helped Kent Steele fake his. And he had been living under the guise of a well-connected mechanic only twenty minutes away.

“All this time?” Zero asked. His voice was hoarse, and his vision blurred slightly as a well of emotions bubbled to the surface. “You’ve been keeping an eye on us?”

“As best I could. Watson helped.”

That’s right. Watson knows. It was John Watson who had first introduced Reid Lawson to Mitch the mechanic—but he had only done so when Reid’s daughters were taken, when the stakes were too high and the CIA was of little help.

“Does anyone else know?” Zero asked.

Alan shook his head. “No. And they can’t. If the agency catches on, I’m a dead man.”

“You could have told me sooner.”

“No, I couldn’t have.” Alan smiled. “Without your memory intact, would you have recognized me? Would you have believed me if I simply told you?”

Zero had to admit he had a point.

“Was it Dr. Guyer? Did you go to see him?”

“I did,” Zero said. “It didn’t work at the time. It happened later, with a trigger word. And now…” He shook his head. “Now I know. I remember. I have to stop it, Alan.”

“I know you do. And you know that there’s nothing I’d like more than to be by your side while you do.”

“But you can’t be.” Zero understood completely. Besides, Alan had a task that was, in Zero’s eyes, just as significant to stopping a war. “I need you to keep them safe.”

“I will. I promise I will.” Alan’s eyes lit up suddenly. “That reminds me, I have something for you.” He reached through the open window of his truck and pulled out a Sig Sauer pistol. “Here. Compliments of the Division merc that assaulted your house.”

Zero took the pistol incredulously. “The Division was at my house? What happened?”

“Nothing we couldn’t handle. Those two are definitely your kids.” Alan grinned, but it faded quickly. “You need help too, you know. Call Watson. Or your new pal, the Ranger.”

“No,” Zero said adamantly. He refused to compromise Watson or Strickland any further than he already had. “I’m better on my own.”

Alan sighed. “Just as bullheaded as ever.” In the distance, the telltale rotors of a helicopter drew nearer. “That’s our ride. You take care of yourself, Zero.”

“I will.” He hugged Reidigger once more. “Thank you for doing this. When all this is over, you and I are going to sit down and have a very long conversation over several beers.”

“You got it,” Reidigger agreed. But there was a melancholic dip in his tone, one that suggested he was thinking the same as Zero was at the moment—that one or both of them might not survive this ordeal. “Until then—don’t trust them.”