Matthew Dunn - Spycatcher

He entered the living room.

The four men looked at Will but did not move much when they saw him. Instead they remained standing and glanced at his bound and gagged mother before looking back at him. One of them smiled and spoke.

“Where is the money?”

Will felt sick, giddy, and overwhelmingly confused. He looked at his mother. Tape had been wrapped around her head and body. She was sitting on a chair, her eyes rolling in their sockets. He had never seen a human being look so ill and so odd.

“Where is the money, boy?”

He looked at his sister. She was curled into a ball on the floor, sobbing. One of the men had a large-booted foot planted on her head.

Will looked at the man who spoke and answered him with a voice that did not seem his own.

“What money?”

The men laughed loudly and then went silent. Their spokesman pointed a finger at Will.

“Big houses like this mean big money.”

Will shook his head and felt as if he’d done something wrong. He tried to make his voice strong and measured, but instead he just blurted the truth.

“We have no money. This house belongs to the government. My daddy used to work for them before he died. All the rich people around here know that we have nothing.”

Two of the men laughed again, but two of them did not. The spokesman was one of those who remained impassive and suddenly looked very scary. He took a step toward Will.

“Find us money, or we’ll kill your mother and your sister.”

Will looked at his mother. Her eyes were now closed, and her head had slumped down. He called to her.

“Mother?”

The scary man’s eyes widened.

“She can’t breathe. The clock is ticking, boy.”

Will felt a burning sensation in his brain and eyes and knew that it was the sensation that preceded tears. He looked at all the men. Even though Will was easily as tall as they were, they looked so big and strong and like nothing else he had seen.

He slowed his breathing. He saw his mother starting to twitch. He wanted to run to her. Words came from him without any evident thought behind them.

“I’ve told you the truth. But we have some cash in a drawer. If I get it for you, will you help my mother?”

The men glanced at one another. Three of them shrugged and nodded at their spokesman. That man then stepped closer to Will. His breath smelled bad.

“Get it. But if you run, we’ll kill her. Then we’ll do worse to your sister.”

Will’s mother was now no longer twitching or even moving at all. Will imagined that she was pretending to sleep. But he knew she was not. He turned and walked out of the living room. He walked into the kitchen and looked around. He walked to a drawer. He opened it and instantly thought about lemonade, as this was the drawer that contained the bottle opener to the glass-bottled brand of lemonade his mother bought for him. He brushed his fingers over the bottle opener and then moved them toward the carving knife that his mother used when slicing his favorite roast chicken.

He had always been scared of this knife, but now that he held it for the first time it felt so light and innocent in his hand. He convinced himself that it would not be scary enough for the big men in the other room. He decided it wasn’t the knife that mattered but the hand carrying it.

He walked back into the room. He felt energized but no longer himself. He felt as if everywhere around him was on fire but only he could feel no heat or pain. He felt a blackness descend upon his mind.

He looked at the men and smiled.

And then he destroyed them.

Will looked up at the star-filled sky and exhaled. He shook his head and closed his eyes. He gripped his fist tight and felt his heart pounding strong and fast. He breathed rapidly before holding his breath and then exhaling again. He felt his heartbeat slow. He felt his body and mind calm. He opened his eyes, glanced at the stars again, and looked down at Lana’s mother’s door. He nodded toward it and whispered, “I’ll bring your daughter home soon. I swear.”

He turned back toward Central Europe and the perils it held.

Twenty-one hours later Julian Garces handed Will a backpack and said, “Everything you need is inside the bag.”

Will took it and nodded at the former air force special operative. “You’re satisfied you’ve obtained an accurate layout of the place?”

The big Hispanic man angled his head in assent. “I’m satisfied. And I’m also satisfied that this is going to be tough.”

The man turned and jogged off into the darkness. Will attached a radio earpiece to himself, and within a few minutes he heard Julian’s quiet voice. “One man is exiting the building. He enters parking lot. He halts at vehicle. He enters vehicle. He drives.” Julian said nothing for a moment before recommencing the commentary. “Vehicle moves on to Nedima Filipovicai. It drives onward. It’s now out of my sight. That should be the last of them, but continue to hold position.”

Will looked around the snow-covered business area of western Sarajevo. There were three rectangular office buildings here that shared two parking lots. Based on Julian’s reconnaissance of the place, Will knew that the Human Benevolence Foundation rented five rooms within the central building of the three. He also knew that a further twenty-two companies used the same building. But right now there was no evidence of business activity around the place. The lots were empty, and now that the last of their occupants had left work, the buildings were in darkness save for the glow from their sporadic external security lights. Nevertheless, Will remained alone in the shadows and awaited Julian’s instruction to proceed.

“Okay. My three-sixty sweep of the building is complete. Go.”

Will lifted the small knapsack and walked quickly around the perimeter of the three-building area. As he reached the westernmost point, he slowed his pace while focusing on his earpiece. Then he heard what he was waiting for.

“Stop. You’re at the camera’s blind spot.”

Will turned and looked at the building nearest him. Julian had told him that he needed to tread a very careful path across the fifty meters between where he now stood and the first building. He fixed his eyes on one specific part of the building and walked forward.

“You’re straying. Take one pace to the left and then continue.”

Will did as he was told and then moved forth. Within thirty seconds he was flush against the wall of the building. He stayed still for almost a full minute until Julian spoke again.

“Right. This is the tricky part. Do exactly what I say.”

Will knew that he would have to follow Julian’s instructions with split-second precision in order to avoid alerting the guard.

“Move to the southwest corner in three, two, one, go.”

Will sprinted twenty meters alongside the wall and then stopped.

“Hold. Hold.” Julian’s voice was calm. In twelve seconds he said, “Move.”

When Will had reached the next corner, he could see that the central building was approximately seventy meters away from him. He tightened the straps of his knapsack and waited.

“Okay. Turn to face the northwest corner of the target building. Take thirty of your paces. Ready in three, two, one, go.”

Will moved into position within this parking lot. He felt quite exposed in the open ground, although he knew that Julian’s instructions would give him perfect protection from the cameras.

“Adjust position to face the center of the building.”

Will did so.

“Good. This next part needs to be very fast. Nine meters per second. On my command. Three, two, one, go.”

Will sprinted as fast as he was able over the forty-meter distance and did not slow as he reached the building. He crashed into its wall and ignored the pain in his hands and shoulder wound from doing so.