David Golemon - Primeval

"Predictable, Agent Simpson. Now, if you will come with us, our transportation is waiting."

Lynn gathered herself and spit as far as she could toward the dark-haired Dmitri Sagli. The blood struck the small man's leather coat. He smiled and then with his right hand, backhanded her across the face, making her angrier, but still just as helpless as before.

"You Americans have always been fond of the term, to kill two birds with one stone. " The former Russian KGB assassin looked about at the dead Canadian agents and smiled. "Now we have managed to kill a whole flock of Canadian geese and catch one American songbird with one stone."

As the Russian watched Lynn being loaded into the waiting Gazelle, he shook his head in wonder at how stupid the West was becoming. They thought everything revolved around dead ideologies dating back to the Cold War, and that was what made their actions predictable. The game had changed for the ex-KGB men and the West just couldn't follow along. It was now all about personal power, not ideology.

As Dmitri Sagli turned for the helicopter, he saw Punchy Alexander move a few feet away from him. He slowly walked up to the prone Canadian agent and placed his foot at the back of his head and then pointed the same automatic weapon he had used to kill Serta in Seattle, he turned and smiled at Lynn Simpson, almost as if making sure she was watching, and then he fired three times into Alexander's back. He then moved off toward the Gazelle, putting the weapon away and buttoning his coat as he did.

As the Gazelle lifted free of the street, it left behind three dead American field officers and eleven Canadians, the largest massacre of Western intelligence personnel in history.

The Bell Ranger soon overtook the French-built helicopter to escort it, and together they both headed toward the border, flying south toward New York.

Assistant Director of Intelligence Nancy Grogan eased herself into one of the two chairs facing the director's desk. Harmon Easterbrook eyed her as she sat and placed a red-bordered file on the desk's edge. Briefly, she looked to her left at Assistant Director of Operations Stan Rosen, and then quickly nodded. Rosen in turn did not grant her the favor of his own greeting. She ignored the snub and listened to the one-way conversation going on in front of her.

"Yes, sir, we'll get a full report of everything we have over to you as soon as we can gather the Intel. Yes, Mr. President, a full accounting."

As the director hung up the phone, he kept his fingers on the handle for the briefest of moments; it was as if he were thinking about his words before he spoke them. He then half smiled, but the humor was lost somewhere between the eyes and the mouth. He looked directly at Grogan.

"Needless to say that was the president. Can you guess what was on his mind this morning?"

"The incident in Montreal would be my guess, and a pretty accurate one I—"

"I was asking Nancy, Stan," Easterbrook said, his eyes never leaving the fifty-two-year-old woman.

"I take full responsibility for what happened. Simpson was there with my full knowledge."

"With three of my field agents, now dead," Stan Rosen said glaring over at his intelligence counterpart.

"Look, if we thought it was anything more than just a sighting, we would have been there in force; as it was, it was an anonymous source that let us know Sagli and Deonovich were in the country. We had nothing other than some grainy photography that it was even them. So, Lynn asked if she could go and investigate. She did it by the book, went through channels and—"

"Got a Canadian CSIS field team wiped out, an American responsible for northeastern American intelligence kidnapped, and three of my people killed."

The assistant director lowered her head for the briefest of moments, but then gathered herself.

"Lynn is the brightest person I have in my entire department. Hell, she's easily my replacement, she outthinks everyone here at the Farm and you know it. This is something more than just Sagli and his buddy being here for theft."

"Explain," Easterbrook said, motioning for Rosen to be quiet.

"We don't even know why they were in Canada. And the mass murder in Seattle? The Seattle authorities are saying a possible motivation was theft, but as of yet they are saying nothing is missing from this Russian's apartment. Now we have Sagli and Deonovich breaking into what amounts to be a museum in Montreal for theft once more? As I said, not their style. There's something more here than we know at the moment."

"It's my understanding that your person has been making life very miserable for Sagli and Deonovich for more than three years, at least since I put her there after her stint in Afghanistan. Hell, she may be responsible for them being on the run; what's worse, they know it's her putting pressure on them from this end. Now, let me know, is this a vengeance thing or something else? Operations has to know so we can treat this accordingly."

The director nodded. "Stan has a valid point," watching Grogan carefully for her reactions.

Grogan turned and fixed her operations counterpart with a raised brow.

"That's right; for once I had someone at that desk who was capable of doing that particular job. Lynn dug her teeth into those two and hung on. They are wanted in this country for the murder of federal agents, including our own. Everywhere they went in Moscow, Minsk, Kiev, and even Kurdistan, she had our people watching them. She was making life miserable by letting their prospective clients and associates be aware their time was drawing to a close. Finally, and this is in my monthly departmental report, she was authorized by me to forward the file to Russian intelligence on their activities. That file included outlays for taking out certain Russian politico's in Moscow who they deemed dangerous to their illegal operations. Evidently, the new Russian president moved on that evidence and sent them scurrying."

"And now your girl wonder is in their hands. Does that make you feel better?" Rosen asked giving back the raised brow look.

"That's uncalled for, Stan. I need you both to work together on this. The Canadian PM just threatened the president with public disclosure. We have to get this thing under some kind of control and get him answers. I want a full court press on this."

"Even though I despise the way this came down, I have to tell you that I think the prime minister is bluffing. His people were there also; what can he say? He doesn't know what his intelligence services are doing? Besides, he has separatist protests and outright riots in Montreal he has to deal with and something like this could only add to his French-speaking provincial problems."

"How is their guy doing?" Easterbrook asked.

"John Alexander is one tough nut. As I told you in numerous reports, he's one of the good guys and the bastard's hard to kill. He'll recover. He was wearing his vest. He's a real pro."

"Good, good. Now—"

"If I know him, he'll want in on whatever it is we do about this. He and Simpson were close. They both spent time with MI-5 in Birmingham on the Al-Qaeda thing. Evidently, he's a close friend of her family."

"If he asks, we'll allow it as a professional courtesy. That's the least we can do," Easterbrook said, nodding that their brief meeting was concluded.

Nancy Grogan cleared her throat. The director looked up and Rosen sat back in his chair.

"You have something else?"

"Lynn Simpson."

"I want her back. If not, I want the men who killed her."

"It's not that, sir. There's a reason why she is as good as she is. Why she's pegged to be a company leader in the near future. It seems to run in her blood."

"Get to the point," Easterbrook ordered.