Mark Young - Off the grid

Resigned, Joe leaned back. “Talk to Alena, Gerrit. Let her tell you her side of the story.”

Before answering, Gerrit glanced toward the cliffs and saw her still standing on the edge, peering into the night. “I promise. Now, just let these guys take care of you.”

Joe seemed satisfied. “Okay guys, let’s get this over with.” They scooped him up and made their way to the second chopper.

Washington, D.C.

Stuart leaned back in his banker’s chair, the red leather creaking under his weight. He glanced at the clock; it was now three hours after midnight. Still no word from Kane. Other reports came in about a firefight at the lab in Washington. Outcome unknown.

He fingered the phone for a moment before dialing his contact in Seattle. The phone rang three times before he heard someone pick up on the other end.

A man’s voice, tense and alert, answered. “Yeah?”

“This is Stuart.” He waited for a moment to let the name sink in. “Kane’s associate.”

“Yes, sir. What can I do for you?”

“Do you have any word on how our friend is doing?”

“Kane?”

“Exactly.”

“I’ve been monitoring radio transmissions and sent a text message a while ago. Got nothing. Now I’m copying that federal authorities have been alerted. FBI. ICE. Secret Service, and CIA. I think our friend and his people may have…fallen.”

Stuart thought for a moment before speaking. “I need you to sit tight. Take no chances. I may have you pick up where Kane failed. Are you up for the job?”

Stuart could almost hear the greed in the man’s voice. “You bet, sir. I will have to close things down here first. I assume you want me to relocate to your area.”

“Yes. As soon as possible. We need to start assessing the damage and moving forward on our other projects.”

“Give me a week.”

“Two days.” Stuart hung up.

He sat back in his chair, waiting; he knew another call would be coming in at any moment. He grimaced as his phone vibrated on the desk. He picked it up and saw The White House identified on its face.

Stuart listened to the caller speak, then cleared his throat. “Project Megiddo has been launched, but the main facility has been compromised.”

The caller rattled on as Stuart patiently waited for the man to stop speaking. “No. We need to regroup and push on. This is just a temporary setback. We are taking all necessary steps to sanitize the situation.”

Again, the caller launched into a tirade Stuart knew he had to endure. “Yes, sir. I promise you, there will be no blowback. I have already taken steps to make sure this never happens again. Even if they try to live off the grid.”

He quietly hung up and stared out into the night.

The war has just begun.

Gerrit watched the second helicopter lift off, carrying his uncle to the nearest hospital in Seattle that handled medevacs. Beck and Jack should be here soon.

As darkness swallowed up the helicopter, his gaze caught a figure standing on the edge of the cliff.

Alena.

He took a deep breath and walked toward her. She stood with her back to him. He drew near. “Hey, they just airlifted Joe out of here kicking and complaining. I think he’ll be all right.”

She didn’t say anything, nor did she move.

“I think we put a real dent in Kane’s operation-or whoever’s pulling his chain.”

“There will always be someone else trying to kill us.” Alena’s words seemed laced with bitterness and tiredness.

“Then we just keep on fighting. We can’t give up.”

She finally turned toward him, grief and regret filling her eyes. “I’m so sorry, Gerrit.”

He shrugged. “Joe gave me a quick rundown on what happened. That you tried to save my dad.”

She ran a hand through her hair, sadness seeming to be pressing down on her. “I tried to think back on all the information I gave Kane about your dad. Before I came to know your folks. It haunts me that that information might have been used to kill them.”

“How did you get mixed up with Kane?”

Alena faced the water again. “It is a long story, Gerrit. And not a very pretty one.”

“I need to know, Alena. I need to know if we’re going to continue to work together.”

She looked back, inquisitive. “You would still work with me? After…”

He let her words wing their way into the night, thinking about what her question implied. “All I know is that you tried to save my father. That you turned away from Kane once you learned the truth about him. I need to know about Kane and his group. To help me put everything in perspective.”

Alena looked at him for a moment, then turned to gaze at the water once again. “Kane found me in Russia. I was much younger, and my boyfriend-if you want to call him that-used me in his gang activities. Used me to get information. To help the gang set up scores. And he taught me how to fight. How to use weapons and to create false identifications. How to exist in a society in which violence and power were the only commodities others respected.”

“How did Kane find you?”

She turned toward Gerrit. “His group-whoever he was working for-would use my boyfriend’s connections to get information and access to Russian organized-crime leaders. My boyfriend used me in these operations, and I caught Kane’s eye about the same time my boyfriend was killed.”

“I think he had plans for me way back then. Got me out of the gangs by arranging a visa for me and my folks to move to Israel. Once there, I was recruited into the Israeli army at Kane’s direction. Spent a few years learning how to fight, and then an opportunity came up to work intelligence. Again, I think Richard pulled the ropes.”

“Pulled the strings.” Gerrit gave a half smile. He saw the strain on her face as she dredged up the past.

“One day, he asked if I would like to join a unique unit of people working for him. He said they were trying to create a global community between nations, to help bring peace and stability on an international scale. After my parents were killed by terrorists, it was not hard to persuade me to work for peace. Kane got my Israeli handlers to approve my transfer to his outfit.

“He started working on me the first moment we met, luring me away with promises of a new life, a chance to live in the United States.”

“That’s how you got connected to my father?”

She nodded, her shoulders sagging. “Later, after I’d been with Richard for a few years and participated in some of his clandestine operations, he assigned me to make contact with your father through Thomas’s work and to assess whether he might be a threat to our overall operation. We hit it off right away. Before I knew it, Thomas had me coming over to his house, having dinner with him and your mom.”

Her words seemed to choke her. It took a moment before she brought herself under control. Finally, she took a deep breath and continued. “It was the first real home I had ever been in since my folks died. That’s where I first saw you…your pictures all around the house. They were so proud of you, Gerrit. Off serving your country.”

He thought of the last conversation he had with his dad, fighting over the fact he was returning to combat. His father didn’t seem proud at the time.

She turned, her eyes glistening as light from the helipad shone on them. He thought she might have been crying, but he could not be sure.

“Your mom even mentioned that you and I should meet when you returned home.”

He shook his head, not knowing what to say.

“She was worried about you. That you never took time to enjoy life. To date. Any of that normal stuff.”

“She seemed to share a lot about me. Little did she know-”