Brett Battles - Shadow of Betrayal

Peter seemed to be the only one interested in the first three monitors. Since this was a solo incursion, and the only potential backup was several miles away, Peter knew he was all the protection the agent had. It was up to him to raise a warning if he saw anyone else on one of the screens. He had argued that this operation should have waited until an adequate team could have been put in place, but he had been outvoted.

“Agent Douglas knows what she’s doing,” Chercover had said.

“And we want to keep this low profile,” Furuta added.

It wasn’t the way Peter liked to run things, but he didn’t have much of a choice. Perhaps if he had been the one to hire the agent, he could have pulled rank. But she was CIA, and part of the National Intelligence apparatus. That made her Chercover’s responsibility. Peter’s search team had been following another lead that had taken them north into Canada, and Chercover hadn’t wanted to wait until they could return.

The only concessions Peter was able to get were to equip Douglas with the surveillance equipment they were now using to watch her movements, and to delay the incursion long enough so that Peter could send a small strike team up from D.C. to act as backup if necessary.

The image on monitor four stopped in front of a doorway.

“I think this is it,” Agent Douglas said, her voice coming over the speaker. “Someone’s tried to distress it, but it still looks out of place. Don’t know if you noticed, but most of the other doors were wood. This one’s metal.”

Chercover glanced at Peter. “Locked?” he asked.

Peter raised the small microphone he was holding to his lips. “Is it locked?”

A hand shot into the frame and grabbed the knob. Agent Douglas tried to twist it, but it moved less than a quarter inch before stopping.

“Yes, locked,” she said. “I think I should take a look at what’s inside. Am I cleared?”

Peter looked at the two men. Without moving his gaze from the monitor, Chercover nodded once.

“You’re cleared,” Peter said into the mic. Then added unnecessarily, “Be careful.”

Agent Douglas pulled out a lock pick set, then set to work on the keyhole. Peter glanced again to the other monitors, making sure she was still alone. His gaze lingered on the lobby shot displayed on monitor number two. It seemed as though something was different. A shadow perhaps, but everything was dark on darker, so there was no telling for sure.

“If it doesn’t feel right, get the hell out of there,” he said as he returned his attention to monitor four.

“I’m fine,” she said, her tone displaying her displeasure at being interrupted.

After several seconds, she stopped what she was doing, then turned the knob again. This time it moved.

“Got it,” she said. She stood up. “Okay. I’m going in.”

“I’m not liking this,” Peter said, both into the mic and to his two guests. If the door was hiding something important, it shouldn’t have been this easy to open. “Something feels wrong. I’m sending the strike team over.”

“It’s fine,” Agent Douglas said. “A strike team isn’t trained to look for things the same way I am. They might unintentionally mess up something we need.”

“My men are trained for all sorts of situations. They’ll be okay.”

“If she says she can handle it on her own, then we should let her,” Chercover said. He leaned toward the microphone in Peter’s hand. “Agent Douglas, do you feel you need assistance?”

“No, sir,” Agent Douglas replied. “The first sign of a problem, I’ll pull myself out.”

“You may proceed then,” Chercover said. He straightened back up and looked at Peter. “Your concern is noted, but this is a special circumstance.”

“It’s always a special circumstance,” Peter said, knowing very well he’d used the same excuse himself several times in the past.

“Of course it is,” Furuta said.

All three men watched as Agent Douglas pushed the door open. The room beyond showed up as pitch-black on the monitor. Whatever light there was filtering in from the hallway didn’t make a dent in the abyss.

“Can you see anything?” Peter asked.

“Hold on,” she said.

A few seconds later a bright light swept across the wall next to the doorway, then a flashlight came into view in Agent Douglas’s hand. She aimed it through the new opening. At first it seemed to have no effect, then the camera moved closer to the threshold and tilted downward.

“Can you see it?” she asked.

There was a short landing, then five or six steps descending into the darkness.

“A stairway?” Peter said.

“Yes,” she confirmed. “Appears to be pretty solid. Made of wood, I think.”

“Can you see how far down it goes?”

The image from the camera moved through the doorway, then tilted downward with the slope of the staircase. Even then, the optics and the compression caused by the satellite transmission kept most of the room’s details in darkness.

“It goes pretty far. Definitely more than one story.”

“What do you mean?” Peter asked, trying to imagine what she was describing in his mind.

“The floor of the room is a good one and a half to two stories down. The stairs double back halfway down so they can fit.”

“Can you make out anything on the floor below?”

“Not really,” Agent Douglas said, then paused. The view on the camera swung methodically from side to side and up and down as she examined her surroundings. “Okay. I’m heading down.”

The camera bobbed upward once, then angled down as Agent Douglas moved her right foot onto the top step.

“So far so good,” she said.

Her left foot came into view, then settled on the next step down. Peter could hear her breathing, deep but steady.

Another step down.

Then another.

Then, “Shit!”

Before Peter had even registered what she had said, a bright flash and loud explosion overpowered the monitors, turning the image on the screen into a blur of whipping shapes and colors. There was nothing recognizable or coherent.

“Agent Douglas!”

The roar from the speakers became a series of booms and crashes.

Then, just as suddenly as the incident began, it stopped, the image from the camera now as still as those on monitors one, two, and three. And the only noise was an occasional creaking or muffled thud.

“Agent Douglas?” Peter repeated into the mic.

There was no response.

“Tasha,” he said, using her first name. “Can you hear me?”

She remained silent.

CHAPTER

6

“I’M SENDING IN THE STRIKE TEAM,” PETER SAID.

“Hold on,” Chercover said. “We need to think about this for a moment.”

“For God’s sake, she might still be alive. I don’t give a damn what you want to do. I will not leave an agent down.”

Peter snatched up his cell phone from where he’d left it earlier, next to monitor three. He had prepped it for just such an emergency, and only had to touch the screen once to connect the call.

The strike leader answered after a single ring.

“Situation’s gone critical,” Peter said. “Move in fast. Agent down, condition unknown. Booby-trapped, but no hostiles have been spotted. Go. Now.” Once he was off the phone, he looked back at his clients. “Next time maybe you’ll listen to me when I have concerns about an operation.”

Furuta turned toward Peter, slow and deliberate. There was no concern at all in the man’s eyes for the situation. “Risks are part of the job. Agent Douglas has always been aware of that. We would assume you would be, too. But if you are unwilling to take those risks, maybe we need to rethink our working relationship.”