Brad Taylor - The Polaris Protocol

We rounded a temple and I saw the Ghost sitting with three other men. The one on the end reacted first, and I recognized the devil from Tepito. He raised a weapon and began firing. Jennifer split right, behind a stone head, and I went left, diving into the protection of a brick wall. I rose and saw the American running full out toward the museum, screaming, with his arms over his head, the devil firing at his back. I snapped two rounds, hitting the devil in the upper body and causing him to drop the gun. But it didn’t put him down. He whirled and sprinted into the temple behind him.

I focused back on the table, seeing Knuckles and Blood closing on the Ghost and one other man running through the trees toward the fence that fronted Paseo de la Reforma Avenue. Blood broke left, into the temple, and I leapt up, reaching the Ghost at the same time as Knuckles.

Out of the corner of my eye I saw Jennifer take a knee, pulling security toward the museum. Knuckles closed down the other half of our circle, facing the direction the other target had run and getting a status from Blood on the radio. I turned toward the Ghost, who was lying on the ground.

I jerked him to his feet, pointed at the two laptops on the table, and said, “Is this it? Which one is the device?”

He screamed, “No! Farooq has it. The man running toward the road.”

I dropped him, turned to Knuckles, and said, “Go.”

He took off and I began coordinating, “Decoy, bring the vehicle down Paseo de la Reforma. Precious cargo is on foot, headed to the fence. Interdict him. Blood, Blood, status?”

I had barely gotten the words out of my mouth when he rounded the corner of the temple. “Both guys are in the crowd. I never saw the American, but the other guy is headed to the entrance. You want me to move to the front?”

“Negative. We’re getting the device.”

The Ghost grabbed my arm. “It’s running. He’s initiated it.”

Shit.

I said, “Let’s go. Jennifer, get on the Ghost. Get him out of here.”

We began crashing through the foliage and I heard the Ghost shout something at my back. I ignored him and continued on, huffing into my radio. “Knuckles, what do you have?”

His answer came back the same way, as if he were panting it out. “He’s at the fence. He’s climbing. I’m not going to reach him before he’s over.”

“Decoy, Decoy, status?”

“I’m coming. I’m coming. I got him when he clears the fence. Pike, the GPS in our car has gone haywire.”

Blood had left me behind, running through the woods like a deer. He closed on Knuckles and I heard, “He’s over. Decoy, Decoy, he’s over.”

“Roger. I see him. I see him. He’s coming to the road about a hundred meters up.”

I said, “Stop his ass. Run him over if you have to.”

I saw Knuckles ahead, halfway up the fence, Blood leaping up right behind him. I sprinted as fast as I could, hearing the worst.

“Pike, Pike, he’s got help. A car just hopped the curb and he’s in it. They’re mounted now.”

Interdict the car? Have Decoy slam into them?

“Can you stop them?”

“Not right here. I’ve got cars in between us. Knuckles, I got you. I’m ten seconds out.”

I leapt onto the fence and said, “Pull over. Pick us up.”

I flipped to the far side, hung for a split second, then dropped to the sidewalk, seeing Knuckles and Blood diving into the vehicle. I sprinted to the open door and heard a pop to my rear, at the museum, as loud as a gunshot fired right next to me. I crammed into the back of the SUV, Decoy hit the gas, and Knuckles said, “What the hell was that?”

I said, “I don’t know. Get moving.” Then it dawned on me.

Oh man. The ankle cuffs. The GPS thinks he’s out of the boundary.

For a moment I couldn’t concentrate because of what I’d done to the Ghost. I’d promised him safety, and I’d maimed him for life instead. Quite possibly killed him. That’s what he was shouting when you ran away.

He was a terrorist, but he was also human. He was my charge, my responsibility, and I hadn’t thought through what would happen if they initiated the device for any length of time greater than a simple five-second test.

The SUV jerked to the left, slamming my body against the door and bringing me back to the mission. Decoy said, “See that yellow sedan? That’s him.”

“Get on him. Knock him off the road. Everybody, the device is running. Don’t waste time trying to subdue anyone. Interdict the car and kill all inside. Find the device and shut it down.”

I called Jennifer, “Koko, Koko, what’s your status?”

I got no response. “Koko, Koko, status?”

I felt a sour, nauseous sense of dread. She was on the Ghost when his cuffs had gone off. Please don’t let her have been hurt by my stupidity.

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Jennifer watched Pike and Knuckles race into the woods, then turned to the Ghost, putting her front sight post on his head.

“Get up. Now. We need to clear the area.”

He screamed, “The device is on! It’s on!”

“I know that,” she snarled. “Get your ass up, now!”

“My cuffs are going to blow. The POLARIS protocol has tricked them into thinking I’m somewhere else!”

Jennifer heard the words and took a step back, wondering if he was lying. She knew from personal experience the man was deadly and wicked smart.

The Ghost looked at her and pleaded, “Please … take them off. I’m running out of time.”

Pike had ensured that every member of the team held a key that would unlock the cuffs in case emergency action was necessary, just as every prison guard had the ability to unlock their charges. But doing so would release the Ghost into the world without any controls. Something akin to opening the cage of a wolf inside a nursery.

She knelt down, keeping the barrel of her Glock on his head, the suppressor wobbling from the adrenaline. She touched the ankle cuff on his right leg and felt it vibrating. She leapt back.

“How long? How much time since they started?”

“I don’t know. Please, don’t let this happen. I won’t hurt you. I’ll follow you wherever you want. Do whatever you say. Just don’t let this thing maim me.”

She instinctively wanted to help but now had a second dilemma: If she tried to remove the cuffs, she could have her hands blown off because the time ran out.

She looked into his eyes, enlarged through the thick glasses he wore, and saw despair. Along with resignation. He thinks he’s doomed. He believes nobody like me will help him. Believes I want him to suffer.

She laid the Glock on the ground and ripped through her pockets for the key. He sat up, an incredulous expression on his face. She knelt down, frantically working the circular laser key into the right cuff. She got it off and flung it far into the woods. Hands shaking, she went to work on the left cuff, wasting precious seconds getting the key inserted. She twisted, and the lock refused to move. Her brain screamed for her to run, screamed that the fuse was reaching the end.

She jerked the key left and right without result, then took a deep breath, willing herself to relax. She pulled the key from the lock, blew on its grooves to remove any blockage, then reinserted it, the clock in her head now banging in a crescendo.

The lock turned, releasing the cuff. She snatched it away and threw it backhand over her body. It went seven feet from her hand and exploded, the shock wave slapping into her head. She felt a stinging pain in her shoulder and rolled on the ground.

She heard nothing in her ears but ringing. She sat up and found the Ghost standing above her, holding her weapon.

The last thing she saw was the barrel of the heavy suppressor coming at her temple.

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