Swords Of Exodus Part 26

"Yeah," my friend agreed. "Bad op. I got home, I tried to go work for my parents, do a regular job. I tried really hard at that for almost a year."

"So did I, Jeff."

"What did you do?" he asked.

"Security guard."

"I sold camera equipment." He had always been an avid photographer. He had taken about three quarters of the pictures I had from my Vanguard days. "I did that for a while, but I got . . . I don't know, restless. I couldn't sleep at night and had nightmares when I could. When I thought about some of the s.h.i.+t we did, man . . . I don't know. Someday we're all going to stand before G.o.d to be judged. What am I going to tell him? How am I going to explain the s.h.i.+t we did? We got paid really well? It seemed like it was necessary at the time? It was what I was told to do?"

"I think I'd ask him where in the h.e.l.l he was when all of those horrors we saw were going on."

"It started eating me up, Val, bad," Skunky said.

"Me too, sometimes." In our former profession, we put on a legitimate facade, prettied up what we did by saying we were providing security, ensuring stability, or protecting VIPs. All of that was basically true. We got our hands dirty and fought other people's wars. You can tell yourself that it was just a job, that they were bad guys you killed, but when you're alone on a quiet night, you can't fool yourself with that c.r.a.p. You know what you did. It ate at me too, sometimes.

"We killed people for money." Skunky was more religious than most of my teammates had been. He was the only one on Switchblade 4 that made any effort to attend regular church service. He was a good man, a better human being than a lot of the people I worked with. He didn't really seem cut out for the work we did. He looked right through me. "So now what are you killing for?"

I didn't deny it. What Hawk had said about me was right, whether or not I realized it back then. I'm a killer. It's what I do. Everyone is good at something, and G.o.d forgive me, that's what I'm good at. I couldn't imagine doing anything else. When I tried to do something else, I was miserable, and that was how I ended up in Zubara. I think that's how I ended up at The Crossroads, too. Maybe it was just my calling.

"I don't know."

"Well I do." Skunky was a more decent human being than I was, but he was a killer too. Deep down, he knew it. "Same reason you're here now, I think. I was falling to pieces back home. The only time I'd find any peace was when I'd go camping up in the mountains alone. Even working for my parents I felt completely alone. They didn't know what I'd been doing overseas. I think my dad sort of knew, but I never talked about it. I couldn't bear to tell them. How do you tell your parents that, yeah, this one time, we mowed down a bunch of protestors in front of a government ministry with automatic weapons?"

I winced as I recalled the incident. That, too, had been a bad op. "Those protestors were shooting at us, Jeff. That's how Roberts and Bigelow bought it, don't you remember?"

"I know, I know. But how many people did we kill that day? Dozens? How many women and kids? G.o.d help me, Val, it was eating me alive. Once I got home, and had peace and quiet, and lived in the normal world, it was eating me alive."

The protestors in that incident had deliberately brought as many women and children as they could with them. Many of the women and children were armed and were shooting at us. Not that that makes you feel any better when you're surveying a mound of corpses.

"I couldn't talk to anyone. I couldn't relate to anyone. I was alone and I was miserable."

"You had PTSD," I said bluntly. "It's okay, I've been told I do too."

"I know. I didn't know it at the time, but I know now. We're both pretty f.u.c.ked up, you know that? So then I get this email from Ling, asking me to join Exodus."

"I got the same one. I d.a.m.n near did it, too. If Tailor hadn't approached me, I probably would've taken Ling up."

"I did it. It took me all of a minute to decide."

"So what's it like?"

"I've been on a couple of missions. I can't really talk about what I do. You're not a sworn member of the order, blah blah blah."

I grinned. "No worries, don't get yourself in trouble."

"Anyway, most of what Exodus does isn't violence. I know that's what gets all the press, but that's not what it's about. We help people. We free people from slavery. We bring down warlords. We allow food aid to get to starving people. We bring dictators and warlords down. Exodus helped overthrow Muammar Gaddafi, did you know that? We were in Syria too."

I scoffed. "Look how well that mess turned out. I've been in the business of overthrowing nations, man. It never works out the way you think it's going to."

"I know. You can hand people liberty but you can't make them keep it. After that, and what you guys pulled in Zubara, the order got much less enthusiastic about operating in the Middle East."

"That's a smart decision, I think. So I take it you're a true believer? No offense. You just seem into it."

"You have to be, dude. It's given me a purpose. Once you learn about Exodus' history, its founding, and the role it's played in shaping history . . . we are trying to make the world a better place. And we're not trying to do it by social engineering, or telling people how to live, or trying to take control or gain power. We believe in freedom, and that freedom is worth fighting for. Dying for."

"Killing for," I added.

"Yes," he agreed grimly. "And that's why we're so d.a.m.ned good at what we do."

I wasn't sure what to say to that.

VALENTINE.

Crossroads City March 18th I found myself sitting in the left-hand pa.s.senger's seat of a right-hand-drive Toyota Hilux Surf SUV. Ling was at the wheel, beeping the horn at a slow-moving ox cart as we tried to make our way across town.

She swore in Chinese as she stepped on the clutch, s.h.i.+fted gears, and pa.s.sed the cart. Another horn sounded as we only very narrowly avoided hitting a huge Russian 6x6 truck head-on. Ling cursed again and stepped on the gas. I'd just learned that Ling had a case of road rage, but I still didn't know where we were going. I'd been roused out of bed in the predawn darkness and told to get dressed. I had no idea what was happening.

"Mr. Lorenzo told Ibrahim that he has a proposal for Exodus. Ibrahim is the overall commander of this operation, but he wanted to consult with the leaders.h.i.+p before making any decisions. We're going to that meeting."

Exodus spies had told us that Lorenzo and his team had safely returned to the Glorious Cloud. They did not approach him to ask where he'd been, though, for fear of tipping their hand.

"So why am I going?" I asked. I wasn't even a member of Exodus, much less part of the leaders.h.i.+p.

"You know Lorenzo better than most of us," Ling said.

I supposed that was true. "Only because we've tried to kill each other."

"That is the best way to truly understand someone." She smiled. "Ibrahim doesn't know him at all, so any of us who have worked with him will be there. We want to get a feel for what he has to say, whether or not he is telling the truth."

"The man is a professional liar and that's a giant understatement. I'm not sure having us there is going to help anyone know that Lorenzo's being sincere. I'm sure he's very, very good at feigning sincerity."

"I'm well aware," Ling insisted. "But you and I also know more of his background, and we've seen his home. We have leverage over him that he's undoubtedly unused to. It might give us an advantage."

I rubbed my eyes. "All this skullduggery is giving me a headache."

"It won't be so bad. Think of it this way, at least we get to-" Ling cut the wheel hard to the left as a rusted fuel tanker truck pulled out in front of us from a narrow alley. She laid on the horn and what she was saying melted into a swath of Mandarin obscenities. I grasped the "oh s.h.i.+t!" handle and hung on for dear life. Such was rush hour in a place with no traffic laws.

Somehow, we made it to our destination unscathed. We parked behind a deteriorating Soviet-era warehouse and, after having our ident.i.ties confirmed, were hurried inside by the guards. The warehouse was dimly lit, and full of vehicles, supplies, shelves, and stacks of crates. The air stunk of dust, must, and years of neglect.

There were many Exodus personnel present, going about their daily tasks. Some were working on a truck engine. Others were cleaning weapons. Some were doing push-ups and pull-ups. We were hurried past them, through the warehouse, into a small office in the back. The echoing sounds of the building were m.u.f.fled as the door was closed.

Lorenzo was there. I barely recognized him since he was dressed in dirty, drab clothing, topped with a surplus Russian military parka. He looked exactly like a resident of The Crossroads. I probably would have missed him completely if he hadn't nodded at me. His eyes gave him away, though. I recognized his eyes. They darted everywhere, trying to scan every angle of the room. I had no doubt he'd arrived at the safe house unnoticed, like some kind of hobo ninja.

Also in the room was Ibrahim, who was quietly speaking with Lorenzo, as well as Katsumoto and a handful of other Exodus people that I didn't recognize. From their demeanor and their presence in the meeting, I gathered that they were the leaders.h.i.+p of this operation. Whatever Lorenzo had to say had certainly gotten their attention.

One of the Exodus men put an electronic device on the table and activated it. "The room is secure," he told Ibrahim. It must've been some kind of electronic jammer.

Ibrahim nodded, then turned to address the room. "Gentlemen," he began, then turned to Ling. "My lady," he said formally, grinning. Ling, to my astonishment, blushed and looked away briefly before regaining her composure. Ibrahim was a flirt. "Our ally, Mr. Lorenzo, comes to us with an interesting proposal. He was told to bring it to us, which has some disturbing implications. It seems our operational security has been compromised."

Everyone in the room was taken aback. Ling's eyes went wide, but Ibrahim held up his hands. "Not to fear, my friends. As far as we can tell, our presence here is not known to Sala Jihan or his subordinates. However, a third party has become aware of us."

"Who?" Ling asked. Though considering this town, none of the options were good.

Lorenzo stepped forward. "The Montalban Exchange."

"You gotta be s.h.i.+tting me," I muttered to myself. The Exodus leaders.h.i.+p began to murmur to each other.

"As far as I know, it's just a name. It's a remnant of the criminal organization that Big Eddie, Eduard Montalban, controlled. The Montalban brothers are both dead, as I'm sure you're all aware. Valentine back there killed one of them, and he was there when I shot the other one out of the sky. They're dead and good riddance." Lorenzo's normally calm composure cracked slightly; he hated Eduard Montalban with every fiber of his being. The fact that the man was dead gave him little comfort, it seemed, and he could barely conceal his contempt.

People began to bombard Lorenzo with questions. Before it could get out of hand, Ibrahim raised a hand, silencing the room again. "Mr. Lorenzo, why don't you explain to them what you told me?"

Lorenzo pinched the bridge of his nose, obviously annoyed, but took a deep breath and continued. "A couple days ago I was approached by a representative of the Montalban Exchange."

"Was it Anders?" I asked pointedly, interrupting Lorenzo. Most of the Exodus leaders.h.i.+p, looked at me with surprised expressions on their faces.

Lorenzo looked grim. "Yes." He must've seen my hackles rising. He very subtly moved his hand, quietly telling me to tone it down. I figured he'd fill me in later. He was right. I didn't need to go airing my grudge with Anders in front of all these people. "So when I say approached, I mean he tailed me, caught me at gunpoint when I made him, and then doped me. I get the impression they're a shadow of what they were under Rafael and Eddie, but they still seem to have a lot of resources, and they have a big problem with Sala Jihan and they want him dead. They want in on your planned operation. They're offering intelligence, personnel, and logistics."

"Intelligence, personnel and logistics?" one of the Exodus leaders asked. "What does that mean?"

"I'm a.s.suming that personnel, means they'll provide personnel," Lorenzo said dryly. "I don't know what they meant by logistics. Maybe supplies, maybe transportation. Intelligence is pretty self-explanatory."

"Who made you this offer?" Ling asked.

Lorenzo paused for a moment, as if lost in a memory. "A woman named Katarina. I used to work with her, a long time ago. She was on my team. I know her well."

"How is it that this woman came to head the Montalban Exchange?" one of the Exodus commanders I hadn't met yet asked.

"She's absolutely ruthless," Lorenzo answered. "That's really all it takes."

"Can we trust her?"

Lorenzo looked surprised by the question. "What? No. No, no. Not even a little bit. She's dangerous and violent."

"Then why should we go along with this?"

"I'm not saying you should," Lorenzo said. "I don't give a d.a.m.n what you people do. I'm just here to find my brother, and I'm just the messenger. If your raid fails, the chances of me finding my brother go from slim to none. But I can think of some reasons why you might want to consider it."

"What do you mean?" Ling asked.

Lorenzo's mouth split into a mean smile. "I know you guys think you're being all secret squirrel and everything, but you're not. You can't just put this many people into such a small area and not be noticed. I noticed, and I've only been here for a few days. Sala Jihan has been here for a lot longer, and the Montalban Exchange has already compromised you. Also, I haven't seen your battle plan obviously, but how in the h.e.l.l are you people planning on taking that fortress?"

"We are working on that," said Ibrahim.

"I've been inside that thing. Do you really think you have enough people? How are you going to get them up there? Do you have good intelligence on Jihan's compound? Do you know how many men he has? Do you know where they're all housed, how they're equipped, where their defensive positions are?"

Lorenzo was met with silence.

"Thought so. The Montalbans say they know. They told me to give this to you people." He retrieved a folded piece of paper from his pocket, and laid it on the table. The Exodus leaders.h.i.+p crowded around to get a better look.

"This is a map showing the interior defensive positions around the fortress," Ibrahim said. "Including where they house their antiaircraft weapons."

"Katarina says there's plenty more where that came from. She says her spies have infiltrated Jihan's operations. She's ready to make a move, but can't do it without you. You're ready to make a move, and she says you can't do it without her. Look, people, I've been inside Jihan's compound. I've met the man."

The room became uncomfortably silent.

Lorenzo was unfazed. "That's right, I was face to face with Sala Jihan at the bottom of his missile silo. He's not somebody to screw around with. I can give you guys information, but I only saw a little bit, and what I saw told me he's got a lot more armed motherf.u.c.kers than you guys have."

"What do you know of our strength?" someone asked indignantly.

Lorenzo scoffed. "Please. You aren't as good at this as you think you are, no offense. I don't know exactly how many people you have here, or what else you might be scheming at, but I know that Sala Jihan has an army in there, a lot more people and weapons than you people could have possibly smuggled into town. So unless you've got an air strike planned or something, you might want to at least hear the Montalbans out."

"And what does she want in return for our a.s.sistance?" Katsumoto asked.

"She wants The Crossroads. With Jihan gone, she believes her group can take control of this place and get a share of all of the business that goes on here."

"And trade one monster for another?" one of the Exodus leaders scoffed.

"No," another replied "We'd be trading an actual monster for a mere criminal."

Katsumoto and Ibrahim looked at each other for a long moment. Lorenzo didn't know about the plan to a.s.sault the dam. Neither did the Montalban Exchange, it seemed. The two Exodus commanders nodded at each other.

"I propose," Ibrahim said, "that we at least meet with the Montalban Exchange. They have compromised our OPSEC. If we decline the meeting, they could turn on us, or even expose us to Sala Jihan. We must move carefully, lest we be lured into a trap. You all know the gravity of the situation. Our footing isn't nearly as strong as I would like it to be. We need to be willing to take every advantage offered to us."

The room erupted into loud discussion. Lorenzo stepped away from the limelight and leaned against the wall. He seemed happy to no longer be the center of attention. Ling joined the energetic discussion as the Exodus leaders.h.i.+p argued among themselves.

Awkward. I stepped back. The debate reminded me I was an outsider. What are you doing here? I asked myself. This isn't your fight. I was so lost in my thoughts that Lorenzo was able to sneak up on me. He startled me as he materialized to my side.

"Valentine," he said curtly.

"What the f.u.c.k happened to you?" I asked, my voice lowered so the Exodus people couldn't hear. "What is Anders doing here?"

"Come on," Lorenzo said, indicating the door. "I need some air. Let's get away from these crazies." He walked out of the meeting room. We found a dark, quiet corner in the warehouse, away from prying ears, to talk. "You know this Anders guy? He's an a.s.shole."

"You have no idea," I said, not looking at him.

"Then fill me in," Lorenzo said. "The short version. You tend to ramble on when you start telling stories."

I raised an eyebrow at him. "Fine. Anders worked for Gordon Willis. He was, like, his right-hand man or something. Everywhere Gordon went, just about, Anders went with him. He was there in the office the day I was recruited. He was in Zubara. He was there when we raided Rafael Montalban's yacht, too, so I'm guessing he was in on Gordon's schemes."

"How do you know?"

"The yacht raid was not one of our planned operations. It was part of Gordon's plan, part of his deal with Eduard Montalban."

Lorenzo's eyes narrowed. "Makes sense. Go on."

"Anders is an ice-cold motherf.u.c.ker. I don't know if he feels pain. He kicked the s.h.i.+t out of half my team in Yemen, and he's the only man I've ever met that's a faster draw than me."

"You haven't seen me draw. What were you doing in Yemen?"