Trained by Sansa Rayne

Chapter 16

Eyal steps out of the barn and says, “It’s time to go. There’s a helicopter inbound and numerous vehicles.”

Anton must have reactivated the trackers.

I check my watch. It’s been three hours, on the dot.

“How numerous?” I ask, noting the sound of a diesel engine getting closer. Our ride is almost here.

“At least twenty,” Eyal replies.

For fuck’s sake. The last time these New Jersey farms saw any action was probably the Revolutionary War — and that had men standing in lines firing muskets. This is going to be a lot worse.

“Are we almost ready?”

“Explosives are set,” says Eyal. “We’re all packed, but we won’t have much time to load the van.”

I nod.

“We’ll get as much as we can,” I say, thinking of the missiles. “And the rest, we’ll use.”

Eyal grins.

“Understood.”

“What can I do?” asks Kate.

I kiss her.

“I want you to stay safe. For now, just listen to the police scanner.”

Time flies as we work. Soon the van rolls up to the barn and Baptiste gets out.

He nods to Kate and says, “It’s nice to meet you.”

“Kate, this is Baptiste, our mobile operations coordinator.”

“Good to meet you, too,” she says.

Baptiste turns to me and says, “We have ten minutes at most.”

The implant cases emit an alarm; one vibrates.

“Anton just tried to kill you,” I tell Kate. “He must have thought you were trying to escape.”

“Fucking motherfucker,” she growls.

“He’s going to pay for that. But at least now he thinks you’re dead. That’s helpful. We’ll make sure he won’t know otherwise.”

Kate nods.

“Good.”

“All right, everyone,” I call out. “Let’s pack it up. Baptiste and Eyal, mount the missile launchers and keep an eye on the radar. Stan, Hank — we’re going to get all the guns and supplies loaded. Kate, help us stack and secure the cases.”

“Hey,” she says as we all head toward our tasks. “What did Eyal mean about explosives?”

I grin.

“You’ll see.”

For the next few minutes we scramble to load up the van. Like the one we used for the attack on Anton’s men at Vinegar Hill, it boasts a shielded, remote-aimed machine gun turret ready to fire on our attackers — this one deploys up through the roof, rather than out the side. The van’s so heavily armored, bullets will bounce off. Even most missiles will have a hard time penetrating the inches-thick steel sheets protecting us — assuming they can even score a hit. Additionally, the engine can put out enough horsepower to outrace a tank, despite the heavy load.

“Intercept in two minutes!” Baptiste announces. “Missiles ready!”

“Time to go!” I shout.

Eyal drives the van, easing it a safe distance from the barn. Stanislaw and Henrik take the Cadillac and follow the van. We take out sets of earmuffs for everyone; even from inside the van, this is going to be loud.

“Kate!” I yell, loading up an app on my phone. “Brace yourself!”

I hit the Detonate icon, and the barn behind us explodes. In a few minutes, any evidence left behind as to who was there and what we were doing will be incinerated. If they were hoping to find Kate’s body, they’ll be in for a disappointment. They won’t even find pieces of her implants.

Of course, creating a giant fireball and a plume of smoke visible for miles may as well tell Anton, Here we are, come and get us! But he already has our location anyway. Now he’s going to get a reminder of what happens when you fuck with Death.

“Attack helicopters!” Eyal shouts. “Twelve o’clock!”

Those must have cost Anton several million apiece. This is going to hurt.

The machine gun has a simple joystick controller connected to a tablet — I never played video games growing up, but this is as close as one gets to playing one in real life. A camera attached to the gun lets me see the incoming choppers, which are easy to make out against the gray skies. They’re out of range yet for the guns, though I could fire missiles at them. I’d rather save that surprise for now. They’re closing in for the attack; let’s see what they’ve got.

Anton’s men take the first shot: a missile of their own, headed directly for us.

“Prepare for evasive maneuvers!” Eyal shouts.

I glance at Kate; she’s strapped in properly. I hope she’s ready for a bumpy ride.

Eyal turns the van sharply at the last second, busting through a short wooden fence and into a field, causing the missile to blast the road behind us. Kate and I get tossed into our harnesses, but we stay put. Clods of dirt fall everywhere, but the van’s undamaged — and now the first chopper’s in range of the guns.

I hit the switch to open the turret doors and raise the gun into position. The helicopter banks to the side, but it can’t turn on a dime the way a car can. I fire the guns, releasing a torrent of hot lead that smacks into the aircraft. Its engines catch on fire and the chopper enters a tailspin, falling to the ground slowly at first, but then dropping like a stone.

“One down,” I mutter.

The second helicopter quickly evades to get out of range of the gun.

“Reports are coming in about the barn,” says Kate. “Police, EMS and fire are on the way.”

“Thanks. Keep listening!”

“Cars, up ahead!” says Eyal.

I train the machine gun forward in time to see the lead vehicle swerve to a stop, blocking the road. The driver gets out, using the door for protection. He trains his assault rifle on the van and opens fire.

“Brace for impact!” Eyal shouts.

Seeing that we’re not stopping, the mercenary scrambles away, just in time to avoid being crushed as our van glances past his car, tearing off its open door in the process. However, he doesn’t avoid Henrik and Stanislaw behind us in the Cadillac.

We can barely hear the gunshots inside the van, but then Stan says over the radio, “Got him.”

A clap of thunder bursts above us and a flash of lightning blacks out our monitors for a moment.

Eyal finds the road and floors the gas, forcing two of Anton’s cars to swerve off the road. I swing around the machine gun and spray both cars, aiming low to the ground to pop the tires. They burst as bullets rip apart the vehicles’ underbellies.

A squall of rain patters against the ceiling as another crack of thunder booms overhead.

“Missile incoming!” Eyal screams. “It’s gonna hit our side! Brace!”

I take Kate’s hand and squeeze. Then a fist slams into the van’s left side, lifting us onto two wheels for a protracted second but failing to pierce our armor. Kate grips my hand until we slam back down to the ground. Eyal corrects for the turn and steers us back on the road once more.

“Okay, that chopper’s gotta go. Missile locked — fire!”

A single rocket blasts out of the mounted launcher on the roof and soars toward the chopper. The missile is so small, there’s no way to see it coming — no time to evade or bail out.

The missile impacts the fuselage, detonating and tearing a chunk out of the chopper. It goes down, belching flames.

“The police are getting calls about the first helicopter,” says Kate. “They’re responding, and they’re escalating the call as a potential Anarchy, Inc. attack. Ingram, how are we going to get out of this? Everyone’s going to be after us!”

“Satellites won’t be able to see us through the storm clouds,” I reply. “We’ll be fine, as long as we get away clean.”

Four black SUVs roar in from the side roads, chewing through the fields alongside the road to close in. I fire the machine gun, taking out one of them, but the other three zoom in alongside the van.

“We need assistance!” says Henrik over the radio, the sound of gunfire in the background.

“I can’t hit them at short range!” I growl, getting up from my turret controls. Grabbing two M16s from the wall, I pass one to Kate. “When I say so, point this out the back and fire, okay? Hold on tight, it’s got a lot of power.”

Kate takes the rifle and nods.

I strap myself back in, then hit the control for the van’s back door, which rolls up into the ceiling, exposing the rear of the vehicle.

“Henrik, now!” I shout.

He slams the brakes, leaving the two attackers on our tail.

“Kate, shoot the one on the right!”

She obeys; I fire at the left car. Together, we pour bullets into their hoods and windshields, forcing the two cars to peel off their pursuit. I shut the door behind us, then get back to the targeting system.

“Missiles away!”

Two rockets speed off toward Anton’s cars, finishing them off.

“Stan, can you get the last one?” I ask.

“Of course.”

A chatter of gunfire thunders from outside, followed by the screech of tires.

“Thank you,” I say, grinning.

“Drones show the remaining vehicles have stopped,” Baptiste reports. “They’re giving up the pursuit.”

“It would be suicide,” says Eyal. “They’re not being paid to die.”

I look at Kate and give her a smile. She still points the M16.

“You can put that down, pet,” I say, pointing to the machine gun. “Everyone, good work. Eyal, drop the outer armor layer.”

“Why would you do that?” Kate asks as two loud pops indicate the plates have separated.

“The inner layer has been painted with the name Wilson and Son Professional Movers. We should blend in. Plus, we won’t be as heavy so we’ll move faster.”

She nods, smiling.

“Okay, so where are we going?”

“Upstate New York, to our compound. What’s on the police scanner?”

Kate listens for a while, then says, “Air traffic over the area has been redirected. They’re investigating the cars and downed helicopters, but they’re not quite sure what they’re looking for.”

“Good. Let me know if you hear about any road closures.”

We’ll take the country routes until we get to Interstate 80, then a combination of local roads and freeways north into New York.

It’s a tense ride, one spent constantly monitoring footage from our aerial drones while listening for threats. Fortunately, the local roads in the region cut through thickening forests, giving us cover from the trees and keeping us out of sight from traffic cameras. Everything has gone according to plan so far — we shouldn’t be tracked back to our base. However, we always have our emergency protocols if our compound is discovered. We’ll be okay.

After six hours of driving, heading past Utica and into the Adirondacks, we arrive at the compound; Stanislaw and Henrik had driven ahead of us in case anyone was looking for a van and a Cadillac, but they’re waiting inside the gate when we stop.

They join Baptiste, Eyal, Kate and I as we gather in a group hug.

“Thank you,” Kate says. “Thank all of you so much. You saved my life.”

“You helped,” Eyal replies. “It was a team effort.”

“It was nice to do something good for someone,” adds Henrik.

“Instead of something bad,” Stanislaw finishes.

We hold the hug for a time; I rub Kate’s back.

“Thank you,” she says one more time. “For everything.”

I take her hand as we split apart.

“Come on, you must be starving. What would you like? You’re a free woman. What are you craving?”

She chuckles.

“Amit’s in Manhattan. But let’s just say pizza.”

I lean in and kiss her.

“Can do.”

—

We bring in a dozen pies, several orders of wings and a trough of garlic knots — enough for everyone at the base and then some. I tap a keg and pour beer after beer. Kate sits at my side and introduces herself to my team of operatives: spies, mercenaries, analysts and more.

“So many people worked for this,” she says when they’ve all taken their seats to eat and celebrate. “I never would have imagined.”

“This was nothing,” I reply, kissing her. “I would have called on more — as many as needed, to save you.”

“How are you able to pay all of them? Weren’t your assets frozen when you were declared dead?”

I shrug.

“The ones people knew about. I kept plenty in secret accounts just for this sort of thing, and I raised more. We got paid quite a bit to kill Hamza Bin Khaled, among others.”

“Oh,” she says, sipping her beer.

“If you’re worried blood money was used to rescue you, we only killed bad men, like arms dealers. And not all the jobs involved killing.”

“Good.”

When we’re done eating, I lead Kate to my room.

“Sorry this isn’t much,” I say, gesturing at the spartan quarters. Not even a little bit decorated, it contains just a bed and a dresser. At least the bed is big enough for two — and comfy. It’ll be a step up for Kate no matter what, though she deserves better. When this is over, I’ll book us rooms at the nicest hotels around the world, everywhere from the Swiss Alps to Tulum.

“It’s okay,” she says, sitting down on the mattress.

“How are your implant sites feeling? Any discomfort?” I ask, sitting down next to her. “There are painkillers in the top drawer.”

“No, they’re still numb, thanks. I am tired though.”

I chuckle.

“It’s been a long day. You should get some rest.”

“Not yet,” she says, smiling. “I want to be with you. I want to talk. Can you tell me how you got off the island that night? I mean, if it isn’t… painful. Or something.”

“It is a bit, but I don’t mind.”

I give her the full story, from the moment I went into the water. I tell her how Jamison Hardt and Colette helped patch me up, about hiding in Madeleine’s body bag and about being tossed out to sea.

“If Hardt hadn’t given Eyal the signal so they could come and find me, I would have drowned — or died of hypothermia.”

“It sounds like a harrowing experience,” she says. “I’m sorry you had to go through that.”

I sigh.

“In truth, it’s what I deserved. For what happened to you, and to Madeleine.”

“No,” says Kate. She leans in and looks into my eyes. “Madeleine wouldn’t have wanted you to go through that. She cared for you. That’s why Anton killed her. He told me so.”

Fucking hell.

“Don’t believe for a second you deserved any of that,” Kate finishes.

“Thank you, but it was nothing compared to the last nine months for you. To abide by Anton’s cruel whims and turn your life into such a horror show… Kate, you’re stronger than anyone in the world knows. You’re a force to be reckoned with.”

She lies down, sighing as she spreads her limbs out on the bed.

“I didn’t feel strong. I was just doing what I had to, for survival.”

“So was I, escaping the island,” I say, climbing on top of her. “Strength is doing what you must, when you must — no matter if it’s scary or difficult. And that’s exactly what you did, for the better part of a year.”

“I felt so weak, though.” She blinks away a tear, shutting her eyes. “I felt utterly powerless.”

“Strength and power aren’t the same thing. When Anton sends a few dozen mercenaries after us, he’s using his power — financial power, in this case. When you sat down and lied about being an alcoholic before the entire country, you had no power — but you faced a challenge and succeeded. That’s strength. And now you’ve been doing it nearly every day for months. You’re truly extraordinary, Kate. Undercover cops have earned medals doing less than you. And someday soon, people are going to know the truth.”

She scoffs.

“They won’t believe it. I’ve told so many lies, how could they tell what’s real?”

I kiss her and hold her hand.

“Because Anton’s going to confess to everything before we kill him.”