Last Man Standing

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

Kinimaka finally breathed a huge sigh of relief. The effort caused him pain; soreness and aches that throbbed from bruise to bruise like phone calls pinging around a network, but he felt the last few hours had answered several worrying questions in the affirmative.

Following the safe house fiasco Robert Price, the new Secretary of Defense, had taken personal charge of the SPEAR team’s safety. At first, Kinimaka had felt a jolt of alarm, Smyth had been slightly more vociferous and Hayden’s eyes had pinched a little, but they all knew this moment would come sooner or later.

“Better sooner,” Hayden had told them. “But don’t let your guards down.”

Following a clever extraction and a journey in the back of a dark van equipped with medical necessities for Hayden, they arrived at their new destination.

Kinimaka saw it as he opened the van door. His mouth fell open. Smyth voiced his thoughts precisely, “You’re shitting me.”

Hayden actually sat up. “Now that’s more like it.”

The Pentagon loomed before them, an imposing concrete structure that, in the flesh, looked nothing like it did on television, which was usually an aerial view. Of course, close up, most visitors only got to see two sides at any one time, some only one.

Inside, they were assigned a room for Hayden and an adjoining office. Kinimaka lost count of their floor number, so concerned was he for his girlfriend. In the end, Hayden had to shoo him away. Kinimaka flinched as he straightened his body.

“Go get some pain killers or something.”

“Yeah, and a new penis,” Smyth said snappishly. “Your boss has taken charge of your last one.”

Hayden snipped at Smyth too. “I’m still in charge, Smyth, so fall into line. I won’t listen to that kind of insubordination. Got it?”

Smyth only smiled. “Good to see you’re recovering so fast,” he said.

Hayden put down the file she’d had her nose in ever since the Secretary of Defense handed it to her, on his way out of the room. “Take a look,” he’d said. “Could be your next assignment.”

Hayden flapped the file. “Wait, Mano, just a few minutes. This is important. While we’re offline, so to speak, other agencies have been monitoring the kind of events that might have fallen within our radar. This is the biggest yet. We’ve heard talk—” she made a face. “More like chatter that an organization called The Pythians is starting to make a few waves. Now, we’ve heard the name before, I know, but never attached to anything more than conjecture. Mystery. It’s all been a little cryptic.”

“Until now?” Kinimaka asked.

Hayden shrugged. “Nothing concrete. But the NSA reports chatter has increased in all the world’s hotspots regarding the Pythians. That means something. CIA are poking around too.”

“Is that it?” Smyth asked.

“NSA believe they’re recruiting. For what, we don’t know. Figures that have been approached and then rebuffed the offer, and there are only a handful we could find, make mention of being able to take their pick of three destinations — London, Paris and California.”

“For what?”

Hayden sighed. “I guess we’ll find out. That’s all.”

Kinimaka, heading out of the door, stopped in mid-stride as their new internal line began to ring. Very few people had gotten the landline number yet; indeed the circle had been intentionally limited to a select few.

SPEAR members. Robert Price and other high-ranking figures. The people guarding Kono.

“Yes?” Smyth was there first. “What is it?”

The man’s face fell as he listened. He held the receiver out to Kinimaka. “It’s the FBI in LA. It’s about Kono.”

Kinimaka’s stomach flipped. He snatched at the phone. “What happened?”

“Mano? It’s Special Agent Collins. I’m sorry to say that another attempt was made on Kono’s life earlier today. She-

“Is she okay?” Kinimaka all but screamed.

Collins breathed. “She’s fine. We took them all out,” she paused. “With a little help. But we saved her. You owe me a dance, Mr. Kinimaka.”

Kinimaka sat down hard. “Oh, thank God. Thank you. And what do you mean — a little help?”

“Ever hear of Aaron Trent?”

Kinimaka surfed his brain waves. “Trent. Trent? Wasn’t he part of that CIA group that was disavowed?”

“You got it. Well, Trent, he owes me more than a few dances too and lately he’s finally gotten around to settling up. I received the alert from Kono’s detail and headed over there, but by the time we arrived on scene half of our team were wounded or dead. Aaron came with me—”

Kinimaka blinked. “Was that wise?”

“Oh, he’s good,” Collins confessed. “When I first got this LA gig I thought it was all about busting his team’s balls, and I came through, believe me. But they’re good people. Hard. Clever. Dependable. Damn, I wish half my colleagues were a quarter as good.”

“Good to know.”

“So, we come upon the scene and the whole house is going up in flames. Masked men can be seen through the windows. I head for the front door. Trent just races and leaps through the shattered window, lands and neutralizes two men before I get to him. The third I pop and we’re heading for the stairs. At that point Kono herself comes flying down, on fire. Flames literally blazing up and down her entire back.”

Kinimaka closed his eyes, distraught.

“Trent jumps on her, putting her out with his coat and his body. I shoot over the top of their hunched forms, taking down man after man. They collapse down the stairs, already catching fire. We back out. Trent throws Kono over his shoulder. I fend off an overgrown brute with a goatee. We head outside, grabbing what’s left of our team. At the start of the driveway we come under fire, bullets hammering the ground around us from the second floor windows. We’re trapped for as long as those goons realize the house is burning down all around them, until they get the message that they’re actually gonna die screaming.” She paused and took another breath.

“Still,” she breathed. “Doesn’t help us. We’d be dead in about two more minutes. The goons have autos trained on us. The only reason they haven’t hit us is because they’re fucking useless shots and we’re crouched down low like a row of husbands during a brothel raid. All is lost. And then…”

Kinimaka’s eyes were wide. “Yes?”

“The rest of the Disavowed show up like fuckin’ super heroes. Silk and his new woman, a cop called Brewster, and Dan Radford. They peppered that house with 16mms, round after round, obliterating the goons from the face of the earth. Man, I’ve lost count of the number of battles I’ve fought with those guys, but they always take it to the max.”

“Thank you,” Kinimaka whispered. “Thank them for me. Is Kono with you now?”

“No, she’s at Radford’s place. Don’t worry, he’s back with his wife. Again.”

Kinimaka didn’t know what to say. His most heartfelt thanks wouldn’t do this justice. Instead he gave her what he could. “Whatever you guys need. Anywhere. Anytime. Just ask. The SPEAR team is well connected in DC… for now,” he added as an afterthought. “Don’t hesitate to call me.”

Collins laughed. “I won’t.”

Kinimaka replaced the receiver in its cradle and looked around. “Kono was attacked again but she’s okay. By the Great Kahuna’s balls I’ll be glad when this is all over.”

Hayden checked the time. “Won’t be long,” she said. “I wonder how they’re doing.”