The Hunters

34

Garcia accessed the video feed from a security camera outside the train yard and transferred it to his computer screen. Papineau and Cobb leaned over the seated tech expert and studied the digitally recorded image of the man in black, racing from the yard.

Meanwhile McNutt was in the freight car, doing an inventory to make sure nothing was taken, added, or sabotaged. Sarah was in her compartment, recovering, while Jasmine tended to her. Team members can bicker all they want — that’s to be expected given the danger and their close proximity — but they’re there for each other when it counts. As they went about their various tasks, they were all continuously linked via their earpieces, eliminating the need for repetitious explanations later.

‘Any insight, Papi?’ Cobb asked.

Papineau glared at Cobb. ‘About what, specifically?’

Cobb was unfazed. ‘The intruder.’

Papineau let Cobb’s veiled accusation hang in the air for several seconds. He was ready to lash back when Garcia broke the silence.

‘Well, I’ve seen him before.’

‘Where?’ Papineau demanded.

‘Well, maybe not him,’ Garcia corrected. ‘But someone who dressed like him. I figured he was some kind of priest. Russian Orthodox, or some religion like that.’

‘We’ve all seen his kind,’ Cobb said.

Papineau looked at him with surprise.

‘Don’t play innocent,’ Cobb said. ‘It doesn’t suit you. There’s been one of his kind virtually everywhere we’ve gone. Walking close, passing through, talking to others. Nothing secretive like today, but they’ve been around. The first time they showed up was at the reception. You looked at him longer than the rest of us — like you’d seen him before.’

Papineau pulsed with anger. He opened his mouth to ridicule Cobb, but he managed not to. He stood firm against the wave of emotion, realizing that it was anger rising to cover guilt.

‘I have seen him before,’ Papineau admitted carefully, staring into Cobb’s eyes. ‘Or at least, like Hector said, someone in similar attire.’

Garcia found that he was holding his breath, as the two seemed to be deciding just how far they were willing to bend before one of them snapped.

‘Like you said,’ Papineau continued, ‘they’ve been hovering around the edges.’

Cobb seemed to drop some of his military posture. He sighed and scratched his head. ‘Okay, if that’s the way you want to play this…’

‘What is “this”?’ Papineau asked irritably.

Cobb folded his arms. ‘I said from the beginning that I’d bail if you ever countermanded my orders. Stupidly, I never said I required full disclosure, so I suppose we’re stuck with each other for a while. That said, I want to know what you know. All of it.’

The Frenchman stared in amazement, then he honestly and wholeheartedly laughed, clapping Cobb on the shoulder. ‘Mon ami, you are truly something.’

‘Don’t try to flatter me,’ Cobb warned with a smile. He could play insincere as well as Papineau. ‘We could’ve lost someone today based on what you didn’t share. I’m giving you a chance to do that now. One time only.’

Papineau grinned. ‘Do you really think you can threaten me?’

Cobb rolled the man’s hand from his shoulder. ‘If putting your head under the wheels of a slow-moving train is a threat, then yeah, I do.’

blurted Garcia suddenly, defusing the confrontation in pitch-perfect Russian. He was smiling up at them as if expecting a reward. ‘Jasmine has been teaching me correct pronunciation, or is it enunciation? Anyway, she figured I’d need it.’

They stared at him, waiting for his translation.

‘Anyway,’ he said as he filled the silence, ‘I’ve been sitting here trying to remember their name. They’re called the Black Robes.’

‘Black Robes?’ Cobb echoed.

‘Yeah,’ Garcia said, returning his attention to the computer screen. ‘As I was about to say before you guys started antler-banging, I saw one enter an Internet cafe that I was checking out. I was trying to find some like-minded hackers in Moscow, just in case. Guys, I’m telling you: if you combined Sarah and me, you’d get someone like those Russian hack kids. They really are incredible. Money-crazy, but totally smart.’

‘Back on topic?’

‘Yeah, sorry. Uh, which one?’

Cobb shook his head. ‘One of those Black Robes looked into the cafe? He didn’t try to hide himself?’

‘Nope,’ Garcia said, getting back on track. ‘But it was weird. When the hackers saw him, they recoiled in obvious fear. Someone mentioned that phrase: When I asked Jasmine about it, she translated it as “Black Robes”.’ He looked back at his team leader. ‘Apparently, they’re a sect of some kind.’

‘What kind?’ Papineau asked.

Garcia shrugged. ‘Damned if I know.’

Cobb looked at the Frenchman. ‘You really don’t know?’

‘I really do not.’

‘Where did you see them, then?’

‘The same places you’ve seen them,’ Papineau replied.

Cobb turned his eyes on Garcia. ‘What about on the Web?’

‘Nyet. Nada.’

‘That’s disquieting in and of itself. The only things not on the Web are things that don’t exist,’ Cobb remarked.

‘Or things that cover their tracks faster than I can follow them,’ Garcia suggested. The concept didn’t sit well with him. He prided himself on his knowledge of technology. ‘What about you? Did you learn anything from the guy? Anything at all?’

Cobb thought about it, and his expression did nothing to settle Garcia. ‘All I know is that they’re tough to kill. So when we step on them, we’d better step hard.’ He held Garcia’s gaze. ‘Check the entire train, inside and out, for anything he might have left behind. And get some security cams on the undercarriages. We’re vulnerable there.’

Cobb started toward the door, then stopped. He hadn’t forgotten his confrontation with Papineau. He had merely benched it for the moment.

‘And Papi,’ he said, ‘you’re with me.’

As Cobb and Papineau made their exit, Garcia ran another search on the Black Robes. His results were varied and irrelevant — with no mention of covert ops.

Digging deeper, Garcia accessed a handful of ‘off-the-grid’ bulletin boards — websites on hidden networks that weren’t accessible to most. These sites allowed hackers to carry on discussion under the cloak of anonymity. It took several refinements to narrow his search and translation software to decipher the answers, but Garcia found what he was looking for.

After scanning the information, he realized that Sarah was lucky to be alive.

‘What’s up?’ Jasmine asked as he entered the command center.

‘I was just doing a little research on the Black Robes,’ Garcia answered. ‘We think they’re responsible for Sarah’s attack.’

‘I know,’ Jasmine said, pointing to her earpiece. ‘I meant, did you find anything interesting?’

‘More like terrifying.’

‘How so?’

Garcia summed up everything he had read. ‘If you believe the rumors, the Black Robes have been around for over a hundred years. And during that time, they’ve been growing in prominence throughout Eastern Europe. No one knows exactly when the cult took shape, but—’

‘They’re a cult?’ she interrupted.

‘Well, they certainly fit the description. Not that they’re overly religious — ‘cause they’re not. It’s more of a spiritual bent. Revelation through suffering, that sort of thing. The punishment for one’s sins serves to heighten one’s understanding of the world.’

‘What kind of sins?’

‘Judging from the accounts of rape and violence, I’d say they’re particularly fond of lust and wrath.’ He paused, but Jasmine said nothing in reply. ‘I know what you’re thinking: why couldn’t it have been sloth and gluttony? We could handle a bunch of lazy, fat guys.’

Jasmine was suddenly thankful for their lethal supplies.

‘No,’ Garcia continued. ‘We get stuck with the guys who think the path to enlightenment is found through murder.’