Operation Leap of Faith - Chapter 4
Present day - USA, Vermont
The university campus was big and picturesque; it looked like someone had taken it out of a movie. However, all Kapkan could think of was how uncannily similar it was to Bartlett University. He looked at the green expanses surrounding the building and the students milling around in groups and joking with their friends, and all he could see was clouds of yellowish and dense gas, bodies strewn on the ground. That had been Rainbow's first big-scale operation, and the one that the five original teams would never forget.
Kapkan shook these thoughts from his head, instead focusing on observing the people coming out of the main building. According to the information the White Masks had shared with Glaz, the unfortunate soul Kapkan was waiting for would walk through that door any moment now. Morgan Hayes Jr., such a pompous name for such a young man. Kapkan had researched his family and friends extensively and found no sign of him being even tangentially connected to the brotherhood. Nothing about him singled Morgan out as someone who the Templars might want to get rid of, and yet here they were. There was a small chance he'd just been randomly selected, but it seemed unlikely. The emails Six, or more likely Harry, had sent had shed no light on the matter.
The investigation of Glaz's new companions hadn't been fruitful either. At first, Kapkan saw an Abstergo employee called Layla and dared to hope he'd found who Shrike was, but the employee turned out to be Layla Hassan, and Six had confirmed she was under assassin custody now. Not the same Layla then. At least he found some information on Damien, namely that he had a younger brother and a couple of old police records from his younger years. Aside from that, no trace of any other legal documents about him. Whoever was covering the cell's tracks was good, better than Kapkan definitely. Although if they could get Dokkaebi on it, she'd have mountains of information about these people in less than a day. Such a shame Six didn't want to involve anyone else in this operation.
Someone matching Morgan's description got out of the building, walking next to a young woman who fit the description of his girlfriend. Kapkan tugged at the strings of his hoodie while he watched them kiss before going separate ways. Walking slightly hunched to go unnoticed amongst the crowd, Kapkan followed him from a distance. The target went towards the parking lot, a mostly empty place and probably the best moment to grab him.
"Morgan Hayes?" Kapkan put a hand on his shoulders, trying to get a firm hold of him. However, the man elbowed him in the ribs and ran like the devil was after him, getting into the parking lot at an amazing speed.
Muttering a string of curses, Kapkan went in hot pursuit, vaulting over a half wall to not lose sight of him. Morgan was standing next to a car, fiddling with the key but his nerves made him keep failing in what supposedly was an easy task. Eventually, he did it, and the poor guy was trying to start the car when Kapkan caught up with him, getting into the passenger's seat as he belonged there.
"Please don't hurt me! I don't have money, the car's old but you can have it if you want, just don't hurt me!"
Being scared shitless was an appropriate reaction, but he was scared of the wrong person. "We need to talk."
"Oh my god, are you with the Russian mafia?"
Either Morgan was involved in some shady stuff, or he had quite an overactive imagination. Kapkan threw him a withering glare and took out of his pocket a folded piece of paper, which he tossed in his direction. The paper landed on Morgan's lap, but he only looked at it, then back to Kapkan like he was following a tennis match.
"These people are trying to kill you; I'm here to ensure you make it to the end of the day."
Instead of unfolding the piece of paper, Morgan played with it and looked up at Kapkan, blinking with his mouth open. "Is this a prank? A hidden camera thing? Oh man, I nearly pissed myself! Who put you up to this? Brad, it has to be Brad, he always-"
"Look at the damn paper and tell me if you recognise anyone," Kapkan barked at him, weighing the pros and cons of knocking him out. After all, a quiet and unmoving asset was a cooperative asset.
With trembling hands, Morgan unfolded the paper and looked at it blankly, telltale signs of panic slowly creeping in. "I don't know any of these people! Sh-should I? I mean, is it good or bad that I don't know the people who want to kill me? On the one hand, it means none of my friends and family are behind this, that's good. But-"
"What projects are you working on?" Kapkan cut off his ramblings, desperately trying to find a link between Morgan and their mission. "Joined any gangs or groups recently?"
"No, no! And how do I know you aren't going to kill me after I answer all your questions, hmm?"
There was no time to waste, but he had to calm Morgan down somehow, the last thing he needed was a hysterical target to protect, that would complicate his job unnecessarily. Kapkan searched for his dog tags, the one he got from Rainbow. Aside from the usual information, it also had the symbol of the NATO engraved, plus the Rainbow one. That would have to suffice as accreditation. Judging by Morgan's reaction when Kapkan reluctantly passed him the tag, he knew what those symbols meant. It wasn't surprising; Rainbow had been on the news more than once.
"Holy fucking shit," Morgan repeatedly blinked, opening and closing his mouth like a fish out of water while he handed the tag back to Kapkan. "Okay, okay… to answer your questions: I study translation and interpretation, the only group I'm in is the basketball team, and I spend most of my time with Kelly."
Perhaps he was just a random hit, someone they had picked blindly for Glaz's test of loyalty. Kapkan doubted it, but it was a possibility.
"Do you have any connection with Abstergo Industries?" Kapkan attempted to use a gentler tone this time.
It worked, more or less, since Morgan took a deep breath before answering instead of launching into one of his panicked tirades. "They made a donation to the department last semester, but that's all. Why?"
Well, that was interesting. Morgan said he studied translation, didn't he? Kapkan wondered what the university translated that could be important enough for Abstergo to fund them. He needed to get the manto talk, but time was working against them, and he also needed to prepare everything to make Morgan's supposed death credible.
The plane had landed with about an hour of delay, which suited Glaz's plans perfectly but annoyed Damien to no end. He'd been ranting non-stop about the terrible service, the lack of flight snacks and how hungry he was. So when Glaz treated him to some food, a simple hot dog to eat on the way, Damien's mood lifted considerably.
"Okay, how long will it take you to find a spot to set up your thing?" Damien asked, licking the mustard from his fingers.
"No idea," Glaz shrugged, "depends on a few things. I mostly need a vantage point. Why?"
"You aren't the only one with a mission, Idri."
Damn, he had assumed this was only a murder run. An additional objective hadn't factored in the plans Glaz made with Kapkan, he hoped it wouldn't become an unexpected hindrance. Glaz trusted Kapkan completely to pull off his part, although he was concerned about how Damien's mission might interfere with their strategy.
"What do you have to do?" Damien stopped to look at him, and now Glaz was sure Damien wasn't supposed to tell him. However, he considered Glaz a friend already, and the sniper hoped that would work in his favour. "Do you have a plan or are you improvising?"
"Hey, I might not be as thorough with my plans as you, but that doesn't mean I'm winging it! Besides, grabbing a bunch of papers should be easy."
Information theft. Whatever Shrike and Abstergo wanted, it must be important. "Should we take a detour to his apartment?"
Glaz hoped the answer was no, because he had no idea if Kapkan and Morgan were there at the moment, and that would ruin the whole operation. Not to mention he wasn't sure if it would be better to help Damien acquire the information, and thus cement his position in the organisation, or thwart the theft somehow. Whatever those documents were, Glaz was certain the world would be better off if they didn't fall into Templar hands.
"Nah, it's on the campus. I'll go during the chaos after you… do your thing."
It was a reasonable plan, he'd give Damien that much. No matter how much he wanted to know more, prodding further into the issue would be unwise. Therefore, he shut up and let Damien talk, the man never ran out of steam and filled any silences like it was his job. Glaz was also paying attention to the path Damien was taking since they would pick up the weapons in one of the organisation's safe houses. It might not be the primary objective of his mission, but Glaz would bet it was invaluable information for Six all the same.
He followed Damien into what could only be qualified as a seedy dive, a mostly empty local except for a resident early drinker already nodding off on a corner on the counter. The barman didn't even look at them as they went into the staff area. He must also be part of the organisation or a supporter. It was worrisome to think about how many supporters a terrorist group could have, aside from being funded and directed by one of the most influential corporations on the planet. Okay, better to not worry about that right now.
Damien handed him a discreet bag. Glaz opened it and saw a disassembled sniper rifle. Not the best, but it would do wonders. And he wouldn't even shoot at the target for real, although Damien didn't know that. There was another item on the bag too, and that one sent a shiver of revulsion through Glaz. A smooth and blank mask. Rationally, he'd known he would have to wear one of those at some point, but the idea made his skin prickle in acute distaste. With the hood of his coat on and that mask, he'd be indistinguishable from them.
Swallowing the bile rising in his throat, he turned to Damien and nodded. He was as ready as he would ever be for this.
Six's contacts were late. Only by five minutes so far, but Kapkan was used to military punctuality and depending on strangers that didn't bother to arrive on time irritated him. He resisted the urge to tap his fingers impatiently on the car dash. Not much else to do in this empty road. Morgan was pretty subdued, looking morosely at the refrigerated bag on the backseat now and then. Buying all the products and making a convincing batch of fake blood had been laughably easy, but Morgan seemed disturbed by the result. Kapkan would take it as a sign that the fake blood was realistic enough.
It had been a struggle to convince Morgan he couldn't contact his friends or family. He hadn't taken well the rule of no goodbye texts or suspicious messages, but ultimately he realised that might put them at risk too. Still, Kapkan had taken his phone as a precaution. You never knew with civilians; they tended to be more unpredictable than anyone else. To distract him, Kapkan had been prodding him to talk about what he'd been working on in his translation project for the department, but he only got monosyllabic answers and vague noises. Fine, he'd just go in, look through Morgan's files and take anything that looked promising. If Abstergo was willing to kill over it, Six would surely be interested in keeping it out of their hands.
The sound of a car made both of them sit straight, looking attentively at the approaching van, the sun glinting on the windows as it came closer. Old and dirty, mostly forgettable, the kind of nondescript vehicles the Brotherhood would favour. Still, Kapkan wished he had more than just his knife with him, who knew how many people could be inside the van and if they were friendly or White Masks. The vehicle stopped on the side of the road, near them.
"Stay here and don't move," Kapkan told Morgan. It would be difficult for him to go anywhere without the car keys, but he still felt the need to warn him.
Kapkan approached the parked van, ready to grab his knife at the barest hint of sensing it was a trap. One window rolled down, and a woman with short and dark hair waved at him. It was too dark to see the driver properly, but Kapkan was certain it was a man.
"Hello! The cavalry's here!"
"Really, Becky? Two people count as the cavalry?" The driver's voice had an unmistakable British accent, the sarcasm so heavy Kapkan could see the air quotes around the word cavalry. "Go on, give them more false expectations."
They were not what Kapkan had been expecting when Six said she'd send two of the best agents of the Brotherhood, but as long as they followed the plan, it was reasonable to assume things would go well. He motioned at Morgan to come out of the car.
The woman, Becky, waited until Morgan was next to Kapkan, then she lowered the headset she wore. "Do you have a plan or..."
"Yes," Kapkan immediately took control of the situation. "Morgan has to be in front of the campus' gym at eight thirty. Once I give the signal, he will fall down and pretend he's been shot. Then you two will have to extract him safely."
"Medical services," she said with a grin. "I can hack their communications to make sure they dispatch no real ambulance."
"Simplistic and crude, but it might work. Now we only have to steal an ambulance to make it minimally credible."
Kapkan shrugged, unimpressed by the brit's complaint. "You do your job, and I'll do mine."
Right now, Kapkan's job was to make sure Morgan knew how to fall down convincingly and act like he was dead. And prepare the squibs necessary to simulate the bullet hit and make the fake blood spray out. Creating such small scale explosives shouldn't be difficult, he'd just modify the base idea of his EDDs. Still, there was no time to lose.
The mask was suffocating him. Damien had said it was just a matter of time to get used to it, but Glaz didn't want to get used to the mask. He wanted to take it out and stomp it, or maybe throw it away like a frisbee and shoot it.
He took a deep breath, willing himself to forget the smooth white plastic covering him, devouring him. At least it didn't hinder his ability to look through the scope. He checked the time - just four more minutes. The plan he and Kapkan came up with left no room for delays, not even small ones: at eight thirty Morgan Hayes would arrive in front of the campus' gym and die. As soon as he turned around to face away from the gym's doors, Glaz would make his shot. Everything had to be carefully timed to make it believable.
Glaz surveyed the area through his scope. There weren't many people around, as expected. Once he made the shot, panic would ensue. Especially taking into account the sniper rifle they provided didn't come with a suppressor. The shot would be heard, there was no doubt of that. Damien was somewhere nearby, Glaz could hear him moving, fidgeting after being too long in the same position. It was a shock looking back at Damien and seeing the hated white mask staring back at him. Glaz's first instinct was always to shoot at the masked bastards. Instead, he gave Damien a thumbs up and went to look through the scope.
A group of people came into view, one guy walking towards the gym. Glaz quickly confirmed it was Morgan, who arrived in front of the building and stopped. Once Morgan turned around Glaz mentally counted to five, just as he and Kapkan had planned. Synchronization was of vital importance. He pulled the trigger. The sound was deafening and Glaz was sure Damien must have winced at the sudden and loud noise. It took years of training to avoid giving in into that instinct.
On the small square below, Morgan stumbled as bright red bloomed on his shirt. He fell face first to the ground as people ran in all directions screaming. If Glaz didn't know he'd been aiming far away from Morgan, he'd believe he is dead for real.
"Hell yeah, a flawless shot!" Damien bought it, hook line and sinker. Thank goodness. "Meet you in twenty behind the parking lot. Don't get caught!"
Damien sprinted away, and Glaz realised he had no way to stop him from completing his mission. Fuck. He couldn't resist looking through the scope again. A man with a hoodie was kneeling next to Morgan, phone in hand. It could be Kapkan, but Glaz couldn't get a glimpse of the man's face. He looked away and started to disassemble the rifle again. Leaving it here was not an option, and he'd rather not have an unwanted clash with the campus' security guards.
He left just as he heard the siren of an ambulance coming over to the scene of the supposed crime. Glaz hurried down the fire escape staircase, only to find a dead security guard as he went around the corner, another one checking on his fallen coworker until he noticed Glaz was there. Before he could react, Glaz had already struck, his fist connecting against the guard's jaw, below the ear. The man stumbled back disoriented, legs buckling and falling to the ground, and Glaz used the opportunity to run like hell.
He went through the darkest areas, winding around the buildings and avoiding people. The chaos was slowly dying down, and Glaz wanted to avoid getting spotted. The back of the parking lot was unlit and empty, the perfect place to wait. Despite patience being one of the basic requirements for his job, Glaz paced up and down in circles, looking at his phone every few minutes. He made the shot just ten minutes ago, even if it seemed like a lifetime had passed. No message from Kapkan either, it was reasonable to assume everything went according to the plan. And yet he couldn't shake off the feeling that something was wrong. The crunching of gravel and hurried footsteps alerted Glaz, who turned around to see who was coming.
"We made it!" It was only Damien. Glaz put his hand away from the gun.
"Got everything?"
"Yeah, it was easy. Someone else was nosing around, but I dealt with it." Those words felt like a slap. What if that person was Kapkan? After all, who else could have known about this? "C'mon Idri, let's go celebrate!"
Ignoring the growing worry in the pit of his stomach, Glaz forced himself to walk by Damien's side. He was too quiet during the whole time, but Damien talked enough for them both. Glaz could only nod along and make vague noises at the appropriate moment, his mind tangled in a knot of what ifs, silently praying for Kapkan to be alright.y."