Private Eyes 4: Extreme Ways
Extreme ways are back again
Extreme places I didn't know
I broke everything new again
Everything that I'd owned
— Moby, Extreme Ways
Prologue
August 22, 2012
A flash of lightning lit up the night sky, illuminating the convoy of three vehicles—all black, an armored van and two SUVs—as they weaved along the twisting road that butted the edge of the reservoir lake. Their route took them away from the compromised CIA black site known as the Bunker, which had been hidden beneath the Kensico Dam, nestled on the northern city limits of White Plains, New York.
Even while the Senate Select Committee on Intelligence listened to testimonies during closed sessions, the cover up was already well underway. Working in the shadows, the CIA, along with its counterparts around the world, could begin dismantling the sinister organization known as the Consortium. A threat to national and global security would be removed. And the American public would never know what truly happened.
As the old proverbs stated, ignorance was bliss.
"A storm is coming," the driver of the armored van informed his colleague. "Hopefully it doesn't interfere with takeoff."
CIA Officer Kelly Gibson offered a curt nod of agreement. Reaching inside her jacket, she pulled out her phone. "I'll call ahead and have our onsite team get us advanced clearance."
The driver nodded.
"This is Gibson," she said once the call connected with the team awaiting their arrival at the Westchester County Airport. "We need immediate clearance onto the airfield, and the Gulfstream prepped and ready." She bobbed her head as the agent on site confirmed her requests. Hanging up, she turned back to the driver. "We can just drive straight to the hangar, get the asset boarded, and cleared for takeoff without any hassle."
The driver took one hand off the wheel and pressed it to his ear, where a communication bud was located. "Roger that. Relaying to the escort vehicles."
Gibson stashed her cell back into her jacket pocket, and twisted around in her seat. Reaching up, she gripped a knob and pulled open the small hatch separating the front cabin of the armored van with the back. Arching her neck, she glanced through the opening. The back cabin resembled the interior of an ambulance.
The asset was secured to a gurney, an IV attached to her arm. A medic was leaning over her. Along the opposite side sat two men dressed in full tactical gear, each sporting a M4A1. With the asset sedated and recovering from an expedited surgery, Gibson thought the guards were overkill, but it wasn't her place to question her superiors.
"How's the asset doing?" she asked.
"Lower torso injury," came the medic's response, glancing up momentarily, though keeping most of his focus on his patient. "Wound was cauterized, bleeding stopped. Sutures holding, but dressing should be changed soon."
"Bottom line?"
The medic shrugged. "The surgery was rushed, but… she's stable. For now."
"Good," Gibson asserted. "Langley wants the asset available for questioning ASAP."
"She still needs recovery time. Preferably in an ICU. The knife wound was pretty severe. With her blood loss, that might not be—"
"You have one hour," Gibson cut off the medic. "Do what you can. But the asset needs to be available for questioning as soon as possible."
The medic screwed up his face. "I'll try, ma'am."
Gibson nodded, wincing slightly at the use of ma'am. She hated being called ma'am, it made her feel old. She was only 28. Releasing a soft breath of annoyance, she skimmed her eyes over the medic as he examined the sedated asset. She could tell that the man was uncomfortable with the situation, his oath as a physician conflicting with his duties for the Agency, but Gibson felt confident that he would get the job done.
"Gibson!" the driver called.
Turning sharply at the sound of concern from the driver, she twisted back around and followed the man's gaze. Another flash of lightning brightened the darkening sky. Gibson narrowed her eyes, brow furrowing. She could have sworn she'd seen something. A distinct silhouette. But no. That was impossible. The containment team had the immediate area, both ground and airspace, sealed up tight.
And then it happened.
There was a bright flash above, but so precise and controlled that it was obviously not lightning. Mere seconds later the escort SUV ahead of them lifted into the air on an explosive burst, lighting up the night sky.
"Fuck me!" the driver exclaimed. "That was an RPG."
"Floor it!" Gibson ordered.
The driver didn't need to be told twice. The man rammed his foot on the accelerator and they plowed ahead, the front grill ramming against the back of the burning SUV, pushing it aside as they sped forward.
Gibson pressed her finger to the communications bud in her ear, and was met with high-pitched feedback, which had her wincing and tearing the device away. She barely had time to register the fact that their communications were being jammed when another explosion sounded behind them.
"Shit."
She could feel the vibration of the blast. The second SUV was gone. It was just them, alone on this deserted road.
"Send a distress call," Gibson shouted to the TACT guards in the rear compartment, knowing they had more secure radio lines. She could only hope their communications weren't jammed as well.
She never got any confirmation from them.
A burst of light flashed above them, and an RPG impacted the left side of the armored van. Gibson braced herself against the front console as the explosion caused the vehicle to flip sideways, impacting hard against the road. Sparks flew up into the air as the van slid across the asphalt, skidding to a halting stop.
Gibson groaned. Her entire body ached. She shook the shards of glass from the broken windshield out of her auburn hair, and rubbed the back of her head, grimacing when she felt a sore bump. Glancing around, she saw the driver staring back at her with blank, dead eyes.
She cursed and struggled with the seatbelt.
Spotlights activated outside, beams streaming across the highway. The low hum of a helicopter hovering above was now audible thanks to the shattered windows. She squinted through the destroyed windshield. Several masked men, all dressed in black tactical gear, repelled down several ropes, operating with efficient and purposeful movements. They were well-trained. Former military, was her best guess.
Mercenaries.
Probably.
Grunting, Gibson tried to shift in her seat, but she couldn't get the seatbelt to unbuckle. "Hostiles coming," she called back to the two TACT guards in the rear compartment, unaware of their condition, but hoping beyond hope that they were in better shape than her driver.
There was a loud blast, probably from C4 explosive, and she heard the rear doors bang open. Six muffled shots quickly rang out and Gibson squeezed her eyes shut as she heard the sick thud of three bodies. The medic and the TACT guards.
Straining her neck, she peered through the tiny gap, seeing the masked men move quickly to unfasten the asset and pull her out of the gurney. Gritting her teeth, she reached for her sidearm, but hesitated, palm resting against the grip.
She waited.
The masked men didn't know she was alive… yet.
Unless she revealed herself.
Pursing her lips, she withdrew her hand from the holster, and clenched her fingers. She watched as the specialized team easily extracted the asset from the rear compartment of the armored van, hoisting her limp form up and away.
Remaining quiet, Gibson slowly shifted and squinted as she stared out at the road, watching as a black helicopter touched down between the flaming mass of the destroyed escort vehicles. The masked men hurried over and loaded their charge into the opened passenger compartment, then boarded themselves. The rotor engines then revved, the blades whirled, and the helicopter lifted up, disappearing into the dark sky.
And just like that, Elena Markov was gone.
*A/N: I normally wait to post until I finish writing the whole story, but I've stalled on this and thought posting as I go would give me the kick I need to stick with it. So be patient with me, my updates won't be on a normal schedule. Thanks in advance, and enjoy!