Desmoterion, page 19
“Why do I get the feeling that this is part of some other plan? It doesn’t make sense for you to give up like that.”
“Let’s just say some things might come into play later. Just finish the mission and submit it to the leader. He’ll change a few things, but beyond that, I doubt he’ll care about the gear used to accomplish it.” Trent licked his lips when he finished speaking. Whatever went on in his head remained hidden like his eyes behind the dark glasses.
* * *
Trent headed for Emyr’s domain next. He knew Samson was watching him, but at least Girish was dealt with for now — enough motivation to finish writing the mission while giving Trent things to carry out his own plan.
“Why are you here?” Emyr’s eyebrow rose as Trent approached his area.
Trent walked past Emyr and into his back area.
Emyr followed him inside. “What the hell, Trent?”
Trent put his finger over Emyr’s lips and pointed to the box that contained his gun and whispered, “When the time comes, I’m going to need that and a few clips as well. It’s starting.”
Emyr’s eyes widened.
Trent smiled and removed his finger. “It was nice working with you. I’ve always had a soft spot for a man who can provide the best weapons. I won’t forget it.”
“You’re being targeted?” Emyr whispered back.
“Yes, and if it goes according to plan, you’ll know. Then it’s just a matter of dots.”
Emyr grinned and thundered for the cameras, “Indeed. Have a good mission, Trent.”
Trent winked at him and headed outside.
Emyr took a deep breath and returned to work on the gear he’d been repairing. He hoped Trent knew what he was doing.
Would Emyr have the courage to do his part when the time came?
* * *
Mike was working out when Trent found him. He glanced up and shook his head. “Not tonight, Trent. I’m not in the mood.”
Trent stood beside the treadmill Mike was running on. “What’s wrong with you?”
Mike glared at Trent. “Didn’t I say that I didn’t want to talk?”
“You did, but like you always pester me with keeping it inside will kill you.”
Mike rolled his eyes. “Now you fucking listen to that.”
“Out with it, Leclercq.”
Mike’s jaw clenched, thinking back. “I didn’t tell Emyr it would be a suicide mission with Saunders.”
“And? You weren’t even supposed to know yourself, let alone him. That’s normal.”
Mike turned to look into Trent’s eyes, hidden behind the dark lenses. “Yeah, but Emyr was pissed at me for it. Apparently, Saunders yammered on about thanking me for pushing him on, and now Emyr won’t talk to me anymore.”
“I can see why he’d be pissed, but I feel the reason is not what you think it is. Emyr is angry that he had to witness it, not that you didn’t tell him beforehand. He knows any recruit might get killed on a mission and has sent several to their deaths without knowing it.” He stopped to sigh. “The problem is, Saunders figured it out or was told by Stevenson that he was going on a suicide mission. The only way to tell you how he felt was to tell me before the mission and then to Emyr. Maybe he was trying to tell himself that it was okay and it would be over soon. Whatever the case, Emyr’s now angry. What we do is shit. It’s a shit organization, working through convicts, eating us up and spitting us out like we’re disposable.”
Mike’s hands balled up into fists at his sides. “If Stevenson told Saunders, I’m going to fucking kill him in tomorrow’s class.”
“He won’t be there, that much I can tell you. He’s being trained to be my replacement.”
“Wait, does that mean you’ve been marked?”
“Yes, as of this evening. I’m to remain in my quarters for the rest of my stay here. As you can see, I’m obeying that to the letter.”
Mike got off the treadmill, wiping off the sweat from his face on a nearby towel. “Just like you always do when people tell you to do something. I’m amazed that he isn’t having you followed around.”
Trent turned to point at the camera overhead. “I’m sure his lackey Samson is doing just that. To be honest, I couldn’t give a damn. It’s all up to Girish’s mission to kill me.”
Mike shook his head. “Girish doesn’t have a shot in hell of defeating you. Hell, I barely defeated you, and I’ve been doing this for over a decade.”
“It doesn’t matter if he succeeds or not, just that it happens.”
“So this is the end of you bugging me with pointless crap?”
Trent laughed. “I guess it is, but I couldn’t ask for anyone more caring of my feelings.”
“I’m going to miss your ugly face watching every class from above. Watching Stevenson do it will only make me wish I could repeatedly ram his face into the cement.”
Trent gripped Mike’s shoulder. “It means a lot that you’ll miss me. Keep beating the shit out of the recruits for me when I’m gone.”
Mike pulled Trent into a hug and whispered into Trent’s ear, “Don’t fuck this up, Dupont.”
* * *
Trent waited a few days before wandering along to his office. Fuck the order to remain in his quarters.
Trent sat at his desk and logged into the system. He sensed they’d block him from seeing anything to do with new missions, but they popped up in his queue.
The next mission was the assassination of a terrorist. Stevenson’s handling of it made Trent chuckle to himself. He’d be so out of his element that he’d end up hanging himself in the process. It was a damn shame Trent wouldn’t be around to see Stevenson’s dramatic failure.
Trent scanned the missions, but Girish’s mission didn’t pop up. He wasn’t surprised since Kipper told him it was a level seven mission, and Trent was level six.
Though that would not stop him from trying. Next, he tried hacking the system to see if Girish submitted his mission. Using tricks Kipper had taught him years ago, he went through the back side of the program, scanning for vulnerable areas to exploit. Kipper was excellent at patching up such things so outside people couldn’t access their databases, but he always left one open for internal people to find.
It was a mindless game for Kipper because he knew only the most dedicated would find a way in. Most recruits didn’t even have access to the computers, and he tracked everything his own team did and kept them unaware of it. It was his baby and the fewer people inside it, the better.
However, Trent was different. Kipper gave Trent access to stuff that most wouldn’t even see or try to access it. Though he was smart enough to make Trent use hacking tools to pull it off, it didn’t come back to bite him in the ass later.
Trent stopped scanning and grinned. He’d found a way in, and soon, he’d get to see what Girish had come up with. Admittedly, he wanted to see if Girish had been creative enough with his steps. The leader would be counting on such a thing in the long run.
He just hoped Girish made it somewhat plausible to pull off, and it didn’t include such things as hacking satellites to take Trent out from space. That was just overkill.
With some fast typing on Trent’s part, every second counting the highest-level missions popped up on his screen. Most he wasn’t even aware of and hadn’t seen before. Several concerned Trent, and most amounted to him being replaced.
The thing that caused Trent to pause was people above the leader’s level submitted them. That military leaders and politicians gave a shit about Trent actually to submit reports for his elimination was surprising. What had he done to deserve this kind of request?
Trent clicked on one that a military leader had submitted. Apparently, Trent had taken out one of his undercover men without asking who they were on a mission. The rest was more of the same, about Trent being too reckless to serve on missions, and they wanted him removed. Some of them dated back to almost five years ago.
He wondered why their leader didn’t mention any of these in the past. They all seemed to be above their leader’s rank, and yet it appeared to Trent that the leader ignored all of them.
With a shrug, he clicked on Girish’s mission. A warning message popped up on Trent’s screen saying that only level seven ranks could read it, unlike the other missions he’d just reviewed. He tried to click through the message, but it locked him out.
Trent sat back in his chair and thought for a moment. He could try another angle, but he’d been logged in for a while. Instead, he switched off his computer to clear the screen of information.
He didn’t need the leader to decide to kill him before Girish had the chance. He’d play by the rules mostly until that time.
* * *
Nightmares tortured Girish for the few hours that he slept, after which he lay in bed dreading the day ahead of him and not wanting to get out of bed. Getting up would mean the day had started: the day he was to kill Trent.
Despite his record, his criminal conviction, and his previous mission for Desmoterion, Girish wasn’t a murderer. The thought of it made him nauseous; it kept him awake and restless.
His mind told him he wasn’t good enough to beat Trent, even with the arsenal he had at his disposal.
Trent would avoid it all, no matter what. He was strong, fast, and cunning. And that bugged Girish the most.
Trent was pushing this mission along; he knew Girish was no match for him. And why push their leader’s hand to eliminate him?
It didn’t make sense; there had to be more to it than him just offing Trent with no resistance. If Trent was planning something on the side, did it involve a double cross? Was he using Girish’s no-win mission as a cover?
If so, what double cross or cover for what?
Girish sat up in bed and recalled every instance he’d interacted with Trent lately. Trent had acted out of character, smiling and appearing happy. It was odd for a man who didn’t show any emotion. All of his moves prior to this were cold and calculated.
Now Trent was laughing and smiling. It was almost as if he was a different person, and it was a striking difference from what little Girish knew of him. He had to wonder if Trent was losing his mind somehow.
Did it matter?
If Trent was so determined to die, what right did Girish have to question it, even if it went against everything he knew about Trent?
Then again, maybe he didn’t know Trent at all.
* * *
A knock sounded on Trent’s office door. It was time to leave. The knock sounded again.
Trent got up from his desk. “It’s been fun, office. Hopefully, Stevenson doesn’t fuck with you too much,” he said to the room.
The knocking struck up a third time.
Trent walked to the door and opened it up one last time.
Two burly men stood outside. One of them looked at Trent and said, “You need to come with us, sir.”
Trent smiled at them. “It’s time, huh? Well, let’s get this over with.”
The two men flanked both sides of Trent and walked away from the office.
* * *
Girish showed up at Emyr’s domain.
Emyr glanced up at him, taking in the bloodshot eyes and the weary expression on Girish’s face. “Yeah, I know. Let me get your gear.”
While waiting, Girish watched Emyr go back and pull out a duffel bag filled with gear; he saw Emyr stop in front of one box to stuff in Trent’s gun and clips.
Emyr came out and put the bag on the table. “Here you go.”
Pointing at the bag, Girish said, “But why did you....”
Emyr reached out to touch Girish’s lips. “That’s what you requested; I just forgot to put it in before you arrived. Good luck on your mission.”
Girish was about to protest further after Emyr removed his hand, but he decided against it when the man glared at him. Instead, he shouldered the bag and said, “Um, thanks.”
* * *
Trent and the two burly men stood beside the doorway he’d waited by many times in his life. He was going to miss it, despite how ridiculous that sounded. Why miss something inanimate as a doorway?
He didn’t have to wait long for Girish to stroll into view. The kid walked with a certain confident swagger. Trent watched him approach.
The key was to not let Girish know anything about his plan had changed. It would have helped if Trent knew Girish’s mission, but it didn’t matter anymore. He’d wing.
Girish stopped in front of Trent and swallowed hard. “Looks like you and I are on the same mission.”
“Indeed we are. May the best man win.”
Girish shook his head. “This didn’t need to happen at all. Why are you letting it happen?”
Trent smiled at Girish. “Sometimes you have to figure out when your time is ending. There’s no point in dragging out the inevitable more than you must. On that note, we might as well get this over with.”
With a sigh, Girish motioned to the two men. “I can take it from here.”
The two men walked away when one of them stopped and turned around. He looked at Trent. “Despite what I’ve heard, I think you’re the best operative we’ve ever had. The way this is going down is an insult to your talents.”
Trent’s eyebrow rose. “What do you know about this mission? Is there more than meets the eye?”
The man was about to speak further, but the second one pulled him away.
Trent glanced over at Girish. “I sincerely hope you’re not planning on nuking me on a mission. That’s not very fitting.”
Girish bit his lip and pushed Trent forward. “Come on, let’s go.”
* * *
Both got into the vehicle and sat opposite each other.
Trent glanced at the large duffel bag of gear. “All that to take me out. Interesting.”
Girish picked up the in-ear monitor and put it in. “You know you could apologize and end this right now?”
Trent sat back in his seat. “And deprive you of beating me? That doesn’t sound like the Girish I know.”
Girish listened briefly and said, “Preceding to the first part. I assume Trent doesn’t need to be wired up?”
Trent’s brown furrowed.
Girish sighed at the message coming back. “Understood.”
Trent studied Girish’s rigid posture. One hit would topple him over, since he was so tense. He half wondered what Girish was planning as they’d been driving for a while. Apparently, they wouldn’t shoot him in the decontamination building as Trent feared they might.
The transporter stopped, and Girish turned to Trent. “Get out.”
Trent pushed the button that opened the door and studied the large windowed building in front of him, wondering if they would fight inside it. Renting out such a thing seemed over the top for just taking out one operative.
Girish pointed a gun at the middle of Trent’s back and pushed him forward. “Go inside that door.”
Trent turned his head a little and grinned. “Just like old time’s sake. Except I was the one holding the gun.”
“Now, Trent.”
Trent moved forward, slow enough for Girish to keep the gun on him. Whatever was inside would either kill him or tell what Girish wanted to do with him.
The door opened to reveal a spotlight over a single chair.
“That’s your grand plan? I’m a little disappointed in you.”
Girish shoved him forward with the gun over to the chair. He dropped the bag of stuff on the ground and turned to face Trent. “Sit down.”
Trent looked at the chair and then back at Girish. “Make me.”
Girish pushed Trent down on the chair with little resistance. He grabbed some rope from the ground and tied Trent’s hands behind his back.
Trent laughed. “I never knew you had a kinky streak in you. Do I get a blindfold? In case you can’t stomach looking into my eyes before you shoot a helpless man?”
Glancing down to see a blindfold on the ground, Girish froze. “How did you know that?”
“Oh, call it a hunch. That’s what all the execution-style murders are using these days. The less guilt the shooter has to endure from pleading eyes, the better.”
Girish got up and retrieved the blindfold. “I should have brought a gag.” He removed Trent’s glasses and for the first time looked at the man’s eyes. He tried to hide his shock and amazement at what he saw.
Sure he’d heard Trent was a Morib, therefore, not human, but he looked like any man, albeit big and muscular, but the twinkling steel eyes were not like any eyes Girish had ever seen before. This man wasn’t human.
Trent laughed as Girish put the blindfold over his eyes. “I’m only telling you what you already know. Just think of me as your conscience through all of this. Though not for long if you intend to kill me tied up. Whatever happened to that fair fight you always prattle on about? How is this fair?”
Girish stood in front of Trent. “You know as well as I do I wouldn’t be able to beat you one-on-one. I can’t even beat Mike, let alone the only person to beat him — you. I figured this would be the quickest way to finish the job.”
“Then why did you bring a whole bag of gear with you? Seems like a waste to me.”
“That was to make you think I had an elaborate mission planned. You fell for it hook, line, and sinker.”
Trent laughed, his head looking at Girish without his eyes seeing. “I’m starting to like you; you devious mastermind. Efficient too. It’s a shame someone like Stevenson is going to take over my place. You’d be the ideal candidate.”
Girish pulled out a handgun from his pocket. “I’ve never been the leading type.”
“That’s true. I’m going to miss you, Kannan. You were the only person to challenge me every step of the way. Most recruits just fall into line and become genEmyr, yes men, but you surpassed them all and still kept pushing me. I won’t forget that.”
Girish swallowed hard and cocked the trigger. “Goodbye Trent.”
* * *
Kipper had been listening to their conversation while wondering how Trent planned to escape such a thing.
Not that they could see him, as the visual on the building was blocked. His team scrambled around him to figure out what was jamming the signal, but Kipper had a suspicion it was Trent himself doing it.
