The Silver Strand Legacy, page 4
part #1 of Eritis Trilogy Series
Despite the dire nature of their situation, a fleeting smile passed across Doc’s face as he observed the interaction between his two comrades. Unconsciously, Kincade had narrowed the distance between him and the giant, thereby emphasizing their considerable size difference. Watching Kincade berate the hulking figure was like watching a child scold an adult.
Kincade sighed and moved away. “Forget it. What’s done is done.”
“I wonder what that interruption was about,” said Rock.
Doc looked intrigued. “I was going to ask you. How come the hearing was so brief? An interruption, was it?”
“Some kind of emergency,” Kincade replied. “An officer showed up with an urgent message for the general. Next thing we know, the trial is adjourned and they take us here.”
“Must have been serious,” said Doc. “McKenner’s been itching to send you both to jail, and maybe even the rest of us along with you.”
Rock shrugged. “Today … next week … what difference does it make? It’s not like they’re going to forget about us.”
Kincade rubbed the stubble on his chin. “Still, we should call in a few favors and see what we can find out about this document.”
“Favors?” said Rock. “From who?”
Kincade raised an eyebrow. “You’ve spent how many years in the military again? Didn’t you make any other friends?”
“Uh … no.”
Kincade facepalmed. “Why do I even bother? Anyway, I can think of a couple of guys who still owe me one. I’ll see if—”
“That will not be necessary, Mr. Kincade. I can tell you what you want to know.”
Chapter 5 – Unexpected Offer
A man was standing in the doorway with his hands inside his pockets, smiling. He waited a moment, seemingly amused by the dumbfounded looks directed at him. Then, he stepped into the room and motioned to the soldiers standing guard outside to close the door.
“There. Now we can have some privacy.”
Kincade sized up the visitor. “Who are you?”
“My name is Andrew Leicester,” the man replied. “And you are Jonathan Kincade, former lieutenant colonel in the United States Marine Corps, dishonorably discharged about four years ago, and at present the leader of a group of … shall we say contractors? Your team handles various types of assignments in the more challenging parts of the world, ranging from security for high-value officials to black ops interventions.”
“You can use the word mercenaries,” said Kincade. “We don’t mind.”
“Of course,” said Leicester. “And if I’m not mistaken, these are two of your associates.” Leicester walked over to Doc. “Mr. Hulin Chen, doctor and former captain in the Army of the People’s Republic of China. How do you do?”
Doc greeted him with a nod.
“I must confess,” said Leicester, “I’d be curious to hear about the circumstances which have led you to join this particular group. That information was not in any of our files.”
“It’s a long story,” said Doc.
“I’m sure,” Leicester replied. He moved over to Rock. “Our files, however, do contain ample information about you. Richard Reinhart, former Marine. You served seven years under the command of Lieutenant Colonel Kincade and ended up being discharged alongside him and three other men in your unit. About a year later, the five of you and Mr. Chen decided to band together. You’ve been working as mercenaries since.” He turned to Kincade. “Would you say this information was accurate?”
“Pretty much,” said Kincade. “Now what do you want? Did General McKenner send you?”
Leicester laughed. “No, I’ve never had the pleasure of meeting the general.”
“Then I’ll ask again. What do you want?”
“From what I gather, you currently find yourselves in a bit of a predicament.”
“I guess that’s one way to put it,” said Kincade, “but it still doesn’t answer my question.”
“I have a proposition for you. A job, if you will.”
The three captives stared at the Briton with conflicting sentiments. They didn’t know whether to laugh at his ridiculous statement or to get angry at him for making light of their predicament, as he put it.
Rock walked over to the visitor. “It’s Andrew, right?”
Leicester gazed up at him and gave a slight nod.
“For a guy who seems to know so much, it looks like you missed the part about us being busy for the next … what, fifteen to twenty years. I guess you haven’t heard, but the Army wants to offer us an all-expenses-paid vacation at one of their top-class establishments.”
Leicester brushed off the objection. “That won’t be a problem, Mr. Reinhart.”
The room immediately fell silent.
From the moment he had walked in, Leicester had been wearing the same knowing smile. And nothing, it seemed, could make him part from it, not even for an instant.
Is this guy for real? Kincade asked himself as he observed Leicester. Under normal circumstances, he would have dismissed the bold claim as either an idle boast or a tasteless attempt at humor. At which point the Briton would have found himself unceremoniously thrown out the door—or the window—for his troubles. But fortunately for Leicester, the fact that he was standing there in the first place gave him all the credibility he needed.
Even though Kincade and his team were no longer soldiers, McKenner had used all of his influence to have them treated as such. He had insisted on handling the matter internally, citing the secret nature of their mission and the fact that Kincade and his men had spent years in the military.
This is a crime against soldiers committed by their fellow soldiers, the general had argued.
As a result, following their incarceration, the mercenaries had had very little contact with anyone. Only a handful of people had been allowed to meet with them, and they had all been Army personnel, including the lawyers. Leicester was the first civilian they had seen in over two months.
There’s no way this guy’s a lawyer, Kincade thought, gazing at Leicester. So why had this civilian, a British citizen, been allowed to talk to them in private?
Whatever the answer was, Kincade imagined it would still fall a long way short of securing his team’s release. A wary frown formed on his face. “Are you claiming to be able to get us out of this mess?”
“Yes,” said Leicester, “but that would be up to you.”
“Meaning?”
“As I said, I have a job for you. If you agree to take it and manage to complete the mission, all charges against you will be dismissed.”
“Just like that?” said Doc.
“Just like that.”
“You make it sound simple,” said Kincade.
Leicester laughed again. “Oh, I assure you, Mr. Kincade, it wasn’t. But despite McKenner’s passionate arguments, the fact remains you and your men are no longer soldiers. That’s all the leverage someone like me needs to pry you away from the general’s sphere of influence. Having said that, we did have to make quite a few concessions to your government in order to reach this agreement.”
“Who’s ‘we’?” Doc asked.
“I oversee a special branch of the UK government, working in close collaboration with similar branches in other countries.”
“That didn’t sound vague at all,” Rock said in a sarcastic tone.
“And the concessions?” Kincade asked.
“I’m afraid I can’t get into those details,” said Leicester. “But I can tell you that your government stands to gain a lot from this deal. You would be doing your country a great service by accepting my offer.”
“You mean the people who are trying to lock us up?” Rock remarked.
“Point taken, Mr. Reinhart. I was merely appealing to Mr. Kincade’s sense of patriotism.”
Sense of patriotism, huh? How many times have I heard those words? Kincade wondered.
At his core, Jonathan Kincade was still a soldier. He had enlisted at a relatively young age and had never looked back. He recalled how, as a new recruit, notions of right and wrong had seemed so clear to him. And how, like many others, he had been so quick to throw around slogans about democracy and freedom, all the while lacking the wisdom to appreciate their true meaning.
However, years of traveling around the world, experiencing different cultures, and fighting in various conflicts had chipped away at his naiveté. He had in no way become a cynic. But he had learned to see the world for what it truly was: a work in progress. A portrait painted in various shades of gray, in which it was sometimes hard to discern where right ended and where wrong began.
He still believed in the values instilled in him as a young man. But too often he had seen people in power use those beliefs and ideals to further their personal agendas. They would cloak themselves in the mantle of patriotism in order to manipulate the masses, all the while pursuing their own selfish goals.
Following his discharge from the military four years ago, Kincade had spent several months working as a security advisor for a high-profile firm. He had found the job through his former commanding officer, and after a shaky start, he had eventually adjusted to his new career quite well. It was far less perilous than his previous occupation. And the money didn’t hurt either. His life looked set to go down a smooth new path, until a chance encounter had caused it to take an unexpected turn.
He remembered it had been hot that night. But a cool breeze had slithered through the city, tempering the summer heat. Kincade had opted to walk home instead of using the Metro as he normally would. It had been a really long day, most of it spent trying to accommodate the unreasonable requests of a difficult client. He had decided to take a stroll through the streets, hoping the fresh air would help vent the day’s frustrations.
Kincade hadn’t been walking for very long when someone called out to him from across the road. He immediately spotted Rock—never a difficult task, even in the larger crowds. The giant was accompanied by two familiar faces: Armando Da Costa and Sean Riley. All three had served under Kincade’s command for many years. And like him, all three had been discharged from the military following a diplomatic incident during which they had chosen to side with Kincade in defiance of orders and regulations.
The trio insisted their former commanding officer join them for a drink. He agreed and accompanied them to a popular bar.
The four men spent most of the night reminiscing about their years of service and dredging up old anecdotes.
They parted ways just before dawn, leaving Kincade with barely enough time to get a couple of hours’ rest before heading back to work.
Seeing his men again had filled Kincade with a sense of nostalgia. He had been glad to spend time with them, but he had also picked up on something else. Whenever he had asked the trio about their plans for the future, their answers had been vague and uneasy.
Since the day of their sentencing, Kincade had made it a point to keep in touch with the four members of his unit who had been discharged alongside him. Each time, he would insist they not hesitate to contact him if they ever needed anything, and each time they would claim to be getting by just fine. He knew at least one of them did. He had met up with the fourth member of the group, Benjamin Green, two weeks prior, and had been pleased to see that the former major was doing well for himself. But after the previous night, Kincade realized the same could not be said for his other former subordinates. He kicked himself for not noticing sooner. After all, it should have come to no surprise to him. A soldier’s life was all this bunch had ever known. They couldn’t be expected to seamlessly transition into civilian society. Rock and Da Costa in particular. Those two were severely lacking in the most basic social skills.
Kincade felt responsible. It was because of him they had abruptly been thrust into this new life for which they were so woefully unprepared.
Two days later, he quit his job.
He gathered his men and proposed that they form a team of freelancers.
The men were all reluctant at first, sensing Kincade had made the decision for their sake rather than his own.
But Kincade was adamant. “I’m doing this with or without you guys, but I’d rather have people I trust watching my back.”
And thus, their mercenary team was formed.
Hulin Chen—whom they called Doc because he was a medical officer—joined them two weeks later.
Kincade and Chen shared a long and complicated history weaved with threads of improbable events and unusual circumstances. Their friendship had always been a tricky proposition due to their standings in their respective countries’ armed forces. But it had endured nonetheless. Kincade used to joke it could be fun to bet on which one of them would be the first to mysteriously vanish off the face of the earth someday. Oddly enough, Doc saw the humor in it too. The only reason they never made the bet was that the loser wouldn’t be around to pay up.
It was after receiving a cryptic message from Doc Chen that Kincade and four of his men had taken that fateful covert trip to Hong Kong. Their decision had kicked off a series of events resulting in a major diplomatic incident which had ended up changing the lives of all those involved.
“I take it from your silence you’re considering my offer,” said Leicester.
Kincade looked up. The Briton was staring at him, waiting, smiling.
On the face of it, the choice was an easy one. Just about anything was preferable to jail. Common sense dictated they accept Leicester’s proposition. But experience had taught Kincade that when something sounded too good to be true, it usually was. He walked up to Leicester and stared him straight in the eye. “What’s the catch?”
“I understand your skepticism,” said Leicester, “but there’s no catch, except that it’s a complex and dangerous assignment. One which requires the utmost discretion.”
“OK,” said Kincade, “let’s hear it. What exactly is this assignment?”
“You understand, of course, there’s very little I can share with you at this time.”
Kincade nodded. “I understand.”
Leicester started ambling around the room. “For several years now, the British, French and German governments have been collaborating on a special project.”
“Special how?” Rock asked.
“I’m afraid I can’t divulge that information.”
“Figures.”
“I’ll get straight to the point,” said Leicester. “We had a breach last night. Eight of our scientists ran away from the secret facility where the project in question was housed.”
“Ran away?” Doc noted. “Were they being kept there against their will?”
“Most people involved in the project were confined to the facility for security reasons.”
“I see … what is it you want from us?”
“Simple. Track down the scientists. Bring them in.”
“That’s it?” Kincade asked.
“That’s it.”
“Even if we agreed to this,” said Doc, “wouldn’t they be long gone by now?”
“No,” Leicester replied.
“How can you be so sure?”
“They’re searching for an item, Mr. Chen, a very important item. It was hidden some time ago by a former associate of mine. It’s believed to be somewhere in Western Europe. They will not go far until they’ve found it.”
Kincade was perplexed. “If that’s true, it should be easy for you to track them down yourself. You seem like a guy who has people to handle this kind of stuff. Why come to us?”
Leicester sighed. “As it turns out, Mr. Kincade, our options are far more limited than you might think.”
“How so?”
“Only a handful of people are aware of the project’s existence, even within our respective governments. It’s a … an off-the-books project if you will. And for good reason, I assure you.” Leicester marked a pause to choose his words. “Our runaway scientists are in possession of top-secret information. And the item they’re searching for is also of a very sensitive nature. We would prefer not to involve the police. Even our own secret services cannot be trusted to handle this matter. All it would take is one curious department head, or one overzealous agent, and the entire project could be compromised. The fugitives are aware of this, which is why they can afford to stay close and look for the hidden item.”
Kincade and Doc exchanged a furtive glance. They wondered about the reason for all this secrecy, and about the nature of this sensitive item. But they knew better than to ask.
Leicester didn’t notice their silent consultation, or at least pretended not to. “The good news,” he continued, “is that we can expect them to confine their movements to Western Europe. This will give us an opportunity to apprehend them, which is where you come in. Your—”
“Hold on,” Kincade interrupted. “If you can’t trust your own secret services to handle the matter, what makes you think you can trust us? What if we come across this important information you seem so concerned about?”
“Ah, yes. She said you’d ask me this,” Leicester replied.
“She?”
“Yes. My top analyst ran a full profile on your team. Incidentally, she’s also the one who recommended you to me.”
“Anybody we know?” Kincade asked.
“No. You don’t know her,” Leicester replied.
Kincade’s brow twitched. For the first time since he had shown up, a hint of uneasiness had filtered through the Briton’s façade.
“Why did she recommend us?” Doc asked.
“Two reasons,” said Leicester. “One, because your profile suggests you will be far more interested in securing this deal than in meddling in the affairs of some foreign nations.”
“That’s for damn sure!” Rock exclaimed.
“Even so,” said Doc, “you’d still be taking a risk.”
“Perhaps,” Leicester replied, “but it’s a calculated one. My analyst assures me we can rely on your discretion. She doesn’t believe you to be motivated by greed, which I think is a rare quality for people in your line of work. And since you’re not formally affiliated with any government, there would be no conflict of interest.”
