The car pulled abruptly to the curb, and Arthur hastily crossed from behind the news stand, sliding into the passenger seat as it sped away.
"How did they get suspicious?" The question sounded threatening.
"Don't bother giving me your big bad act, Lyle. They're professionals too. They did what we would do."
"So you learned nothing." The car swerved around traffic as if it was annoyed with the situation.
"I learned there are three of them now. A woman named Sheridan Wylie, and she's an operative as well."
"They'll be on the run again."
"Without transportation, from what I could tell."
Lyle tapped his fingers on the steering wheel. "If they are as professional as you say, they will have transportation. And our chances of finding them again just went off the chart." He sucked in his breath, irritated. "You should have taken them out."
"Devon was about to tell us the whole operation. It was an unprecedented opportunity." Arthur stared out the side window, gritting his teeth.
"Yes . . . one that didn't materialize."
"What about your trackers? Did they learn anything?"
"Yes." Lyle faced Arthur with a cold stare. "The price of failure."
******
Matt looked around nervously at the number of different people strolling on the boardwalk. Couples, arms entwined. Kids with dripping ice cream cones. Seniors in sun hats and sandals.
"Are we safe here?"
"Safer than where we were." Sheridan lay her head back and closed her eyes to the sun.
"What's Devon doing?"
"You have too many questions, Matt. Focus on what you might contribute to our predicament instead."
He stared across the water, his thoughts running over the past several days, and everything that happened to alter his life. This certainly wasn't the first time his life had altered. A silent snicker had him looking at Sheridan to make sure she didn't notice. His eyes fell to her long legs, stretched out in the sun, and back up her body, to find her watching him.
"That's not what I said to focus on."
"No, but it sure beats what you did ask." He tried a smile. "Have you been in this business long, Sheridan?"
His face and tone seemed genuinely sincere, and she hesitated snapping back at him.
"It's a simple question, I'm just curious." He persisted.
"Long enough to know the rules."
He pondered her words, and their suggestive reference. "Do you like the work?"
The laugh was genuine and she sat up, draping her arms over the back of the bench. "Skip the 'this is your life' routine, Constable. I'm not talking about my job, okay?"
"I wasn't prying, I was just making conversation."
"You want to make conversation, tell me about Matt Constable."
"You mean you don't already have a file on me?"
"Of course we do, but does your version match?"
A gull landed several feet away and pecked at a piece of discarded food, oblivious to the humans all around. Matt watched it as he thought about exactly how close his version was to their file.
"I guess if we're following the rules, you may never know." He said pleasantly.
"Maybe not." She sat up, shading her eyes as she watched the small cabin cruiser pulling up to the pier just down from where they sat. "Time to go."
Matt followed, looking around for what made her move, seeing nothing, and then he spotted the boat, and Devon standing on the small dock.
"We're going to sea now?" Matt said, as he stepped onto the deck.
"Nothing like it to clear the head." Devon waited for Sheridan to climb aboard then he tossed the lines on the back and jumped on as she revved the engine and did an abrupt turn away from the dock, straight out into the lake.
"Whoa! Do you drive everything like that' Matt gripped the side rail, almost sliding off the seat.
Devon smiled, holding tight as well.
"Martin's Cove?" She called over her shoulder.
"Yes." Devon answered.
He bent down and opened the satchel from the house, and Matt was surprised to see a pair of Sig Sauer MPX KeyMod Multi-Cal Machine Pistol/Mini Submachine guns and ammunition, among other pieces of armament.
"I take it we aren't going fishing."
"Not as long as we're the bait. You know how to use one of these?"
"No."
"You get the pistol then."
"Do I need this," he asked, weighing Sheridan's gun from the house.
"Let's hope not." Devon checked both weapons, and then slipped the safety on one.
Sheridan slowed the cruiser and steered into the narrow canal on the landward side of the island. After a few hundred feet she turned again into a small cove, cutting the engine and drifting expertly up to the rough wooden dock. Devon climbed out, securing the boat, and walking carefully toward the worn looking wooden structure inland from the water, in a stand of trees.
"Five-by-five," Devon called, stopping and waiting.
"What's he doing?" Matt asked.
Sheridan had her weapon resting on the cruiser's rail, aimed toward the building. "Signalling the occupant, so he doesn't get shot."
As Matt watched, a door opened and a short man stepped outside, raising his hands, and repeating Devon's signal in a loud voice. Sheridan lowered her gun and nudged Matt.
"Let's go."
******
Briefcase in one hand and balancing a cup and saucer in the other, the man settled at the head of the large conference table with acknowledging nods to the others around the table. Marshal Hunt snapped open the briefcase and withdrew several sheets of paper, sliding them toward the man on his right, with a gesture to pass them on.
"Pretty skimpy, Marshal."
"It's the latest all-source intelligence. Our friends in Zero have sanitized everything we were looking at, as well as most of Icecap. The blowback was a shocker, gentlemen. Colonel Brand, anything positive with our original target?"
"Our position is he's been rolled-up. Their information raises a lot of questions about our own security."
The tea cup rattled as Marshal drank and set it back down. "That concern has been raised since two of our agents-in-place have also gone dark. The popular view is Zero is eliminating their own assets as well as ours."
"That Beatty business was a surprise. He was responsible for funnelling considerable data through his company. Shows we're up against a pretty ruthless lot."
"It's the same company with our missing two, agents-in-place, Frank."
"What's this - item six - the burned out van." Another man spoke up, through a large cloud of smoke.
"I thought someone might have turned on the extractors, along with the white noise." Marshal complained.
"You like your tea, I like a cigarette. Item six, what about it?"
"Our sweepers discovered it in a vacant quarry. From all the recognizable electronic bits and pieces, forensics established it was a listening post. There were also the remains of a male body. All in all, a very unprofessional attempt to destroy."
"Can they trace any of it?"
"They are running searches for the vehicle now. There are identification marks on everything, but it will take a while."
The last man to speak tapped the table with his pen. "I'm more interested in this man who pops on and off our radar. He was captured a number of times on CCTV, more than once near that company you mentioned, Frank. Do we have more players in this game than we're aware of?"
"None of our contacts in the other agencies have raised any flags." Marshal finished his tea, showing a foul look as another cigarette was lit.
"They all have covert agents running around. What are we going to do, is the question right now." Colonel Brand growled.
Marshal slipped another sheet from his briefcase and passed it around. "This is product from HUMINT and IMINT. That, gentlemen, is a current photograph of three targets we have been watching, all driving on this same urban road several times - at the same time."
"Where were they going?"
"To be determined, but that particular road goes through a very exclusive settlement of monster homes. Our hope is that it might be a location for a high ranking Zero member - if not Zero himself."
"To be determined? Didn't we follow them?"
"We have a team of sweepers on location, and an office full of cyber searchers checking every address. It was felt the risk to great to squander what we had."
"So is this our focus now?" The Colonel's eyebrows came together.
"It represents our best lead at the moment." Marshal closed his case and stood. "Frank, if you would be so good as to collect those papers and this photo. There's a burn bag on the counter there. That's all, Gentlemen - carry on."
7136 WP word count to this point