"Robert you already know," Ducky said.

"Perhaps not," Michael replied.

Robert stood up with a bashful smile and shook Michael's hand.

"Robert Edwards ... since you never learned my last name. I work for the FBI."

"FBI? I never would have guessed that."

"You weren't supposed to," Robert said. "I was twenty-three at the time and Terrance thought I was a new congressional intern."

"So you and Terrance in a gay bar ... was that part of the cover?" Michael asked.

"No, but we can discuss that later. I'd been working undercover on domestic terrorism since I went through the academy. They wanted someone young and I volunteered for the task force. We'd known about Bolton's son and the militia association for a while.

"I met Terrance in Idaho where I had infiltrated the militia and become close to Nathaniel. And then one day the son introduced his father to the men at the camp as a Major in Army Intelligence, but he was CIA at the time.

"He didn't say anything specific about you except that he was going to recruit a former black ops soldier who knew how to kill from a thousand yards. I wrote that in a report, and then happened to mention Terrance. Headquarters pulled me off the militia assignment and ordered me to follow Terrance. I guess he was the bigger fish and so I came to D.C. When I found him I said that Congressman Larch had hired me to work in his office.

"We only had two meetings before my boss pulled me out of the operation, and I discovered that you were the reason ... that's why I disappeared."

"Your report mentioned a former soldier, a sniper, and that flagged a black ops warning file," Ducky said. "That's when Robert became a curiosity to us, Michael. Even though he didn't know your name he had your profile."

"So all that time I was working with Terrance your task force was looking over my shoulder ... our shoulders," Michael said. "How did you manage that?"

"I'm from Idaho, born and raised in Twin Falls, even graduated from Boise State. My father is in law enforcement, he's the Sheriff of Twin Falls County. I worked summers for the department and after graduation I applied to the FBI. I didn't have all the work experience they wanted but the recruiter told me they needed a local boy who looked young.

"I went through Quantico, was assigned back to Idaho and the militia. Their operation is pretty low key, except for the things Nathaniel has been doing. Ducky told me what happened between you two and I was surprised, he was pretty skilled operator in my estimation."

"I agree with that assessment," Michael said," but he's too impatient, a big ego, that's what tripped him up."

"Why didn't you kill him?" Robert asked.

"He didn't need killing. I was after his father, and by wounding Nathaniel I got daddy's attention and pissed him off. Angry people make mistakes and I wanted to force his hand. Terrance isn't the only one who understands human psychology. So you've been in the militia since we first met?"

Robert nodded. "They thought I had worked for the Twin Falls sheriff's department and that put me in good standing with Nathaniel. He wanted me to keep an eye on my father in case law enforcement became a threat to them. But then I came here and the FBI lost track of Terrance for a while.

"When people started dying all kinds of shit hit the fan but they didn't know you were involved. Terrance had the skills to remain elusive and I though perhaps it was just Nathaniel running around killing these men until your mushroom caper went wrong."

Robert paused. "I saw your picture after the arrest, I knew who you were ... but I didn't tell anyone. They already had you and knowing your true identity wouldn't change the outcome of your legal situation. But then you escaped and I started adding things up ... that's when Ducky contacted me." He looked at Ducky. "You want to tell him the rest?"

"The FBI in California was sure you would run for the Mexican border, but I knew better," Ducky said. "I knew you were good at disappearing, and that's when I remembered Robert's query. I figured you for Montana and he was from right near there so I contacted him the month before you called me.

"He filled me in on the FBI investigation about Terrance, and again it was only a matter of doing the math. Then you called and said Terrance had tried to have you killed. Robert was in on the whole plan to extract you when Nathaniel screwed things up."

"And the Colonel is aware of all this," Michael said. "Is that why you're here?"

"The Colonel is focused on the Kingpins," Ducky said. "As far as we know Terrance hasn't made an appearance and Viktor hasn't come here. Both of them are on the watch list for Customs and Homeland Security. But there has to be some level of communication between the branches of this organization. Our task is to find Terrance ... "

"Michael's ploy to track him might have worked," Robert said. "Nathaniel is still a key to finding his father."

"Saunders said Terrance won't be in Seattle ... where else could they go?" Michael asked.

"We just found Nathaniel at a clinic in Canada," Robert said. "He's being treated by a Dr. Zhong with the Toronto Western Hospital. He's one of the foremost hand reconstruction guys on the continent so it makes sense."

"How did you find him?"

Robert smiled. "The FBI has a lot of resources so we just looked for every patient scheduled for surgery of this type and bingo, one Nathaniel Bolton. He'll be out of the picture for months in recovery, but so far no Terrance."

"Then he's left the country, and with a fake passport he's probably in Europe by now," Michael said.

"That's what we think," Ducky said. "Robert has been seconded to us here at Unit 4. Interpol is looking for Terrance but I doubt if they will catch him so we have to go in a different direction."

"At least you have a direction ... what is it?"

"We're going to send the two of you to Germany," Ducky said. "Robert has the FBI credentials so he can work with Interpol and you are our wild card. If Terrance can't be found then perhaps you can sniff out Viktor."

Robert looked across the desk at Ducky. "What makes you think we can find Viktor?"

"Michael understands ... we want Viktor to find you."

Robert wasn't sure how these guys played the game but the stakes were high ... higher than they had ever been. He had a certain amount of empathy for what Michael had been through, but then the man had a dark side which he still didn't understand, and maybe he never would.

They went to visit the quartermaster, which in the case of Unit 4 was very much like a department store. On all the missions Michael had run there was usually a need to blend in with the local population before and after the assignment. Master Sergeant Evan McGregor ran the shop.

The big burly red head had a warehouse full of clothing and props where the teams outfitted themselves for whatever the occasion. Michael was sure if the assignment was to have tea with the Queen then McGregor would have the proper attire for that. Looking like American tourists in Germany would be easy.

"Wealthy or otherwise?" McGregor asked.

"Middle of the road for me, but Robert may have to move in higher circles," Michael said.

"I won't need much of anything," Robert said. "I'll stop by my condo and pack when we hit D.C."

McGregor got out his measuring tape. "You've lost some weight, Mikey."

"Been on a tight diet all winter."

There were dress clothes for dinner, casual wear for daytime excursions. Everything had hidden pockets for the odds and ends of their business. It took several hours for Michael to be fitted and then everything was packed away in the proper looking luggage. Robert would not carry a weapon until he had checked in with Interpol, and then there would be a pistol waiting for him at the American Embassy.

Robert went off to find Ducky and obtain the travel documents and the funds they would need while Michael went looking for Saunders. It had been several days since their meeting in the Thai restaurant and their paths had not crossed. Michael was beginning to believe that Saunders was avoiding him.

"I have been avoiding you," Saunders said. "It took some effort to get your requirements sorted out ... and then the flow of intelligence went silent."

"Oh? Did you lose assets?" Michael asked.

"No, everyone is still in place ... it's just that all of a sudden they have nothing to see. We've been tracking several of the principals in this Kingpin group, and then they vanished. I don't like it ... something is going on."

"I wasn't aware that you knew where to find them."

"We tagged four of them through business contacts. Most of these guys sit in an office all day and work the markets. That's how we found them, but it seems they all decided to go on vacation at the same time."

"Sounds like an operation is about to go down ... or they're all gathered in one place to plan something."

"I favor the latter," Saunders said. "Some big pow-wow before the storm hits ... " He looked at his watch. "It's getting late and you have a flight to catch in the morning. Robert will have all your travel documents by then so go get some sleep."

Sleep was the furthest thing from his mind but he saw the value in getting some rest. He went back to his room wondering what Robert was doing. There had been no time for a private talk, but perhaps Robert was avoiding the issue.

There had never been anything between them except distant glances in a gay bar. Michael knew that Terrance was not gay, but the young man with him was something different. He was attractive, no doubt about it. Robert was gay but it was uncertain how much the FBI knew about their man.

Michael lay on his cot and opened the Viktor file. The man had an immense number of skills which spoke to his intelligence. Whatever moves he made would be planned out well in advance. They would have to be very aware from the minute they arrived in the EU because he was sure Terrance would have spies in the airports. That might give them a day or two at most, but then Viktor would come hunting and perhaps take his first shot without warning.

It wouldn't be the first time Michael had been a target, only this time he would be prepared for it. Assassins stalking assassins was a deadly game to play in the public arena since there were just too many opportunities for collateral damage. Michael set aside the thoughts and fell asleep with the file on his chest.

He awoke before dawn, shaved off the rest of the beard, showered and dressed before heading to the mess hall for coffee. He was the first one there before they even had the chance to set up the breakfast buffet.

"Hungry, Sergeant?" The cook asked. Michael was not wearing a uniform but the man knew him from way back.

"Hello, Sully ... I could use something to eat."

"Let's see if I remember ... Western omelet, hold the bacon."

"That will be fine."

He was on his second cup of coffee, washing down the last of his omelet, when the mess hall door opened and Ducky rushed in, looking around and spotting Michael.

"We found him, or I should say the NSA did ... he's come to us ... Viktor just entered the country at Dulles International on a red eye flight from Madrid."

Michael lifted his mug and followed Ducky over to the administration building where the lights were already on, Saunders must be there.

"Face recognition software pegged him ... and get this, he was in a pilot's uniform," Saunders said.

"Don't tell me he flew the plane," Michael said.

"No, he was deadheading as a passenger ... but he had a certified airlines ticket so someone got fooled."

"Do we have a tail on him?" Michael asked.

"No ... but he took a Yellow Cab from in front of the terminal. They're tracing the driver to see where he got out."

"That won't help find him ... he'll be gone. Damn, so close," Ducky said.

"We have time," Michael said. "He won't be armed so he'll have to pick up something locally. I guess our trip to London is off ... "

"But a trip to D.C. is now on ... you need to find him," Saunders said.

Robert was on the phone and hung up when they entered Ducky's office. "The cab driver took Viktor to a spot north of DuPont Circle ... a restaurant called the Russia House on Connecticut Avenue ... do you know it?"

"Nice place," Michael said. "You know he won't be there, it's just a contact point."

"Someplace to start though, I already have some people on the way to scope the place out," Robert said.

"We don't want to spook him and if he gets cornered you'll have some dead agents."

"They're not inept, Michael."

"Then we better get there fast."

Ducky called for a helicopter off the flight line at the Marine Base and within twenty minutes Michael was throwing his suitcase and a long hard rifle case through the door of an unarmed Sikorsky Sea Hawk.

The Sergeant in the armory had selected the weapon and Michael trusted him to hand over the very best. It had been a long time since he had fired an M40, but the skill was something that never left his mind. They would take the suitcase and rifle to Robert's condo on 17th Street but first they had to get there.

The Marine pilot flew low and fast, finally dropping to the ground beside the Anacostia River at the helipad facility on the Navy base. An FBI car was waiting and two hours after Viktor set foot on American soil they were crossing the South Capitol Street Bridge into D.C.

Robert was on the phone with his surveillance team who were in place across the street from the restaurant. Michael patted the lump under his sport coat and smiled. It had been a long time since he'd worn a shoulder holster, although the Glock 20 was not his favored automatic. He couldn't complain since six months ago he didn't figure to carry a weapon ever again.

In his coat pocket was a U.S passport, a Virginia driver's license, and a Federal Police identification card. The documents were real as was the name Michael Kellum ... it was about time to be himself once again.

Saunders had been straight forward. "Michael Pruitt is dead ... I have a copy of the death certificate if you want to see it. The files have been purged of any link to you, and that includes the ones at the prison. Sergeant Michael Kellum is once again on the Unit 4 roster."

But Viktor was on U.S. soil and so the rules of engagement meant Robert and the FBI were in charge. There was no Federal Police but the ID and badge looked real enough ... Michael was back in the game. They were northbound on New Jersey Avenue when Robert got a call.

"Shit," Robert said after listening for a minute. "Our bird has flown the coop. We sent a man and woman into the restaurant and no one matching Viktor's description was in there. They found the airlines uniform in a janitor's closet ... he's gone."

"How did he get out of there?" Michael asked.

"Back door into the alley. There was a delivery van sitting back there when the team arrived and when it left they stopped it further down Connecticut Avenue. The driver was legitimate and there was no one else inside."

"Where is the driver now?"

"He's still in custody ... he could still be the contact delivering a new set of clothing and a weapon."

"Are you still monitoring the area CCTV security cameras?" Michael asked.

"Of course, and ... wait one." Robert put a hand to the earpiece. "Yes ... you think it's him? Then flood the downtown platforms with agents ... he has to get off somewhere."

"Where to?" The agent behind the wheel asked.

"Pull over when you reach Florida Avenue," Robert said. "One of the monitors thinks they saw him on the Metro platform in the 13th and U Street station. The platform was empty when the Yellow Line train left so he's headed back downtown towards the Mall."

"He's better off surrounded with people, he'll feel safer," Michael said. "He has to know he's been spotted ... he wants to be seen."

"I don't get it," Robert said. "Why is he here?"

"I don't know, but this could all be a distraction from some bigger play in motion. I hope Interpol has their eyes open for Terrance and his pals."

Robert touched the earpiece again. "Got it ... did we get someone on the train with him?"

He listened to the reply and nodded. "Stay on him."

"He got off?" Michael asked.

"L'Enfant Plaza, that's a hub station. He's now waiting on the Blue Line train. Let's head over to M Street and wait until he exits the subway."

"Heading back north and west ... I think he's out to make another contact." Michael said. "He could already be armed but it wouldn't be a big package, he can't carry that kind of thing around."

"He's after a sniper rifle, is that what you think?" Robert asked.

"We don't know his task, but I doubt if he needs that kind of a weapon ... yet. Snipers need time for surveillance of the target and he hasn't been here long enough to get any intel ... no, he just needs personal protection, but even that could be dangerous to civilians."

Robert nodded. "I'm glad to hear you say that, we don't need any shootouts on the streets of D.C."

The driver sped down New Hampshire Avenue until they reached M Street.

"Pull over," Robert said. "We're north of the Blue Line so he has to come this way."

That sat for a few moments and then Robert got the call. "He got off in Foggy Bottom ... where the hell is he going?"

A minute later they had an answer. "He's in a cab ... we have a tail on him."

"Do you have your laptop?" Michael asked.

Robert opened a hatch on the back of the front seat and flopped open a laptop computer. The FBI logo booted up on the screen. Without being asked he went to the Google map application for D.C.

"The cab is on M Street heading west towards Georgetown," Robert said, and then to the driver, "Let's see if we can get there first."

Michael studied the streets, looking at the names of businesses and landmarks which appeared on the map. Viktor could meet a contact anywhere, pick up a briefcase, and ...

"What is he wearing?" Michael asked.

Robert asked the question into his phone and quickly got an answer. "Denim jeans and a brown leather jacket."

"Is he wearing tennis shoes?"

Robert gave him an odd look and then asked the question. "Leather boots not tennis shoes."

"He's going for a motorcycle somewhere," Michael said.

"How can you possibly ... "

"It's in his file ... he used to race cross country in his younger days. That's all we need ... if he gets his hands on a motorcycle we'll lose him."

"The cab stopped on the corner of M and Wisconsin ... agents are pulling over ... " There was silence and then Robert groaned. "He crossed M and ducked into the underground mall. We've lost sight of him."

"There won't be any motorcycles down there ... where's the nearest parking garage?"

The satellite image showed the nearest garage was back across M Street. "That's not an option," Michael said.

They reached the intersection and Michael pointed down Wisconsin. "Go down to the canal. The towpath runs behind all these buildings and if he's still headed west he won't use the street."

Robert ordered the surveillance teams to cover the exits from the mall while they went around back. Michael was still looking at the map when they pulled over above the canal towpath. Robert got out and crossed the street to look east back towards the city while Michael looked west.

The towpath for the C & O Canal was park property and well maintained, but it also ran straight as an arrow all along the backs of the Georgetown buildings. There were people out quietly strolling, but there in the distance was a man running and he was wearing a brown jacket.

"Here," Michael yelled. "He's headed west."

And with that he took the steps down to the towpath three at a time and started to follow. Robert notified his teams and they moved down M Street to block Potomac and 33rd streets, cutting Viktor off from Georgetown. The driver took Robert down to 34th Street and skidded to a stop blocking the street. There was an alley behind the buildings above the towpath and that's where they headed.

Wisconsin Avenue was less than a quarter mile away but Viktor could have taken the footbridge across the canal ... unless. Robert saw the sign on the building entrance facing the street. Embassy of Ukraine, and something about that was just not right.

The first shot came without warning and hit Robert's driver. "Man down, all units to 34th Street," he called out on the phone. The second shot zipped over his head and tore out a chunk of the pillar beside the entrance.

34th Street ended in a small park with trees and steps down to the towpath on the right. To the left was Cady's Alley and Robert wasn't sure where the shots had come from. He crouched above the fallen driver as a volley of shots echoed from behind the building, followed by the roar of a motorcycle engine. It seems there were two shooters back there and Robert hoped one of them was Michael.

He saw movement in the park, heard two more shots, but could not pick out a target for fear of shooting Michael. The roar of a motorcycle engine filled the alley and the machine rounded the corner onto 34th Street. A flurry of bullets came his way and Robert ducked as the cycle blew past the entrance.

He tracked it with his pistol but M Street was less than fifty yards away and a stray round would hit storefronts and perhaps civilians. The brief glimpse of the man on the cycle proved it was Viktor, and he watched the machine dodge the FBI vehicle and the fishtail out onto M Street.

Robert heard footsteps running up the street and turned to see Michael coming his way followed by two FBI agents. Michael didn't stop and headed straight for the vehicle and yanked open the driver's door.

"Keys, where are the damn keys," Michael yelled.

Robert looked at the driver, realizing he didn't even know the man's name. The guy was holding his arm and blood was seeping through his jacket at the shoulder, but in his other hand he held out the keys to the SUV.

"Go on ... get the bastard," the driver said.

Robert snagged the keys just as the other agents arrived. "Call the medics," he ordered. Then on the open phone line he told the teams they were in pursuit of the suspect heading west on M Street. Michael was behind the wheel and there wasn't time to argue about it, Viktor was getting away.

Vehicles were backed up on M Street blocking the entrance from 34th. Michael revved the engine and pulled the vehicle onto the sidewalk sounding the horn to warn pedestrians in their way. Finally a clear spot and he pulled across the line of traffic and onto the westbound lanes of M Street.

"You okay?" Robert yelled.

"I shot someone back there but unfortunately it wasn't Viktor," Michael replied.

Robert donned a headset that linked him to the team of agents. "All units, be on the lookout, a second shooter is down in Cady's Alley," Robert broadcast.

"The guy won't be a problem," Michael said, "he's dead. Viktor got the motorcycle from him and a large weapon, probably an SR-2. I saw you up in the doorway ... glad you didn't shoot me."

"I didn't get off a single fucking round, and then he blew past me. He sure knows how to ride a cycle, you were right. So where is he going?"

"What's ahead?" Michael asked.

"He needs an isolated road to gather speed. MacArthur Boulevard or Canal Road, those are his choices. I say MacArthur because Canal has few exits and becomes the Clara Barton Parkway. The only thing out that way is the Washington Beltway and he knows he'll be blocked by the time he gets that far."

"So MacArthur it is, coming up now," Michael said, turning off Canal onto Foxhall Road and taking a left on MacArthur. "I wish we had some assets in the sky."

"Helicopter on the way," Robert said. "You think we'll catch up to him?"

Michael shook his head, pushing the SUV on the four lane highway and watching out for the stoplights. He had turned on the flashing lights but most D.C. drivers seem oblivious to their status as an emergency vehicle.

They flew past a shopping center and Michael toggled the siren ... .lot of good that did. They were plunging deep into residential neighborhoods now and traffic was a little lighter, but there were more cross streets.

"Team 2," Robert said into his headset microphone, and then he listened for a moment. "Copter is over Cabin John," he said aloud. "Chain Bridge is blocked off and we have assets in position out at the Beltway on-ramps."

Michael had to slow down for a bus at Little Falls Parkway and then he was back to speed as they passed the Washington Aqueduct ... and then the road became two lanes.

Robert nodded again as the surveillance team in the helicopter spotted Viktor. "We have a single rider on MacArthur coming up on Glen Echo."

"Glen Echo ... the amusement park?" Michael asked.

Robert groaned. "He's pulled into the parking lot beside a dozen school buses."

Michael nodded. "He'll feel safe with all those kids around ... we're screwed."

"All units, Glen Echo Park ... I want feet on the ground surrounding the area," Robert said.

Michael took the final curves at speed and then slowed down for the entrance. Sure enough there was a whole line of school buses in the lot. He pulled to a stop behind a motorcycle parked at the end of a row and got out. The gas tank was warm, this was Viktor's machine, and so Michael yanked the wires off the starter.

There were other SUV's in the lot by now ... the FBI had arrived in force.

"If there's a back way out we need to have it covered," Michael said. "If he does have an SR-2 then tell your guys to be careful, Viktor has a lot of bullets to use."

Michael could see dozens of kids running around inside the park. There could be no shooting inside which meant Viktor had won this round. Would he take hostages and try to hold out? Michael quickly dismissed that idea because there would be no forces coming to Viktor's rescue.

The man was in the country for a task, an assassination, and he would be committing suicide if he couldn't keep moving. No, all these civilians were just to distract the FBI until Viktor could escape ... but where could he go?

Robert and Michael walked into the park unchallenged, and they could see other agents spreading out towards the various buildings. The children's museum was on their left and straight ahead was the carousel building ... and Michael got the itch.

"The carousel," he said, "he's going to be in there waiting for us."

"That's crazy," Robert said.

"He's grandstanding for us ... he already has a way out."

The sounds emanating from the carousel building seemed normal as Michael looked at the ride spinning away inside. The sides of the building were all open leaving Viktor nowhere to hide. The music seemed to tinkle away as the animals moved up and down with hardly an empty seat ... there were dozens of kids on the ride.

Michael watched the carousel turn and there was Viktor standing behind a row of kids and smiling as the machine moved and took him out of view. A moment later Viktor was back and this time he waved at Michael. Of course, he knows me on sight, Michael thought. Viktor held up a hand and pointed a finger as if to say bang, bang, I got you. And then he spun away once again.

Arrogant asshole, Michael thought, and then the carousel came around again and Viktor was gone.

"He got off," Michael yelled and Robert said something into his headset.

Agents appeared on every side of the carousel shaking their heads. Viktor had not come out their way ... so where was he? The carousel kept turning for another half a minute before it began to slow down and the music came to a stop. Only then could Michael hear the chatter of the kids as they got off.

Several agents converged on the carousel and Michael went straight for the middle of the ride which was comprised of painted panels that hid the machinery within the center. He walked around looking for a way in and he came to a panel that looked like a door. Other agents were around him now and the kids had all been moved away from the building.

Michael pulled out his Glock and quickly opened the door. The interior room wasn't very large and in the gloom all he could see were the motors and gears that turned the carousel. Viktor had vanished.

On to Chapter Eight

Back to Chapter Six

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"No Reason to Kill" Copyright © Chris James. All rights reserved.
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