Rise of the Pheonix: Act 2 Read online

  Contents

  RISE of the PHOENIX: Act II

  Acknowledgement

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Now Available

  Other Works by Dameon Gibbs

  RISE of the PHOENIX: Act II

  Dameon Gibbs

  Corey Ballard

  Rise of the Phoenix: Act II

  Copyright©2015

  Dameon Gibbs & Corey Ballard

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form, except for the inclusion of brief quotations in a review, without expressed permission in written form by the author.

  Acknowledgement

  First, I would like to thank my beautiful wife Tiffany for being by my side and supporting me every step of the way. And to my other friends and family that continues to believe in me when others do not. Special thanks of appreciation go to my Eastern Shore parents Mrs. Pat and Mr. Fred, for this would not have been possible if it were not for your dedicated long hours. Last but not least, to my brother in arms Corey, all I can say is. WE DID IT!------ Dameon Gibbs

  I’d like to thank Dad and Mom for believing in us and all the endless hours of editing you’ve helped with and still are. Haley and Gene for committing to help with such a narrow window. To all my friends who’ve helped keep this alive and epic. Last, my co-author for putting up with all my roadblocks and driving me to finish our great novel!-----Corey Ballard

  Chapter 1

  June 29, Present day

  07:13 am EST

  Tucker woke the following morning to find Edge sitting in an office chair looking at an electronic tablet with his feet propped next to Tucker’s head. The small room was not a four-star hotel, but it sufficed. Tucker chuckled as the room reminded him of his home: Spartan-like. He tried to sit up but as he got halfway his body resisted by reminding him all at once of every bruise he had received the day before.

  “Ow!” Tucker yelped as he rolled to the side of the bed and placed his feet on the floor, bending over them.

  “Morning, sunshine. How ya doing?” Edge asked as he peered over at the cot to look at Tucker, whose grunt was Edge’s only answer.

  A deep moan escaped Tucker as he sat completely upright. His face contorted when more than a few places popped that he never felt pop before.

  “I understand your reasoning that going to a hotel might lead us to another ambush,” Tucker began, “but at this moment, I firmly believe that the feeling of a real bed versus these cardboard cots would’ve been worth the risk.”

  “I told you to take some pain killers and to stretch,” Edge reminded him, “But you had to spend all that time searching for evidence before you let yourself crash.” Edge jumped to his feet, the brisk move earning a look of resentment from the slowly rising analyst. “Here, you need to get that blood flowing; let me help you.”

  “No, I’m fine. Really,” Tucker contested, afraid that Edge would make things worse in his attempt to help.

  Edge grabbed Tucker and yanked him to a standing position.

  “AHHHH, crap!” Tucker bellowed as more pain shot through his body. He paused and let the pain recede before he said, “Seeing that I’m standing, I guess I can get clean. Where’s the shower?” Tucker asked.

  Edge-directed him to the door and chuckled as the giant limped. They had both gotten only four or so hours sleep, as they spent most of the night gathering evidence from the vehicle and equipment of the dead soldiers before trekking down the near impassable muddied road. As the John Doe found in the quicksand, they were unable to establish any positive IDs on the corpses. They were unable to trace the car, weapons, and the unique armor to any distributor or military installation. It was as if all the evidence had materialized from thin air.

  Tucker utilized a variety of databases, everything from the CIA to the Military; even MI-6. Unfortunately, the inquirers had resulted in nothing.

  We have billions of dollars at our disposal across countless agencies, and we can’t even find a driver’s license, Edge thought as he thumbed through the headlines.

  They had sent Agents Reid and Webster home to get some sleep and then they had returned later to tag out Tucker and Edge. Edge had adapted to running on few hours of sleep day after day. Tucker, on the other hand, was not so used to the experience and the signs of the exhaustion were clear on his face.

  I need him to be on top of his game. The man runs like a computer, but without rest he’s bound to make mistakes; mistakes that may take us down the wrong path, Edge thought as he wondered about what the big man did to distract himself. By Tucker’s size it was a guarantee that he could lift weights and Tucker had mentioned that he went to the gun range, but Edge could tell the man needed a better outlet for stress. Tucker may be in his early thirties, but sometimes he looks damn near forty. When this is over, I’m taking him on a hiking trip… though a strip club might do him more good.

  Time passed, and Tucker returned to the room, moving a bit faster and feeling a little refreshed. He kept getting distracted by what had happened yesterday. In the shower, he swore he still felt Wolf’s razor sharp knife against his neck. He expected the anxiety to pass but knew that his mind would revisit those terrifying moments frequently, especially the sight of Bull committing suicide. When he looked at Edge, the man seemed relaxed, even in the moments just after the battle. He understood that Edge was a trained soldier but how trained could an individual be to end the lives of seven people and show no reaction? He looked no different from when they had first met.

  No real change in his facial expression, no signs of worry or soreness, let alone any indication of stress, Tucker thought, amazed. He went to say something when a knock came at the door, followed by Reid’s entrance.

  “Hey, guys,” Reid greeted. “They finished working on the video.” He slid a laptop he had brought in across one of the tables towards Tucker and Edge.

  Tucker was surprised. “I thought the techs said it was going to take until later this afternoon,” he said while drying out his ear with a q-tip.

  During the initial premiere of Arslan’s video things did not go as well as they had hoped. There were so many glares and so many reflections on the windows that the only person who could clearly be made out was Nezaket; the rest of the people were silhouettes. Then there was the audio, so low that the squawks of birds above drowned out what audible evidence there might have been.

  Reid shook his head. “Yeah, I know the guy you spoke to. He likes to say that to seem like the hero after he fixes it real quick like. No doubt it took him some time to work through it, but he knew it would be quicker than he had estimated.”

  “Well, I hope we got something good,” Tucker said as he nodded towards the laptop.

  “Before we play it, let me preface by saying he got us something,” Reid told them.

  Edge sat down next to Reid. “What do you mean ‘something’?”

  “He was able to isolate the audio tracks so we can kind of hear what was said. Well, when the volume is all the way up. We ran the voices through audio databases and got no hits, not even Nezaket.”

  Reid started the video which showed some of the Everglades. He continued to narrate the video, “The beginning is just Arslan running through the ’Glades.” He hit the fast forward button causing the video to squeal as the footage sped up before he stopped at a scene showing the cabin. “Okay, here’s where he started recording the meeting between his father and our mystery men.

  “As you can see
there was little they could do to clear up the picture,” Reid said as he attempted to adjust the video on the laptop. Even with the shaky camera view of the meeting room, the figures in the room could be made out, but it was not clear enough to make out any defining features for identification. Nezaket was the only exception as he sat at the head of the table with his bodyguards standing behind him, their hands crossed along their belts. Another man sat across from him at the other end of the table, his back mostly to the camera. His only visible feature was his bald head, which was not much of a lead.

  With the volume up they were able to make out the conversation between Nezaket and the unknown man.

  “Are the plans in motion?” the bald man asked.

  “Of course, they are,” Nezaket responded with a hint of pride in his voice. “And as long as you hold up your end of the plan, things should continue to go smoothly, and honor will be restored to my country by the end of it.”

  “We have much more than the honor of your country riding on this, and yes, many great things are going to happen. The restoration of a forgotten dissolved empire is not a priority.”

  The body language of Nezaket shifted so that even through the blurred video his anger glowed like a red aura.

  “This is about hitting Global Trust and establishing the Order,” The faceless man lectured Nezaket.

  “What are you talking about?” Nezaket asked, agitated. “It has been promised to me that the Kilij would get your resources and enhance our reputation! Without me the Order would be nothing; without my resources this operation would be a rock in a pond and simply sink without a ripple!”

  The man walked across the room and sat at the end of the table.

  “You will get to claim victory but not the way you want it. You’ll get the bulls-eye on your back and no support from us. You’ll simply be the scapegoat that allows the Order to move onto the next stage unnoticed.”

  “You wouldn’t dare dishonor me in such a way!” Nezaket lashed out in his heavy Turkish accent. “If so, you will bring hell down upon yourself!”

  The man chuckled at the threat. “My old friend… I live in hell, and when I need to be, I’m its messenger. Times are changing, and our use for you has run its course.”

  Infuriated by the man’s words, Nezaket pounded his fist on the table in rage as he stood. The man followed suit and very smoothly drew his gun and pulled the trigger as soon as it touched Nezaket’s head. Afterward, all that could be heard was the roar of more gunfire as Arslan ducked for cover, ending the video.

  “Well, that was brutal,” Reid commented.

  “And efficient,” Edge commented. “It was planned. The killer set up his men, so they had the tactical advantage. Did you see the signal he gave?” Reid and Tucker shook their head. “When he sat down on the table his men made a slight adjustment. As soon as Nezaket was executed they jumped into action.”

  “Well, this confirms that Nezaket and his men knew their attackers. Otherwise, they wouldn’t have let their guard down like that,” Reid commented. “Also, did I hear that guy right: the ‘Order’? Is this a religious cult?”

  “I’m not sure,” Tucker responded as he went to his folders. “There’s been no chatter of such an organization, as far as I can remember, with that name.” He rummaged through his files scanning pieces of paper.

  “You might not hear about it either,” Reid warned. “It sounded like they’ve been working hard to stay out of the spotlight, using fronts to conceal their plans. Besides, I doubt that the ‘Order’ is the whole name,” Reid said.

  Tucker dropped one of the folders on his bed. “You don’t get involved with a man like Nezaket without having credibility. Which means this ‘Order’ had to have done something to establish itself in the world.”

  Edge sat, still looking at the laptop, scratching his chin. “What if… maybe what they did to establish themselves was in the US, not abroad?”

  “Then we definitely would’ve known about it,” Reid said leaning back in his chair.

  “Not if they’re working with the government,” Edge advised.

  Tucker shook his head and walked away from the laptop. “After yesterday, I believe that someone is probably monitoring our movements. This video tells us it's some sort of organization that has enough clout to impress Nezaket. But, still I can’t buy that there is a government agency working with these guys. My gut is saying this is part of an attack on the US, and I can’t see a government agency supporting that. We just need to dig deeper, and I’m sure we’ll find out exactly who they are, or, at least, their affiliates for a start.”

  “They may be affiliated with a government agency under false purposes,” Edge suggested. “And the government doesn’t understand their real agenda. Think - how many missions have you heard about where former special operation types used our government’s resources to establish their criminal enterprise? Heck, I once killed a former US Marshall that was involved in human trafficking in Europe.”

  Tucker stroked his head as he walked back towards the table. “Arslan said his father wanted him to witness something, right. An event, in particular, I believe that’s what Arslan said. Reid, you’re sure your team didn’t come across anything in the way of a terrorist target?”

  “Nothing of symbolic importance,” Reid said. “It’s just a bunch of mundane events coming up: baseball games, races, carnivals.”

  “Then how about this Global Trust place?” Edge asked and turned his attention to Reid, who was deep in thought.

  With the room silent, Reid took a moment before he snapped his fingers. “Oh, I remember. It’s a major international bank located in Miami, one of the tallest towers in the city.”

  “What specifically do they deal with?” Edge asked.

  Reid shrugged. “I think large companies like oil or mining. But I’ll grab Crawford and get a better picture.”

  Pete Crawford was the last member of Reid’s small team. He had been on vacation in Sweden and had been flown back specifically to work this case. He had arrived last night at the same time Tucker and Edge had returned from the ‘Glades and Crawford had looked no better than they had. With the time zone changes and layovers, he could have passed for the walking dead.

  “You think he’s over his jet lag yet? Before he went home he looked out of it,” Edge asked.

  “Just put six cups of coffee in him and he’ll be ready to go. Anyway, I’ll get a list of Global Trust's clients and any new ventures they’re getting involved with.”

  “I wouldn’t expect a major bank like that to give you that information willingly,” Edge warned.

  “I don’t expect them to either, but I know some people that can get us that information on them via other less official routes.” With a wink Reid walked out of the room.

  Edge stood up and pressed play on the video again. He watched the scene of Nezaket’s head snapping back, the red mist covering his men. No kid should have to watch their father’s murder.

  Tucker watched as Edge focused on the execution. “What’s on your mind?”

  “Can you imagine having to witness something like this at that kid’s age?” Edge pondered.

  Tucker looked at him for a moment and said, “It’s tragic, but there’s something else on your mind.”

  Edge closed the laptop and walked over to Tucker. “It doesn’t bother you that those guys knew exactly where to find us at the cabin yesterday? Or how they knew so much about us?”

  “I think it’s obvious, they somehow tapped our phones,” Tucker responded. “Do you think they’ve infiltrated our group?”

  “I wouldn’t shoot the idea of a mole down, especially after yesterday. I mean, how did they know to tap our phones? No one knows the reason we’re down here except for a small number of people and only a few of them know us by name.”

  Tucker shook his head. “Look Edge, the people involved with any aspect of this case has all been thoroughly vetted.”

  “Do you remember the Cold War? Don’t you think t
here are spies who’d gotten past the vetting process? Groups like this plan years in advance and slowly infiltrate people into key positions,” Edge responded with a hint of frustration.

  Tucker was still dismissive of Edge’s conspiracy angle. Precedent certainly backed the man's claims but, it did not apply to the current scenario. “I agree, we might have underestimated their access to certain resources, but that just means they’re well financed. Somehow they can get the top of the line technology, allowing them to tap our communications or intercept e-mails. And on top of that, hire the mercenaries we encountered.”

  “Mercs? You think those were mercs?” Edge interrupted. “Those were not mercs. I’ve fought mercs and have worked with them. They get paid to do a job, but they don’t inject potassium cyanide from a wristband to prevent themselves from talking. These guys are way above and beyond hired mercenaries on the commitment scale. This ‘Order’ is more than a bunch of soldiers of fortune; it requires cult-like devotion from its members. And if this group can sneak Nezaket into the country, and can then afford to kill him, they have the ability to infiltrate the government and monitor this case.”

  Tucker had to laugh inside. How many times had he been the one making a case to his superiors, hitting them with facts and pounding the table? And here he was on the receiving end of the argument. Edge’s face told him the man was not looking at this as a hypothetical anymore. This conspiracy angle was becoming realer for the man with every new piece of theoretical evidence they got.

  “Then who do we look at?” Tucker questioned. “Reid? Webster? The shrinks? What about all the techs that worked the crime scene? Or that coroner, Dr. Bailey? How about Crawford, huh? He wasn’t even in the country until last night. Is he a suspect, too? Who do we investigate?”

  He was frustrated by Edge’s lack of trust in the government, which he attributed to the fact that Delta’s tend to dislike interactions with spooks. Still, he decided to humor Edge and follow along with his train of thought. After all, there was a time when my ideas were thought to be too far out there.