The Suppressor by Erik Carter (best free novels .txt) 📗

first, so I guess it was a bit of a tag-team effort. Call it 70-30.”

“Assets don’t work in teams,” Briggs said from a thousand miles away in D.C. “That was the whole point of this training assignment. It was meant to be Suppressor’s final exam.”

“So, he had a little helping hand. So what? You just don’t wanna admit that I was right, that Silence Jones is Asset material. I’d say that’s impossible for you to deny now, since he also led the FBI to Burton’s contact, a guy with connections to terrorist cells all over the Middle East and Europe.” He paused. “Sooooo … does he have your approval?”

Laswell’s fist clenched as he held his breath.

And he hoped to hell Briggs wouldn’t do another one of his long, pensive pauses.

Thankfully, the pause was brief, only a second or so.

“He does,” Briggs said.

Laswell released both his breath and his clenched fist. “Thank you, sir.”

“Don’t make me regret this decision. Good evening.”

Laswell grinned. “Good evening, Senator.”

He pressed the END button.

Footsteps behind him. He turned and found Nakiri approaching, her gray eyes waiting for him, staring coldly.

Always such a delight, she was.

He sighed.

She’d changed out of her tactical gear and now wore skin-tight jeans, black boots, a gray sweater, a bit of makeup. The same woman, but totally different. She was good at switching into an out of personas.

“Where is he?” Laswell said.

“Should be here any moment.”

“He did it,” Laswell said as Nakiri stopped a couple feet away from him.

She scoffed. “Not without my help. I loosened the lid for him.”

“And he tore the damn thing right off. You think he’s got what it takes?”

“Do you really give a shit about my opinion?”

He didn’t reply. Laswell had a policy of not answering questions that were answers to his questions.

She groaned, looked across the water to the port. “Yeah, he’s got the right stuff.”

Laswell gave her a smartass grin. “I know he does. I told both you and Briggs he has it. Told ya, told ya, told ya!”

Laswell felt a sudden presence behind him. He jumped.

There was Silence.

Materialized from the shadows.

“You scared the shit out of me,” Laswell said, and then he grinned. “Stealth. Very nice.”

“I taught him that,” Nakiri said with the trademark dark twinkle in her eye. “And now that my instructing days are behind me, can you give me my next final assignment as soon as possible? As much as I like you, Falcon, I’m ready to never see you again.”

“Nakiri, I never took away your final assignment. I only changed the parameters. I told you I took it away because I needed you to train Suppressor—ruthlessly, efficiently, and fast. I told you what you needed to hear to get the job done. And I also needed to see if you had it in you to do the right thing, one last test before I cut you loose into the free world again.” He gave her a respectful nod, almost a bow. “You passed the test. Assignment complete, Nakiri. Go. Go live the rest of your life.”

Nakiri turned to him. Her face melted, softening at the corners of her eyes, lips parting.

Laswell waved his hand back and forth between Nakiri and Silence. “You two never met, by the way.”

Nakiri continued to look at him. She reached out and steadied herself on the hand railing.

Laswell swiped her hand away and shooed her off with a wave of the fingers. “What are you waiting for? Get out of here.”

Her eyes remained fixed on him. Then, slowly, she turned to Silence. A moment of staring at the new Asset. Then she put her hand on Silence’s shoulder, squeezed, and turned.

Her back was to them now.

A few steps at a slow pace, hips sashaying, the heels of her boots clicking on the concrete.

And then a brisk walk.

Then a jog.

Then she was running.

She disappeared into the night.

Laswell turned to Silence. “She’s something else, isn’t she?”

Silence nodded.

“I got something for you, Si,” he said. “That’s what I’m gonna call you, by the way. Si. I like nicknames. Okay by you?”

“Yes.”

That voice. No matter how many times Laswell heard it, he still couldn’t get used to it. Bizarre. Creepy.

Laswell smacked him on the shoulder. “You sound like a rusty chainsaw that’s been fired up after sitting in the back corner of a barn for a decade or so.”

Silence blinked.

“Anyway.” Laswell reached into his pocket and pulled out the folded piece of paper. “I had a Specialist run the card you faxed me.”

At the top of the sheet was a black-and-white image of the Alabama driver’s license Silence had scanned.

“Manual Doughty. Three prior arrests, one for murder. Not enough evidence to hold him. Our Specialist made a few adjustments in the computer, and some additional evidence just arrived via email at the Mobile Police Department. Doughty’s been arrested again, and unless he gets the world’s best public defender, he won’t beat the rap this time. He’ll never bother your neighbor again.”

“Thank you.”

Laswell nodded. “Walk with me, Si.”

He started along the walkway. Silence fell into place beside him. Small waves lapped against the pier wall. Sounds of the festival in the distance. A seagull cackled as it floated on the thermals in the nighttime sky.

“I’ve given some thought to your debt,” Laswell said. “And I finally completed it yesterday. It’s a damn good idea, if I say so myself.”

He smiled, and his mustache twitched.

“You were all over the place as Jake Rowe. A few years of this, a few years of that—high school teacher, college professor, police officer. And I understand that Cecilia Farone was helping you to organize your headspace, that you have issues with concentration and focus. Now you’ve received a brand-new life with a new face, new voice, new name, and you’ve lost the love of your life.”

Silence shrugged and offered him a bit of a frown. Tell me something I don’t know, he seemed to say. He was getting eerily talented at non-verbal communication. Good. The guy was going to need it.

“So your debt is going