Agent M: Testament (The Agent M Series Book 2) (3 page)

Nicole sighed as young Cassandra smacked her partner across the face and dropped into another verbal lashing at his expense.

“That's the going rate to watch trained combatants kill each other anyways.”

“Why would anyone agree to throw their life away on a single fight?” Meryl posed.

“The purse draws them in. Given Mr. Rage's current sum of wealth, he probably receives between one to three million dollars per match. Promoters would usually balk and promising that much cash but then again, they'll only have to fork over the money to one fighter.”

“What's the catch?” Meryl asked, curious as to why promoters would feel stingy after spending millions just to put on a show.

“You don't have to pay the fighter that lost.”

A sickening feeling sat deep inside the pit of Meryl's stomach. Tomorrow night that man in there will be responsible for taking another man's life or losing his in the process. Her next question had a weight of sympathy that couldn't be rivaled.

“How do we put a stop to this?”

“That's the issue. Without gaining direct access to the facility, we're shit out of luck. Logan is rich in both cash and paranoia. Every fighter, attendee, and staff member goes through an extensive background check. However, everything we've learned thus far is hearsay. Dead men tell no tales and local informants are barely reliable. Unfortunately, there hasn’t been enough evidence produced for a warrant. And without that, we can't even knock on their door.”

Meryl turned to Michael and caught him neck deep into those files, explaining his silence during this line of questioning. A loud bang sharply awoke Meryl from her thoughts as she gave the violent couple in the interrogation room her full attention. While their demeanor and attitudes were unique, something about their physique and profiles struck Meryl as vaguely familiar. As soon as the realization hit, she wished her impulses weren't so God-damn uncontrollable.

“What if we walked a mile in their shoes?”

“Excuse me?” Nicole questioned trying to read between the lines of Meryl's words.

“Those two don't need a ticket. We could pose as them and walk right into the event without a second look. All we would need is slap on their costumes and some make up. Michael and I would blend right in.”

Meryl wanted to smack herself upside the head after each word yet her body wouldn't allow it. The idea sounded so good in her mind that she couldn't find the will to stop herself. Nicole fell utterly silent adding to Meryl's discomfort. Watching Michael pull the files away from his face and stare back at her with those cold brown eyes only accentuated the ludicrousness of this plan.

“Good idea.”

“Indeed,” stated Nicole.

A defiant curse echoed in Meryl's mind but not a breath of it escaped. If only she had that kind of strength thirty seconds ago. Going undercover didn't bother her; the uncertainty of the entire situation is what drew cause for concern. However, given the facts of the case, time is a luxury they had little to spare. Even Michael's indomitable skills were bound to find their limit one of these days. Someone was guaranteed to be killed tomorrow night. Unfortunately, there stood a 50/50 chance that man may very well be Michael.

While Meryl stood in disbelief and contempt, Nicole appeared to have already formulated the foundation for their plan of attack.

“Let's make the arrangements accordingly. I'll call TSA immediately and ground that flight until you two are in costume and ready to go.”

Her eyes darted towards Meryl.

“Agent Lewis. Stay here and watch the princess for a while. Try to pick up any and all of her unique mannerisms to finalize the sell.”

A distinct vulgarity cut through the glass window with enough force to nearly shatter it. Any woman would be disgusted to be referred by such a name. Cassandra had no qualms dishing out to the weak and undeserving, including her partner.

“And I do mean everything.”

The only rational response Meryl could offer was agreement. There wasn't much else she could say. After all, denouncing the very plan she came up with would only dissuade the Commander's confidence in Meryl's abilities. Something she worked very hard over the last year to attain.

“Agent Madison,” Nicole uttered, “Come with me. I have a few things to discuss with you regarding the particulars of this assignment.”

As she glanced over to Jonathan's sullen stature, it gave her another reason to pull him away.

“I doubt you'll have any issues slipping into character.”

With the Commander and Michael out of sight, Meryl was free to enjoy the show. However, she couldn't fully concentrate on the task at hand. Nicole and Michael had a peculiar relationship. Meryl couldn't quite put her finger on it. Every time a new assignment came up, there was always something Nicole had to discuss with him in private. Normally Meryl would have passed up these inquisitive thoughts. Seeing those two embracing each other during her first week sent off alarms in Meryl's system she had rarely, if ever, experienced. And even though her tactics are damn near flawless, Nicole’s methods seemed a little too deceptive for Meryl’s tastes.

Another vibrant slew of obscenities spilled out of the young girl’s mouth which cued Meryl to pay more attention. This required a lot of mental note-taking. Even the tiniest mistake could jeopardize the mission and their lives. This is certainly the most colorful character Meryl ever had to impersonate. At the very least, she could have some fun with it.

Michael was always touched with a bit of nostalgia entering the Assistant Director’s office as well as a lingering sense of regret. Nicole’s predecessor, Joshua McCrae had resided between these four walls for the better part of eight years. The countless pictures that used to hang in this room told a story of an intelligent leader, wonderful, husband, and caring father. Even after the walls of this office were decimated with an explosion, the shadows of those images still remain. One single oversight stole the life of a good man. Michael would never allow himself to forget it. Not that he had a choice. An eidetic memory was just one of the many genetic gifts he was granted before conception. Every second of that travesty replayed in his mind as if it were yesterday. That’s just one of many memories he wished never existed.

Sitting at her desk, Nicole dug into her files and handed Michael a particularly thin stack of papers. The first thing that caught his eye was slightly blurry image of a pair of men. One riddled with gray hair that a well pressed and luxurious suit had tried to overshadow and another carried a stern look on his face that could cut steel. Nicole provided additional insight before Michael had a chance to ask.

“The older gentleman is Charles Logan, owner of the Utopia Casino and Resort. His unique business savvy afforded him a hefty loan from a few choice corporations in order to build this empire. Thanks to his imaginative entertainment expenses, every penny of debt he owed had been fully paid back in just two years. Now he’s sitting on a multi-billion dollar piece of property that rivals most of the bigger casino franchises. Something that does not sit well with his competitors over the last few years.”

Men like this did not occupy rental space in Michael’s thoughts for too long. Despite their different methods of conducting business, all of them had the same goals in mind. Obtain a multitude of money in order to leverage power and use that influence to purchase things you can’t buy with money. This endless quest also shared a particular weakness. Once you push through all of their wealth, the men behind it all would fall apart quicker than a piece of wet tissue paper.

“However, he’s not our main target,” said Nicole.

Welcomed news as far as Michael was concerned. Chasing businessmen for white-collar crimes did not yield the same sense of satisfaction as brining justice to thieves, rapists, and murderers.

“The man standing next to Logan is Ryoo Myung-Dae, his undefeated champion for the last eighteen months. Sadly, Logan is good at keeping things quiet and cleaning up his mess once the massacre has ended. Since Ryoo has been fighting for Logan, he keeps him under tight lock and key. We haven’t been able to find out much of anything. However, some of our international allies have provided us with some interesting information.”

Nicole handed Michael a pair of photographs. What was supposed to look like the deceased bodies of two individuals came off as direct mutilation. Bones split through flesh, lifting in places that would require hundreds of pounds of force to tear through. Brain matter spilled through gaping holes seemingly drilled into their skulls. The image looked as if these unfortunate men had a run in with an entire gang of individuals yet Michael inferred this was not the case.

“These were taken about a year ago, just before Logan recruited him into his tournaments. Ryoo headlined as a bouncer for a prestigious club in Taiwan. Those were a just some examples of the poor saps that attempted to push his buttons.”

This news begged Michael to ask the obvious question.

“Ryoo did this by himself?”

“With his bare hands through various witness testimony.”

Nostalgia tickled Michael’s chest. The last person he knew with this kind of physical power was a young Russian named Kurtis who had undergone a severe identity crisis. That kid once believed he was the ultimate human soldier born through Project Mabus; and he died thinking that, never knowing that he was living in Michael’s shadow. Their similarities in strength as dictated by personal experience and these photographs could only be explained by one substance.

“Agent M.”

“Exactly,” Nicole replied. “We don’t know how he got his hands on that drug. On the surface, the bureau will believe this is a routine operation to stop illegal gambling activity. However, that is not the true purpose of this assignment. Ryoo is a killer but what we’re lacking is a clear motive for him and his supplier. His intentions and desires are all a mystery. It’s possible he’s simply driven by money since he hasn’t been linked to any specific organization other than Logan’s after entering this country. Regardless of his personal reasons, we need to trace it back to the source and shut it down permanently before its influence has a chance to spread.”

Michael wholeheartedly agreed. A substance as lethal as Agent M should remained buried in the same bunker that gave birth to him. Fighting one Kurtis was bad enough. Taking on an army of them would be beyond even Michael’s limits. Admitting that reminded Michael to refrain from biting off more than he could chew or else he may wind up in a similar photograph. At least this explained why Nicole would be so concerned with a case out of their jurisdiction.

Lifting herself up from her desk, Nicole walked to back window in her office and gazed at the busy scene of serenity only the city of Los Angeles is capable of.

“Asking you to be careful might be a bit cliché but I just can’t help but worry. It’s not that I don’t have faith in your abilities,” she paused, “I just wish it didn’t have to come to this.”

She turned to face Michael and found only a familiar stoic expression. He didn’t put up a fight, question her orders, or even offered an opinion on the matter. Michael listened to every word she said and would do anything and everything she asked. Just like Nicole raised him.

Hard taps resonated from Nicole’s door. The familiar calling sign of her favorite agent’s partner. She may have gotten filled up with obscene thoughts, words, and memories to cover a few lifetimes.

“Come in,” Nicole replied.

Meryl casually stepped into the office carrying a black duffle bag. She couldn’t put her finger on it but Nicole swore that Meryl had something up her sleeve. If that subtle smirk on her face didn’t pop up when she quickly glanced at Michael, Nicole would have missed it entirely.

“Had enough of her charming personality?”

“Not exactly,” started Meryl, “She’s unconscious.”

Nicole raised an eyebrow.

“You didn’t?”

Meryl smiled and shook her head.

“Not me. Sheriff’s tazed her after she jumped up and started choking her partner. That girl is fairly crafty for someone who’s got both hands cuffed behind her back.”

“That I can believe, however, why does that girl pick on him so much?” Asked a genuinely quizzical Nicole.

Now there’s something Meryl had a little insight on.

“Apparently he wanted to admit everything just so he wouldn’t incur the wrath from his brothers. He started shouting ‘I confess’ over and over again while listing off some pretty heinous crimes.”

Pinching the bridge of her nose, Nicole wondered how two completely uncivilized and barbaric people ended up in her building on such a beautiful day.

“Are we ready to go?” Michael asked, breaking the silence.

She tried her best to contain the grin but Meryl just couldn’t say “Uh huh,” without hiding her smile. Michael’s brow tightened as it always did when he was curious about something but didn’t know exactly what to ask.

“The makeup team just got here but first,” began Meryl as she casually forced her hand into the duffel bag.

From with the depths, out came a shining black leather outfit adorned with bright red and orange flames protruding from every angle.

“You’re going to have to try this on.”

It all made sense now. Nicole’s previous estimation of Meryl’s attitude was perhaps a bit misguided but nonetheless, she definitely had a reason to snicker. Even Nicole couldn’t keep a professional composure. Holding back her laughter almost choked the air out of her throat.