Free Clear by Fire by Joshua Hood Page A

detection.
    It had been a week since their last contact and the site Mason logged in to was for Nissan car enthusiasts. The Web page allowed people to chat on various blogs or privately message another member. After typing in his password, Mason composed a quick message explaining his need to get out of the country.
    The message was addressed to “gearhead71” and Mason wrote, “I need a new brake job on my old truck and wanted to know a good time to bring it by the shop.”
    Leaning back in the plastic chair, Mason lit a cigarette as the phone in his pocket chirped. Vernon was making a call.
    Mason plugged an earpiece into the cloned phone and, shoving the earbud into his ear, hit the answer button. On the same day he shook Vernon’s hand to begin working for him, he’d broken into the spy’s apartment and found the cache of burner phones that Vernon rotated sporadically. Mason hadn’t had time to clone them all, but luckily the CIA man was lazy and soon tired of rotating the phones, which gave Mason the upper hand.
    “Yes,” a man’s voice answered. Not someone Mason could recognize, but definitely someone in command.
    The connection was bad and Mason assumed that whoever was on the other line was using a satellite phone.
    “Are you secure?” Vernon asked.
    “I wouldn’t answer if I wasn’t.”
    Mason leaned forward and closed his eyes against the babble of the room. He didn’t recognize the voice, but he was immediately struck by the inherent command of the speaker’s tone. This was a man used to giving orders.
    “The target made it out of Kona, he’s going to Libya.”
    “Libya.” There was a long pause on the line.
    “Yes, sir, is that a problem?” Vernon asked hesitantly. He was obviously intimidated by the man on the other end of the line.
    “No. Are you sure?”
    “Yes, sir, I’m sure. Look, I’ve released his file to the locals, so there’s nothing to worry about. Is everything set on your end?”
    “Does he know about me?”
    “No, how could he?”
    “Because he’s a lot smarter than you are.”
    “Look, he has no idea what’s going on. Trust me.”
    “I find that people who ask for trust are usually the ones who don’t deserve it. Send Decklin to deal with him, and tell him not to fuck it up this time.”
    “Yes, sir, what about the drone?”
    “As long as you have done your part, Barnes will take care of the rest.”
    “I loaded the override software, and the target’s itinerary has been forwarded to the colonel.”
    “Get Decklin to Libya, and take care of this problem,” the voice replied.
    “Okay, I’ll—” The line went dead before Vernon could finish his sentence and a second later the spy ended the connection.
    Mason felt a chill creep up his spine as he tried to process the conversation. Obviously Decklin and Vernon were up to something, and it involved Barnes pretty deeply.
    He’d heard rumors that his old teammate had sold his soul to the private sector, but it sure sounded like someone was putting the band back together. Decklin had many talents, but his lack of ethics was what made him valuable. There was nothing the man wouldn’t do if he thought it would profit him.
    Mason had learned this lesson firsthand.
    The local intelligence apparatus was a joke, but if Vernon leaked the fact that he was in Morocco, there was no way for him to know who would come out of the shadows for a chance to take him out.
    Mason’s hand slipped subconsciously to his pistol. The bulge was reassuring but not practical in the tight confines of the Internet café. Checking his watch nervously, he decided to give Ahmed five minutes to reply and then he had to leave.
    He lit another cigarette and felt his foot tapping nervously on the chipped concrete floor. Mason strained to see the front door. It was out of sight, hidden just off to his left.
    The computer tab blinked suddenly and a small white envelope appeared at the bottom of the screen. He clicked it open and greedily read