NIGHT DROP( A Eric the Red thriller: Book 1)

Chapter 8: Always have an escape plan

Trond folded in the tripod on his Remington 700 sniper rifle; he'd grabbed the Hummer before heading over to one of the apartments across from the embassy. With Davenport dead, there was no way Red could connect him to Headshot, still he had the footage from the CCTV surveillance cameras. But right now, he needed to get out of here fast and quick. Reaching into his pocket,  he pulled out his burner and entered ten digit secure encrypted Number. He held the phone up to his ear.

It had been on one of his missions in Tallinn, Estonia where he'd been ambushed in a shootout by Russian assassins outside Danske bank, who had  been dispatched by the Russian mafia to eliminate him. Before he could find  out about the money being laundered through the bank. Out of nowhere, high caliber rounds rang down on the assassins. After that he had been approached by a shadowy looking man who had told him that he was chief of security for assassin organization.

A voice came on the other end of the  line and said " confirm please"

"X-ray Omega Eagle," Gunner stated.

"Where are you?" Callan inquired in a cool tone.

"I'm  atop of an apartment across the Oslo embassy," Trond told him.

Callan thought for a moment before he spoke. He couldn't take a chance on Gunner being caught or exposed by the CIA. If that happened, they'd certainly would fly him to some foreign country where there was a CIA secret prison to be interrogated. By CIA interrogator. His best option was to have him killed.  He would leave that up to Atticus and his network of assassins handle it.

"Get to one of your safe houses and lie low until the team comes to retrieve you," Callen told him as he ended the conversation.

Trond placed the burner back in his pocket. His instinct told him that this could be a set-up knowing how skillful and dangerous Callen was. Therefore, he would have to outsmart the team that had been dispatched to retrieve him.

 He had a strange feeling he knew who'd be leading the team Atticus, which meant that this wasn't going to be retrieval team at all but a wet job team to eliminate him. He should have known that Callen couldn't be trusted.

Grabbing his Remington 700, he darted down the emergency exit staircase behind the apartment as his eyes darted back and forth, looking for any sudden movement. He wasn't going to wait around, that was for sure, if Headshot was going to dispatch a wet job team after him. He immediately spotted a jeep parked not too far. Sprinting out from an alleyway, he headed down the sidewalk navigating his through a crowd walking by. He veered around the corner coming up to the Jeep, seeing that no there key inside, he would have to hi skills to hot wire it.

He tossed the burner on the ground,  as he slammed his down foot on it. After that, he threw into the garbage can outside one of the stores. Jumping into the driver-side of the jeep, he tossed his sniper rifle in the back and reached down seeing the two wires. Trond connected with the wires as the jeep engine started to roar.

He sped down the streets his mind raced back and forth, this time trying to figure who would be Atticus lead assassin on the wet job team. It had to be their best and most efficient assassin: Medusa. If they were going to try to scrub him, he would bring the fight to them.  

Five minutes later he'd driven into  a neighbourhood, suburbs  of the city, as he turned the corner and drove up the street,  until he came to the safe house. He pulled up along the curve and parked. Stepping out, closing the door behind him, he grabbed the sniper rifle from the back  of the jeep and strode up the driveway to the entrance. 

He  entered the passcode, as he glanced around making sure that no one had tailed him here? The sensor turned green, Trond grabbed the door handle and entered into a medium room with massive screens attached to the wall and a keyboard on a desk near it. Across from it was the kitchen and there was the corridor with a couple bedrooms 

Placing his Remington 700 down on the table, he strolled over to the safe behind the painting on the wall and then carefully removed the painting placing on the table. He grabbed spare ammo in case he needed it. He knew about Medusa to know that she would be waiting to take the kill from an extreme distance from a rooftop of a building.

Yes, he had taken kickback from the Russian Mining company in Salvard. He had no idea that they were connected to Headshot, but luckily he'd had kept some encrypted files on the mining company. What made it worst was trying to blackmail them or the chief of security. They were too powerful and dangerous or who had on their payroll. 

Closing the door on the safe, he picked up the painting and placed back on the wall. He trembled at the thought of them finding out that he had files on the mining company, they certainly would have him killed. He'd joined the Norwegian Intelligence service wanting protect his country's national security, but instead found himself working for E14 and now for Headshot. There was no way out for him now, even he fled from here, they would track him down.

Maybe the fact that he knew about the mining company made him expendable, but it was better to have upper if you didn't who were dealing with he thought to himself.

His original plan had been to hi release the files to NIS or even the CIA if anything happened to him. Everything had all changed now with this so-called solo CIA operation in Oslo  now and plus now he needed to be careful with Red still out there. His options were running out. Well, he wasn't going to give up without a fight, that was for sure.

There was little he could do now, just sit and wait for them to arrive. Then he'd use everything he trained and taught to put them in the ground if he could. It would be bullet that he didn't see or hear that would eliminate him, he knew.

Though he was a field agent, he could still hit his target, what worried him was that the fact these assassins wouldn't stop until they put him in the ground. Reaching into his shoulder holster, withdrew his pistol, placing on the table near the Remington 700. There had a been a reason  they saved his life from the Russian assassins, and that was they wanted him asset plan and simple.