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

Chapter 12: Black on black

Greece, Kato Antikeri Island, Paris

Callan rose from where was he sitting at his desk in his office. He rubbed his chin as he thought about Holiday and Night drop. He'd wondered how Holiday had found out about the base; there was no way there was a leak in the organization, he had made sure of that himself. So that meant only one thing: that someone in the Military had informed the CIA. Unlike his father, who was a colonel in the Marine who commanded his own platoon, he had decided that Headshot could profit from the Iraq war and Afghanistan. Strolling out of his office, he headed over to Huntley's office, knowing that he wouldn't to be pleased to hear what he was tell him about Holiday and Night drop.

Entering the office, he chose his words carefully as he says" I know who this assassin is working for Sir..as he walked over to Huntley  desk. He pressed on, " Eric the Red is working for Night drop."

Colt jumped from his chair at his desk, his expression hardened as his eyes narrowed on Callan as he spoke. " Night drop god dammit Holiday we never did see eye to eye on the war. This Red was the sniper who assassinated our arms merchant in Afghanistan and now they are trying to me take down I won't let that happen Callan."

"How should we handle this then," Callan inquired.

"I thought Gunner was going to handle this Red for us," Colt asked in a demanding tone.

"Davenport is dead, he eliminated her before he could tell Red anything more about us. Plus, he's expandable and if Holiday gets to him before us he could talk. I put Medusa on it," Callan told him.

"Good we can't have loose ends, I want this handled delicately," Colt stated.    

Callan understood what   term delicately meant in the assassination business. It was his job to see that targets were eliminated with no problems and he did it exceptionally well. While Hunaid had been an asset in the Talbian, there was always a liability to that. Night drop had been a problem in Afghanistan for them. He had underestimated this sniper then, but now anymore. Now that he knew who they were up against, a plan became to form in his mind. Before the plan could happen, they needed to iron out the logistics of Thunderstorm.

"Callan, I need you to go to Paris to meet Miss Leslie Alexis. She's a cleaner who used to work for The Raptor. My contact in the Russian mafia recommended her for our organization," Colt said, picking up the bullet from his desk.

Callan had heard about her through when he was in the CIA before. The word was she was the best in the business and if that's what Huntley wanted he could get her for him whatever it took. He nodded as he walked out of Huntley's office, knowing that Nigel Caspian wasn't a problem for them no longer had him scrubbed when he met Holiday in Washington, DC still he wondered what might Caspian had told Holiday.

He strolled down the corridor over to the private elevator that took him down to the main entrance and then he emerged out and head over to the private landing strip where their aircraft was parked. A few seconds later he hopped on the 150 Gulfstream and strode over to his seat. He sat down as he glanced out the window and thought about how much he wanted to put Red into the ground.

The private aircraft roared into the sky above the island. In an hour he would be landing in Paris. The Gulfstream began to descend through the clouds as it roared down onto the tarmac outside the private hangar of The Rossiey Charles de Gaulle International Airport. The hanger, of course, belonged to the organization. Callan stepped off and strode over to his 2021 Lexus RT that was parked outside waiting for him.

 Grabbing the door, he slid into the driver-side and closed the door behind him. Reaching into his pocket inside his cashmere suit, he took out his dark sunglasses and slipped on.   He sped out through the security gate as he sped down the narrow streets passing cafes, and boutique shops along the way. He knew enough about the Raptor to know at one time that he had worked for the Russians and The CIA of course. He'd read his redacted file early, finding out that he was an ex Navy seal named Hugh Charles and that he'd hired Leslie Alexis

He drove into an expensive Parisian looking neighborhood as he turned the corner, pulling up to a five-story sprawling white and golden mansion with a Mercedes Benz parked on the driveway. He stepped out, grabbing the door of his Lexus, this was his first time in Paris. Usually he had one of their handlers here handle everything here. Walking up the long sidewalk to the front entrance of the mansion, he surveyed the surrounding area before he knocked on the door.

Leslie, Alexis strolled out of the den in her office as she walked down the corridor to the door. She paused before the door, wondering who could be? She wasn't expecting anyone soon, the only people who knew about her place in Paris where the CIA and Alpha group, she thought to herself.

"Hello, who are you," she asked in a curious tone, giving him the once over.

"Miss Alexis My name is Flynn Callan I work for an organization that specializes in assassinations. We would like to hire you as a cleaner for our assassins. We'll hire ten million dollars into your offshore bank account of your choosing." 

"Mr. Callan, if you mind me asking, how did you find me," She inquired in a threatening tone.

Callan chose his next words carefully before he spoke. " Let's just say that I have contacts in the Russian mafia and the CIA who told me about you and recommended you to us."

"I hate to disappoint you Mr. Callan, but I'm retired now my days as a cleaner our over," She stated 

"Looks like you did quite well as cleaner Miss Alexis to afford this mansion and the Mercedes Benz. Tell me, do you miss cleaning up after the assassins and traveling all over the world? I know that you used to work for the Raptor at one time," Callan  told her.

Leslie thought for a moment as she rubbed her chin. Yes, she did miss all of that and traveling. But she wasn't sure she could trust Mr. Callan or his organization. In her profession one could never be too careful. There was only one way to find out if she could, and that was to work for this organization. While Guts and instincts warned her that this organization could be dangerous and trouble she listened to her heart.

"I'll work for your organization on one condition Mr. Callan," She told him.

"What's your one condition, Miss Alexis," Callan inquired.

"If I don't like what I see when I work for your organization, I can leave. I don't want to be hunted by anyone from there," Leslie explained to him.

Callan nodded in agreement with her as Leslie pivoted, heading for the den where her duffle bag was that contained her cleaning supplies that she would need, and then made over to the safe where and the code. The sensor turned green as the door opened as she snatched Colt 1911 and slipped it behind her jacket that she was wearing. After that, she closed it, grabbing the bag and emerged from the den strolling over to the front door.

Leslie walked out as she closed the door behind, as they strode down the sidewalk over to the curve where his Lexus was parked. Callan grabbed the door as he slid into the driver-side, and she did the same, closing the door behind them. They drove down through the narrows on their way to the hangar outside Charles de Gaulle International Airport and raced through the security gate as they pulled up to the hangar. 

They hopped on the private aircraft and flew to Kato Antikeri Island, an hour later they descended onto the private landing strip, as Leslie glanced out the window at the island, and at the towering spiralling skyscraper. Callan and Leslie stepped off the plane and made their way over to the organization. She tensed as she wondered why this organization would be on the island. From what she could see, it was guarded with armed men and snipers.