Pagan Island, Pacific Ocean

A few weeks later, they were still laughing about the predicament the drug cartel members found themselves in. Well, Max did put a few surveillance cameras on Diego Garcia’s new island resort, so they had front row seats for the entire show. Anna even made some intro-graphics that informed everyone that they were watching Survivor: drug cartel edition. The show was broadcasted to everyone on the island, and Elizabeth made popcorn when the team gathered to watch the first episode.

It was not easy to organize the whole thing, moving most of the cartel members, transporting the heroin, even buying a book (and a conch), at one of the tropical resorts on the way. For all that, the final results were worth it; as Al said, “no reality television show has ever been so real.” There was even a gag reel, featuring a drug dealer trying to start a fire by rubbing two pieces of wet wood together, or two adventurous but inadequate fishermen who almost got eaten by the sharks. The funniest of all was one of Diego Garcia’s lieutenants, who suffered from arachnophobia… on the spider-infested island. He quickly got the nickname ‘The twitcher’. The show was becoming the most popular entertaining program of the island’s residents; Max even made half an hour episodes that ran in the morning with the most interesting happenings of the previous day.

Michael would not have lost any sleep if they had gone with the lethal option while dealing with the cartel, but this experiment started with an idea to see if people could truly change if placed in a completely different environment, one where their habits and violent behavior were a liability. The idea was Max’s, working with some psychologists on the island; Michael didn’t mind it so much, and the show was entertaining.

Dr. Williams got an idea for the Islanders to have a party; it would be a way for all people to socialize and get to know each other a little better. Considering that they were under a lot of pressure lately, a party was a good way to relieve some tension. It was well-received by everybody and the decision was made to have it on the beach since they were on a tropical island. The Luau received the most votes in the digital voting pool, so Max made some party supplies. Hula skirts, leis, party torches, paper lanterns, and other necessities were only the beginning. Two transporters were sent to Hawaii for drinks and food; it is always better to make things authentic, even if it took an almost 8000-mile round-trip to do so.

With so many people helping, it was an easy party to organize and that day had a festive atmosphere, full of laughter and fun. It was also the night in which Michael danced more than any other time before, and the pure happiness on Elizabeth's face made the entire effort more than worthwhile.

One of the most surprising things was that Dr. Emma Williams spent the entire evening in Tyron’s company, with Zizi riding his shoulders; Michael did not see that one coming, but he was happy for the big guy. Tyron’s mother, who was one of the recent expatriates on the island, together with Tyron’s brother, was sitting on the side with a group of women and was smiling proudly at her son and the girl who occupied his attention.

Dave, Jack, and Robert Freeman arrived at the island for the party and were assembled around one of the bonfires, while taking part in a lively discussion about who was the best baseball player of all time. Michael thought that it was a small wonder that all of them remembered so many statistics, considering the amount of beer they consumed.

He looked around him and could see hundreds of faces of all races and cultures, enjoying the party and having a good time. And all this started by him explaining to Max an idea of something different; if this night was any indication, they had a chance to build something unique.

The party lasted deep into the night, but Elizabeth dragged him to their room sooner than that. As he was falling asleep, Michael checked one of the external cameras through his CEI and saw that the shindig was still going strong.

***

Spaceship Excalibur

Destination: Ozark Mountains

Michael didn’t need to come on this trip, it was an unnecessary risk even; yet, he still wanted to visit the old place one more time. After Ziad the assassin destroyed his family cabin, there was nothing material there to come back to. Even so, it was the place itself, the location where he spent a big part of his life.

Max reported that the last traces of the gold from the mountain stream were collected; there was not an ounce to be found anywhere. He had stored it all in a cavity the Excalibur was trapped in for so long. There was no rush, but he wanted to bring it to the ship. Overall, it was ten million dollars’ worth of gold, and while that sum would have been astronomical to Michael before his life changed, now it was no more than a number. He could not remember the last time he spent money on anything, which was weird when he thought about it.

Tyron, Pete, and Al were accompanying him on this trip. Plus, Tyron was always good to have at one’s side, especially when there was heavy lifting involved.

“It would seem that we have visitors,” Max said while they were still halfway there.

“Oh, and I’m guessing it’s not a mailman,” Michael replied.

“Only if the U.S. Postal Service decided to bring an RV on the property, and camouflaged it in the forest. Additionally, there six soldiers concealed around the cabin’s remains.”

The holo-screen on the Excalibur’s bridge changed to an image captured by one of the satellites. At first, there was nothing to see, but when Max changed it to thermal; they could easily discern six hidden soldiers and the additional two sitting in the truck.

“Now, I would call that trespassing,” Al said. “Ain't there laws against it?”

“I don’t think these people are concerned about the law,” Michael replied. “They consider themselves above it. What about the place where the ship was buried?”

The image changed to a different location, and they could not see any heat sources nearby.

“No, just around the cabin; and I haven’t put a satellite above it for a while now, there was no point anymore. The trail you made from it towards the entrance shaft has been disguised, so they couldn’t follow it,” the AI said.

To be sure, they left the Excalibur two miles away from the entrance shaft, and under full camouflage continued to their target.

“It would be a shame to come this close to our guests and not at least check who they are,” Michael said and quickly continued when he saw Tyron’s head moving from side to side. “And Tyron is always nagging us to practice our skills in real life.”

He could practically sense the look the big man sent his way, even if he couldn’t see it with his eyes.

“Fine, but we will make it observation-only, without being noticed.” Even using his comms, Tyron’s voice sounded like a deep bass.

With their enhanced speed, it didn’t take them long to come closer to the visitors; six people in ghillie suits were waiting in ambush for anyone that would come up the road. It seemed that they were at it for a long time as they were noticeably bored. One of them even had an e-reader in front of him, killing time as best as he could.

“What do you think?” Al asked over the comms.

“I’ll bet they are mercenaries since they are far too relaxed for special ops,” Michael replied.

It took them five more minutes to approach a big armored RV, painted in camouflage colors and parked a mile away from the cabin, in a nearby forest. Max used their proximity to the RV and hacked into its systems; in no time, they had a live feed from several cameras around the property and even one from the laptop that was inside the vehicle.

“I am getting sick of this mission, we are only wasting time.” One of the two men inside said.

“What are you complaining about? We are getting full pay for chilling in the woods. Admittedly, the chances of our target appearing here after all this time are almost nonexistent. But so what if he doesn't? Would you rather be in some shit-hole, where the locals are doing their best to off you?” The second man responded.

“No, I guess not. But the boredom is killing me, the men are slacking off, and I can’t even say anything about it to them, because I am doing the same.”

“Count your blessings; this is the most peaceful mission of my life, simply think of it as a holiday.”

“Yeah, I get that, but wouldn’t it be sweet to neutralize the target; twenty million dollars for one man… that is crazy.”

“Keep dreaming, we are not that lucky.”

Their conversation continued for some time, but Michael and his team had heard enough. Not making any sound, they returned back the same way they came.

When he was directly behind his grandfather’s cabin, Michael paused near the unusually big tree which dominated its surroundings. He approached it and placed his hand on its bark. A long time ago, a list of names was carved on the surface, and he read them inside his head. It was the names of his family, his grandfather, grandmother, father, mother, and in the end, his own. This was the tree his grandfather chose long ago to be a testament to people who were part of this piece of land. Now, he was leaving it, not sure if he would ever return.

He took out his knife, and carefully carved another name underneath his. Giving it one last look, Michael turned around and followed the rest of his team. The tree remained, with a new name on its bark… Max.

Half an hour later they were in the Excalibur again, flying towards the Pagan Island. The gold they collected on the way back was placed closer to the airlock, waiting to be transported off the ship, once they landed.

“So, twenty million for your head boss, that’s impressive,” Al said.

“Actually, considering the amount of damage we caused to some powerful people and certain organizations… I feel a bit undervalued.”

“Well, we will try harder in the future; maybe they will raise the price.” Al smiled and quickly ducked his head.

Tyron looked at him with a small smirk on his face.

“I made a pass with surveillance drones, and there are similar setups close to our last apartment Michael. It would seem they want you badly,” the AI informed him.

“What can you do, if everything goes according to plan, soon we will be too far away for them to reach us,” Michael said and closed his eyes. He could at least catch some Z’s before they reached their destination.

***

Russia, Moscow

Ministry of Education and Science of the Russian Federation

Alex Peters, or Alexi Petrov, the name under which he was known in this country, hated his job with a vengeance. His life was not supposed to turn out this way; everything he dreamed about was now like ashes in his mouth. He was a young idiot when he joined the CIA, believing his life would be like that of James Bond. Beautiful women, fast cars, and full of international crises, which he would then solve by himself. None of those dreams came true. Okay, the reason for that may have been his fault; maybe he was in the wrong when he slept with the wife of his director. Then again, as he tried to explain to the infuriated husband, he was just practicing seduction techniques to advance his spycraft; for some reason, the man was not amused one bit.

He finally got the assignment abroad he wanted all along, so he could truly say that he was a bonafide spy. And that meant absolutely nothing; for the past five years, he was a clerk in the Russian Ministry of Education and Science, filing papers and being bored out of his mind. It took a few years for him to realize that this was the director’s revenge. Assigning him the most boring position any spy could ever think of. He even started drinking Vodka in excessive amounts and was hooked on a few soap operas, which were slowly conquering this nation. The spare tire he was sporting, he justified as a necessary prop that helped him blend in with his colleagues at the Ministry, although deep inside he knew that was a feeble excuse.

Today was the day as any other, he was sorting through the large pile of letters that were sent to the ministry, and his job was to read every single one of them. In case some important snippet of usable information was contained inside, even if he had zero luck in the last five years. Still, a job was a job, and he had to pay this month’s rent. The life of a government employee in Russia was nothing to brag about.

Alexi almost threw the last letter he was reading into the trash pile when one thing caught his eye. A name, which has in recent months become the holy grail within the intelligence community. And in his hands, he had the first tangible lead to the elusive individual that was making intelligence agencies positively mad because they could not find him. He thought that if this much attention was focused on finding Jimmy Hoffa's body, they would have solved the mystery months ago.

He quickly read the letter once again and carefully folded the precious paper, before placing it inside of his jacket pocket. This was his golden ticket, a once in a lifetime opportunity he had no intention to waste. Forget those bozos in the CIA or the fools in the Ministry; Alex Peters was not an idiot. If he played his cards right and sold this info to all interested parties, in a short time, he could make millions. He had all the right contacts and knew how the game was played. He picked up his stuff and went outside, claiming he was coming down with a cold and was taking the day off. Of course, he would return tomorrow for work, there was no reason to break his cover. Except, by that time, he would be a very rich man.

***

Washington, D.C.

Number One Observatory Circle

(Official Residence Of The Vice President)

Vice President Cain could not believe the information he was holding in his hands. For months now, he had people stationed at every single location Michael Freeman was known to visit in the past. From his apartment, ex-girlfriends, even the place he worked at before disappearing. All for nothing, the man was simply nowhere to be found. Now, with this letter, so many things could be explained; yet, he was still skeptical about the details it contained.

The information came in the form of a letter sent to the Russian Ministry of Education and Science, by snail mail of all things. Like thousands of others, it would have been filed under a raving of a lunatic if it was not for one important part—the name mentioned inside was Michael Freeman. Some enterprising individual has understood the importance of it and sold it to one of his agents. He authorized two million dollars the seller was asking, without a second thought. That was only money, but if this information proved to be true, it was money well spent.

Unfortunately, he knew that the letter had been copied; already there was chatter on some high levels about its contents. When the people on the decision-making level learned about it, all bets would be off. Still, if he acted as fast as he could, he could snatch the prize before the others.

The letter was written on several pages, and he was reading the English translation from the original Russian in which it was written.

A certain Dr. Nikolov had a lot to say about the man they were hunting; all sorts of fantastic claims and some naive statements of how humanity could be unified in some sort of technological utopia. He was clearly deranged, but that did not mean that the information he provided was not true. It explained perfectly why the subject of their search was so difficult to find, and how he could do all the impossible things to date. If everything proved true, it would be a winner takes all race since the prize was a technological El Dorado. Nations have been destroyed for far less.

There was also a claim of an actual sapient AI in his nemesis control, which would explain their persistent inability to shut down the bounty sites, and all the difficulties techs had in locating digital trails.

He would usually be more skeptical, but long months of no intelligence were getting to him, he was willing to throw caution to the winds and play his cards. The AI would be a big problem if he did not have a cure for such a beast; a black project he approved almost a decade ago, and now he was ready to reap the benefits of it.

He had already ordered a surveillance drone to make a flyover at the provided coordinates, so it would not be long before he was sure of the letter’s validity. Just a little while longer, and he will get his rightful revenge.

For the first time in a long while, Philip Cain smiled.