The Cain Directive Page 5

  “Did you open it?”

  “No. He said don’t open it until you hear from me again or if something happens.”

  “Do you have it?”

  “It’s in my backpack,” Falk stated.

  “As soon as we stop somewhere we’ll take a look at it,” Cain responded.

  “Where to, my friend?” Patel asked.

  “I’m not sure. We have to hold up somewhere for a day or two. They’re gonna hit surveillance cameras at buses, trains, planes, and be on the lookout for hotels probably too.”

  “I think I know of a spot,” Patel revealed.

  “Go ahead,” Cain replied.

  “It’s a small motel on the other side of the border, in Jersey. It’s a little shady, a lot of people use it for drug transactions and prostitutes and things like that, but I don’t think it’s a spot they’d look for you at.”

  “Sounds good. Seems perfect. Can you take us there?” Cain asked.

  “Of course. It will take us about an hour to get there,” Patel told them.

  “So what are we gonna do?” Falk turned to ask Cain. “We can’t stay at some cheap hotel forever.”

  “We’ll open up the envelope and see what kind of information Heyward had. Then we’ll go from there.”

  Cain kept looking out the window, his eyes focused on the road for any signs of problems. Every now and then his mind wandered to thoughts of Heather. He hoped she was making out OK. He figured she was safe, for a little while at least. Cain assumed they’d leave her be for the time being, that he was their main priority. But it occurred to him that if they were unsuccessful in finding him after a few days or a week that they may turn their attention towards her. If she was staying with her sister it wouldn’t be a hard thing for Sanders to trace. They could either try to use her as bait to lure him out into the open or extract any information from her that they could. Or they could just eliminate her. In any scenario that played through Cain’s head, he knew he was going to have to get her relatively soon. She wasn’t going to be able to fend off the agency alone or stay ahead of them without help.

  After an hour of straight driving, they finally reached their destination. The motel looked pretty much like Patel had described it. There was some graffiti on a wall, a broken bench in front, and a sign that was partially off and hanging down. It did look a little better in the daytime though. It was a small motel that housed sixteen rooms. Cain and Falk bid their friendly taxi driver goodbye as the went to the office to rent a room. Cain checked in under an alias and used the name Jerry Anderson.

  “Couldn’t have used something original like Smith or Jones?” Falk teased.

  “I strive to be different,” Cain replied.

  The pair went to their room and Cain immediately locked the door and closed the windows and curtains. Falk put his backpack on a small round table near the wall and pulled out the envelope he got from Heyward. Falk opened it and split the papers in half for each of them to read. They each eagerly read the documents, fascinated by the information contained in it.

  “Wow. This is really good stuff,” Falk stated after five minutes of reading.

  Cain could tell Falk read something that either bothered him or was really interesting as he kept shifting positions. Falk was making faces and squirming in his seat, leading Cain to believe he found something disturbing. Falk looked up at Cain briefly before going back to reading, but it was tough for him to keep concentrating without telling Cain what it was. He wasn’t sure the best way to tell Cain about it so he just decided to let him read it for himself.

  “You might want to take a look at this,” Falk said, handing the papers to Cain.

  Cain hesitated before taking them. He looked at the papers and then Falk. “What’s in it?” Cain asked.

  “It’s probably better if you read it for yourself.”

  Cain took his advice and started reading, though he wasn’t looking forward to whatever it was Falk was referring to. He assumed it was something bad that he’d probably wished he hadn’t read. He finished reading the first page without anything jumping out at him and then turned it over to move on to the next page. There it was. The entire history that the agency had on him. He read it quickly, wanting to see everything at a moment’s notice while still trying to slow down and decipher what it was saying. Cain felt a mix of happiness, sadness, anger, and rage all at the same time. While it felt good to finally know the truth about his past he was beyond enraged at the fact the agency had been deceiving him the entire time he’d been with them. Instead of helping him with his memory loss and remembering his past, they contributed to trying to destroy it. With each line read, his eyes widened, his fists clinched, and his jaw tightened. Falk watched as Cain read the information about himself and saw the anger boiling over. While he assumed Cain was a good man, since he was helping him, he felt sorry for what the Specter Project had done to him, Falk could see that he was a man that you got out of the way from when he was angry. Cain reread the pages on himself a few times, letting it sink in, getting angrier each time he read it. He focused in on one part:

  Name: Matthew Cain

  Also known as: Thomas Nelson

  Real name: Justin Clifford

  Family: Wife, Deanna; Son, Justin Jr.

  He could hardly believe what he was reading. All along he’d been told he had no family. Nobody at home to help him overcome his memory loss when he was shot in the head. It was the only reason he agreed to join the agency to begin with. He had no other options. Now he knew it was all a lie. Not everything, as they were truthful about his parents being killed when he graduated high school, leading him to join the military. He had no brothers or sisters as he’d been told. But it was right there in black and white. He was married with a son. And Nelson wasn’t even his real name either. Sanders even fabricated his real name. Cain knew he probably never would’ve been able to uncover all of this on his own. He thought of Heyward’s demise and felt a sense of sorrow for him, while still being thankful and appreciative of what he’d done for him.

  “I’m uhh, sorry for what you’ve been through,” Falk said.

  “Thanks. We don’t have time for that though,” Cain responded, trying not to seem depressed over it. “Now we need to figure out how to bring them down while staying alive.”

  “Well, with all of this I can write a story and submit it. Might take a few days.”

  “We don’t have that kind of time. We need to fax this to members of the media, Congress, the Senate, that will ensure our survival.”

  “But that would kill my story. This is my chance to make a name for myself,” Falk objected.

  “You won’t have a story if you’re dead,” Cain told him.

  “Just give me two days. Just two days.”

  Though it was against his better judgment, Cain agreed to give Falk two days even though it might mean their lives. Cain pulled out the phone Raines had given him and wondered how untraceable it really was. He was about to find out.

  “Who are you calling?” Falk asked, seeing Cain dial a number.

  “Ed Sanders.”

  “What? Umm, is that the same Ed Sanders that I’m reading about in here?” Falk nervously asked.

  “I don’t know any others.”

  “Are you crazy?” Falk asked, getting a cold stare from Cain in response. “Well, what I mean is, won’t he trace the call? I mean, I’m obviously not as up to date on all this spy stuff as you but it seems like that would be common practice.”

  “The phone’s not traceable,” Cain told him.

  “Oh.”

  “Satisfied?” Cain sarcastically asked.

  “If you had that phone the whole time, how come you had to use mine to call the cab?”

  “Forgot about it,” Cain replied with a shrug.

  “I think it’s still risky.”

  “Riskier than giving you two days?”

  “Point taken,” Falk replied, going back to the documents. “Don’t mind me; I’ll just keep going over th
is stuff. Just pretend I’m not here.”

  “Already have.”

  Calling Sanders again probably wasn’t the smartest thing to do, even if the phone wasn’t traceable. Though he wasn’t totally positive it couldn’t be traced, he only had Raines’ word for it, he was prepared for the consequences if it wasn’t. Cain was still seething about what Sanders had done to him, and took away from him, and he wanted him to know he now knew the truth. He hesitated before pushing the call button, making sure it was really what he wanted to do. He only paused for a couple seconds though before finally pushing the button. He anxiously waited for Sanders to pick up as it rang for the third time. Cain wasn’t sure what he was going to say but figured his anger would take over.

  “Hello?” Sanders answered, wary of who was on the other end of the line. It came up as a private number, which always made him uneasy when he didn’t know who it was.

  “Justin Clifford,” Cain calmly stated.

  “I see you’ve been busy,” Sanders replied, snapping his fingers at an analyst to get the call traced.

  “My real name is Justin Clifford. I had a wife and a son you son of a bitch,” Cain angrily said.

  “Let’s not get irrational. Why don’t you come in and we can talk about it nice and calm.”

  “I had a family and you took that away from me!”

  “To them you were already dead. What kind of life would you have had with a family you couldn’t remember?”

  “They could’ve helped me remember! Why me? Why choose me?”

  “Because you were a perfect candidate. You had a significant injury, you couldn’t remember a thing, and were unlikely to ever remember. You still wouldn’t know, and never would, if not for whatever Heyward gave you,” Sanders responded. “I needed agents. You were an elite trained soldier that didn’t remember his past. I couldn’t have asked for a better or more ideal situation. You still remembered your skills which meant training time was very little.”

  “If I could reach through this phone right now I would strangle the life right out of you,” Cain threatened.

  “I know you would. It’s the little details that make you who you are. One of the things I love about you is that you don’t make idle threats.”

  “If it’s the last thing I do, I’m gonna make you pay for what you’ve done to me.”

  “You may think I took your life away but that’s not true. I gave you a life,” Sanders explained. “I gave you a job. I gave you money. I gave you an apartment. You wound up with a girlfriend. What do you think you would’ve had if you just went back home?”

  “A family that loved me,” Cain replied.

  “You would’ve had nothing. No money, no job, and a family that would’ve been frustrated that you couldn’t even recognize them which would’ve eventually lead to a divorce. It seems to me like I saved you a lot of heartache.”

  “You’ve got a lot of gall.”

  “I didn’t get to my position by being soft. I make hard decisions that can impact a lot of lives. I do what’s best for this agency and this country. That’s the only thing that matters,” Sanders said. “If some people get hurt along the way, well, that’s just the way it goes.”

  “How many other people have you done this to?” Cain wondered.

  “That’s irrelevant. You were a special case.”

  Sanders looked over to the analyst and threw his arms up, wondering how they were making out with the trace. The analyst replied with a shake of his head and a painful looking expression, letting Sanders know they were having a hard time.

  “So how are we going to solve this little problem we have here?” Sanders asked.

  “How bout you stand in the middle of Times Square and I’ll blow your head off? I think that’d solve everything.”

  “Well, outside of that there are some things that may sway your opinion.”

  “Nothing could change my opinion,” Cain told him.

  “I wouldn’t be so sure of that. I know you’ve got some files you shouldn’t have and I know you’ve got a reporter with you.”

  “I don’t see the problem.”

  “The problem is that I’m sure you’re probably planning on doing something stupid with that information and reporter. I’m sure you’re equally aware that I’m not gonna let that happen.”

  “That’s your problem,” Cain said.

  “No, it’s yours. But just to show you there’s no hard feelings between us I’m gonna give you an out.”

  “You’re gonna give me an out?”

  “If you go down the road you’re on I can promise you that you and everyone with you is as good as dead. You, the reporter, Heather, and anyone else you may come into contact with.”

  “And the alternative?” Cain asked.

  “You kill the reporter for us and come in and we’ll forget about this matter,” Sanders informed him. “You and I can sit down like men and talk about this and decide where to go from here. If you want to be mad at me or angry with what I’ve done, that’s fine. Whether you want to continue with us, try to go back to your family, I’ll support you and help you in whatever decision you come to.”

  “So I just kill him and everything’s good?”

  “You know it’s the only way. I will not allow anyone to bring this agency down,” Sanders said. “No matter what the cost.”

  Cain looked over at Falk and hesitated before answering.

  “C’mon, Cain, it’s your only option,” Sanders stated.

  “Not my only option.”

  “What else can you do?”

  “I can’t do that. I won’t sacrifice the life of someone else just to save my own,” Cain told him.

  “Cain, think about what you’re saying.”

  “I have. The only way you’re getting to him is if you go through me first.”

  “If that’s the way you want it.”

  “And you can tell them to stop tracing the call, it won’t work,” Cain said before hanging up.

  “Anything?” Sanders asked his team.

  “It’s a very sophisticated blocking system he was using,” an analyst replied.

  “So you’ve got nothing?”

  “He could be in any of fifty different places.”

  “In New York?”

  “In the entire country.”

  “Damn.”

  Cain put his phone down and sat down on the edge of the bed and started thinking. Falk could tell Cain had a lot weighing on him.

  “Didn’t sound like a very pleasant conversation,” Falk stated.

  “Never had one with him that was.”

  “So did he say anything that might help in some way?”

  “He told me I could have an out if I wanted it,” Cain said.

  “Really? Really? Well what would you have to do for that?”

  “Just kill you.”

  “Oh. You’re umm, you’re not gonna do that right?” Falk asked.

  Cain just rolled his eyes. “Just hurry up and finish your story.”

  Chapter 5

  Heather was nervous. It’d been several years since she’d seen or talked to her sister. They stayed in touch by sending each other birthday and Christmas cards, but that was the extent of their dealings with each other. Cassie didn’t approve of the choices Heather made involving her work, and most of the people she associated with. At the same time, Heather wasn’t thrilled with Cassie’s choice of men, or that she stayed pretty close with their father. Heather took a cab to Cassie’s place, a small ranch house located in Rochester. She got out of the cab, a backpack slung over her shoulder, and stood across the street. Her feet felt like they were glued to the concrete sidewalk as she stared at her sister’s house. She was nervous and anxious at what Cassie would say or do once she saw her. It had been a long time. Maybe too much time had passed for them to overcome the differences they had. Heather mostly just hoped that her sister wouldn’t close the door in her face and would give her a few minutes of her time.

  After a few minutes,
Heather finally was able to move her legs. She walked across the street and up the driveway. She took a deep sigh before she knocked on the door. It was a half hearted knock, without a lot of force behind it. It was almost like she didn’t want Cassie to hear it and answer. Heather looked around nervously as she heard someone coming to the door. The door swung open, Cassie standing there with her jaw dropped, surprised at her sister’s appearance.

  “Hey,” Heather sheepishly said.

  “Hey. What are you doing here?”

  “Umm, can’t a girl just drop in on her sister to say hi?”

  “Uhh, yeah, sure. Do you wanna come in?” Cassie asked.

  “Sure.”

  A baby started crying in the background and Cassie quickly rushed into the kitchen. Heather was taken a little offguard. She followed her sister into the kitchen and saw a baby sitting there in a high chair. Cassie had never mentioned anything about a baby in any of her cards. Not that they really divulged much about their lives to each other, but that seemed important enough to at least mention.

  “Is she yours?” Heather asked.

  “Yeah,” Cassie replied, picking her daughter up. “This is Emma. She’s eight months old.”

  “Oh my God. She’s beautiful. How come you never mentioned her before?”

  “I don’t know. Just didn’t seem like something you just reveal in a greeting card.”

  “So where’s David?” Heather asked of Cassie’s boyfriend.

  “He’s not here.”

  “Is he at work?”

  “I don’t know. He left me two months ago,” Cassie revealed.

  “Oh, I’m so sorry.”

  “Yeah. Me too. Being a father didn’t seem to fit his plans so he ran off with some Hooters waitress.”

  “How could anyone not wanna be around something so precious as this?” Heather asked, stroking Emma’s blonde hair.