The Steel Orchid

Chapter 10: April 30th

Bianca stared at the dossier from the facility, pulse pounding in her ears. Surveillance photos of Rick Kane meeting with known arms dealers in Moscow. Financial records indicating payments to offshore accounts. Her mentor, the man who'd taught her everything, was involved in this twisted nuclear weapons scheme.

"No. It can't be," she whispered.

Bianca leapt up, sending her chair crashing to the floor. She paced the cramped safehouse, fists clenched. Kane had warned her about rot within the agency, but never hinted he was part of it.

Tires screeched outside followed by echoed shouts. Damn! She must have been followed back. She peered out the window and watched as two fire teams of ruthless men dressed in black stormed the bottom floor armed with assault weapons.

The safehouse door splintered open under heavy boots. No time to think about Rick now. Bianca grabbed her Glock and took cover behind the battered sofa. She'd survived ambushes before. This time, failure meant nuclear apocalypse.

The first man through the door caught two bullets center mass. The second swung his AK-47 toward Bianca. She dove and rolled, squeezing off three rapid shots. The attacker slumped to the ground.

Bianca inched toward the door, gun ready. More footsteps from the stairwell. The first two must have been scouts. Think quick.

She scrambled out of the apartment leaving the proof she fought so hard for on the table and slammed her good shoulder into the empty apartment door across the hall. Better to live than to die over photos.

She inhaled the room’s dust deep into her lungs forcing her feet towards the fire escape. No they’ll be waiting, chances are she's already surrounded.

She followed the fire escape up to the roof of the eight story apartment building and jumped onto the roof of the neighboring building.

She slipped, tilted sideways, and fell. She landed in a tumble of arms twisted just right to break her fall. Boulders tumbled around her as she stood up. “Damn, bad luck.”

Flashlights swaying in the sky and aggressive Russian voices vibrating the wind behind her.

She jumped into the garbage chute, slid down to the bottom, and began crawling from waste receptacle to waste receptacle. Stale pretzels moldered on top of rotting apples and stale tuna fish. The smell was strong in her nostrils, but she couldn't stop moving.

The alley here was clear. Sirens wailed in the distance. Time to move.

She had to confront Rick. Make him explain the photos, the payments. He was her mentor, damn it! He couldn't be part of this insanity. Could he? Doubt gnawed at her as she slipped into the night. The only way forward was through Rick. No matter where that path led.

Bianca hotwired an old Lada and sped through the city streets. She had to get to Rick before the KGB tracked her down.

As she drove, doubt and anger warred within her. Kane had been like a father. He'd taught her to shoot, to fight, to think strategically. She owed him her life a dozen times over.

But the evidence was damning. Rick's face in those photos, his name on the bank accounts. He'd clearly been involved in this twisted scheme, at least for a time. But why? What could have made him betray everything they stood for?

Bianca's hands tightened on the wheel. She had no choice but to confront him. She needed the truth, no matter how painful. If Kane really had gone rogue, she'd take him down, mentor or not. The mission came first.

Tires screeching, she pulled up outside Rick's cabin. It was nearly dawn, just a hint of light on the horizon. She drew her gun and approached silently. The door was ajar. Strange. Kane knew better than that.

With one swift kick she burst inside, sweeping the room with her pistol. No one. The place was empty. Signs of a struggle were everywhere - the overturned table, the smashed lamp. Blood spatters on the floor.

"Damn it, Rick," Bianca whispered. One thing was clear. Someone had gotten to Kane first. She was running out of time. Gripping her gun, she set her jaw. She'd find Rick, get the truth from him. And God help anyone who got in her way.

Bianca moved swiftly through the ransacked safehouse, scouring for clues. Whoever took Kane was professional. No fingerprints, no stray hairs or fibers. But they'd been sloppy about one thing - the blood.

She crouched down, examining the spatters. The pattern indicated a head wound, blunt force rather than a bullet. Kane had put up a fight, but ultimately been overpowered. Bianca felt a swell of pride for her mentor. Even outnumbered, he would never go down easy.

Footsteps sounded outside. Bianca melted into the shadows, gun raised. A figure appeared in the doorway.

"Rick?" Bianca whispered.

Kane stumbled inside, one hand pressed to a gash on his temple. His shirt was torn and bloodied. But his eyes were alert, flickering around the room.

Bianca rushed over, supporting him. "What happened? Who did this?"

Rick sank onto the couch with a grimace. "Colleagues at Langley. Seems they got wind of my extracurricular activities."

Bianca's stomach twisted. The CIA had sanctioned this?

"Why, Rick?" she asked quietly. "Why get mixed up with the Russians?"

Kane sighed, his shoulders slumping. "It started as an undercover op. Infiltrate the smuggling ring, feed intel back to Langley. But somewhere along the way, things got complicated."

He met her eyes, shame written on his face. "Money changed hands. Favors were traded. Next thing I knew, I was just as dirty as the rest. CIA provided the funding, KGB produced the materials and Dr. Yuri had the brains. To build the weapons. First, they were only intended for our mutual enemies…then something happened."

Bianca listened in pained silence. This was worse than she'd imagined.

"The CIA got a whiff that the KGB was going to use the weapons on American soil. That’s when they assigned you the case and everything’s been going downhill from there. I'm sorry, B," Rick said gruffly. "You deserved better from me."

She studied the man who'd been like a father. He was flawed, human. But still the mentor she trusted with her life.

"It's not too late to make this right," she said firmly. "We finish the mission. Expose the knavery. No more secrets."

Rick managed a faint smile. "You always were the best of us."

Bianca felt her remedy harden. The CIA had gone rogue, humiliated them both. Now it was time to bring the whole rotten edifice down.

Rick nodded slowly. "Alright. Where do we start?"

Bianca began pacing, thoughts racing. "We have evidence, we need something to connect everything together. You said the CIA got a tip. That’s where we start. Proof of who's involved, how high this goes. My contact at the Moscow station hinted at a classified file server."

She turned to Rick. "Think your old friends could get us access?"

Rick stroked his chin. "Possibly. But that facility will be heavily guarded."

Bianca crossed her arms. "I can handle myself."

"I know you can," Rick said. "But we'll need help to get in and out cleanly. And someone who can c***k that server."

Bianca contemplated this. Who could she trust? Most of her colleagues were suspect. Except...

"Alicia," she said. "She's got no love for the higher-ups. And she's one of the best hackers I've seen."

Rick nodded approvingly. "Good thinking. I'll put some feelers out, see who else might join us. This won't be easy, B. But it's the right thing to do."

Bianca felt the weight of what they were attempting. But she had to see this through.

"Let's get to work," she said. "We've got an agency to dismantle."

Bianca's mind raced as she and Rick planned their next moves. She knew taking down corrupt CIA officials would be the fight of their lives. But it had to be done.

"Okay, first things first," she said, turning to Rick. "We need to get Alicia on board without raising suspicion with my team. I'll reach out, make it seem like a routine op. I’ll get Markov too. Can’t trust Sarah or David right now."

Rick nodded. "Good idea. I'll contact some old associates, see who can help us with logistics and access codes. We'll need transportation, weapons, comms..."

He trailed off, brow furrowed in thought. This wasn't just another mission. If they succeeded, the CIA would be shaken to its core.

Bianca placed a hand on Rick's shoulder. "I know it's a lot. But we can do this."

Rick patted her hand, settle returning to his eyes. "You're right. Let's just take it one step at a time."

Bianca began mentally reviewing the corrupt CIA officials' profiles, searching for weaknesses. "Once we're in, we'll have to move fast. Grab the evidence and transmit it before they detect us."

"Right. We'll also need a different safehouse, a way to release the intel," Rick said.

Bianca nodded. She paused, looking Rick in the eye. "Thank you for this. For believing in me."

Rick smiled. "Of course. Like I said, you were always the best of us."

Bianca returned a small smile, then steeled herself. Time to tear down the rot at the agency's core. She and Rick had work to do.

***

Bianca strode purposefully down the dim hallway, her footsteps echoing off the concrete walls. Despite the late hour, her mind was sharp and focused. The conversation with Rick had reignited the fire within her.

For too long, she'd watched powerful men abuse their power. Rick's confession had been the last straw. She was done playing by the rules. It was time for action.

Bianca visualized her objectives. Bring down those responsible for the nuclear weapons operation. Expose their misdeeds to the world. Restore integrity to the agency.

She ticked through the steps in her head. Gain access to the classified intel. Leak it anonymously. Let justice take its course.

Bianca knew it wouldn't be easy. These men had endless resources and little regard for life. But she had something more powerful - truth.

As she reached the end of the hall, Bianca paused at a thick metal door. She entered a code in the keypad and it swung open with a groan, revealing the agency's underground garage.

Row after row of nondescript sedans waited silently in the dark. Soon one of them would carry her to a rendezvous with Rick. But only after the next step.

Bianca allowed herself a slight smile. She was ready. Someone’s days were numbered. And she would be the one to end them.

Her heels clicked decisively as she strode towards the vehicles. The echoing sound was a harbinger of the coming storm.