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The strong, salty wind ruffled his hair, and the cold was seeping deeper and deeper into his bones, yet Leon preferred to linger a little longer on the outer deck of the ferry that was taking him from Holyhead in Wales to Dublin. His stomach first had to get used to the conditions at sea, and he was generally the kind of person who always wanted to keep an eye on his surroundings.
“Hey Leon… how does it feel to take things a little easier in your old age?”
Leon pressed his cell phone a little tighter against his ear, and a barely perceptible smile appeared on his lips as he heard Sherry’s voice.
“I’ll tell you this, when I’ve reached my 5-star hotel in Dublin, sitting at the bar like a true government agent in a suit that’s way too expensive and way too tight, sipping my shaken or stirred margarita…”
“You mean martini… and knowing you, you’ll end up staying at a run of the mill motel anyway.”
The smile widened and he shrugged slightly; Sherry knew him, she might even know him best of all by now.
“I think you want information, so I’ll keep this as brief as possible. I met an informant in Germany, unfortunately, what he said sounded pretty alarming and plausible. I assume we’re no longer dealing with rumors here, but I’m looking into it. I’ve received a very specific tip and will be taking a closer look at the Port of Dublin… as soon as I find out more, I’ll get back to you. It’s important that no one else gets involved… I don’t need any more agents messing up my operation right now.”
Sherry jotted down a few key points, she would stick to them and try to steer Leon a little out of the government’s crosshairs, he deserved a break… even if no one could dissuade him from following up on a simple lead to get back to work. Leon needed his work… he was used to it, and just because they’d managed to achieve a sort of happy ending didn’t mean the world was sleeping. At least this time he wasn’t dealing with infected people and viruses… but prolly with alleged smugglers smuggling alleged biochemical material intended for the production of bioweapons. In a way, it was almost sad that this mission felt like a little outing to Leon, didn’t it?
“Got it, Leon, thanks. Take care of yourself.”
He didn’t reply, just smiled and shook his head. The crossing took about four hours, and Dublin’s harbor was already in sight.
“I hate ships…”
he muttered to himself as he made his way into the belly of the ferry and spent the rest of the time in a rental car, a plain Range Rover, until the gates opened and the cars moved ashore like a slow-moving avalanche. He would have loved to inspect the harbor immediately, to get started right away, but if his informant was right, he had to prepare first, choose the cover of night, and proceed methodically.
Sherry was right; he had indeed chosen a rather unassuming hotel, one that wasn’t particularly crowded, a bit off the beaten path but still close to the harbor. An affordable place to stay... nothing special, but sufficient for him. It didn’t take long before he parked his car in front of that very hotel, checked in under his alias, and spent the rest of the day making a plan, checking his technical gadgets, and generally getting ready.
The information Leon had received from official sources was scant, almost frustratingly vague. The mission itself hadn’t come directly from a single government, but was part of a joint initiative between the BSAA and a covert European task force under Europol’s supervision. There was talk of a rumor, a possible network spanning several European ports, allegedly specializing in the smuggling of biochemical materials. None of it was confirmed, nothing tangible. And yet there were enough overlaps in the reports to prevent him from simply dismissing the matter. He had begun his investigation in Germany, where an informant had first given him the feeling that there was more to all this than just loose speculation. The details had been fragmentary but clear enough to make Leon sit up and take notice. In London, this picture had become clearer, no clear names of the masterminds, but indications that several ports were involved. All of this had eventually led him to Dublin. Here, so they said, something tangible was supposed to show up for the first time. A modern catamaran, inconspicuous enough not to attract attention, yet a regular part of this route. Supposedly, goods were being shipped there, there was already talk of technical equipment and even weapons.. but that alone wouldn’t have interested Leon. Rumor had it that biochemical material was also part of the deal. Toxic, highly dangerous shit capable of putting an entire country out of commission... and that was his calling, that was his destiny, something he couldn’t ignore, because over the years he had seen what biological weapons could do.
Leon didn’t know much about the ship, only what could be pieced together from between the lines. If the clues were correct, then it wasn’t an ordinary freighter, rather, the thing was equipped with the latest technology. Anything else wouldn’t make sense, the sea was a practical way to smuggle contraband, but it was bound by laws and routes that a ship couldn’t simply circumvent, certainly not in European waters.
He ran through the possibilities in his head as he laid out his equipment on the small table in front of him. Things he’d managed to secure while still in the U.S. . A compact jammer, powerful enough to temporarily override cameras or simple radio signals. A portable hacking interface capable of bypassing digital locks or access systems, at least for a few seconds. Magnetic climbing grips, in case direct access via the gangway wasn’t an option. And, of course, his standard gear… just in case it wasn’t as empty as he’d hoped. A ship like this wouldn’t just sit unprotected in the harbor. Maybe no visible crew, no patrols on deck, but sensors, cameras, maybe motion detectors. Leon checked everything one last time. The route to the harbor, areas to avoid… and above all, places that didn’t show up on Google Maps, that looked more like they were grayed out, because that’s exactly where he suspected the ship in question was.
As night fell, he felt ready enough to launch his first mission. He knew of a harbor bar where the smugglers supposedly met regularly, but he would deliberately avoid it. He’d had bad experiences blending in incognito with an existing system, no matter how inconspicuously he moved... He still stood out, and he had no desire for those games that usually only led to wild fights among men and put everything and everyone on high alert. No... he wanted to go all in right away. If that ship actually existed, then he would board it.
Dublin Port 2 a.m.
The irish Port lay quiet, while the cold slowly but surely ate through Leon’s clothes and settled into his bones once more, even though he had since recovered, was quite vigorous, and still very fit, he was slowly feeling his age… he would soon turn 50, and even though his age didn’t really bother him, he was annoyed by the noticeable remnants of the last few difficult years. He didn’t let it deter him, he zipped his jacket up a bit higher and moved with unobtrusive steps between the containers, his gaze always alert, always on the move, always searching for something that didn’t quite fit into the picture. It wasn’t anything obvious, nothing that would immediately catch anyone’s eye, but that was precisely the point… it was the little things that interested him, he was used to picking up on small clues, reading and solving routes and paths like a puzzle.
Silent voices and a brief chuckle finally made him pause, his gaze drifted almost automatically in the direction the sound came from and lingered on a bar tucked away between two warehouses. For a moment, Leon observed the scene, letting it sink in, reconsidering whether it would be worth taking this path, whether there were answers there that might spare him the rest, but ultimately he shook his head inwardly and turned away. The further he moved away from the busier part of the harbor, the quieter it became around him. A container whose lock wasn’t quite secure, barely visible to anyone who didn’t know what to look for but for Leon, it was enough run his fingers over the fresh scratches, while his thoughts were already moving on. It didn’t take long before he noticed the tire tracks. He followed them without much haste, taking his time, staying calm as the individual clues fell into place piece by piece. He knew what he was looking for. He pulled the small interface out of his pocket, connected it to the panel, and waited the few seconds it took for the system to respond, a soft click confirmed what he had expected anyway, and without much fuss, he slipped through the narrow opening of a warehouse, letting the gate slide back into its original position behind him. Behind it, the atmosphere changed noticeably.
“A warehouse where nothing is stored… very creative.”
He muttered to himself, crossed the building, opened another massive gate, and… sure enough, now he saw it. The catamaran lay a short distance away, the warehouse was nothing more than an inconspicuous barrier separating this particular ship from the others, rendering it almost invisible. He took a break for a moment, letting his gaze sweep over the steel behemoth, searching for movement, for any sign that he wasn’t alone, but apart from the soft sound of water lapping against the hull, there was nothing, yet he knew this also meant nothing. Slowly, he stepped closer to the quay wall, stood in the shadows, and let his gaze wander across the deck, lingering on the cameras, counting their movements, waiting until a rhythm became apparent. It was a risk he didn’t have to take as long as he could avoid it, so he took the time he needed, leaned against the cold concrete for a moment, and waited until the procedures had settled in his mind. He covered the last few meters quickly but calm, a brief pulse from the jammer caused a barely perceptible flicker in the system, giving him exactly the window of time he needed. His hand rested on the hull as the magnetic grips clicked quietly into place, making the climb easier. It was nothing new to him, nothing he had to think about; every movement was precise, every grip found its place, until he finally reached the edge and pulled himself over it with a controlled motion. The agent lay flat for a moment, listened, let the silence wash over him. Then he slowly raised his head, let his gaze glide over the dark deck, and finally sat up.
“It almost makes you wish those damn zombies were back… that would feel better than this damn rocking all the time.”
He sighed, focused, and gained entry through a mechanical door by using a device that could decode door codes and trigger the mechanism from the outside. It all went too smoothly, he noticed that pretty quickly... had he overlooked something? Or did these guys just feel too safe? His sense of direction led him into the belly of the ship, and he was surprised by how much storage space it offered. Crates, crates everywhere, which, of course, looked completely unremarkable.
“A chaotic paradise of wood and steel... what a surprise.”
Quietly and strategically, he worked his way through the stacked crates, opening some completely, peering briefly into others, until he focused on those that looked a little different from the rest.
“Graphics cards? Well… if you look at the market, it’s worth smuggling the damn things, but still, it hardly seems worth it…”
Just as he was about to turn away, he felt the bottom of one of those very boxes give way, with a little force, it could be lifted… and then he froze.
“Bingo…”
Among the neatly stacked components lay small, inconspicuous containers, barely larger than a thumb, matte, without any markings.
“Of course…”
he murmured quietly as he lifted one of them between two fingers, testing its weight, examining the surface. He didn’t leave the container unprotected for long, instead, he pulled a small analyzer out of his pocket, flipped it open, and carefully placed the sample in the designated chamber. A soft whirring sound began, barely audible, as the device started working. Leon leaned back slightly, letting his gaze drift across the room as the seconds ticked by. The device emitted a short, dry beep, he lowered his eyes. The display flickered briefly before the first data appeared. His eyes narrowed as he scanned the results…
“...you’re joking.”
His voice was little more than a soft breath. The mixture consisted of an unstable combination of synthetic neurotoxins and modified protein structures, a sort of… hybrid. Fast-acting, highly aggressive. According to the analysis, a single drop would be enough to incapacitate several people within seconds. Leon exhaled slowly, closing the device for a moment as if he needed to process the information first.
“Welcome back, Kennedy.. a myth turns into a big deal.”
The moment had come when he was supposed to pass the information on to Sherry, but suddenly his device seemed to malfunction, he lost reception, and before he could even think to be surprised, the entire place suddenly lit up, and he sensed the vibrations of several heavy boots. There were at least 7–9 men… and they were almost certainly armed.
“Fuck…”
What had he overlooked? He hid between the crates, cocked his gun, even though he knew he wasn’t armed enough at that moment to take on so many at once. He held his ground, because now he had to adjust to a new situation…
@Edward Teach (Blackbeard).