The Freelancer

Chapter Seven

Manchester, United Kingdom

Audra tapped her fingers against the window as Clark drove, eyes focused on the road. They had been working together for three months, yet Audra knew only one thing about Clark. He was a stickler for the rules. She had been at the Agency before him, and when Clark arrived, all he wanted was to get things done the right way.

As much as Audra wanted to tell him that the rules weren’t always what got the job done, especially within CIA, she kept her opinions to herself. Clark wouldn’t even take his eyes off the road to converse with her while driving, so she knew she’d have a better time letting him figure out how things worked for himself.

The switch off the main road was one Audra would never get used to. The urban cityscape filled with bustling people, glass-fronted shops, and different honks from impatient drivers quickly gave way to a more desolate-looking area. As they drove into the industrial outskirts, Audra reaffirmed her agreement with voters.

The upscale storefronts gave way to worn-down buildings that looked abandoned, rife with squatters, or homeless. The traffic thinned down, and the cracks in the pavement became even more apparent. Soon, they were driving past graffiti-covered walls with gang signs, murals, and hip-hop expressions.

Clark pulled the car into a large parking lot assigned to the large warehouses in front of them. Audra counted four, but knew there were more scattered around. They were used for steelwork, storage, and construction. Only one of the four was in use, working as a garage.

“Okay, I think it’d be best if you let me handle this one,” Audra said to him as the distant rumble of a train reached their ears. “I have history with these guys.”

“You think they’ll spot me,” Clark said with a smirk.

Audra smiled at him, “Clark, even if you weren’t in the Agency, I’d still peg you for a Fed.”

She got out of the vehicle and made her way over to the garage. While Audra was right about having history with them, what she didn’t tell Clark, was that the history was not a good one. Audra walked up to the smaller side door, knocking twice.

The door opened slightly, revealing a scruffy-looking bearded man with an oil-stained face. He raised an eyebrow at her, “Who are you?”

“CIA, mind if I come in?”

The man did a double-take before looking back into the garage. It wasn’t the response he had expected, and Audra smiled as she realized he had no idea what to do. She moved her jacket to the side, revealing her badge.

“Uh, I’m not sure this is a good time, I don’t…” the man stuttered.

“It’s alright, I’m an old friend of Jon.”

Audra listened as he shut the door and rushed over. Looking back at Clark, she gave him a thumbs up before the door opened again.

“Audra, my least favorite fed, what brings you here? Why you scaring my boy?” Jon asked, turning off the butane torch he held. He pulled Audra in for a hug, his large body almost twice the size of hers.

“You need to scare these kids straight sometimes,” said Audra, “Mind if we talk?”

Jon nodded and they moved through the garage. On the surface, it looked like, and operated like an actual garage. There were busted up vehicles being worked on at every corner of the space. Jon had acquired rights to use the space, and had kept it to himself for a few years.

Walking over to a service pit, Jon stretched out a hand to hold Audra as they descended the stairs. Once at the bottom, Jon hit a button on the wall, causing a car above them to drive over the pit, covering them from above. He pushed the wall to the right, revealing a hidden door.

Audra walked in, taking in the room. She had only been there one other time.

“So, what are we looking for? I got some new toys coming in if you’re looking to purchase,” Jon said, pointing at a map he had taped to the wall.

Audra looked around at the weapons in the hidden room. Lining the walls were all sorts of pistols, assault weapons, grenades, and ammunition. Some of them were packed in crates in a corner, and others were put on display. Audra walked over to a bolt-action rifle.

“Don’t touch her; she’s mine,” Jon said with a chuckle as he wiped the grease stains from his hands.

“Yeah, sorry. I just didn’t have time to appreciate the operation you’ve got going here the last time,” Audra replied. “I’m not looking to get anything, at least not now. I want to find out who bought something. A Markov.”

Jon bit his tongue, “Come on, Audra, that’s tough.”

Audra nodded, “But I take it you saw the news, and the gun points here. If I’m not the one here, someone else will come. I need to get something.”

Jon nodded. Audra had kept his operation safe for as long as they knew each other. Audra ensured he kept his trade, and he would give her information in return. While weapons were his main trade, Jon only received and shipped packages, serving as a waystation for them.

But occasionally, he would meet with some very persuasive clients, who would want a pistol or two.

“They were Bratva, but I’m sure you know this already.”

“Yeah, Yulia Ivanova.”

“That’s her. She wanted the Markov but couldn’t get a gun into the country, so she got from here. She pressed me hard, and it was their shipment anyway, so I just let her have it.”

“Shipment?” Audra asked, raising an eyebrow. “They have a shipment?”

“Yeah, I sent it through already. I think it’s heading through to…Warsaw, if I’m right. I think it just left the port a day ago.”

Audra pulled out her notepad. “I need all of the details on that shipment—what's in it, who’s handling it, and where it's going to land.”

Eight thousand words in guys! Thank you so much! It takes a minute to decide on the plot, but I’ll try to get the chapters out faster! Enjoy your summer! :-D