*By permission of Squigui:
The man sat on the bed, still not quite in control: the conversation with Conrad replaying through his memory, again...
"No, no mistake. I spoke with him this morning and some Frederico confirms it is Cameron. Doctor says he's out for a at least a week."
"CAMERON was drunk?", the man had asked.
"No", replied Conrad, "The other guy had a BAC of .15 and had been going 80 in the wrong direction when he hit Cameron. Our guy swerved and got a bit banged up - doctor's need him to stay down for a week."
"And the other guy?", the man had asked.
"Coma - when his car hit Cameron's he went airborne for about 100 feet and he flew out and landed in some trees."
"100 feet? Da_n!"
"That's strange...?"
"What?", asked the man.
"The police report states that they found hands in the wreck with thin wires wrapped on the steering wheel - like piano wire - and the drunk guy had no hands when they found him in the trees?"
"Thin wire?", the man asked, "Like a garrotte? So his hands were tied to the steering wheel, cut off when he ejected? So he wasn't driving?!!"
He had started to think HARD at that point. This factor was unplanned. That French woman? He still wondered if the Chinese knew anything.
After an hour he reached for the room phone. He would think better on a full stomach...
The phone rang before he reached it. Suspicious, he looked at it as it rang three, now four times. An alarm rang in his head - something was VERY wrong.
He was up and running for the outside window before his mind noticed the details, felt the door open, felt the curtains part before him, felt the air below him as he leapt heard the spray of bullets cutting the bed to pieces behind him.
He hit the ground with a hard thump, but at a dead run. His mind snapped through the details of his planned escapes. With Cameron down and certain assets missing there were now too many unknowns in the equation. He knew his rental car was useless, but he was not one to forget backup plans. As he slowed a few blocks away he hailed a cab.
As the driver pulled away, the man heard his cellphone chirp. He listened to the recording of William's voice. He had found Nathan at the safe house. He smiled at William's offer to lead him in as he knew exactly where the house was. But then the dark thought crossed his mind that he had just been attacked.
It was time for a backup plan. It was time he brought some of the other players together. Protecting the chip had been the easy part. Everything had been according to plan so far. He was reminded of his early days of training and the maxim he had learned: Plans Change. How true now that this plan had apparently been 'changed' for him.
He thought quickly. With Cameron down and that French woman - what was she calling herself this mission? - out of contact for so long, he knew the only people he could count on would be Nathan and William. The girl was not exactly expendable, but certainly remained an unknown in many respects. He stared out the window for a long time...
WAIT! William had been tracking them and had them at the safe house. Knowing William's reputation for reflective, patient action, he knew he had to act fast. He pulled out the cellphone and pulled up the numbers for Nathan and William. It was time for a meeting among professionals, not a blood orgy between killers. He hit the button to conference them in. As they both answered nearly the same time, he said, "Gentlemen. You both know this voice. You know I said you could trust me. Stand down now. We have a problem. We need to talk. You know where the house is. Let us meet there. Keep the target and the package safe. This thing is bigger than any of us has been told. We three are professional men, we need to pull together or we'll all be professional, DEAD men."
He changed his cab's destination, handed the driver an extra $100 bill and told him to not worry about traffic laws. He could be at the house in under ten minutes if the driver was any good.