Robert Ludlum's the Bourne Evolution - Brian Freeman Page 0,117
equal speed.
In the same instant, the half-dozen Medusa operatives on the pier bent over the crates at their feet and grabbed automatic rifles, which they began firing toward the five CEOs who were waiting near the first Jeep. The startled executives tried to run toward the jungle, but the hail of bullets cut them down and left their bodies twitching.
The gleaming white sand ran red with blood.
The James Bond look-alike guard finally awoke from his total shock and reached for his Glock, but Miss Shirley placed the barrel of one of her guns between his eyes, and he immediately raised his hands in surrender.
Hon Xiu-Le’s face twisted into a mask of terror and disbelief as he stared at the bodies and the blood. Miss Shirley pointed her other gun at his throat and said calmly, “What’s my name?”
“Miss Shirley! Miss Shirley!”
“Excellent.” She focused on the remaining guard. “Security details please.”
The remaining guard couldn’t talk fast enough. “They’ve got cameras on the beach, so they’ve been watching since you arrived. They know what just happened, and that means they’ll be calling in backup. They’ll seal everything up and hold you off until the cavalry arrives. You’ll never get through the gate.”
“Let me worry about that. How many men?”
“Four men doing shifts on the island perimeter, a dozen more men inside the estate with body armor and semi-automatic rifles.”
“Wonderful. Thank you for the information.”
Miss Shirley squeezed the trigger and shot him in the head.
She gestured toward the men on the pier to join her on the beach and then separately signaled toward the jungle, where three other Medusa operatives emerged from the trees. They had rifles in their hands, and their clothes were already streaked head to toe with blood.
The guards on the island perimeter were no longer a problem.
“Shall we?” Miss Shirley said to Gabriel Fox.
“Absolutely, my love.”
The team prepared to move out, and she nudged one of her guns against the neck of the Chinese CEO. “Lead the way to the Jeeps, Mr. Xiu-Le. Medusa would like to meet the rest of the tech cabal.”
*
THE silver Airbus helicopter carrying Miles Priest and Scott DeRay flew low enough to make whirlpools on the ocean water as it howled toward the island. As they got closer in the waning daylight, Priest saw the profile of the yacht docked at the pier, and it annoyed him that Gabriel had arrived ahead of them. Priest prided himself on his punctuality, with every meeting starting right on time.
“I hope your plan works, Scott,” Priest said.
Scott, in the rear seat next to him, looked equally unhappy with their delay. “I’m not sure we have any alternatives.”
Priest rubbed the long chin on his drooping face. He knew they were running out of time. “Our lobbyists in Washington tell me that the Senate has the votes to pass the tech reform bill, despite all the calls I’ve made. The House was a given, but we’d been hoping to stop it in the Senate. We’ll all be dogs on congressional leashes if this goes through. Except for Prescix, of course. If Medusa grabs hold of Prescix and takes it private, they’ll be able to operate with a fraction of the oversight on the rest of us, and there won’t be a damn thing we can do to stop them. Which I’m sure was the plan all along.”
“I’m afraid that’s not the only bad news,” Scott told him. “The feds are taking the war to another front, too.”
Priest scowled. “Namely?”
“I just got an email from one of my sources in the AG’s office. He says the Justice Department is threatening antitrust action against several of the largest players in the tech cabal. Starting with Carillon.”
“Outrageous!”
“It’ll be a long battle,” Scott said. “This will be a huge legal fight.”
Priest shook his head. “That’s the whole point. It will be another expensive distraction. We’ll be battling the government instead of battling Medusa. The timing is no coincidence. They’re trying to bleed us with a thousand cuts.”
“Looks that way.”
“It isn’t about the other companies,” Priest added, staring at the water below them. “It isn’t even about Carillon. It’s me they want. This is a personal vendetta against me. I’m the biggest obstacle to their plans, and they want me gone.”
“They know you’re the face of Big Tech,” Scott replied. “They need to take you down.”
“Sir.”
The voice of the helicopter pilot crackled over both of their headsets, interrupting them.
“What is it, Tom?” Priest asked impatiently. “Why aren’t we heading for the helipad?”