The Gray Man Ch. 23 - Fatima

Gray needed rest, but he also needed to get to Glasgow. He returned to the La Réserve Paris to shower and retrieve his luggage and computer as well as his British Passport. He checked in with Special Agent Thomas at the embassy as he hailed a taxi for the short ride to Gare du Nord.

Thomas had told Gray to leave the rental car at the hotel and that there would be a rental waiting for him at the central station in Glasgow. Thomas had directed the station chief at the US Consulate in Edinburgh to provide any support that she could. She would make sure there was a car waiting for him upon his arrival.

Gray sat alone in the corner of a Parisian café, nursing a strong espresso and keeping a close eye on the entrance. He had a bit of time to kill before the Eurostar boarded for London.

He had just rescued Fiona from the clutches of one of the deadliest criminal organizations in Europe. Fiona was working with a Clean Team from MI-6 after the arrest of Erik Muller and Camille Dubois.

Now, his attention turned to Fatima. Glasgow was the only information Gray had. The smirk tugged at the corners of his lips as he contemplated his next move. Gray had a plan, and it was time to set it in motion. He had to get out of Paris, and fast.

Standing up, he left a few euros on the table and slipped out of the café, blending into the crowd like a ghost. He made his way to Gare du Nord, where the Eurostar awaited. The sleek, steel beast was his ticket out of Paris and into the heart of London.

Boarding the train, Gray's senses heightened. He scanned the faces of his fellow passengers, always on the lookout for any signs of trouble. His instincts had saved him more times than he could count, and he wasn't about to ignore them now.

The Eurostar raced through the dark tunnel beneath the English Channel. Gray kept his eyes peeled, knowing that danger could lurk anywhere, even in the seemingly secure confines of the train. He'd been in worse situations before, but something about this job felt different. Angela having calls go direct to voicemail weighed heavy on his mind

Upon arriving in London, Gray blended into the bustling crowd at St Pancras International Gray, or Jonathon Barnes, his alias, purchased his ticket on ScotRail. He had an hour before boarding so he made his way to Benugo to grab some food. He ordered a Toasted Pastrami sandwich and a pint of Unbarred Barrel Aged Stout. Gray scanned the crowd as he ate before he boarded a ScotRail train bound for Glasgow.

As the train sliced through the picturesque British countryside, Gray's mind raced with thoughts of his next moves. The fact that Nazir, Fatima, Ahmed stayed one step ahead of him was troubling. Erik and Camille, both vetted agents of allied governments, had been swayed by the high bounty on Gray's head. He realized that he was quickly running out of people he could trust.

Arriving in Glasgow, Gray felt a mix of familiarity and tension. He had been here before, but never on a mission like this. He called Angela again, and just like before the call went straight to voicemail.

He went up the chain of command and called General Williams who informed Gray that Angela had left on a week's leave. That puzzled Gray even more wondering why Angela would have her phone turned off, that was not like her.

The ugly scars on his back ached as the rage rekindled as his stress about the woman he loved grew. Hearing his own brain echo the word love fed the angry beast lurking just beneath the surface once again.

He checked into the Hotel Glasgow as Jonathon Barnes, went to his room and opened his computer, checked in with Underwood and started looking at the intelligence that Greg and Amber had, plus anything new they may have found.

As night fell, Gray slipped back into the black tactical pants, black turtleneck, and boots that he had worn the night he rescued Fiona. He knew that he should wait for word from the Consulate, or from Fiona and her team at MI-5. Gray knew what he SHOULD do is to wait, but the raging beast demanded action, NOW. He decided that tonight was zero hour. Gray navigated the rain-soaked streets of Glasgow, his footsteps purposeful as he approached the inconspicuous apartment building.

The dimly lit stairwell led him down into the depths of the building, where the apartment lay hidden in the basement with its own private entrance. Gray moved quietly, stopping every few steps to listen and calm his own breathing. His heart pounded, anticipation mingling with the silent tension that surrounded him.

As he reached the basement, he noticed a faint flicker of light beneath the door of the apartment.

Gray silently pushed open the door, revealing a dimly lit living space. The room was sparsely furnished, with shadows dancing across the walls. In the center stood Ahmed, a malevolent grin etched on his face.

Before his eyes could adjust Ahmed was on him. Like a bull rush Ahmed drove his shoulder into the American's but and drove him to the ground. Gray's head smashed against a sofa causing him to see stars as he used his forearms to absorb the punches that Ahmed rained down on him.

Ahmed's laughter filled the room, mocking and cold. "You're just a pawn in a larger game. The French Woman was a puppet, my uncle enjoyed the show anticipating. You Americans are all the same, you think he cares what you did to that French whore. She is a pawn in the game, expendable. Do you think he cares about what happens to me, or Fatima? Pawns, Mr. Gray. The difference is, we know we are pawns and you are too foolish to understand how expendable you are."

Ahmed spoke English with no hint of an accent. He could have just as easily been from any small town in the midwest United States instead of the ruthless son of a cruel Afghani Warlord.

Gray ignored the taunts, focusing on rolling away from the brutal assault from Ahmed. Gray scrambled to his feet, but Ahmed had other plans. Before Gray could react, Ahmed lunged at him, catching him off guard as he drove him against the wall.

The angry scars on his back now screamed their pain as TJ tucked his head to avoid his skull being caved in by the brick. Gray managed to slide out of the larger man's grip and spin away once again.

"Gray," Ahmed sneered, his voice dripping with arrogance. "You're brave to come alone, but you won't leave here alive."

Gray remained composed, his training guiding him through this perilous encounter. "It ends tonight, Ahmed."

Ahmed's sinister laughter filled the air, making Gray's skin crawl. "You underestimate me, Agent Gray. I'm always one step ahead. The price on your head is dead or alive."

Before Gray could react, Ahmed lunged at him again, his movements like a serpent striking its prey. The fight that ensued was fast and brutal, with Ahmed's calculated blows forcing Gray onto the defensive. He could sense that Ahmed had meticulously planned every move, catching him off-guard and exploiting any weaknesses.

TJ was furious with himself. He was making the same fucking mistake he did with Aziz when he was captured. Every time Gray got himself into trouble it was because he lost patience. Coming here was a set up. Ahmed had expected him and had planned this ambush as well as he could have. Gray was in a fight for his life, and by extension the lives of many others.

The shadows seemed to dance around them as they grappled, each strike accompanied by the eerie silence of the basement. Gray struggled to keep up, his mind racing to find a strategy to overcome Ahmed's relentless assault. He couldn't let this madman finish his mission..

TJ rolled with a punch allowing himself to skid across the floor. As he rolled he grabbed a broken chair leg. He didn't even realize one had broken, but at this moment, it was his best defense. The defense was short lived as Ahmed brought his fist across Gray's wrist in swift maneuver, disarming Gray, sending his weapon skittering across the floor. Once again unarmed, Gray relied solely on his combat skills to defend himself. Ahmed seized the opportunity, driving Gray back with a ferocious kick.

As they battled, Gray's eyes darted around the room, searching for anything that could give him an advantage. He spotted a broken broom handle near the wall and lunged for it. Gripping the makeshift weapon, he turned to face Ahmed, determination etched on his face.

Ahmed's grin widened, relishing in his apparent dominance. "You're no match for me old man," he taunted.

Gray blocked out the taunts, focusing solely on the fight. He struck back with fierce determination, using the broom handle to fend off Ahmed's attacks. The room seemed to shrink around them as they moved, leaving no room for error.

For a moment, it seemed as though Ahmed had the upper hand, but Gray refused to back down. He tapped into his training and experience, using every ounce of strength and agility to keep Ahmed at bay. The fight raged on, both men pushing their bodies and minds to their limits.

As their struggle intensified, Gray's determination grew stronger. He knew that he was running out of time. Ahmed was 10 years younger, well trained, having anticipated the fight and creating a home field advantage.

Ahmed sneered, "Maybe with you dead, my uncle will let me fuck the American bitch. Fucking her while I choke the life out of her. Her last thoughts being how you failed her, how you abandoned her. I'll let her cum before I kill her."

In the flickering light, Gray saw that Ahmed had produced a knife. In truth the fight should have been over. Gray was tired, after the fight in Paris, the train ride. Ahmed had kicked his ass all over this apartment. Ahmed's downfall would be his taunts. They didn't distract the American Agent, they only unlocked the cage that Gray had worked hard to shove the enraged PTSD beast back into. With a surge of Rage, Gray chopped at Ahmed and managed to disarm the terrorist, sending the knife clattering away.

"You won't win, Ahmed!" Gray shouted, his voice echoing with conviction. "Your uncle died trying, Nazir will die trying, Pavel and Anastasia failed, Erik and Camille failed. Face it, I'm unkillable."

Ahmed's eyes burned with hatred, his resolve unwavering. But Gray saw something else flicker in those eyes--a hint of doubt. He pressed forward, relentless in his pursuit of justice.

Ahmed charged his prey again, but this time TJ anticipated the attack. He sidestepped the charging Ahmed, swung around behind him and locked in a rear naked choke, driving the Afghani to the ground.

Ahmed fought, clawing at Gray's head. Ahmed tried to tap out, but this was not a jiu jitsu mat, there were no tap outs as Gray clenched down the choke even harder, feeling the consciousness start to fade from his bull like opponent.

The room fell into a tense silence, broken only by the heavy breathing of the two combatants. Ahmed struggled beneath Gray's grip, but the agent held firm, refusing to let go. In a few short seconds Ahmed was limp and unconscious. Gray gripped the choke even tighter even though there was no fight left in the terrorist.

The battle between good and evil raged in Gray's mind until good finally prevailed. Gray released the grip and hurriedly secured the large Afghan man with zip ties. Ahmed's cell phone, which was laying on the table, chirped with an incoming call.

TJ received the call but didn't say anything.

Fatima's voice was on the other end, "Ahmed, hello."

Gray replied, "Ahmed is sleeping, may I help you Fatima?"

TJ expected a shocked response, instead the response was cold and calculated. "Are you looking for your girlfriend? Perhaps you expected to find the explosives." Fatima laughed, "You are a fool, Mr. Gray. You see, I anticipated you finding the apartment, I am just sorry Ahmed's greeting wasn't more welcoming."

Gray's voice was quiet, "Where is she?"

Fatima laughed, "Now where is the fun in that. Imagine the headlines and the nightmare to foreign relations when all of the forensic tests done in London reveal that the driver of the van was an American Marine. You see, Mr. Gray, you played right into my hands. Thousands dead and an American to blame. Goodbye Mr. Gray."

TJ's frustration at his own impatience washed over him again. He SHOULD have backup, a tech team, someone at The Office tracking cell phones. Fatima could be anywhere. The bombers could be anywhere. Gray had Ahmed, who he had wrongly presumed was the mastermind behind the planned attack on London, when in reality it's been Fatima all along.

Gray screamed into the silence of the nearly destroyed apartment. He was back to square one.

Gray stood in the dimly lit basement apartment, his chest heaving with exertion from the intense fight. The adrenaline coursing through his veins had kept him going, but now, as he looked down at the subdued Ahmed, his anger and frustration boiled to the surface. His mind was a tempest, haunted by memories of past battles and the weight of his post-traumatic experiences clawing at his consciousness.

Gray slapped the back of Ahmed's head, waking him up from being choked out, his voice tinged with bitterness. "Where is she?"

Ahmed's face contorted into a sinister grin, as if he took pleasure in Gray's torment. "Where is who? Fatima, perhaps your girlfriend? You'll never find either one, Gray," he taunted. "Like I said, mere pawns in the game."

Gray's jaw clenched, fighting to keep his emotions in check. He knew that getting information from Ahmed wouldn't be easy, but he had to try. He approached the terrorist, his eyes locking onto Ahmed's defiant gaze.

"I am in no mood for fucking games," Gray retorted. "A fight happened here, did you lose or did I kill you? Nobody would know the difference if I choked you out again, this time not releasing you until your body gave up entirely."

Ahmed laughed, "You are bluffing, Mr. Gray. That fake American morality. You can't choke me out like that - but you stand by while your drones attack entire villages."

Fighting to keep his rage in check, Gray attempted to extract any information he could about Fatima. He probed, questioning and pressing, but Ahmed remained tight-lipped, refusing to divulge any meaningful details.

Frustration gnawed at Gray's resolve, but he knew that he couldn't allow the rage to consume him. Collateral damage was one thing, he had killed more than one person in his career, but Ahmed was right - there was no way that Gray could lower himself to cold blooded murder. He took a deep breath, steadying himself before speaking again. "You continue to underestimate me, that has proven to be a mistake more than once."

Ahmed laughed, a cold and haunting sound that sent chills down Gray's spine. "Is that so, or are we playing on your own demons. You're just like me, Gray," he hissed. "Haunted by the past, driven by your own demons. You'll never escape them."

Gray's eyes flashed with anger, but he refused to be manipulated by Ahmed's mind games. He stepped back, distancing himself from the terrorist, determined to find another way to get the information he needed.

As he stood in the shadows of the basement, Gray took out his phone and dialed the number for the US Consulate in Edinburgh. The voice of the station chief, Agent Matthews, came through the line.

Agent Debra Matthews picked up the phone, "Matthews."

Gray spoke quietly, "I have Ahmed, but not Fatima." Gray took a deep breath, "Nor do I have First Sergeant Taggert."

Debra made a note and handed it to her communications specialist, "Understood."

Gray replied, "Ahmed is not talking. I need information, but so far nothing."

Matthews heard the frustration in TJ's voice. She had been briefed on The Ghost, both good and bad. She fully understood the gravity of the situation. "We'll take it from here," she assured Gray. "Bring him to our location in Edinburgh. We'll find a way to break him."

Gray hesitated, the weight of his failure still gnawing at him. Before he could stop himself he gave voice to his reality, "I'm tired" he admitted. "The memories, the anger--it's all too much sometimes."

There was a brief pause on the line before Matthews spoke again, her voice filled with empathy. "You're not alone in this, Gray," he said. "We all carry our burdens, but we rely on each other to get through. You are The Ghost, don't ever forget who you are. Stay where you are, we'll handle Ahmed."

Gray nodded, grateful for the support, even from miles away. He knew that he couldn't let Post Traumatic define him or compromise his duty. Within the hour a pair of agents, one FBI - one MI-5 arrived to load Ahmed into a car to be whisked to London for further questioning.

As he walked back into the rainy streets of Glasgow, Gray knew that he had to find a way to confront his demons. This is not the time for the beast to take control

The next morning TJ's phone woke him up before sunrise. Admiral Barnett was on the other end of the call.

Gray picked up the phone, Admiral Barnett was on the other end of the call. He didn't wait for pleasantries. "Need to keep this quick, leaving a meeting at State and wanted to pass on our marching orders."

TJ sat up on the edge of the bed as The Admiral continued, "You aren't going to like this any more than I do, but I need you to focus."

Gray acknowledged with a sleepy, "Aye Aye, Sir."

Admiral Barnett started. "First Sergeant Taggert is officially missing. General Williams has not been able to reach her. He sent Army CID to her apartment and she isn't there either. She is still officially on leave, but Williams is concerned enough to contact SOCOM. Technically, she is under their umbrella on her current duty tasking assignment. I have Admiral McBride's assurance that her whereabouts is Priority Tasked. They are pissed that one of their own is missing."

Gray's brow furrowed, the fear rose in his throat. If she was in the clutches of Nazir this was completely on him. She was a Marine, a damn good Marine. There is no way that she could be taken unexpectedly. "Dammit, I should be the one looking for her."

The Admiral was direct, "Should in one hand and shit in the other Mr. Gray and see which one fills up first. You are one person, SOCOM has resources you don't have. Hell, you were one of them, son, let them do their damned job. Get your head back in furcking game Sergeant Major, that is an order."

Gray was furious, but Steven was right, "What are my orders, Sir," TJ responded curtly.

The Admiral went on, "You are to report to Thames House and coordinate directly with MI-5. Find Fatima and stop this bullshit."

Gray stood and walked towards the bathroom in his hotel, "Roger that. What about Nazir?"

Steven Barnett took a deep breath, that was on a strict need to know basis. Telling Gray would defy that order, to not tell him could send Gray on a murderous rage into Pakistan. "SecDef has all of the information that Greg and Amber could find. We are in the loop, but that decision is higher up the food chain."

Gray paced the darkened room, "Aye Aye, Admiral. I'll leave here and head to London."

The phone line went quiet as Gray packed everything up, checked out, boarded the ScotRail train to London and went directly to Thames House. When he checked in with security, he buzzed upstairs and Fiona came down to escort him to a conference room where two other agents were diligently working.

When she saw him she was shocked. Gray had a black eye, a cut above one eye, his hands were black and blue, his nose was swollen. It looked more like he had been in an automobile accident than a fight.

She noticed that the visible injuries weren't the only ones as he was moving much slower and with a limp that had not been present in Paris.

Once in the room, Gray brought everyone up to speed on the situation with Ahmed. After a couple of hours the large monitors came to life as Greg and Amber were conferenced in from The Office.