The Apostate

by Jack Hardin

  Langley had provided a mission brief to TEAM 99 that included several variations on a time lapse, and Amina indicated that he now sported a full beard typical of so many Muslim radicals. He also said that he had a long scar running down his left cheek, the result of a car accident in the Pshar mountains of Pakistan several years ago.

  Langley was scrambling, trying to explain why Nasir __ had been completely unknown to them. Nasir’s name and identity had not even been heard in so much as a whisper. He was, in every sense of the word, unknown.

  The operatives checked their weapons a final time and Voltaire raised his right fist and drew an outward swoop with two fingers. Ellie, Virgil, and Faraday slowly descended the hill. Volatire repeated the motion with his left hand and Cicero, Dante, and Darwin moved to his left and entered the orchard. Voltaire, as the top marksmen among them, would take the eagle position. He brought out his rifle, fitting the suppressor and bipod to the weapon as his team moved silently towards the house like ghosts in a bad dream. The olive orchard stopped its ascent ten yards below, so there was nothing to obstruct his view of the house, the property, or the open desert beyond. Voltaire sighted through his scope, made his initial adjustments, and slipped his finger onto the trigger.

  Ellie’s squad moved with practiced east down the hill, taking a knee when they finally reach the bottom and used the trees as a modicum of cover as they assessed the property up close. The front door was forty meters in front of them. No outside lights were on and no security cameras. Only a dim yellow glow coming from an upstairs bedroom. It was nearly midnight. Ellie clicked her mic once and watched as Darwin’s squad emerged from the trees and silently routed towards the opposite side side of the house.

  Ellie slipped out of cover and quickly led her squad to the front porch. She scanned for threats as Virgil moved past her and approached the door with a blasting charge ready. He pressed it into the door just beneath the lock and stepped retreat.

  Voltaire, watching from above said, “One, team. Breach ready. Squad one, report.

  Ellie clicked her mic.

  “Squad two, report.”

  One click.

  “Team ready. Procede. Let’s get his ass.”

  All anonymity the American’s possessed up to this point vanquished as Virgil detonated the charge and the door exploded, hundreds of fragments of wood whizzing through the air before coming to rest in the snow.

  Loud, urgent voices came from upstairs but quickly receded before ceasing altogether. Ellie was the first to step across what was left of the threshold and the rest of the team stepped in behind her, and moved together down the hall like an enormous centipede. They quickly cleared each room, the monochrome of their night vision coloring everything an eerie green as it is gave them the edge in the darkness. They passed through the small kitchen and heard a scuffle in the adjoining room and then the crisp, distant sound of a slide racking on a semi-automatic rifle and a round entering the steel chamber. Ellie held up a fist and, three fingers, and swept them towards the right wall. Darwin, Cicero, and retreated back through the kitchen, silently circumnavigating the kitchen as they approached the room from the other side.

  Ellie plucked a smoke grenade from her utility belt, pulled the pin, and tossed it around the corner. It clattered loudly on the bare concrete floor and hissed as smoke hissed from the pressurized can.

  The grenade was to serve as a distraction rather than additional cover. It had its desired effect. No sooner had Elile tossed it out then a chatter of gunfire erupted from the other room, scared insurgents shooting at anything that moved, the rounds scarring the wall just feet in front Ellie’s face. The gunfire was answered by the succinct bursts from three HK416s as Darwin's squad returned fire from behind. Seconds later, “Clear!”

  Ellie swooped around the corner to see three figures lying on the ground, their clothing riddled with bullet holes, blood oozing through and onto the floor. At the other end of the room three bed rolls lay against the wall.

  Ellie’s squad worked to clear the rest of the floor as Darwin’s squad grouped at the foot of the stairs and made their way up. As Ellie stepped out of the southwest bedroom and made her way back to the room at the back where the dead men lay. Faraday took up station near the back door. The first floor was clear, but from her position she could subdue anyone attempting to enter through the front or rear doors. Virgil’s spoke up from across the house. “I’ve got an explosives lab in here.” Ellie left Faraday and moved down the hallway running beneath the stairs. Virgil was in the room at the far end. Ellie entered and surveyed the room through her goggles. Beakers and glass mixers were strewn across a high table. A soldering iron sat unplugged on the table amid wire cuttings, tools, and metal shavings. A soup can was half full of ball bearings.

  Gunfire reported from upstairs as Ellie and Virgil carefully opened cabinets and drawers. Virgil carefully lifted a small cardboard box and set it on the table, pulled back the flaps. “Damn,” he whispered. The box was filled with gray blocks of C-4 wrapped in a transparent plastic wrap.

  More gun chatter from upstairs, followed by the explosion of an Aermicah stun grenade, before a final sunburst and everything going quiet.

  Ellie looked at Virgil. He was the explosives expert on the team. “What do you think?” she asked.

  Virgil removed his glove and tapped the soldering iron with his finger. “Still warm,” he said. “But I don’t see anything in here th

  “Second floor secure. Three tangos down. Zero in tow.” Above them the floor creaked as Darwin’s squad moved back towards the stairs.

  Volaire’s spoke over the comms: “Squad One, I have a vehicle retreating away from the house. Heading east. Follow.”

  Looks like it was hidden Could be a hidden cave Proceed.

  Virgil whipped his gaze toward Ellie. “Let’s go,” she said. He followed her out of the room and to the back door where Faraday was keeping watch. Ellie motioned towards Faraday. “You’re with me. Virgil, you have watch.” He nodded and stepped up as Ellie and Faraday disappeared out the back door and into the night.

  The vehicle was a Toyota Hilux it rode across the snow as though the driver knew where the invisible road was, riding past small lumps in the snow where rocks and stones lay. Volaitre sighted his rifle and made the necessary adjustments for the shot. The truck was , he guessed at only thirty miles-an-hour.

  They did not seem to be in a hurry and, unless they had seen him team coming down through the olive orached, which was highly unlikely, they must have just missed

  Voliaire slipped his finger over the trigger. He breath was already steady. He fired.

  The bullet hit low, pinging off the truck’s undercarriage before dying in the sand. The truck’s brake lights momentarily glowed into the night, briefly slowing the truck before the driver changed his mind and fed it more gas. The truck suddenly shot forward and quickly accelerated to over sixty miles an hour.

  Volatire took aim again and fired.

  The bullet punched through the rear window and carved a back through the driver seat before entering the man behind the wheel. The truck immiedarl slowed.

  Ellie got the man clear in her NVGs and when his gaze swung around she was given a perfect glisme of his features.

  Volatir’s bullt had entered the driver’s neck and exicted through his throat. His chest lay on the steering wheel and his lifeless face was turned toward Ellie, his head slumping down towards the dash. was

  The driver was slumped over the steering wheel, unmoving. Someone was in the seat across from him. “Freeze!” Ellie yelled. “La tataharak! Don’t move! La tataharak!” She saw a flash of movement on the other side of the passenger window. She sent two short bursts through the window and door. Faraday approached the door and ducked low as she grabbed the handle, stepped back, and flung it open. Ellie stepped in, her weapon trained on the inside of the truck, still barking for the passenger, if he was still alive, to freeze.

  The tactical light mounted to her rifle rail illu
minated the inside of the cab. A man was sitting there, his empty hands lay in his lap. He had a large black beard, wet with blood that was trickling out past his lips and dribbling off his tongue. A long scar

  It was the Apostate.

  He smiled through the pain where Ellie's bullets had pierced him and took note of her features. “Ah, America. You found me.” He winced as he let out a deep chuckle. “Very good...very good.”

  Nasir was unarmed. Ellie wanted to shoot him right then and there but she did not have the authority to do so; not in cold blood.

  Faraday immediately went around to the bed of the truck to search for explosives, anything that might indicate the vehicle itself was hot. Seeing nothing, she went around to the driver’s side, open the door, and played her light behind the seat, under the seat, and at the feet of the dead driver. Then she dropped down and searched the undercarriage as Ellie looked at the man in the passenger seat

  She removed a cell phone from the side pocket of her cargo pants and held it up as she snapped several pictures. He chuckled again. “You are going to put my face on the cover of TIME magazine?”

  “No. This is for your obituary.”

  “I… surrender.”

  Ellie returned the phone to her pocket. “The United States does not accept your surrender.”

  Nasir’s eyes grew darker and he smiled. “Allah Ak—” Ellie leaned in brought her gloves fist up high, and punched him hard in the mouth. His head flung back and she felt a couple teeth snap off against the impact of her knuckles. She quickly unslung her pack and unzipped a side pocket.

  Her ear mic chirped. “Two, five. Approaching.” Ellie heard the patter of footsteps on the road and glanced back to see Faraday emerging out of the darkness. She approached the truck.

  “What are you doing?” she asked Ellie.

  Ellie was aware that she was breaking protocol. After snapping the picture she should have left the vehicle. She also knew that the Pentagon, Langley and mostly likely, the President, were listening in, watching the live video feed coming through the night vision cameras on the operative’s helmets. Ellie looked Nasir in the face as she answered Faraday. “I’m not going to give him the satisfaction of offering praise to his god when the drone wipes him out.”

  Nasir’s eyes widened mometarly widened as the reality of the situation dawned on him. Ellie withdrew a small roll of duct tape and handed it to Faraday. “Tear me a piece.” Ellie reached down and grabbed her knife, cut a swath of fabric from Nasir’s shirt. She bunched it together with her fingers and then jammed it into his mouth. He tried using his tongue to work it out but Faraday quickly spread the tape over his mouth. She tore off another, longer strip and laid it over the first one, wrapping it back behind his head. Ellie grabbed the roll of tape and spun it around his wrists and hands before tearing it and returning the roll to her pack.

  It was time to go. She leaned in and whispered in Nasir’s ear. “By the way. Your sister, Amina. She gave you up. You should have taken better care of your niece.” Ellie stood erect and patted him on the shoulder. “Just thought you should know that.” With that, she stepped away from the truck and started to jog in the direction of the compound, Faraday following behind her. “Reaper Ten,” Ellie said. “All clear.”

  The ground shook behind them as a Paveway II Laser-Guided Bomb hit the truck and a fireball twenty meters wide flashed outwards as the truck erupted into a fireball and the Apostate entered the afterlife and speed to his final judgement.

  The six soldiers gathered at the foot of the hill, at the edge of the olive orchard, and paused briefly to look back at the smoldering wreckage.

  The CIA and the Pentagon would release the identity and the fate of the Apostate. In so doing they would send a clear message to the world that the United States of America would forever come for revenge against its foes.

  The Apostate was dead.

  The whole world would soon know it.

  And the American operatives responsible for his execution would forever remain in the shadows.

  Chapter Eleven

  Six Weeks Later

  TEAM 99 Compound

  U.S. Army Garrison: Benelux, Brussels, Belgium

  Ellie sat on her queen bed with her feet tucked beneath her, propped up against a couple pillows while a mug of green tea saw steaming beside her on her nightstand. Her eyes roved the pages of Jack Reacher’s newest adventure. Her window blinds were raised, the navy blue curtains pulled aside, and light streamed in from outside as it reflected off a fresh layer of snow that had fallen across Brussels overnight. Ellie slipped a finger behind the next page and turned it just as a soft buzz filled her bedroom and a small yellow light just above her door blinked repeatedly. She looked up at the light, wanting to ignore it. But ignoring it wasn’t an option. She sighed and marked her place in the book before laying it on the bed. Swinging her legs off the bed she slipped her feet in her sandals stood up and walked to the door.

  Her sandals slapped lazily on her feet as she made her way down the concrete hallway. Cicero’s door opened and he stepped out staring intently at his phone. “I swear,” he mumbled, “Mortimer picks the worst times to call us to his office.”

  “Tetris?” she asked.

  “I’ve spent the last thirty minutes working up to a new high score.”

  Ellie smiled. “How dare he interrupt your little game.”

  “Right?” He followed slowly behind Ellie and continued racking up points. Ellie turned as the hallway dead-ended and turned into Mortimer's office. Volaire and Virgil were already there, standing in front of their director’s desk. As number two on the team, Ellie took her place in between them.

  “Where is Cicero?” Mortimer asked.

  “I think he’s texting with his mother,” Ellie said, and that got a loud chuckle from Virgil. A moment later Cicero entered, his phone in his pocket, and stepped in line.

  “How’s your mother?” Mortimer asked him.

  “Sir?”

  Morimeter ignored him. “I received this earlier this today.” He handed a large photo to Voltaire. “Take a look and pass it down.”

  Voltaire took a long, expressionless glance and handed it to Ellie. The photo showed Amina and Shazia Haqqani in front of the Statue of Liberty. They were smiling, and Ellie saw something new in their eyes: hope and expectation. A new future in a new land.

  “They arrived in New York from Ramstein yesterday,” Mortimer said. “It seems that their CIA handler has a bit of a soft spot and gave in to Amina’s request to take them by Lady Liberty before getting processed with their new identities.

  Ellie studied their features. Shazia’s skin looked fresh; no longer holding that grayish, yellowish hue. Her eyes vibrant and she stood next to her mother that had shed the worry and that she possesed when Ellie had last seen in her Egypt. “Shazia, she looks good,” Ellie said.

  “The doctor’s have reported that she’s in fine shape. Cured, as far as they’re concerned.”

  Ellie smiled, glad to have a good ending to a bad story. Not every mission worked out as successfully as that one had. Collateral situations like this rarely came up, and when they did none of the members of TEAM 99 were never informed how they played out. Only Mortimer was kept in the know and he never saw fit to pass the information on. He wanted his operatives to remain focused on the mission in front of them, or preparing for the next one. He wasn’t the kind of man to offer his thanks. Still, this was as close as they were going to get, and it was a gesture he did not owe them.

  After Volatire and Cicero had their moment with the photo Mortimtere dismissed his four operatives, asking them to shut the door on their way out. Cicero’s phone reappeared in his hand and Virgil headed for the kitchen. Voltaire called out from behind Ellie. “Pascal.” She turned and waited for him. “That picture exists because of you,” he said.

  She shrugged. “Just doing my job.”

  “No. That was beyond a job description. I wouldn’t have thought to ask for citizenship for Ami
na and Shazia.” He clapped her on the shoulder. “You did good.”

  “Thanks.”

  “I think I’ve got Mortimer convinced to get with the DOJ and initiate an investigation the death of Nasir’s father. It was over ten years ago now, but if one of ours did in fact kill him in cold blood, he needs to be brought to justice. And those who kept quiet about it.”

  “Yeah, she said. “ Warfare was never cut and dry; it was Decisions that seemed easy to those behind desks in air conditioned continued rooms were filled with nuance, often laced with a heightened sense of defensiveness and fear.

  Voltaire continued down the hall to the common room as Ellie went back to her room. She shut her door and paused, looking at the American flag hanging on the wall above her desk.

  Amina and her daughter would now get the benefits of They were in the land of liberty, in the land of opportunity. No more hiding away in the deserts; no more running scared in constant fear of the misogynistic radicals surrounding her brother’s religion of hate. Now, they were free.

  Ellie returned to her bed, picking up her book and finding where she’d left as. waited for the next mission that would give her yet another chance to defend the country she loved so much.

  New to Jack Hardin?

  Ellie O’Conner has her own suspense series, set in her hometown of Pine Island, Florida. You can jump into the series by clicking the link to Silent Ripple or Broken Stern below. Throughout the series several of her former TEAM99 teammates make an appearance.