Flags of The Forgoten

by Stallcup, Heath

  The guard compared both men’s IDs to the list then handed them back. “You’ll want to pull around to the back. There’s a loading dock. Security will meet you there and escort you to where you need to be.”

  “Thanks.” Deric took both IDs back and put the van into gear. He tapped the brakes as the guard pressed the button, raising the bar blocking the road. He navigated the bulky van around the concrete barriers and felt the truck bounce as they drove over the bastions buried in the road.

  Jim leaned back in his seat and glanced out the side mirror. He keyed his coms. “We’re past the gate.”

  “Copy that. Proceed to the loading bay.” Gregg’s voice sounded static-filled over the secure channel.

  “You really think we’ll be able to pull this off?”

  Deric shrugged. “Wouldn’t be the first time a plan shit the bed.” He shot Jim a crooked grin.

  The pair pulled the truck to the rear and wasn’t surprised that two men waited for them, weapons at the ready. Deric backed the truck into the loading bay then slid the driver’s door open. He stepped out and nodded to the security officers. “Evening ‘gents.”

  Both men stared on stoically.

  Jim pulled open the rear doors of the van and they retrieved their tool belts and tool bags. Before either man left the rear of the van, the security personnel pulled their bags away and searched them. Satisfied that the bags contained non-threatening material, they stepped aside and allowed the techs to enter the loading bay.

  “The security sensors are located throughout the building. The main hub is in the basement.”

  “Lead the way.” Jim motioned with his hand.

  The guard gave him a cautious stare then stepped into the loading area. “Stay with me.” He motioned to the other man behind him and they fell into step with Deric and Jim between them.

  They were led to a freight elevator and the guards rode the lift with them to the basement. Jim gave Deric a knowing look, but the other man dismissed it.

  As they stepped off of the elevator, the lead security officer held a hand up to stop them. “Everything you do will be monitored. You will have a security officer with you at all times. Every action you take will be announced prior to initiating that action. Are we understood?”

  Jim raised a hand shyly. “What if we need to go to the bathroom?”

  The guard frowned at him. “At. All. Times. Are we understood?”

  Jim glanced to Deric and smiled. “Yeah. I’m good with an audience. You?”

  Deric sighed. “Just show us where the control systems are so we can get done and get out of here.”

  The man studied them both for a moment then turned and pushed open a steel fire door. “Along the back wall.”

  Deric tugged at the broad shoulder strap and approached the units. He dropped his tool bag on the floor and reached for a Phillips screwdriver.

  “You are to announce each step before initiating it!” The guard stepped between him and the control unit. Deric took a half step back then glanced at the other guard, who seemed to have the same make, model, and size stick shoved up his ass as well.

  “This is going to take all fucking night if you expect me to announce, ‘I’m picking up a screwdriver’ or ‘I’m going to take a reading with my multimeter’ or ‘I’m going to scratch my ass.’” He turned to Jim, who shrugged. “If I told you that I was going to check the DC convertor relay, would you have a fucking clue what I was doing?”

  The guard remained stoic, his weapon still held at the ready. Deric glanced to the other guard, who was just as statuesque. “Would you?”

  He dropped the screwdriver into the bag and motioned to Jim. “Let’s get the hell out of here. I can’t work like this.” He picked up the tool bag and pointed at the guard. “When the bosses ask tomorrow why the security system is still wonky, I want you to tell them that it’s because you wouldn’t let us do our job.”

  Jim turned and headed to the door. “We’ll send the bill for the housecall.”

  The second guard stepped into his path. “It’s protocol.”

  Deric dropped his bag again. “I don’t give two shits what your protocols are. We have a job to do and likely we’ll be going back and forth between here and the truck a dozen times before the night is over.” He pointed to the ceiling. “In case you haven’t noticed, there are six floors above us and two below. That’s an awful lot of area to cover and an awful lot of separate pieces-parts that could be screwed up. We don’t want to be here for a fucking week, if it’s all the same to you.”

  Jim stepped between Deric and the guard. “Look, fellas. It’s been a long day and we’re both tired. I’m sure you don’t want to have to babysit us anymore than we want to be babysat.” He held a hand up to prevent the guard from speaking. “How about, you stand by, do your job, let us do ours and we’ll be out of your hair quicker? I promise, if we have to do anything major, we’ll let you know.”

  “Better yet,” Deric interjected, “if we do anything that you find suspicious, just ask. We’ll be happy to explain it to you.” He sighed and gave the guard his best tired but bored look. “Just let us do our jobs.”

  The second guard nodded to the first. “Keep us apprised of your steps. We may not understand everything, but…like I said, it’s protocol.”

  “Very well.” Deric picked up the tool bag and slid it closer to the rear wall. He pulled the Phillips screwdriver again and held it up, showing it to the guard. “Screwdriver. To remove the cover so we can see the guts…”

  The man rolled his eyes and stepped back, giving the pair access.

  Jim keyed his coms covertly then turned to Deric. “This may be take a while.”

  “Copy that,” Gregg’s whispered reply hissed in his ear.

  Near Langley, VA

  * * *

  RYAN PULLED THE black Suburban to the side of the road near an empty garage and killed the engine. He nodded to Steve, who keyed his radio. “In position.”

  Gregg’s voice sounded tinny over the handheld. “Stand by fellas. Bravo one is on sight and occupied. Bravos two and three are being held up by security personnel.” He sighed and stretched his neck. “Smoke ‘em if you got ‘em fellas. It’s liable to be a long night.”

  “Great. And Jay made us wear Fed clothes,” Ryan groaned as he leaned the seat back.

  Steve pointed to the gravel road. “They should be coming through there when they arrive.”

  Ryan nodded. “Should we unlock the garage now or…”

  Steve shrugged. “I got it.” He stepped out of the SUV and made his way carefully to the garage. He pulled out the keys and opened the padlock on the front doors, pulling them slightly open.

  When he climbed back into the truck, he tossed the keys into the console. “If it were me, I’d dump those dirtbikes in the ditch and write them off.”

  Ryan shook his head. “Then they’d know they switched vehicles.” He stretched and yawned, then checked his watch. “Better to have them think that they’re stuck on two wheels a little longer.”

  Steve groaned and pulled his smart phone from his jacket pocket.

  “What are you doing?”

  He held it up and showed Ryan. “Tetris.”

  “Dude, turn that shit off. You know they can track it.”

  Steve smiled at him. “This is a burner smart phone. Pay by the month. And I put it in the NSA Deputy Director’s name, so…”

  “I swear I’m working with a twelve year old.”

  Steve nodded as he mashed the buttons. “We both do, but Gregg has skills so we keep him around.”

  Langley, VA

  * * *

  “YOU NEED A shower.”

  Darren Chesterfield turned and glared at the woman standing in his doorway. “What are you doing here? Again.”

  Brenda Weston stepped inside his office and handed him a file. “My boss wanted you to have this.”

  “What is it?” Darren tossed it to his desk, ignoring it.

  Brenda crossed her ar
ms over her chest and stared at him, one brow raised. “Why don’t you at least look at it and see for yourself.”

  Darren gave her a challenging stare then reached for the file. “Who is your boss?”

  “You don’t have the need to know.”

  He smirked at her then opened the file. Grainy pictures of Bridger and his cohorts taken from above were scattered within. “I already know what they look like.” He closed the file and tossed it aside again.

  “I’m sure you do. But do you know what they look like when they’re sneaking out of Karachi on a private jet?”

  He stiffened and turned to face her, the color draining from his face. “When?” He snatched the folder back and scattered the photos across his desk, his eyes scanning for a time and date code.

  “Yesterday. While you were having your operatives kick down the doors to our safe houses in the area…and letting all of the bad guys know where they were in the process, these guys were somewhere across the Atlantic sipping mojitos and getting blowjobs.” She crossed her arms and smiled at him smugly. “You’ll notice they brought a friend. I could be wrong, but it almost looks like Muhammed al-Abadi riding their coattails.”

  Darren collapsed in his chair then turned and glared at her. “When did you get these?”

  She shrugged. “I just got them a little bit ago. I have no idea when my boss got them.” She turned for the door and gave him a slight wave. “He just thought you’d like to know where your prime suspect and scapegoat isn’t.” She paused at the door and gave him a cute smile. “And they ‘isn’t’ in Pakistan.”

  She slipped out and left him with his guts twisted. He stared at the photos and felt his legs go weak under him. As he stared at the images, his phone began to ring. He almost didn’t answer, but he was nothing if not a creature of habit.

  “Yes?”

  “You need to be in my office five minutes ago.”

  Darren stiffened and stared at the phone. “Yes, sir. I’ll be there in a moment, Colonel.”

  Karachi, Pakistan

  * * *

  BASSIM AL-AHMED paced the small office of Asma Abu Faqir, tossing items aside and upending the furniture as he ranted. “Never trust a woman!”

  One of his men grunted as he carried the large canvas duffels into the office and dumped them to the floor. “She had gold.”

  Bassim tore open the tops and peered inside. “Not nearly equal to what we paid her.”

  “Surely she will tell you where the money is.” The man smiled under his mask.

  Bassim kicked her chair away and pushed the few remaining items from the top of her desk. He sat down heavily and stroked the AK-47 strapped across his shoulder. “I should have killed her when she missed the first deadline.”

  The minion leaned against the doorjamb. “I believe she is still breathing. We could wake her.”

  Bassim pushed off of the desk and brushed past his man. “Where is she?”

  “The kitchen.” The minion fell into step behind him. The pair stepped over the bodies of her bodyguards and hired help.

  Bassim entered the kitchen and had to watch his step to keep from slipping in the blood pooled on the tile floor. “Wake her!”

  The man standing over Asma’s body pointed at her with his bloody knife. “She stopped screaming a while ago. I’m not sure she still lives.”

  Bassim spit on his hand and held it to her face. He waited a moment then nodded to the man with the knife. “She breathes. That means she lives. WAKE HER!”

  The man turned and dug through a small bag. He pulled out a glass vial and cracked it then waved it under her nose.

  Asma coughed and gagged and turned her head from the ammonia salts. Her hand went to her abdomen and she pressed into the blood soaked gown. The scream that followed would have given a normal man chills, but Bassim was no normal man; he took great pleasure in inventing painful ways for others to die.

  He jerked her head up by the hair and turned her eyes to his. “Where is the money?”

  Asma’s mouth opened and closed a few times but no words formed. Her eyes fluttered and Bassim shook her head, bouncing it off of the stainless steel prep table. “I asked you a question! Where is my money?”

  “Bassim!” He looked up to see one of his men holding a phone. “Her banks are on this.”

  Bassim took the phone and scrolled through the apps. “Which one has my money?”

  Asma’s eyes rolled back and her head lulled to the side. Bassim shook with rage then pointed to the man with the knife again. “Bring her back.”

  He waved the salts under her nose again but Asma lay still. The man pressed the ammonia salts directly into her bloody nostril, yet the woman didn’t move. He looked up to Bassim and shook his head. “She is gone.”

  Bassim yelled and held the phone high above his head, about to throw it when it chimed again. He squeezed the black box in his hand, wanting to crush it to powder when it chimed again. Then again. And again.

  He lowered the phone and pressed the button, bringing the screen to life once more. He scrolled through the notifications and saw the emails sent from an unknown sender.

  Out of curiosity, he punched the button and opened the documents. As his eyes scanned the content, his face twisted first in rage, then in confusion. He stepped back from the bloody body and stepped down into the family room.

  His eyes continued to scan the documents while his men gathered around. “What is it, Bassim?”

  “What are you reading?”

  Bassim lowered the phone and turned slowly, his face unreadable. “The Americans did this.”

  25

  Langley, VA

  * * *

  DERIC WALKED BACK out to the truck for the fifth…or was it the sixth time? He sighed heavily as he dug through the rear boxes, his escort standing just feet behind him. “I know I’ve said this more than once but if you want to take a smoke break, feel free.”

  The guard ignored him and continued to stare at him, his face unreadable behind the dark tinted sunglasses. He keyed his coms and stated the obvious. “Ya know, these Cerberus Security guys are real assholes.”

  Gregg chuckled in his ear. “You’re sounding like a broken record.”

  Deric sighed again and pulled a plastic crate toward him. He dug through it then crawled into the back of the truck. He opened the steel door separating the rear of the truck with the mid portion of the cargo area. The guard stiffened and stepped forward, his weapon trained on him as he shifted items near the door. When Deric stepped back through carrying a black box, the guard kept his weapon trained on him, his stance obviously at the ready.

  Deric paused and glared at the man. He lowered the box and gave the man a hateful sneer. “I’m this close to calling my buddy back and getting the hell out of Dodge.” He hopped down, slid the electronic device across the floor of the truck, and flipped it open, showing the guard the innards.

  “I swear to Christ, you pull this GI Joe bullshit with me again and I’m leaving you here with your dick in your hand.”

  “It’s protocol—”

  “We’ve had this discussion!” Deric yelled, his brows knitting together in anger. “If you want your security systems back up and running, then you have got to stop advancing on us every time we reach for a fucking tool kit!” He jabbed his finger at the man, tempting him to do something stupid.

  “What’s the problem?”

  Both men turned to see a Cerberus uniformed man standing in the rear doorway. Deric picked up the black box and glared at the guard. “I’m not sure. Is there a problem out here?”

  The guard stepped back, his face stoic. “No problem, sir.”

  Deric pulled the door shut on the truck and turned for the door of the building. “I’m serious man. Knock off the SEAL act or I’m pulling the plug on your repairs.”

  The guard said nothing as they stepped back into the dimly lit hallway.

  Deric used the moment to reiterate his aggravation. “You’d think that with all of the vett
ing that our company went through just to have access to these systems they’d call off the dogs long enough for us to complete a fucking work order.” He hefted the heavy box up the short flight of stairs and turned for the elevator at the end of the hall. “But no. It’s bad enough we have to come out here after working hours, but we can’t even take a piss without one of you fellas up our ass, checking our prostate.” The guard mashed the call button for the elevator and Deric continued to fume.

  As the doors opened he stepped inside then turned to the guard. “Tell me this, Rambo. If they want to be so damned paranoid, why didn’t they invite one of their IT guys to be present while we made the repairs? I mean, you guys don’t know shit about these systems, right? You know how to clear an alarm, and I’m sure somewhere there’s an idiot in a chair watching our every move over a monitor, but seriously…if we wanted to, we could install a Trojan horse into your system and you’d never know it.”

  The doors opened and Deric stepped back into the basement hallway, the box bouncing against his thigh as he carried it to the workstation. “It really beats the dogshit out of me why they don’t have knowledgeable people on site while we try to fix this fuckfest.”

  The guard pushed the steel security door open and Deric lugged the heavy box to the workbench. He set it down hard and flipped the top open. “As requested.”

  Jim looked at the box then gave Deric a wide eyed stare. “Seriously? You brought the P204? We need the 480 for this system. It’s all based on a 128 algorithm.”

  Deric stared at him blankly. “Are you fucking serious?” He groaned and turned his back to the workbench, leaning against it hard. “Do you realize that Rambo here nearly shot me when I picked up this one?” He shook his head and slapped at the bench in mock frustration. “I’m not getting shot over a piece of fucking gear.”