“The nerve.” He stopped and stared out of his window, the tracks from the dirt bikes still scarring the ground below. “And then leave…on motorcycles?” He chuckled to himself at the simplicity of the operation.
Still, how did that third man enter the building? He hadn’t stowed away in the service vehicle which has given them exactly zero clues to their actual location. He hadn’t crept in during a previous shift. Or had he?
Darren sat back at his desk and gulped more of the cold black coffee. He switched on his screen and went through the entry/exit logs for the past four days. Nothing stood out and nothing went unaccounted for except for an old digital camera left out in an office. The person assigned to the office had never seen it before…or so he claims. At least the security chief had done that part of his job correctly.
He switched his computer to the security feeds and scanned the black and white images. “How the fuck did you get in?” Darren muttered to himself as he flipped between the different security cameras. “It’s not like you crawled in through an open window…” Darren paused and glanced at his window.
“Surely not…” Darren picked up the phone and called the security office. “I’m heading up. This is just a notification.” He came to his feet and pushed his way out of his office.
He ignored the comments and looks from his coworkers as he headed to the stairwell. Darren felt every step as he made his way upward. Once he reached the roof level he paused at the top of the stairs to catch his breath. “This sleepless thing takes more out of you than you’d think.”
He pushed open the steel security door and stepped out onto the roof. Immediately his phone notified him of the sensor alert. He clicked the alert, muting his phone and he stepped away from the door. His eyes scanned the rooftop and he shook his head. “What the hell was I thinking?”
He turned to walk back in when the noise of something flapping in the breeze caught his attention. Darren looked around the roof but saw nothing. He stepped to the side of the roof access and heard the noise again.
His eyes scanned upward and he caught what looked like a nylon string hanging from the roof of the access. He reached up and barely was able to touch the nylon. He hooked it with his finger and tugged.
Slowly, the silky material slid from the rooftop, small rocks rolling away with it. He pulled the material to him and held it, his mind refusing to connect the dots.
“Sir?”
Darren turned and saw the security officer standing at the corner. “Yeah.” Darren tugged the rest of the material down from the roof access and scooped it up into his arms. “Your men searched the roof earlier, didn’t they?”
The security officer shrugged. “I would assume so.” He stepped back and eyed the cloth in his arms. “What is that?”
“It’s a fucking parachute.” Darren marched past the man, dragging the harness behind him.
“A parachute?”
“This is how the third man got in; it’s also why he didn’t have to crawl through the entire building to get to the floor he needed.” Darren froze at the door and rolled his eyes. “The digital camera. Son of a bitch!”
“What camera?” The security officer pulled the door shut and rushed to catch up with him. “What camera are you talking about?”
Darren wadded the silk up tighter in his arms and ignored the man. He walked across the fifth floor hallway until he reached Colonel Nelson’s office. He “knocked” with his foot then pushed the door open.
“I was about to say…what is that?” Nelson slowly rose from his chair.
“This is how the third man entered.” Darren dumped the chute onto the floor and stepped aside. “And security found an old digital camera on this floor.” He crossed his arms and smirked at the officer across from him. “Three guesses who used both this and the camera.”
Nelson sat back down and eyed Darren carefully. “You realize what this means, don’t you?”
Darren nodded. “It’s the end of my career.”
Colonel Nelson chuckled and shook his head. “What did I say about giant fuck ups?”
“That’s for people on the fast track. People like me who are struggling to get ON the track? We get plowed over.”
Nelson leaned back in his chair and smiled. “We’ll see.” He pointed to the parachute in his office floor. “Get rid of that and get an IT guy on the computer that they accessed. We need to know exactly what they got.”
Darren hefted the harness and tugged the material and static lines back into his grip. “We know what they got, Colonel. The real question is what are they going to do with it.”
CIA Director’s Office, Langley, VA
* * *
“THINGS ARE STARTING to fall apart.” Assistant Director Ingram sat down across from the older man. “Just like you predicted.”
“That is my job, Robert.” Director Jameson leaned back in his overstuffed leather chair and crossed his legs. “I told you we could get this done in record time and as usual, I was right.”
Ingram fought the smile that tugged at the corners of his mouth. “My guy on the inside says that Chesterfield is running himself ragged trying to avoid the inevitable.”
“That, too, is to be expected.” Director Jameson reached for the bottle of scotch behind his desk and poured two short glasses. “I know it’s a bit early, but I really think we should toast your upcoming promotion.”
Robert stood and took his glass, hefting it in toast then took a short pull from the amber liquid. “Smooth.”
“Yes, it is. Twenty year old single malt. Only the best.” Jameson sipped from his glass then set it down gently on the corner of his desk. “So, why are you really here?”
Robert shifted uncomfortably in his seat. “I, uh, was curious. What if Chesterfield pulls it off?”
Jameson shook his head. “Doesn’t matter.” He leaned forward and eyed the younger man carefully. “You see, that’s the glory of this plan, Robert. Even if this low level nitwit salvages his precious operation, the damage will be done. Once word hits the hill that this operation took place without the consent of the Secretary of Defense, your boss will be hung out to dry.”
Robert nodded, understanding fully the ramifications of their operation. “Yes, but…there are rumors.”
“Of?”
He cleared his throat and took another sip of the scotch. “I’m hearing that Bridger and his crew may have gotten their hands on certain documents that…” he trailed off, unsure that he wanted to explain the entire situation to the man.
William Jameson held a hand up, stopping him. “I’ve heard these same rumors. In fact, I believe there was an internal memo coming from within the agency…” He leaned across his desk and punched the keyboard of his computer, bringing the screen to life. “Ah, yes. Here it is. We had a break in, didn’t we?” His smile broadened.
“And this doesn’t worry you?”
“Why should it? They didn’t get anything except what we wanted them to get.” Jameson shook his head and closed the screen. “All roads lead to Rome, so to speak.”
Ingram felt his hand shaking and set the glass down. “I’m hearing that they used the computers to access files that they already had.” He eyed the man warily. “Files that were pulled prior to our changing them.”
William Jameson continued to rock in his chair, his eyes never leaving Ingram’s. “What are you saying, Robert?”
“I’m saying that the doctored files that we planted in the system weren’t accessed. They’re still sitting there waiting to be pulled.”
Jameson shrugged. “Then we wait. We have deniability either way.” He stood slowly and stretched his back. “You see, Robert, if they release the files…even the original files, we can claim that they’ve been altered and then we can pull our copies for a comparison. Since ours come from our own internal servers, they will be deemed original and theirs will be declared fakes.” He held his hands up. “Easy peasy.”
Ingram blew his breath out hard. “Director Aiken
s is a good man. I hate to—”
“Don’t tell me you’re still nursing a conscience, Robert.” Jameson walked around his desk and sat on the corner, his eyes boring a hole into the top of the younger man’s head. “You were fine with this plan of operation before we ever laid the groundwork. Any misgivings should have been left at the door long ago. We can’t be having you get cold feet now.”
Robert shook his head. “I’m not. I mean…I still want the job.”
“Then I don’t see the problem.”
Ingram inhaled deeply and blew it out slowly. “I just wish there was another way to do it without ruining his career.”
Jameson laughed and slapped the man on the shoulder. “Oh, my, Robert. You truly don’t know how things work on the hill, do you?” He sat back down at his seat and steepled his fingers together. “Aikens will most likely be shown the door and in a few short months, he’ll be right back but at a position much higher. Oh, there will still be upward momentum to be had. Hell, in a few years, he might well be the Secretary of Defense.” He groaned inwardly. “Or worse.”
“You really don’t think that this will lead to ruination?”
Jameson shook his head. “Quite the opposite. Think back to all of the politicians and players that truly stepped in it only to be back a few weeks later with even more power.” He shook his head again. “No, once you’ve made it to the inside track, you’re always on the inside track.”
Ingram sat back and finished his drink. “I hope you’re right.”
“Of course I’m right,” Jameson huffed as he poured another scotch. “I’m the director of the C.I fucking A!”
Houston, TX
* * *
ALI BIN-HAMZA hung up the phone and took a deep breath. “We are active.” He turned to the others gathered in the small apartment and smiled. “Our brothers need us to find a traitor here in the states. He ran off with the infidels rather than face up to his acts.”
The men all murmured their excitement and waited for Ali to tell them more. “They will be sending us information on the men. Our best computer people are already searching for them.”
“Are they near here or will we be traveling?”
Ali turned to the babyfaced man and shrugged. “We do not know yet. Only that we are to prepare and be ready to do what needs doing.”
Another man stepped forward. “The fax machine.” He pointed to the corner.
Ali stepped to the corner of the room and scooped the papers from the desk. “This is our traitor, Muhammed al-Abadi.” He held the image of the little arms dealer up for them all to see. “And these are the infidels who removed him and brought him here.” He held up the images of the Baba Yaga group.
“There is another.” The babyfaced man held up the sheet of paper. “And he is not far from here.” He waved the paper above his head. “Bridger.”
29
Dallas, TX
* * *
“WE’RE STOPPING BY the hangar first. We have gear to load,” Jay yelled over the loud exhaust of their panel truck.
Bridger leaned closer. “Wait, I thought the hangar was your home turf. You got another place I don’t know about?”
Jay smiled broadly and pointed to Deric. “D bought a place a few years back. Got into serious survivalist mode…”
“Kind of like you.” Deric clapped Bobby on the shoulder. “Except I grew out of it. You doubled down.” He laughed as he leaned back in his seat and high-fived Jim.
Bobby groaned and turned back to Jay. “So we’re going into hiding?”
“Quite the contrary.” Jay slammed a magazine home in his modified AR10 and racked a round. “That’s our home turf.”
Slippy leaned in and nodded to Bobby. “The president has Camp David, we have Camp Deric.”
“So it’s a resort?”
Gregg shook his head. “We train there. CQB, assaults, weapons and tactics…”
“Beer pong!” Steve shouted. “Don’t forget the beer pong.”
Gregg smiled broadly. “And we drink a lot out there and do stupid shit with firearms and explosives. You’ll fit right in.”
Bobby groaned and slumped in his seat. “You gotta be kidding me.”
Jay patted his arm. “Don’t let them get to you. It’s secure, it’s wired, and it’s pretty much equipped. We just need to swing by the hangar and pick up a few items that we’ve neglected to resupply.”
“We’ll be in and out in no time,” Jim added. He leaned forward and tapped Viktor on the sleeve. He uttered something in Russian and Viktor nodded.
“We have plenty. Just don’t forget the vodka.”
Jim gave him a thumbs up. “We’re good. Viktor already did the shopping.”
“What are we picking up?” Bobby asked, unsure he truly wanted the answer.
Jay shook his head. “Just supplies.” He glanced toward the rear window of the panel truck once again to make sure they weren’t being followed. “We’re going to let Viktor take the truck and lead away anybody who’s watching the hangar. Marcus and Ryan will hang back and defend the airport if necessary. Hopefully nobody has put two and two together and realize what Deric’s place is until it’s too late.”
Bobby groaned and laid his head back. This shit storm just got a whole lot messier.
Langley, VA
“I DON’T SEE any other way.” Agent Darren Chesterfield paced nervously in Colonel Nelson’s office. “The only way to ensure that they don’t release what they’ve found is to eliminate them. Entirely.”
Colonel Nelson slowly shook his head. “You’re going about this all wrong.” He leaned back in his chair and eyed the young man who seemed about to come undone. “You don’t want to send in a wetwork team on this.”
Darren spun and glared at the man wildly. “Oh, yes, I do.” He began ticking items off on his fingers. “They escaped Pakistan without us having a fucking clue where they were. They no sooner arrived back in the states and they broke in here…here! They have an inside man with the FBI feeding them classified documents. They may well have stolen a copy of our encryption protocols. They’re wanted by every federal agency and even a few international ones by now…” He spun and pointed a finger at the man. “The only thing that will keep people like me from prison is if these assholes are dead.”
Colonel Nelson stood up and sighed. “You’re failing to see the bigger picture here, son.” He placed a gently hand on the man’s shoulder. “You really should get some sleep. Take a shower. Put on some fresh clothes.” He lifted his hand and looked at it. “You’re beginning to smell, Darren.”
Chesterfield gave him a wide eyed stare. “The world is about to crumble around us and you want me to take a shower?”
Colonel Nelson nodded. “You need to relax. We’ve got the best people on the job.” He walked toward his door and pulled it open. “Go home Chesterfield. Get some sleep. Your mind will work much better once it’s rested.”
Darren staggered toward the door. “There’s no way I could sleep. I’m wound too tight.” He reached for the door, wanting to close it but the Colonel held it tightly. “I need to stay on top of this.”
“Trust me. There’s not much they can do in the time it would take you to recharge your batteries.” He practically pushed the young man from his office. “Take a Xanax, grab a night’s sleep. You’ll be better able to think this through if you do.”
Darren trudged out of the office and into the hallway. He was so tired that he wasn’t sure which direction to go. He made his way back to his office and sat on the couch facing the window. He glanced around but his mind simply couldn’t focus.
“Maybe just a quick power nap.” He lay down and closed his eyes.
Sleep hit him like a hammer.
Near Multan, Pakistan
* * *
MAMOON’S EYES POPPED open and he stared out the windshield and into the dark sky. “Where are we?”
“Approaching Multan.” Balil tapped the gas nozzle then placed it back at the rusty old pump. He
reached into his pocket and pulled out a handful of wadded bills. He handed them to the boy and patted his head as he ran inside to pay.
Mamoon rubbed at his eyes and sat up in the car. “We are in Punjab already?”
“Yes. We will be safe shortly.” Balil checked his cell phone and tapped a quick text to his sister. “They are ready for us.”
Mammon groaned as he rolled down the window, allowing the chill air to help wake him. “I do not know how safe we will be. Everybody believes that we are responsible.”
Balil shook his head as the boy ran back out and handed him his change. “I’ve been listening to the radio. They are still looking for Muhammed al-Abadi. There are reports that he fled the country with Americans.”
“Bah. I do not believe that. Muhammed is far too smart to work with the Americans.”
Balil hiked a brow at him. “Nobody said that he was working with them. Merely that there are reports that he left with them.” He turned the screwdriver shoved into the Toyota’s ignition and the car belched to life. “They may have taken him.”
Mamoon shook his head. “Then we are sunk.” He glanced nervously out of the window and felt the eyes of a thousand unseen people staring at him. “The early reports claimed we were responsible. Once they cannot find Muhammed, they will turn their attention back to us.”
Balil pulled the shifter into gear and pulled away from the pumps. “That is why we will lay low and wait for this to blow over.” He drove down the dusty street, his eyes constantly scanning for police or military vehicles. “My sister, she works a bakery. We can earn our keep there.”
Flags of The Forgoten Page 26
