Black Operations- the Spec-Ops Action Pack

by Eric Meyer

  “Was it a fair chewing out, Chief? Sometimes we all need some plain talking.”

  “No, it wasn’t. She was doing her best.”

  “Good. So everything is straightforward, and you know what to do.”

  “What the hell is that? It’s not clear to me, and as I said, she won’t even be interested in talking to me.”

  “Not if you carry on with that line of bullshit she won’t, no.”

  “Sir?”

  The surgeon sighed. “Okay, I’ll lay it all out for you. You never had a row with someone you love, said something you didn’t mean?”

  “Of course, yes, but…”

  “And that was it, was it? The end of the relationship.”

  “No, but…”

  “So you go to her, Chief, and admit you behave like a horse’s ass. Thank her for everything she’s done.”

  “Yes, but…”

  “And when that arm I spent so much of my time and expertise fixing is fully recovered, get out and find that bastard who’s causing you so much grief, and finish him for good. Deep six the bastard! I think that covers everything, was there anything else?”

  “No, Sir.”

  “Good. Now take care of that arm until it’s fully recovered.”

  “Yes, Sir.”

  The following day they docked in San Diego. Talley had taken notes of everything that related to Nolan’s part in the mission so that he could be spared attending the mission debrief and take care of both his arm and his personal affairs. Nolan tried to call Carol Summers that first afternoon, but the SFPD told him she’d taken some leave. It rocked him to think that she’d taken off at a time like this, so maybe the surgeon had been wrong. But he put the thought out of his mind and called the grandparents. John Robson answered his call.

  “Kyle, how are things with you? When did you get back?”

  “A couple of hours ago. I’m good. I’ve got some leave, so I’ll come up and see you and the kids.”

  “What happened?”

  “What do you mean, what happened?”

  “You only get leave when you’re hurt, Kyle. Grace always told us that, and it worried her sick.”

  “Oh, it’s nothing, just a broken arm.”

  “If you say so. Don’t come up now, you’ve only just got back. Make it sometime tomorrow.”

  In the end, he agreed. His head was still woozy after the morphine, and provided he stayed off it, he’d be okay to drive after a night’s sleep. He unpacked his bag and looked out the window at his Camaro.

  How will it be driving one-handed? Well, I’ll have to manage.

  He felt lonely in the echoing, empty house. The kids were away, and even Carol Summers had gone off somewhere on vacation.

  Great!

  He needed company, so he picked up his keys, left the house, and started the Camaro. As he backed out of the drive, he clipped a small bush that marked the end of his neighbor’s garden. He knew he’d have to give it a miss tonight. Besides, if he’d gone to Popeye’s that would have meant a couple of beers, minimum, and the doc had warned him to stay off the sauce until he was clear of any morphine in his system. He carefully drove the car back to its space, went into the house, grabbed a soda from the icebox, and watched a repeat of one of last season’s baseball games. He never saw the end, just woke up cold and in pain at two in the morning. But he resisted the urge to down a couple of morphine tablets. He needed his head clear to drive to San Francisco, and to do what needed to be done. He slept little after that, and by nine he was on the road. The journey of more than five hundred miles took him seven hours. Thankfully, the Smokey Bears were taking a break that day.

  He knocked on the door of the Robson’s vacation bungalow outside of San Francisco. Violet came to the door and invited him in.

  “We’re so glad to see you, Kyle. How did you manage to drive with your arm in a plaster cast?”

  “No problems, Violet. Where are the kids?”

  “They’re out back, playing. Have you had anything to eat?”

  “Yes, I’m fine,” he lied. He’d lashed up a breakfast that morning and left in a hurry, only stopping to buy gas.

  “I’ll make sure I do something you’ll enjoy for dinner. I’m sure you’ll be hungry again. I’ll make it a little earlier than usual, traveling can be so tiring, especially when you’re hurt.”

  He smiled at her. She didn’t fool easy and knew damn well he hadn’t eaten in some time. Some women had that kind of built-in radar.

  “That’d be nice, Violet. I’ll go out back and see the kids.”

  He walked through the hallway, into the kitchen and out the back door, straight into Carol Summers. They stared at each other for a few moments. He was struck dumb, utterly astonished, for one of the few times in his life. Right there and then, his feelings for her were powerful, intense. And he felt so damned stupid.

  “Carol, I, er…I’ve been, er,” he struggled to remember what the surgeon had said. “I’ve been a horse’s ass. I’m sorry.”

  She grinned broadly. “Nothing to apologize for, Kyle. You’ve just been you, and I wouldn’t expect anything else.”

  She stood waiting, and slowly, hesitantly, he stepped forward and reached for her. Then they were in each other’s arms. He tasted her lips, smelled the fragrance of her, touched her skin, and knew that somehow Grace was smiling down on him.

  “You want to say hi to the kids?” she said as she pulled her lips away from his.

  “What? Oh, yeah, what am I thinking? Of course I do.”

  The afternoon and evening passed in a blur. The kids were wonderful, excited to see him, yet happy with their surprise vacation at their grandparents’ house. They were used to him being away, he could see that, and took his return quite naturally, just as they understood he’d be going off again.

  “When are you going back to work, Daddy?” Mary asked him. Albeit a little sadly.

  “Not for a long time, darling, several weeks. I’ll be staying with you for some time.”

  “That’s wonderful. Are you going to kill those nasty men?”

  He looked around the table, at Carol, and John and Violet, at Daniel, then tried to formulate a reply for a young girl.

  “We’re going to deal with that, Mary. You won’t have to worry about it.”

  He tried to think of something to add, but Carol answered for him.

  “You bet your bottom dollar your Dad’s going to kill them, pumpkin. He just doesn’t want to upset you.”

  “It doesn’t upset me, Carol, or Daniel. We want them to be dead.”

  “People like that don’t deserve to live,” Daniel said angrily. “I’d kill them if I had a gun,” he went on, looking at his father.

  “You’re right, Son. People like that don’t deserve to live. But no more talk of killing. I’ll deal with it, don’t worry.”

  That night he shared a bed with Carol. It worried him slightly. After all, they were in the home of Grace’s parents. She understood at once why he was quiet.

  “It’s okay, Kyle. Everything’s fine. They don’t want you and the kids grieving for all time.”

  “Yeah, they’re good people. I have to get Rivera, though, or there’ll be more to grieve about.”

  “We’ll get Rivera, don’t worry. For now, let’s just enjoy each other.”

  The following morning, he wanted to call up the surgeon and thank him for showing him the way. They’d made love, gently and tenderly, so as not to injure his arm. And they’d talked until late into the night, until almost the lighter tendrils of dawn began to lace their bedroom with patterns of shadow.

  “I thought you hated me,” he whispered.

  “I did,” she replied in a joking tone. “But you were on a mission, and I understand how difficult it must have been for you.”

  She was silent for a few moments. And then she continued.

  “There was someone, wherever you were. I felt as if,” she paused to gather her thoughts, “as if your mind was on someone else.”


  He told her about Gracia, wanting to hold back nothing from this extraordinary girl who’d given so much to look after his family.

  “Did you love her?”

  He knew what she was asking, and why.

  “I don’t know. We were up against an army of fighters who wanted to kill us, and she did her utmost to help us. I just don’t know. But what I do know is that I’m here, right now, with you. And the kids are safe. I feel happier than I’ve felt in a long time.”

  She pulled him to her. “If that’s the best I can get, it’ll have to do. I’m not complaining. But next time you go off to some foreign battlefield, keep your mind on the job, and stay away from any dusky maidens you may come across.”

  “Copy that, Ma’am. It’s a promise.”

  Over breakfast Nolan felt a warm glow, looking at his kids happy and relaxed, Carol glowing with a natural beauty and contentment, and the grandparents looking on with satisfied smiles on their faces. He knew he’d have to start working on the thorny problem of Manuel Rivera before too long, but at least for a small amount of time, he could relax in the company of those he loved, and who loved him.

  “What about a picnic today?” Carol asked, interrupting his thoughts. “We could pack a hamper and take off into the hills.”

  The kids jumped up and down with excitement. Violet shook her head.

  “You guys go off and enjoy yourselves. You don’t need us.”

  “Sure we do,” she replied.

  But they wouldn’t be persuaded, and after breakfast, Carol took herself off to the market to pick up supplies while Kyle played in the garden with the kids. She returned with a box full of food and started to prepare their packed lunch. Then they set off and enjoyed one of the best days out Kyle had experience in a long, long time. The sun shone, the kids played, and he felt like a lovesick teenager walking hand in hand with Carol. Finally, they had to return to the Robson’s for dinner. When they walked into the house, Nolan asked to use the phone.

  “I just need to call in to Coronado.”

  Carol overheard him and gave him a sharp glance. “You’re not working at present. You’re supposed to be sick,” she objected. “They can take care of themselves.”

  He shrugged. “It’s something I always do, and I need to find out if there’s any news.”

  It took an unusually long time for him to be patched through to the Platoon office, and the Navy telephone operator went through a long checklist of identification checks. Some sort of flap on, the brass called them from time to time, to make sure everyone was on their toes. Usually, the operator recognized his voice and put him straight through, but not this time.

  “Talley.”

  “Hey, Boss, this is Chief Nolan checking in. Are you in the middle of some kind of drill?”

  “It’s not a drill, Chief. We’ve got trouble down here.”

  “In Coronado? Inside the base?”

  “More to do with our personnel. Carl Winters got hit.”

  “Jesus Christ, how did it happen?”

  “He finished a drink in Popeye’s, came out, and started his car. Two guys came along on a motorcycle, and the passenger poked a MAC-10 through the driver’s window and gave him a full clip.”

  So there was no need to ask if he was dead, it was forgone.

  “Do you know who did it?”

  “The local gas station attendant sold them gas for their vehicle. He was originally from Honduras, and he recognized their accent. They were Colombians.”

  So it had started, the revenge for the raid on Salazar’s operation.

  “They were quick.”

  “Yeah, our intel people reckon they were already planning to hit us for the previous operation, so they were in place and waiting for us as soon as we got back. But it wasn’t just Carl. One of our people is missing. Roscoe Bremmer. They snatched him, poor bastard.”

  “I’ll come back,” Nolan said at once.

  “No, there’s no need. We’ve got a lead. Intel decrypted some of the stuff we brought back from Colombia. Apparently, Salazar bought a few thousand acres of woodland up near San Francisco, somewhere south of Lake Tahoe. It’s a pretty good bet that’s where they’ve taken Roscoe. The link to their place was well hidden under more layers of encryption, so we still don’t have the exact location. We’ve sent the files to the NSA at Fort Meade, and hopefully, they’ll be able to cut through the crap and give us an address. In the meantime, stay right where you are. You were closer to the action than we were, and it’s likely they’ll come after your family next.”

  “You’ll let me know if anything changes?”

  “Of course. Just take care of them.”

  He put the receiver down and went in to speak to Carol and the Robsons.

  “I’ll stay here for as long as necessary,” Carol said immediately. “No way are these bastards going to win.”

  He smiled his thanks and looked at Violet and John. “I’m sorry for bringing this trouble on you. We can always move out and look for somewhere where they won’t find us so easily.”

  “Nonsense!” Violet said, and her husband nodded. “Those children need us to care for them, now that Grace is gone. You stay here until it’s all over.”

  “Thanks, I can’t say how much I appreciate that.”

  “We’re family, Kyle, and that’s all you need to know. Listen, after dinner, why not take Carol and the kids to the local mall? There’s a multiplex cinema, and you’ll be able to take your minds off this dreadful business for a short time at least.”

  “Yeah, that sounds good. Carol?”

  “I love a good movie. Shall I tell the kids?”

  He nodded, and she walked off to find them. Dinner was a mix between the adults’ somber realization that they were now the number one target of an active revenge operation, and the kids’ excitement about going to the movies.

  They enjoyed it, buckets of popcorn and enough soda to water a horse, despite the movie being below par. But the kids liked it. Nolan drove them home in his Camaro. He’d refused point blank to let Carol take the wheel. When they got back, the house was blazing with lights, and the television was on loud in the living room.

  “John, Violet, we’re back.”

  There was no answering shout, and Kyle went through to find them. There was no sign of either of them, just the TV on loud, and an upturned chair. Carol came into the room.

  “Where are they?”

  He shook his head. “I’ve no idea. They may have been taken.”

  She picked up the phone.

  “Who are you calling?”

  “The local SFPD. Whatever you think about the local cops, they need to be informed. They may have some leads, you never know, and I’ll talk to them about the possible location of Rivera’s hideout near Lake Tahoe.”

  She talked at length, and then minutes later the local sheriff knocked on the door with four deputies and a scene of crime technician. He shook hands and introduced himself.

  “I’m Sheriff J T Pollen, and I run the local law enforcement in these parts.” He was obese with a large gut hanging over his wide leather belt, which hung at a steep angle from the weight of the Colt .45 in his holster. He also had the rounded, red face and veined nose of a habitual heavy drinker. “I gather you think these good people were kidnapped?”

  They showed him the scene that had greeted them when they returned from the movies. Kyle went on to explain about the Colombian vendetta. The Sheriff looked dubious.

  “So this is the reason so many of my people have been doing extra time, this, Colombian thing? Surely, it could be something simple. They could have just gone out.”

  “And the upturned chair, the television turned up?” Carol reminded him.

  Pollen shrugged. “Maybe an accident, or they had a row, something like that. It happens.”

  He nodded at his crime scene tech. “Chuck, take a look around. See if you come up with anything. You guys,” he signaled to his deputies hovering in the background. “Talk to the neighbors. S
ee what you can come up with.”

  He looked at Kyle and Carol again. “I’m due back for a meeting with the Mayor, so I have to go. If they’ve been taken, we’ll do our best to find them. But I think it’s likely there’s a more innocent explanation.”

  Nolan was about to argue with him and try and make the man see sense, but Carol smoothly intercepted. “Thank you, Sheriff, we really appreciate what you’re doing.”

  Nolan stood transfixed with amazement.

  After everything they’ve gone through, the fool is writing it off to something simple!

  “Kyle, there’s no need to antagonize him,” Carol said when he’d gone. “We may need him. You never know.”

  “What the hell could we possible need from that idiot?” Nolan almost shouted in exasperation.

  “We could need the help of his deputies. We just don’t know. He may have access to a helicopter. It could be anything. Why alienate him?”

  Nolan muttered a reluctant agreement. “So what’re we doing next? I guess I’d better call Coronado. They need to know about this.”

  Before she could answer, the phone rang. He picked it up, hoping for news about John and Violet.

  “Hello?”

  “Mr. Nolan?”

  He was instantly alert. The voice was unmistakably South American.

  “Yes. Who is this?”

  “Never mind who it is. Do you want your children’s grandparents returned unharmed?”

  “Of course I do. What do you want?”

  “We want you, Mr. Nolan. Write this down. I will not repeat it.”

  He recited a list of map coordinates, and Nolan jotted them down.

  “It is a forest track twenty miles south of Lake Tahoe. Very isolated. We will make the exchange there. You may bring one person to drive these people home. You will stay with us. Our boss wishes to speak with you. When you arrive, flash your lights three times. When you see the answering flash, get out of the car, and walk towards the lights. When you have reached us, we will release the grandparents.”

  “What time will this take place?”

  “At two hours after midnight, Senor Nolan. And if we see any cops, we kill the prisoners. I warn you. We have night vision equipment, and we are well armed, so do not try any tricks.”