by Spell, David
“Congratulations, Colonel,” Jay said, breaking the silence, as they watched the plane’s lights disappear into the sky. “That was a well-run mission. It was almost as good as something the SEALs might’ve done.”
Clark laughed. “Thanks, Walker. I’ll take that as high praise. It really did go smoothly and you guys were great. It was almost like we knew what we were doing!”
A black Yukon approached and stopped next to the warriors. The driver’s window went down and Shaun Taylor stuck his head out.
“Sorry I missed meeting the prince, but can I give you gents a ride?”
As they climbed into the vehicle, Kevin leaned close to Jay. “If you ever get bored working for the CDC, I’m sure I could find a place for you in operations.”
“I’ll keep that in mind. Thanks, Colonel.”
40,000 feet, Saturday, 1500 hours
The cabin of the CIA’s Learjet 45 was quiet as the nine men slept, the plane crossing the country at five hundred and ten miles an hour. All of the men were physically and emotionally spent from the pace of the last couple of weeks. Every seat reclined and the warriors wasted no time in making use of the four and a half hour flight to get a start catching up on their sleep.
Raul Gonzalez was also aboard the jet, heading back to CIA Headquarters for reassignment. Gordo had very likely blown his cover on the mission to snatch Rishad and he could not take a chance on returning to his apartment. The CIA agent had left nothing behind but some clothes, having packed his few important possessions in his backpack and computer bag. Such was life with the Agency, he had thought before falling asleep.
A large television monitor was mounted on the front bulkhead, the volume muted, the passengers not interested in hearing the latest news from Mexico. If they had been, they would have been amused by the narrative that both the Mexican and the American governments were spinning. The attractive blonde reporter smiled at the camera and started speaking as soon as her producer, standing behind the camera, nodded at her.
“This is Becky Wells in Rosarito, Mexico, covering this breaking story. Behind me, you can see a beautiful mansion, allegedly owned by the notorious crime lord and leader of the Tijuana Cartel, Jose ‘Pepe’ Corona. This mansion was the scene of a deadly shootout early yesterday morning in which Corona was shot and killed.
“What makes this case even more interesting is the fact that Corona was evidently meeting with two other cartel leaders. Authorities have confirmed that Ismael “Chico” Perez of the Sinaloa cartel and Juan Pablo Fuentes, also known as Baby Face, of the Juarez cartel were present in the house during the last few days. Mexican authorities are confirming that they raided Corona’s mansion at the request of the United States to serve arrest warrants on the three gang leaders.
“We don’t have all the details yet, but it appears that several American law enforcement advisors accompanied the Mexican police during the operation. It’s unclear if this was the FBI, the DEA, or some other agency. What we do know, however, is that the raid turned into a violent shootout between the police and the cartel members just south of this popular resort city.
“As we mentioned, Jose Corona was pronounced dead at the scene, along with Juan Pablo Fuentes. Preliminary reports indicate that Mexican authorities killed over thirty cartel gunmen. The household staff was unharmed during the attack. Twenty-two people have been taken into custody by the federales for questioning. An FBI spokesman confirmed that Ismael Pérez is now in the United States and under arrest for drug trafficking and money laundering, with more charges likely. Pérez was wounded during the shootout but is expected to recover to stand trial.
“An unnamed source also said that during this raid two American women, kidnap victims, were rescued and have been returned to the United States. I attempted to get more information from both the Mexican Federal Police and American authorities, but for right now, that’s all we have. My source did indicate that there would be a press conference later in the week to discuss this heroic rescue of two American women and their horrific tale of kidnapping and captivity by one of Mexico’s largest cartels.”
“Thanks so much, Becky,” the anchor in New York said, as they cut back to the studio. “That is quite the story out of Rosarito, Mexico. We’ll all be interested to hear more about the American women who were rescued from the cartel. But, next, we have another breaking story from inside of Mexico, this one out of Tijuana. A member of the Saudi royal family has been kidnapped. Here’s Jerry Woods at the Tijuana International Airport to tell us about it.”
“Thanks, Stuart,” the tanned, trim, middle-aged man appeared on the screen, a Boeing 737 with Saudi markings in the background. “That is correct. Prince Mohammad Rashid, dubbed by some the ‘Playboy Prince,’ was kidnapped from his private jetliner as it sat here on the tarmac, early this morning. You might remember that a few years back Rashid had some legal troubles in the US and was actually indicted for rape in New York City. The prince eventually pled guilty to a lesser charge and was fined and given a suspended sentence, along with some community service.
“Rashid’s bodyguards and other members of the prince’s entourage are claiming that Mexican Federal Police are responsible for his kidnapping. These witnesses said that the police used tasers to subdue everyone onboard and then quickly hustled Rashid off of the plane. They said the kidnappers drove up in two federal police vehicles and the five officers were all wearing Mexican Police uniforms.
“Of course, the Mexican authorities are denying any involvement. Two of their police SUVs were reported stolen earlier in the evening and were recovered a mile from the airport. Another interesting twist in this cases is that several of the prince’s entourage heard one of the policeman make mention that cartel leader Pepe Corona had ordered the kidnapping.”
“Let me stop you there for just a moment, Jerry,” Stuart said, from the desk in New York. “You actually had a witness tell you that Corona had orchestrated the kidnapping?”
“That’s right, Stuart, although, as we heard from Becky earlier, that cartel leader was killed in a shootout with the police. It’s unclear what Rashid was doing in Mexico. That part of the story is still a bit hazy, with the witnesses giving contradictory reasons for the trip.”
The camera panned back in on Stuart, who sat shaking his head.
“Thanks, Jerry. It’ll be interesting to see what the Saudi royal family’s response to this is. It’s not every day that a prince gets kidnapped. Don’t go away. We’ll be right back with the latest on these and all the other breaking stories from the day.”
A commercial advertising catheters now filled the screen but the weary warriors slept right through it.
Fort Belvoir, Virginia, Sunday, 1500 hours
Chuck and Elizabeth had enjoyed their reunion. He had told her as much as he could about the missions, which meant not much at all about the Mexican operation. She knew not to ask, but was getting really good at putting the puzzle pieces of her husband’s job together. Beth had watched the news closely, wondering what Chuck’s role was in taking out Corona.
On Sunday, they had gone to church at the base chapel and then to one of the few open restaurants in the area for lunch. More and more businesses were starting to reopen as the zombies were eradicated. After eating, they had lounged on their bed, McCain ready for another nap, still trying to catch up on his sleep. After a relaxing afternoon, the couple visited the hospital, checking in on Amy and Tyler. Chuck was thrilled to see the progress they were making.
In the evening, Chuck’s team, including Tu and Gi Donaldson, met at Eric Gray’s townhouse for a cookout. The Marine had steaks cooking on his gas grill and everyone sat around in lawn chairs on the patio sipping ice-cold beer and relaxing for the first time in what seemed like an eternity. Grace Cunningham had left the previous day to get back to Jimmy in Atlanta. All the east coast feds had been pulled out of Los Angeles now that the LAPD and the local FBI finally had the situation under control.
Robert, Tu and Gi’s almost th
ree-year old son, happily ran around the back yard kicking a soccer ball as the adults chatted.
“So, when’s the doc saying Amy and Tyler can come home?” Scotty asked Andy.
Fleming smiled. “Later this week, if everything goes right. They’re both healing and getting their strength back. I’ll need to find somebody who can help me at home to take care of them,” he said, glancing at Emily and Gi.
The paramedic laughed. “You know I’ll help out any way I can.”
Gi nodded. “Just let me know what you need.”
“Thanks. I was kind of hesitant about moving them back into our quarters but Colonel Jefferson had the base maintenance guys come and repair everything and clean it up. They replaced the carpet, patched all the bullet holes, painted, and added some heavier doors. That’ll work for a while, but I’m ready to get off this base and find a couple of acres off the beaten path.”
Chuck nodded. “I was thinking the same thing. This place has been a God-send. Colonel Jefferson and all the Fort Belvoir team have been wonderful. Now that most of the Zs have been eliminated, it’s probably about time to move on. What do you think, my dear?” he asked, looking over at Elizabeth.
The young woman shrugged. “It’s been so nice being close to everybody. I’ll miss that.”
“Maybe we could all try and live in the same area?” Emily suggested.
Josh Matthews cleared his throat. “For what its worth,” he said, tentatively, “I’ve got a fifty acre tract of land about fifteen miles west of Haymarket, out I-66, that I might be willing to parcel out, if y’all were interested.”
The eyes of the group were now on the newest member of Chuck’s team.
“Why do you have a piece of land in rural Virginia?” McCain asked.
“My dad is from that area and the property has been in our family for years. I typically would come up for at least a week during deer season and hunt it. I’d been thinking about selling it for a couple of years, but then with the zombies and all, I haven’t given it much thought. We could take a trip over there and have a look. If y’all wanted to do that, we could divide it up, clear out what we needed to, build some houses, and still have a place to hunt. I’d sell it cheap if it was to you guys.”
After a few moments, Eric broke the silence. “You might just work out after all, Matthews,” he said, with a grin. “What do you think, Boss?”
Chuck saw the excitement on everyone’s faces. “I think we need to take a day trip.”
West of Haymarket, Virginia, Wednesday, 0930 hours
Chuck gave his team the week off. They had been working night and day for over a month and needed to recharge their batteries. Of course, they were subject to being called in if needed, but even a few days of down time was a blessing. Everyone had been enthused to drive the hour and a half to see Josh’s property.
The tract of land was beautiful. It was located north of I-66 off of Bust Head Road. Scotty Smith kept the group laughing as he speculated as to how the road was named. There were very few homes in the area, which suited the men just fine. Josh had led the two-vehicle caravan and stopped at a metal gate secured by a heavy padlock.
After getting both SUVs inside and resecuring the barrier, they drove a quarter of a mile into the woods on a gravel driveway, stopping at a large clearing. The remains of an old farmhouse stood in the center, two brick fireplaces and chimneys attesting to how the residents had stayed warm. Off to the side stood an old brown and tan single-wide mobile home. The siding was rusted and there were no front steps. A small step-stool was the only way to navigate the three-foot climb from the ground to the front door. A pizza box covered a glassless front window.
Chuck, Elizabeth, Scotty, and Emily piled out of one vehicle; Andy and Eric climbed out of Josh’s. As everyone looked around, Matthews pointed out the single-wide.
“We’ve already got one house here,” he laughed.
“Have you ever slept in that?” Beth asked, incredulously.
“Every deer season for the last twelve years. It’s not that bad.”
“I’ll take a hard pass on that one,” Emily said, shaking her head.
Scotty threw a massive arm over his tiny fiancée and laughed. “If you only saw some of the places where I slept in Iraq.”
“You got that right,” Eric added. “Me and Andy would’ve loved to have had something that nice on a couple of our deployments. That’s luxury. What about you, Chuck?”
“I’m with you. I don’t think there was anything that plush in the entire nation of Afghanistan.”
The two girls looked horrified at the thought of spending a night in the trailer, prompting more laughter from the men. Matthews pulled a map out of his vehicle and spread it over the hood of the SUV. He pointed out the boundaries and the topographical highlights.
Now it was time to explore. For the next three hours, the group stamped through the woods, admiring the beautiful views. Whether they all decided to build houses out here or not, Chuck definitely wanted to come back during deer season and see what he could do.
After looking the land over, Josh pulled the map back out and pointed out several potential two or three acre lots. The property could be divided so that they would all live close but still have some privacy. They could maintain twenty to thirty acres on the back side for deer hunting and a shooting range.
This might actually work, McCain thought. He had already planned on selling his home in Georgia. Even after repairing and cleaning all the damage from the cartel attack, he would never ask Beth to sleep there again. They had a nice apartment just outside DC that they might keep, but this rural acreage was only a little over an hour from the office.
The big man’s musings were interrupted by his vibrating phone. The caller ID showed that it was Sandra Dunning. For some reason, I doubt this is good news, he thought as he swiped and answered the call.
The drive back to Fort Belvoir was somber, with everyone lost in their thoughts. I knew it was coming, McCain thought, but I still can’t believe he’s gone. What would Chuck’s and his men’s futures look like with Admiral Williams out of the picture?
Dunning told him that Tim and Tom had found Williams dead in his bed at home. It appeared that the elderly warrior had died in his sleep, the cancer finally catching up with him. Sandra had been named the Acting Director of Operations until the powers that be decided if they wanted to make her appointment permanent.
The acting director asked if Chuck could come in the next day to meet with her and Kevin. She had apologized, knowing that he had taken the week off. What would this meeting hold? Now that she was in charge, would she ask for McCain’s and Clark’s resignations so she could replace them with her own people from within the Agency?
That kind of thing happened all the time in government agencies and even corporations. Chuck knew the power of working with people that he knew and he wondered if Director Dunning felt the same way. We’ll find out tomorrow, he told himself.
CIA Headquarters, McLean, Virginia, Thursday, 0905 hours
Sandra had started moving her personal things into the admiral’s office. Two boxes of Jonathan William’s photos, certificates, diplomas, and trinkets sat against the wall. The funeral was scheduled for the following Saturday, a week and a half away, to allow family and friends to travel to Virginia for the ceremony.
As Chuck and Kevin took their seats in front of the massive desk, McCain took a moment to examine his new boss. She looks like she’s carrying the weight of the world on her shoulders, he thought. Dunning and her team had been burning the midnight oil as well, providing intelligence for the operation in Los Angeles, the takedown in Rosarito, and the grab of Prince Rashid in Tijuana. Her eyes were red and she leaned wearily back in her chair, exhaling and looking at the two men in front of her.
“This isn’t a position I ever expected to have or even wanted, for that matter. I had a good career as a field agent and then in managing agents. I was enjoying myself after transitioning to Senior Analyst and didn�
�t know much at all about the Operations Division.
“Admiral Williams came after me, though, and pulled me in. He told the CIA Director that I was his pick to replace him. There are no guarantees that my appointment will stick, but with all the people we’ve lost, I doubt the director will go against the admiral’s wishes.
Sandra paused and took a deep breath. “But, here’s where politics come in. The director has told me that I need to replace both of you with career agency people. He didn’t like the fact that Admiral Williams had brought in outsiders but he couldn’t do much about it because Williams had the ear of the President.”
So, that’s it then, Chuck realized, as he and Kevin shared a knowing look. She’s going to fire us. The big man actually felt a sense of relief.
“No problem, ma’am,” McCain replied. “I understand completely. Would you like letters of resignation from us?”
Director Dunning’s head jerked towards him. “No! Not at all. I need you both. You are two of the best that I’ve ever seen in action and I’m not about to let you go.”
“Yes, ma’am, but I thought the director said…” Clark started.
“I don’t care what the director said,” Sandra cut him off, trying not to raise her voice. “I told him that you both were staying or that I would be retiring. I’ve got my time and can leave when I want. He wasn’t happy with me giving him an ultimatum. He might fire all three of us, but I don’t think so.
“The only reason that I even told you about my conversation with the director is to let you know that there might be some resentment among the Agency faithful as things get back to normal on the east coast. What I’d like to do, if we don’t all get fired, is to send both of you through some training courses out at the farm that new agents go through so you’ll have a little better understanding of how we do things. At some point, we’ll probably have both of you out there teaching some classes.”
