“Sentinel-One, I'm locked! Fox three!”
A single missile dropped from the weapons bay and its engine ignited. Eva turned to lock up the third bandit when she saw a bright ball of light leap from it towards the Gulfstream jet.
“Shit!” Eva whispered as two flashes erupted almost simultaneously. One was the craft she had fired on and the second was the Gulfstream jet. Both disintegrated into countless fragments within brief, fiery blasts.
“Sentinel-One, splash bandit-two!”
She pulled back on her joystick to get altitude and banked steeply left in pursuit of the remaining bandit. The afterburners surged, which sprayed raw jet fuel into the tailpipe in both engines. The resulting combustion yielded a dramatic rush of additional thrust. The Angela leaped upward, pushing Eva into her seat with a crushing force that nearly overloaded her anti-G suit. She backed off and went into a dive to line up her shot. Again, a rapid cycling tone turned steady and Eva's HUD target display flashed red.
“Alpha-Mike-Foxtrot,” Eva first whispered, which was the polite brevity code for Adios-Mother-Fucker. “Sentinel-One, fox three!”
Another missile dropped from the weapons bay. It streaked off after the engine ignited and reached the third bandit within seconds. There was a last second attempt to evade, but the missile warhead detonated in proximity mode, sending several small projectiles slicing into the sleek triangular craft. Two projectiles penetrated into the engine which touched off a large secondary blast. The craft broke into two pieces and tumbled out of the sky.
“Sentinel-One, splash bandit-three!”
Dignosco-Two– In Flight
“That's another kill,” a controller anxiously called out as he watched his monitors. “All three bandits are down. The grid is clear.”
“What about the Gulfstream?” Sam asked.
“Gone.”
“Dignosco-Two, Sentinel-One. Two grapes splashed, but we lost the Gulfstream.”
“Dignosco-Two, understood,” Sam replied. “Fuel status?”
“Sentinel-One, I'm bingo fuel. Turning back.”
“Sentinel-One, Dignosco-Two. Confirmed RTB. Bravo Zulu!”
“Sentinel-One, TDAOM.”
“Dignosco-Two, affirmative,” Sam replied with a smile.
Marcus turned to him with a confused expression. “TDAOM? Never heard that one before.”
Sam chuckled. “The-Drinks-Are-On-Me, or her in this case.”
“Dignosco-Two, Blanchard Control,” Sam heard over is headset. “Please terminate testing and proceed to Tacoma. Out.”
Blanchard Mobile Command Center – Puyallup, Washington
The earlier celebratory mood had diminished with the confirmation that the Blanchard Gulfstream jet had been shot down. Neil stood for a while and watched everyone return to their duties with somber expressions.
“He actually went through with it,” Colin muttered to Neil.
Neil frowned and turned away to walk back into the small office. He swung the door shut behind him, but a hand reached out to stop it. Colin entered and finished closing the door.
“So, Merrill was working with them all these years?” Neil asked as he sat. “How did he beat our drug test? Maybe it was too long since they used it on him?”
“I don't think he was ever on the drug.”
Neil shook his head. “Really?”
“I bet he came to them willingly, or maybe he found a way to make them think he was on their drug. If they had really turned him, there's no way he could have pulled off what he just did. He played on their side to make our side stronger.”
Neil leaned back in his chair with a crooked smile. “He played a long con?”
“All so The Initiative could be safely launched,” Colin finished with a chuckle. “It fits him.”
“But sacrificing himself? That doesn’t fit him. He could have pulled off his plan in any number of ways that didn't kill himself in the process.”
“True,” Colin said after a thoughtful pause. “But considering how many people he sacrificed over the years, I'm sure he thought he couldn't ever come back from what he really did.”
“Going down with the plane was his idea of redemption?”
“I seem to remember a lot of heartburn over our original plan. We were going to set up an attack on a U.S. government aircraft transporting Senator Barlow, which would've included an innocent flight crew as collateral damage. Merrill took those losses off the table by flying our corporate jet himself.”
“Frustrating,” Neil seethed.
“I remember the talks you used to have with him,” Colin said with a laugh. “I'm sure he also did it that way to piss you off.”
“You're probably right. No matter how hard I tried, I just couldn't ever get it through to him that our actions isn't what really saves us in the end.”
“He was always too damned stubborn.”
Neil picked up the letter and turned it over to the last page. “Do you think this list of operatives he left us is genuine?”
“I think it's all part of his elegant endgame. Now you'll be able to neutralize their networks which will give The Initiative plenty of time to get on its feet.”
“I'll be able to?”
“Neil, the torch is being handed off to you. Merrill prepared the necessary paperwork for you to assume the role of interim CEO. Then the board of directors will need to convene and cast their vote for a permanent CEO. The Senate oversight committee will then have to confirm whatever they decide. It'll go a lot more smoothly if you're the one they vote in as the permanent CEO.”
“I'm not sure if I'm ready to return to this.”
“Return? Hell, Neil, you never left. Maybe you had it a little too easy working in the shadows, but you've been part of this all along. Merrill might have been in charge all these years, but you're the architect of this endeavor.”
Neil straightened up in his seat and picked up the letter. “Okay, then, just remember that you asked for it. I'll need you to prepare for an extensive FBI and NTSB investigation that's bound to land on our doorstep in a couple of hours. That's two airplanes we've lost this year.”
“Me?”
“Yes, it's appropriate for my head of security to handle such things.”
“You're forgetting how badly I suck at my job.”
“Name one person Merrill didn't have fooled and I'll let you walk. That would include anyone at the NSA.”
“Okay, point taken,” Colin replied with a faint chuckle.
“After prepping for these investigations, there's a lot of house cleaning ahead of us.”
“Part of that should be taken care of soon.”
Royale Hotel – Tacoma, Washington
Walt opened the door to his hotel room and found that the lights were already on. He stepped in and found Christine waiting in the bed.
“Surprise.”
“I'd say,” Walt said as he tossed his suit jacket over the chair. “What are you doing here?”
“I saw you'd be at the Puyallup office, so I scheduled a site meeting so we could meet up. Long day?”
“Can't talk much about it, but yes, a very long day.”
“Let me help you relax, then. There's a drink waiting for you on the table. Rum and cola. I think I remembered how you like it.”
“Ah, thank you,” Walt said with a sudden craving. He picked up the small glass and gulped it down in one belt. “Oh, now that's a great start.”
“Now, why don't you come over here for more?”
Walt took off his tie and walked over to the bed with a yearning smile. He stumbled at the foot of the bed and fell into a sitting position.
“Wow, I must have put that one down a little too quickly.”
“Will you stop fooling around?”
Walt smiled and crawled up the bed and into Christine's arms. “That left a funny aftertaste.”
Christine brushed her hand across the side of his face. “You've been fun, Walt, but it's time to move on.”
“Move
on?” Walt asked in a slur. His eyes lost focus and Christine slowly dropped his head into his pillow. He took one last breath and was gone.
“Goodbye, Walt,” Christine mumbled as she got out of the bed. As she reached for her clothes, the door to the room opened. Christine froze as someone entered.
“What are you doing here?”
“Damn,” Carlos remarked in a suggestive tone. “Too bad I won't have time for a quick spin with you.”
“What?” Christine replied as she ceased trying to cover up.
“New orders from the top,” Carlos replied, sighed, and looked to the table with a half empty can of Cola. “Sorry, but you should finish the Cola.”
Christine stood and stared at Carlos with a blank expression.
“You'd better get it done before I change my mind about taking that spin. Trust me, the ideas I have running through my mind aren't the last thing you'd ever want to remember doing.”
Christine slowly nodded and turned to the table to retrieve the can.
“Jesus, what a waste of a fine piece of ass,” Carlos muttered as he watched Christine gulp down the rest of the Cola. “Now, please join your friend in bed.”
Christine again nodded and walked to the bed. As she climbed in, Carlos turned and left the room. He went to the nearest stairwell for his exit. As he opened the door, he encountered someone walking up the stairs. With a quick nod, he walked past him.
“Now, isn't this a surprise?” Hank spoke out, which stopped Carlos. “You're the last person I expected to see here.”
“Do I know--” Carlos stopped as two other men approached from below. He looked at them and attempted to run out past Hank.
“Oh, no you don't,” Hank said as he reached out and slammed Carlos against the door. “Sam would be very interested to see you again.”
One of the other men helped pin Carlos while the other put a cloth of chloroform over his mouth. They held him in place for a few seconds before his body went limp.
“Get him out,” Hank ordered as he reached into Carlos's pocket for a key card. “I'm going to take a peek at what went down in the room.”
Blanchard Corporation – Puyallup, Washington
It was nearing ten o'clock in the evening and most who worked at the large West Coast facility had gone home. Sam walked down a darkened hallway toward the cafeteria. He spent the past four hours in post-flight debriefings and taking a long ride to the Puyallup facility.
“Here he is,” Neil announced from a table in the far corner of an empty cafeteria. He, Hank, and Colin were sitting at a round table trying to unwind with some beers. Sam walked over with his carry-on slung over his shoulder.
“That was a hell of a job, kid,” Hank said as he held up his beer bottle.
“Very nice work, Sam,” Neil said as he shook Sam's hand. Colin and Hank followed. Neil picked up a dark brown bottle and handed it to Sam. “From Susan. I let her know you arrived in London and she suggested that I find you this bottle of fine root beer.”
Sam smiled as he twisted the cap off and took a drink. “A little celebration?”
“Hell, yeah,” Hank proclaimed to Sam. “Way to keep your shit together up there, kid. It must have been a bitch having to strap into the same chair at the back of the plane.”
“It was,” Sam grunted and turned to Neil. “Did we hurt them bad?”
“I don't think we've seen them send in three at a time before,” Neil answered as he looked to Colin.
“Never three,” Colin agreed. “Sometimes two, but usually one. No doubt we knocked them on their ass. Well, at least for a little while.”
“Please sit,” Neil requested as Sam pulled up a chair and sat. “Sam, Hank, I'm going to share part of a letter with you that Merrill left us just before the operation started. None of it can leave this room.”
Neil spent the next couple of minutes reading select passages of Merrill's letter in a hushed voice. By the end, Sam looked dejected while Hank appeared as though he was going to toss the table across the cafeteria.
“You've got to be shitting me!” Hank fumed.
“I'm sorry, guys,” Colin said. “It all got by me.”
“I want to say something about this,” Neil declared as he folded the letter and put it into an envelope. “I've had some time to process it and I think we all need to understand what was really going on over the years. Merrill ascertained from the start that the enemy was already among us. There was no way they would've allowed an organization like The Initiative to be formed unless they thought they could control it. Merrill decided that he needed to make a deal with the devil to keep them distracted. Over the years he kept the enemy thinking that The Initiative was window dressing, because to them he was building something he assured would never harm them. In actuality, he was building a viable defense organization right under their noses. It came with a high price. Merrill got a good deal of blood on his hands because he made sacrifices to maintain his charade.”
“Was he involved with the bombing that killed Angela?” Sam asked.
“He wrote in his letter that he didn't know anything about it,” Neil replied. “I believe him, because I'm convinced that her death was a key turning point. You see, Merrill knew his charade couldn't be sustained indefinitely. It all started to unravel with the first Dignosco test flight. He originally planned to report it as a failure despite expecting it to be a success. Instead, the enemy mounted a surprise attack. It was their way of assuring failure, and all without working through Merrill as they always had before. Instead of a clean kill, it all went sideways. They then attempted to assassinate Sam and killed Angela instead. It was at that point when Merrill saw his opportunity to turn his con back on them. His endgame was to weaken their operation in order to give The Initiative enough time to stand on its own. Merrill also gave us a list of other known operatives and suspected networks. We already have a good start. Senator Barlow is gone. The rest of the Senate committee is clean. Walt Thompson and Christine Haynes are also dead.”
“Walt's dead?” Sam asked.
“It was a murder-suicide,” Hank explained. “Christine slipped Walt a lethal Mickey in his hotel room before we could get there, then offed herself with the same drink. That was something we didn't see coming, but the biggest surprise was who I found exiting the floor. I ran into your old buddy, Carlos, in the stairwell.”
“Carlos is alive?”
“He is,” Colin replied with a smile. “He must have been shadowing Christine to make sure she carried through with Walt.”
“What's going to happen to him?” Sam asked.
“He'll be brought to our Richmond facility for treatment,” Colin replied. “He'll go through a detox program and then some interrogation.”
“Are you sure he's worth all that trouble? Sam asked in a contemptible tone.
“I don't know if he'll know as much as Christine did,” Colin answered, “but I expect he'll know at least something of the networks Merrill gave us.”
“Sam, Carlos deserves a chance to be saved,” Neil added.
“I honestly couldn't give a shit about him,” Sam retorted.
“Hey, kid,” Hank said after a short period of awkward silence. “Don't try to think too much about it right now. You did good. Focus on that.”
Sam put his bottle on the table. He had taken only a couple of drinks but lost any desire for more. “How do we deal with all these things we didn't plan for?”
“Merrill will be handled as part of our original plan to deal with Senator Barlow,” Colin answered. “We'll let the local police handle Christine and Walt.”
“Won't a police investigation complicate things?” Sam asked.
“A police investigation is a lot less complicated than getting our hands dirty trying to dispose of bodies and coming up with cover stories,” Colin explained. “We'll play it up as a lovers' spat that ended tragically, which isn't too far from the truth. We'll plant just enough information to suggest Christine was struggling with a mental illness and
snapped.”
“What's going to happen now that Mr. Drake is gone?” Sam asked.
“I've been made interim CEO,” Neil replied in a resigned tone. “The board of directors will soon vote on me as the permanent CEO.”
“That's great to hear,” Sam said with a renewed enthusiasm.
“Thanks, but we don't have a lot of time to enjoy our victory. Merrill's grand con was brilliantly executed, but we still have a lot of work to do. If we successfully neutralize enough enemy networks, we've bought ourselves at least a few months before they receive reinforcements and begin reconstituting. It's sure to be a different game at that point. Before then, we need to activate enough elements of The Initiative to counter whatever they bring against us.”
“Did Drake find out what in the hell they've been doing here to begin with?” Hank asked.
“No,” Neil replied with a frown. “Not even he could figure that out. It's going to be on us to solve that mystery.”
Colin raised his beer bottle. “To the next phase.”
“Charlie-Mike,” Hank spoke out as he, Colin, and Sam raised their bottles. It was a military code meaning to continue mission.
“To The Initiative and Merrill,” Neil added.
“Where are you headed, kid?” Hank asked Sam after the toast.
“Not sure. I'm supposed to be in London until the weekend.”
“Sam, take a little break,” Neil implored. “Make use of that alternative identity we gave you and catch a flight to a sunny beach.”
“Maybe I'll make a stop in southern California. A certain pilot down that way owes me a drink.”
Hank laughed. “Whatever you do, let her brag all she wants. Those jet-jockeys get real talkative after a good mission. I'm real tempted to come with you because she'll be in the best goddamned mood of her life. That will be something to see.”
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
The Initiative: In Harm's Way (Book One) Page 29
