This was Kline’s base. He was proud of his power, proud of his rank.
Therefore, Kline allowed them their space, their private secure area, even some of their wild ways, provided they didn’t cause any havoc on his base. As long as Kline could keep order, and look good in front of his bosses, he allowed them their extras. They ate like kings, they monopolized the firing range, some wore their hair long and dressed as if on vacation.
But Kline looked the other way. The last thing he’d allow was for them to seek revenge for their missing Delta members, even those from a different unit. At best, he’d give them guard duty, but even then there were strict rules.
The inquiries had been maddening. Fingers pointed, accusations made. Question after question. When an entire Delta team goes missing, problems arise.
Kline wouldn’t dare go through that again.
Or so he thought.
32
Tap. Tap.
A knock on his door.
“Yes,” Kline responded, irritated at the interruption. He had a mountain of paperwork, had demanded to be left alone. Didn’t anyone understand how busy he was?
He was even more annoyed at the young, pimply faced Corporal. The kid’s name was Brian Davis, Kline’s personal assistant. The kid was an idiot, but served his purpose.
“They’re here, sir,” the young buffoon said.
“I said no visitors!” Kline barked.
“Sorry, General, but they seem . . . important.”
“They all think that. Who are they?”
“Sir, I put the itinerary on your desk this morning,” Corporal Davis muttered. “Your guests are expected, General. Apologies for not reminding you.”
“Well, you should have,” Kline said, looking up. “Dammit, Corporal!” he exclaimed, shifting through his mountain of paperwork. It was overwhelming. “I can’t find it. Who exactly are they?”
“I can’t say for certain. One female, one male. The guy looks military. The woman . . . I think she’s CIA.”
Kline shook his head, still shifting through his desk. Sure enough he found it, a clipboard with an appointment, at this very minute. He looked up, saying, “I’ll have to reschedule.”
“General, I think they’re spooks. They don’t reschedule. They’re demanding, sir.”
“Demanding, eh?” Kline said, eyes widening. “Well, you can tell them this. I’m the base commander here. I don’t answer to demands. If they’re spooks, take them to the other side of the runway and get them fixed up in the Spooky Barracks. There’s a nice comfy space we made for them. Seen dozens over the weeks. Thought they’d stop coming. Notify them of the location, shit, escort them there. Then let the Major know. He’ll take care of it.” Kline looked back down, beginning to work once more.
Corporal Davis coughed.
Kline looked up, “What is it, Corporal?”
“Sir, I don’t believe that’s an option.”
“Explain.”
“General, they both have Zulu Seven Clearance.”
“Are you sure?”
“Sir, we’ve checked their identifications and paperwork. It’s all in order. They’re allowed to be here, sir. I suggest reconsidering,” Corporal Davis stated.
Kline sighed, looking back to the paperwork. It said nothing of who they were, nothing of their background, and most certainly, nothing of their classification.
Zulu Seven Clearance.
Kline sighed, looking back up. “A woman, eh?” he asked.
“She’s quite beautiful, sir. But by the looks of her, she means business. After seeing dozens of intelligence officers over the weeks, there’s something different about her.”
“Can you confirm she’s CIA?”
“No, General. But I’ve seen enough to know better.”
“And the man? You say he’s Army?”
“Not sure what branch, but he looks the role.”
Kline shook his head again. Perhaps this was his superior, delivering the bad news. Perhaps his replacement. This worried him greatly.
“General, if it eases your mind, there is something familiar about the guy, though I can’t say what,” Corporal Davis said.
“Hmm,” Kline muttered, lost in thought.
The Corporal spoke again. No doubt the two were right outside, and the kid seemed nervous. “Sir, shall I summon the Major like you said?”
“Heavens no!” Kline barked. “Why would you suggest such a thing?” he asked.
The Corporal said nothing, merely bowing his head.
Kline continued, saying, “Let them in and do it quickly. Apologize for your delay.”
“Yes, General.” Corporal Brian Davis turned, hurrying from the room as Kline rose from behind his desk. He brushed some lint from his uniform, straightening his shirt, standing tall.
Just in time.
A woman and a man entered his office, and a friendly, welcoming smile crossed Kline’s face. “How might I help the two of you?” he asked.
33
“General Kline, my name is Elizabeth. I’m field director in Khost, and I’m in charge here,” the woman stated. She offered no handshake, no gesture of good will or respect.
“Um, say again, young lady?” Kline asked, stunned that a woman with a ponytail was speaking to him in such a manner.
“I’m sorry, General, I was unaware of your hearing problem. I’ll say it again, a bit more slowly. I’m in charge here. Your base will remain under your command for the moment, your missions will continue as usual. However, I have much work to do, and I expect to receive any and everything I need to do my job.”
“Which is?” Kline asked.
“At the moment, that doesn’t matter,” she said curtly. “Now, since my time is limited, let’s please excuse the offers of drinks and kissing of my ass. Have plenty of that already, and all it does is waste time.”
“Pardon me,” Kline began, flustered, “but what the hell are you talking about?” He couldn’t help himself. At first glance, all he could notice was her appearance. Though dressed professionally with her skirt to the ankles, nice blouse, hair tied back, Kline was instantly enthralled with her beauty. This Elizabeth was stunning—brown hair, perhaps five foot six, slender body with ample breasts.
Her demeanor, however, threw him off. Angered him.
“Must I say it again?” she asked.
“Listen, perhaps I’m a bit lost. Your name is Elizabeth . . .?” he asked, beckoning for a last name.
“Just Elizabeth.”
“And you’re from . . .?”
“Langley, like I stated. All special operations are now under my command.”
“Which part of Langley?” Kline asked. “Seen tons of you guys around lately. Never heard of this.”
“I’m from the Special Activities Division,” she stated.
The Special Activities, or SAD, is a division in the Central Intelligence Agency. It falls under the National Clandestine Services, responsible for covert operations.
Special Activities, as they’re termed.
There are two groups within SAD, one for paramilitary and combat operations, another for covert political activities. Both groups work hand in hand. The Political Action Group influences politics, using psychological warfare and economic and cyber warfare against the enemy.
The other division, Special Operations Group, is responsible for carrying out hostilities in enemy countries. They’re tasked with taking out any threat, by whatever means possible.
Though heard of within the upper branches of the military, the Special Activities Division is perhaps the most secretive Special Operations Force in the United States.
Zulu Seven Clearance, Kline thought.
Elizabeth waited a moment, allowing her words to sink in before continuing. “We’ve formed a task force, and will need you to do what we tell you. Now, I expect we won’t have any problems, but if we do, I’ll take over your operations. Let’s make this clear, I have full ability to do so. But the thing is, General, I don’t want t
o have to. Quite simply, I don’t have the time. Do what you’re told and we’ll get along. But if you get in my way, I’ll take over.”
“Listen, if you want the Spec Op boys, I’m fine with that. You’re welcome to them, actually.”
“Good. Then perhaps we’ll get along,” Elizabeth said, smiling.
“I assume you do know how few there are at the moment?”
“Six. Yes, I know. I hand-selected them,” she answered.
“I see,” Kline said, nodding. He didn’t understand a thing, but was good at pretending. “You must have some pull in Washington,” he added, a hint of sarcasm in his voice.
“More than you can imagine,” she responded.
Elizabeth turned, gesturing to the man beside her. He loomed over her, nearly six feet, two inches tall. He had square shoulders, fit and able. The man was much younger than Kline, in much better shape, too.
Kline recognized the man’s face, though he couldn’t place it. The man was stern looking, offering no handshake, no sign of acknowledgement.
How do I know him? Kline thought.
Elizabeth turned back, saying, “General Kline, this is Colonel Chad Reynolds, United States Marine Corps. He is now the Commanding Officer of your Delta team members. He’ll take over, he’ll be working with them. Colonel Reynolds answers only to me, therefore, he’s your boss too.”
“My boss? A Marine?” Kline asked, astonished.
“Your boss,” Elizabeth affirmed. “He’s been selected by me and assigned to this task force. I’ve also brought along a team of techies, two of them, Viki and Michael. They will be helping Colonel Reynolds and I, and the last thing they need is for you to get in their way.”
“I . . . I’ve been most helpful to dozens of intelligence officers. They’ve been here the past three weeks. I’ve done my best, received no thanks either,” Kline grumbled.
“And you won’t get any from either of us,” Elizabeth returned. “Now, you may not know me, but I assume you’ve heard of Colonel Reynolds. Am I correct on that assumption?”
“Indeed,” Kline nodded his head, looking at the stern man. The name did it.
Kline knew exactly who this man was.
“He’s quite famous, I suppose,” Kline admitted.
Colonel Reynolds was your prototypical Marine, square shoulders and square jaw. He shaved three times daily, kept polished boots and pressed fatigues. He was in his late forties, though he didn’t look a day over thirty-five. His hair was cropped, less than half an inch, his eyes bore a constant thousand yard stare. What was most impressive was that he earned his rank, full Colonel, at such a young age.
General Kline couldn’t help but stare at the Marine. He had seen him on the television, had heard the stories, assumed most were embellishments. But looking upon Reynolds now, Kline was assured every tale of the man was probably true.
The General snapped out of it, breaking the silence with a cough, finally acknowledging the man. “Colonel Reynolds, your reputation precedes you. Welcome to my base,” he said, glancing at Elizabeth with contempt. Kline looked back, reaching out his hand. Unlike Elizabeth, the Marine gripped it firmly. Kline felt as if his hand was gripped in an iron vice.
Reynolds said nothing, merely nodding at the welcome.
Kline looked back to Elizabeth. He was stunned, confused at her attitude, wishing he’d read the reports the young Corporal had set on his desk earlier. They probably wouldn’t have helped, but at least he’d have been more prepared.
“Pardon if I’m a bit surprised,” Kline said. “Things have been . . . strange lately. Lots of comings and goings. Lots of intelligence officers, lots of others too. Can hardly keep up with them. Hell, I’ve had more Army officers to cater to than I’d ever imagine, but I’ve done the best I can. I’m a little overwhelmed, I’ll admit.”
“General, we understand the situation is a messy one. We also understand you have much work to do,” Elizabeth said, looking around his office, yet offering no condolences.
Awards on the wall.
Medals and pictures with famous politicians.
It didn’t impress her.
“You’ve threatened to take over my command,” Kline protested. “It surely is messy, with threats like that!”
“I don’t threaten. I merely suggested that’s a possibility, and fully within my powers. For the moment, this is your show, with the exception of my team.”
“Delta,” Kline muttered.
“Correct. You have six members on base, and they’ll be under my command. Colonel Reynolds will take them over, get them off your hands. By your tone, I assume you don’t like them. That’s fine, because I don’t care. The only things I expect are for you to stay out of my way and assist us with whatever we need. As a result, we’ll do our job and be gone as soon as possible. Hell, I’ll even write you up a review and maybe you’ll get that fourth star you’ve been hoping for,” she said, still smiling.
Was it that obvious? He held it in, though, instead saying, “I’ll do my part, and hopefully your business here is brief. For your sake, of course.”
“Of course,” she said.
“The last group of intelligence officers were here for weeks,” Kline said.
“I do things different. We move fast. Once our mission is accomplished, we’re gone. You can go about doing whatever you do here,” Elizabeth stated, looking again at the wall of awards, the wall of pictures, the wall of Kline’s desire to improve his career.
“We fight Taliban here, ma’am,” Kline said, bowing his chest. “We protect our country and kill Taliban.”
Elizabeth nodded, yet not impressed. “Reports say your Spec Ops teams get the majority of the kills. They usually do.”
“Now that’s not fair,” Kline said. “Everyone here is useful, everyone here does their part. These interruptions are causing us a mess we don’t need. As you know, Khost is a hot-zone. I merely want to get back to business.”
“Fair enough. Provided you keep your ego in check, we’ll stay out of your hair. We’ll be moving to the Spec Ops area as soon as this meeting is adjourned.”
“Ah, of course,” Kline said. He faked a friendly gesture, perhaps even a smile. “A sixth of my base is reserved for Special Forces. It’s been empty for quite some time, and with only six other Delta, you’ll have plenty of room.”
“Wonderful,” Elizabeth said.
“If you ask me, it’s a waste of much needed space,” Kline added.
“I didn’t ask you,” Elizabeth remarked.
Kline ignored the comment, instead saying, “The six Delta members are there, that’s where you can find them. Plenty of space, lots of room for you—empty buildings, a control center, barracks and private offices. You’ll be comfortable there.”
“Excellent. Now, I’ll need you to provide us with a few other things. I’ll leave you a list. I’m sure it’s easy to follow,” Elizabeth said.
Kline already despised the woman’s attitude. Her good looks didn’t make up for her demeanor. Kline could sense she had no respect for him, and this bothered the man. Over the past weeks, he’d at least been able to complain to his superiors.
But somehow, Kline felt this was going to be different. Shaking his head, he muttered, “This makes no sense. You have Zulu Seven Clearance? That correct?”
“You can read,” Elizabeth said, clapping her hands. “Goodie for you.”
Kline’s face reddened. He spoke, saying, “I’ve served as base commander five years. I’ve been a three star general for two of those. I’d expect some professional respect,” Kline demanded, though he felt it came out as a whine.
Elizabeth ignored him, ignored his rank, ignored his power. She wasn’t military, and didn’t have to answer the man. Instead, she gestured to the Marine beside her, repeating, “Again, the Colonel will take over command of the six Special Operators. He’ll run the show with Delta, and he’ll report only to me. Is that clear?”
“Yes,” Kline finally agreed.
“Good.
I understand you’ve been overseeing them since Commander McClain and his Operators were flown out.”
“Yes, they’re under my control . . . as of now, I suppose. Now they’re your problem.”
“Have you spoken to them? Debriefed them?” she asked.
“On what? I’ve received no word why they’re here. Seems nobody has. And if they know something, they sure as hell aren’t saying a word.”
“If they did, they wouldn’t tell you anyway,” Elizabeth said.
Colonel Reynolds spoke up, “Have they gone out on drills. Missions?” he asked.
“Negative,” Kline answered. “They haven’t been here long. Figured I’d let them acclimate.”
“You figured you’d keep them at bay,” Elizabeth said.
“Listen, I see no need. I’ve given them all the comforts Delta requires, plenty of range time, as much television and food as they want. What else am I to do?”
“Let them fight?” Colonel Reynolds suggested.
“With all due respect, I can’t afford another missing Delta team. And there are only six. That wouldn’t be enough even if I wanted them to go out. Now, I’ve never heard of a Marine running the show over some Special Forces guys, especially Army. It’s unheard of, but like I agreed, they’re yours. I doubt they’ll like it, though.”
“Like what?”
“A Marine calling the shots to a Tier 1 Delta Unit.”
“They will take orders from me,” interjected Colonel Reynolds, “because they respect me. If they don’t, I will make them respect me.”
“General Kline, you do know Colonel Reynolds’ reputation, don’t you?” Elizabeth asked.
“Of course. I’m only saying it to warn you. These guys are different. They’re wild, always on the verge of causing me more grief. That grief is yours now, so no sweat off me. I’m only attempting to warn you, to give you some friendly advice,” Kline said.
“The reason you are having so much trouble with Delta, sir, is because you don’t understand them. Their creed demands they leave no man behind. As long as their brothers are missing, you’re going to have difficulty,” Elizabeth answered, the Colonel remaining silent.
Khost Page 12
