Asp

by Kris Michaels

  No.

  Impossible.

  Asp wiped the sweat out of his eyes. He lifted his scope and brought the man into focus. Fuck! Billy! Billy was fucking alive, and he…he had to be the sniper who’d shot him. Asp watched his old spotter take his M-21 out of the truck and follow the bankroll into the largest building. His back hit the tree. Billy had died. Those motherfuckers! They’d told him Billy had died! He’d visited the man’s grave. Rage boiled through his veins. Rage and hate. Not at his spotter, fuck that. He raged at the fuckers who’d manipulated his life. Had they lied to Billy? Manipulated him the same way? Asp’s gut clenched. Lyric and her family were in danger, and not just because of the dirtbag in charge. No, he knew Billy. The man he trained and served with wouldn’t stop hunting until he knew for sure the man he’d shot was dead. Sooner or later Billy would piece together the relationship between the shrine to Lyric’s grandmother and the dead body, and that connection would take him straight to Lyric’s family. He knew his spotter. Billy was intelligent—and lethal. It was only a matter of time before the information about the dead man made its way back to this camp. The rag-tag group obviously didn’t have a central communications system. That meant each new person entering the camp was a threat. A threat Asp needed to deal with—tonight.

  He monitored the movements within the camp. As twilight cast longer shadows he watched Billy exit the largest building with his equipment. He watched him as he strolled down the main road of the camp, perhaps too intently. Billy’s head came up, and he appeared to sweep the area where Asp watched. The man stood motionless, but Asp knew he was raking through a search of the area. He flattened to the ground, knowing if Billy saw a difference in the landscape, he’d respond. The longer shadow played in his favor. Billy rolled his shoulders and gave one more glance toward the brush before he entered a smaller structure, the same building the rest of the men Asp had pegged as prior military had entered. A barracks. Considering his options, Asp laid out a plan. It was stupid risky, but it was the only scenario he could fashion that didn’t include dying. A memory of Lyric flashed through his mind. No, today wasn’t a good day to die. He’d opt for Plan B, as in Plan Billy. Fuck, he hoped his spotter would remember.

  Chapter 17

  Asp shimmied under the outside fence line after an hour of cautiously digging out space to worm through. He was exposed, but there was no routine patrol. Which was good and bad. The lackadaisical guards had just meandered by, but there was no telling if they would double back. Asp unfolded his knife and popped the staples that held the chicken wire to the wood posts of the second fence. Asp targeted the area because it wasn’t constructed as well as the first fence. He figured they were about a week from having the camp buttoned up.

  Asp bent the wire and shimmied through. Being stealthy and shit wasn’t necessarily his gig. Not close in like this at least. That was Lycos’ gig. The guy was like a fucking ghost. Sweat poured off him and soaked his shirt as he worked his way through the camp to the barracks building. He darted into the shadows created by a vehicle when the door opened. A man stumbled through the door and headed to what Asp assumed was the communal toilet. His heart beat against his chest like a ten-pound sledgehammer while he waited for the man to pass. He inched closer to the door of the barracks. He would leave his calling card on the wood planks that made up the porch. He’d place it to the right of the door so it wouldn’t be disturbed by nocturnal wanderings caused by full bladders. He reached into his pocket and retrieved the three flat stones, placing one on top of the other. Two smaller stones pointed ninety degrees from the position where Asp would wait for Billy. Two stones meant two clicks, and they’d always used ninety degrees to the right when identifying a meeting place. It was their twist on markers, something they’d come up with and something nobody else would know. If Billy saw the signal and if he wasn’t too caught up in whatever Halo One-One had concocted, he’d come to Asp. If, a small word and a huge fucking chance. If not, then Asp had given Billy a way to pinpoint his location. Everything hinged on Billy being the same man he’d served with. Everything.

  Asp retreated from the camp the same way he’d entered it. His entire body shook as he slithered through the hole he’d dug. As he entered the brush and collected his equipment, he took a moment to breathe and center himself. He glanced back at the sleeping camp and the reality of his situation fell heavy on his shoulders. He’d gambled his life on a man he hadn’t seen in years. One that worked for criminals. He had one more power bar in his backpack and half a bottle of water. He’d left the chlorination tablets with Lyric. Could he survive off the land? Yes. Could he survive off the land while on the run from an elite sniper? Asp drew a deep breath and nodded to himself. If it meant getting back to Lyric, yes. He shouldered his backpack and carefully picked up his weapon. It was time to move.

  Asp trained his scope on the front of the small barracks. Nothing else in the camp mattered as the compound started to come to life. He’d made sure his position was on the shade side of the sunrise so no reflection from his scope would be seen. The door opened, and two men exited. Both walked right by the marker. He watched as Billy exited in animated conversation with another man. They walked past the marker. Billy laughed. Asp couldn’t hear the sound but his memory reproduced the deep rumble of the man’s laugh. Asp tracked him until they entered the latrines and then swung his scope back to the markers and watched three other men leave the structure. The markers remained untouched. Asp clocked Billy and the other man as they left the latrines and crossed to the largest building. He lowered his scope and waited.

  When the men emerged, the mood wasn’t as jovial. Billy was still with the other man, and they were headed back toward the barracks. Asp watched and held his breath. Both men’s heads were down as they neared the boards. Billy stopped. The man beside him took several strides before he swung his attention back to Billy. Billy nodded and continued walking. As he passed the marker, Billy kicked the stones to the dirt. The other man entered the barracks, and Billy turned, looked directly at the location Asp had indicated and nodded, once, before he entered the building.

  Asp held his position. He wasn’t where he told Billy to go. He couldn’t take the risk that the man he once knew might double-cross him. He trained his scope on the building and watched as Billy left, with a full pack and his weapon. The man went back to the largest building and remained in the facility for over an hour. When he exited, he walked toward the gate and waited for the guards to let him out. He slipped into the bush. Asp lost track of the man, found him, lost track and found him again. Billy was heading straight for the marker’s location. Asp watched as Billy entered the clearing. His crosshairs painted Billy’s chest. The man stopped, took off his backpack and lowered his weapon to the ground. Billy raised his hands and turned around. He then took five large steps away from his weapon. “For fuck’s sake, please don’t tell me I imagined that marker. Mac, dude, please, don’t fuck with me.”

  Asp lifted from where he had camouflaged himself, his gun still pointed at Billy. The man’s face split into a tremendous smile. He dropped his hands and walked towards Asp. “Mac, you son of a bitch! You’re alive. Holy fuck, they told me you were dead!”

  “Stop there, Billy.” Asp barked out the command. “They lied to me, too. They told me you’d died. I went to your grave, saw the headstone.”

  The man froze, and his smile dropped. “Mac, what’s going on, man?”

  “You tell me, Bill. Why are you working for those criminals?” Asp tipped his head toward the camp.

  Billy’s brow furrowed. “Criminals? Fuck, man, I work for the CIA. We’ve been sent to restructure the remnants of the FARC into a paramilitary organization to assist the National Police.” Billy crossed his arms over his chest. “Son of a bitch. It was you. You killed…”

  “Cavanaugh. Or as I knew him, Halo One-One. He’d been coded by the international community. He was rogue.”

  Billy scoffed, “Bullshit! We are here on a U.S. Government-sanction
ed mission.”

  “Really? Who is your diplomatic contact? Tell me your chain of command.” Asp kept his voice level.

  Billy stiffened and blinked before his head jerked. “I don’t know.”

  “Why don’t you? Think back, Billy. When was the last time you knew that information? Five years ago? Six? I bet you stopped getting that intel when Cavanaugh went rogue. Did you have six months or a year when you didn’t have missions?” He watched a myriad of expressions cross Billy’s face. “I ‘died’ and went to work for the CIA, also. I was the one that outed Cavanaugh. He was my handler. He was using me to kill people for his own agenda. I figured it out, and I went to the top. I exposed the bastard for what he was, and I left. I’ve been working for Guardian since. They sent me here. Guardian, Billy. You know their rep. You know they don’t play the bullshit political power game.”

  His friend's face went pale under his tan. His eyes displayed disbelief. His head shook slowly from side to side. “That can’t be right.” Billy sat down in the middle of the clearing. He glared up at Asp. “Fucking put the gun away, man.”

  Asp shook his head. “Not yet, Bill. Did the CIA recruit you after the bombing?”

  Billy shook his head. “Yeah. Told me that Amanda had already buried me. Showed me pictures. Told me she miscarried.” His grief-stricken face looked up at Asp. “We were supposed to get married when I got back. I told you that right?”

  “Yeah, man. You told me when we met up back in country.”

  “Right. Things that happened right before the bombing are hazy. She was pregnant. When the service told her, she miscarried. She was admitted to a mental health ward. They asked me if I really wanted to put her through more anguish by reappearing and then dying in combat. They told me I wasn’t injured enough to be sent home. The service was sending me back—without you. Fuck man, how could I work with someone else?”

  Asp cleared his throat before he spoke, “They showed me pictures of my parents. They told me almost the same thing. The CIA stole our lives, Billy. Cavanaugh has been rogue for years. Your pay isn’t going to the same account the CIA used originally, is it?”

  Billy shook his head. “They changed it…five years ago, security precautions.”

  “This camp, it isn’t a liaison effort. You’re reorganizing the malcontents left over from the disbandment of the FARC.”

  “You’ve killed two of the men I deployed.”

  “No, I killed three.”

  “Three?”

  “There was a man who found the cave where I was recovering.” Asp lowered his weapon but kept the business end of the rifle trained on his friend, just in case.

  “Sanders? We got word he’d been killed yesterday. A courier brought photographs. Benedict sent a team to question the old man who had a shrine up there. He made some calls. If there isn’t an actual liaison or training going on, then there are dirty National Police personnel. The team they sent out is meeting up with a local from the NP. Did that man help you?”

  “He and his granddaughter saved my life after someone from your camp shot me in the thigh. Wasn’t you by any chance?” His mind raced, how the fuck was he going to get to Lyric’s grandfather? Her father was there, too.

  Billy nodded.

  “You’re slipping, Bill. The man I knew would have killed me.”

  His friend gave him a look through narrowed eyes. “Yeah? Well the man I knew wouldn’t have presented a target.” Billy reached into his pocket, and Asp snapped the rifle to his shoulder. “Chill, Mac. I have a Sat Phone.” Billy tossed the phone, and it dropped at his feet. “I want to hear the call. I want proof that my people are on the take. Set it up. I have nowhere to be.” He tipped his head down the slope. “They think I’m gone for the next three days.”

  Asp lowered his weapon and reached for the phone, careful to keep his friend in sight. Billy growled and flopped onto his back. "I can’t get any fucking less intimidating, Mac. Make the call.”

  Asp lifted the phone and entered the numbers he’d memorized. He put the phone on speaker wanting complete transparency for Billy. The phone rang twice before one of the disembodied mind readers who ran the switchboard answered. “Operator Three-Seven-Four.”

  “This is Six-Six-Eight. Send me home.”

  “One moment, Six-Six-Eight.”

  Billy put his hands behind his back. His eyes were focused on the sky, and the furrow between his brows deepened with each passing minute.

  “Authenticate Roast Beef,” Bengal’s raspy voice growled over the connection.

  “Swiss Cheese,” Asp responded as Billy laughed. The man knew him, and his appetite.

  “Where the fuck have you been and who is with you?” That was Anubis.

  Asp sat down across from Billy. “I’ll tell you in just a minute. Is Thanatos still in country?”

  “Yes,” Bengal growled.

  “I need him to get to a farm owned by an old man. Fuck, I don't know his name." Asp let out a string of curse words. How could he be so fucking stupid?

  Billy lifted his head. "The guy we are going to question is Mateo Garcia."

  Asp drew a deep breath. "Thanks. The old man is Mateo Garcia. His son-in-law, last name Gadson, lives on the farm with him. There are a team of FARC and National Police going to question the man. The only thing he’s guilty of is saving my life. He needs protection.”

  “Omega team is close. I’ll deploy them.” Alpha’s voice cut through the connection, and Asp’s eyes widened as he glanced over at Billy. Billy raised an eyebrow and cocked his chin toward the phone.

  “Alpha, mission complete, but there are complications,” Asp spoke as he acknowledged Billy’s silent request.

  “Standby,” Alpha barked, and Asp snapped his mouth shut.

  “Archangel online.”

  Shit, the boss of all bosses. Asp wiped his hand over his forehead. “Sir, mission complete with complications.”

  “Bring us up to speed.” Archangel’s distinct voice grated over the line.

  Asp laid out the mission from start to taking out Halo One-One.

  “Why didn’t you call in before now?” Anubis asked when Asp paused in his narrative.

  “I was shot.”

  “By who?” Archangel and Alpha asked at the same time.

  “By me.” Billy chimed in.

  There was silence on the phone. Complete silence. Asp assumed he’d been muted and the others were having a conversation that he couldn’t hear. “Couldn’t keep your mouth shut could you, Bill?”

  “What’s the fun in that? Do you think I broke them?” Billy got that stupid half smile on his face that Asp remembered so well.

  “Authenticate, Noodle.” Anubis came across the connection demanding Asp reconfirm his safety.

  “Lasagna.” Asp sighed as Billy burst out laughing.

  “If you’re done with the chitchat, I need a full debrief. Leave nothing out.” Archangel demanded.

  “Yes, sir.” Asp told them about Lyric and her grandfather, their attempt at leaving and what brought Asp back to the camp. He told them about Billy and about their connection and what the CIA had done to both of them. He finished with his observations on the camp and his signal to Billy.

  “Mr. Pearson?” Alpha asked, and Billy’s head popped up.

  “I haven’t been called that in a long time, sir.” Billy looked at Asp and mouthed, ‘How do they know that?’

  He shrugged his shoulders. His assumption was Bengal’s wife was listening and mining data as they spoke, but that was just an educated guess.

  “If you were here, I’d have you in a conference room, and I’d debrief you for days. I don’t have that kind of time. I need to know what you know, and I need to know it now.” Archangel’s voice whipped the command across the connection, snapping the air with authority.

  Billy clamped his lips shut and shook his head before he responded, “With all due respect, sir...”

  “That means he has no respect for you, by the way.” Alpha dropped that chip shot
in as Billy gathered his thoughts.

  “With all due respect,” Billy repeated before he continued, “I don’t know who is telling the truth in this matter. I know Mac. He’s never lied to me, but it’s been years, and he was supposed to be dead. I want to talk to Deputy Director Munson. He was section chief when I was first recruited. When I talk to him, and he tells me the shit we are doing down here is illegal, I’ll tell you what I know.”

  “Done.” Archangel agreed immediately. “Give me five minutes to track him down and wake his ass up.”

  The line went quiet again. Asp leaned against the nearest tree.

  “If this story you’re spinning is true…”

  “It isn’t a story.” Asp interrupted.

  Billy sat up and stared back at Asp. “If Munson provides validation, and right now I have a lot of reasons to doubt he will, but if he does, the other American advisers down there in that camp? I’d bet my left nut they’ve been played just like I was.”

  “Like Durbin?” Asp lifted an eyebrow as he asked.

  Billy laughed and shook his head. “No, he’s a hired merc and not a very good one at that. No, there are five others down there, company men. I’ve worked with most of them for years.”

  “Can you get word to them?” Bengal’s voice floated from the phone.

  Billy shrugged. “I could go back in. Talk to them one at a time.”

  “That would put you at risk. What if they aren’t being duped? No, I won’t jeopardize one of our assets.”

  “Again, with all due respect,” Billy started, and Alpha busted a not so humorous laugh across the connection.

  “Right, your lack of respect is noted Mr. Pearson, but when we get Deputy Director Munson on the line, and he authenticates our claims, you will be working for us, either as a loan from the CIA, or if you are no longer employed by them, you’ll be under Guardian’s authority. Both ways, you are my asset, and I don’t gamble with my men. Ever.”