by Lewis, Rykar
“Yow,” Solomon moaned when he fell to the ground.
“Are you okay?” Parks asked, stepping toward him.
Solomon’s only answer was to reach up and pull Parks down next to him. With the two of them down, they began to practice some on-the-ground moves. As Solomon rolled up and tried to punch Parks, Parks pushed his arm out and gripped Solomon around the throat. He then yanked the agent down to his left just as Solomon wrapped his hands around Parks’ hand and began bending it, which resulted in great pain on Parks’ part.
It all ended up in a tangled up mess, and both men could not control their laughter as they stood up and shook hands in approval.
“Well that went over like a – what did you say – like a fart in church,” Parks joked, slapping Solomon on the arm.
“Yup, yup,” Solomon exclaimed with utter glee. “It did, it did. That was fun, KP.”
“Yeah. Well who’s next?”
“I’ll go,” Norse offered.
“Who’ll be your opponent?” Solomon wondered.
“I guess Marler will do.”
“Okay,” Parks approved as he stepped aside. “But remember; let’s keep it fun; it’s only training.”
Norse didn’t shoot his usual icy glare at Parks but merely did a short nod. “Will do,” he promised as he did some last-minute stretches.
The two agents went at it and Parks flipped open his cell phone to make sure no one had tried to call. To his relief, no one had so he closed the phone and concentrated on the training at hand.
40
Tuesday, March 25th – 1230 hours
Roswell, New Mexico
Roswell, New Mexico was known for having been the landing destination of aliens, and now it was not just a hoax, it was the dwelling place of the illegal alien/terrorist, Ghazi Siraj. Sitting in an extended-stay hotel, Siraj was doing his best to figure a way to clear his record and start anew in America. He had gone over everything from turning himself in, to getting U.S. Citizenship, to trying to dodge the law for the rest of his life. Nothing seemed particularly promising.
At least there was one thing to be happy about: there was no more terrorism for him. Oh, he’d convinced his team that he was just going to hide out until the coast was clear, but that wasn’t the case. Siraj was completely done. He had dropped off his team around northern New Mexico, telling each of them to fend for themselves and to report all activity to him. Each man had a satellite phone that he had received at the start of the operation, and that was to be his signaling device should anything go wrong. Siraj could remember telling them that he was heading for the Pueblo, Colorado area, and that he would contact vun Buvka and let him know what had become of the operation. In truth, he had contacted vun Buvka but he hadn’t let him know where he or his terrorists were located.
Now only one thing could go wrong with his scheme: should vun Buvka ever contact the team Siraj was grossly aware that he would be exposed and ultimately executed.
Siraj turned off the irritating TV and walked into his kitchen. Almost immediately, someone knocked on his door.
Siraj made sure his pistol was close by and went to answer it. When he unlocked the door and opened it, he almost passed out at what he saw. There in front of him, looking as pleasant as ever, was Alka vun Buvka.
* * *
“You know, Ghazi,” vun Buvka said as he stood in the hallway of the hotel, “you must have taken a wrong turn while trying to get to Pueblo, Colorado.”
“I can explain.”
“You’d better,” he warned as he pushed Siraj aside and entered the room. “Although I already know everything you could explain.”
Siraj’s tongue was tied. How had vun Buvka found him and why? In fact, how had he gotten here?
“You never were good with directions,” vun Buvka proceeded carelessly. “But I thought maybe you could read a map.”
“I know I told my team I was going to Colorado, but I changed my mind, that’s all. Why does it matter?”
“I’m not just talking about those directions, Ghazi. I’m also addressing why you didn’t follow your orders. Were they not clear enough? Or were they too frightening for you to obey?”
Siraj refused to show his fear to this man. “I can tell you about everything, Mr. vun Buvka, and then you will understand.”
“You already did over the phone, remember? But why did you tell me that you and your team were lying low? Why would you do that when you really were trying to desert?”
“Desert? Is that what you think I did?”
Vun Buvka was not convinced. “I am waiting for an answer, Ghazi.”
Siraj knew why he had done it. He called because he wanted to make vun Buvka think that he was becoming a sleeper agent. He had thought that by tricking his team about his whereabouts he would never be found. Siraj had really believed that vun Buvka would never come into the U.S. to do what he was doing now.
“If you really were just lying low until the coast was clear, then why did you not go to Colorado as you said?” vun Buvka demanded. “Answer me, Siraj.”
“I told you it was because I changed my mind. Pueblo is a large city, there are many government officials looking for me there.”
“And why didn’t you call your team and tell them about your change of mind? You told them to report everything to you, so why didn’t you inform them of your whereabouts?”
Vun Buvka was doing an excellent job of holding his temper. He wanted to kill Siraj, but he was restraining himself. He had already contacted the rest of the terror team and picked them up – they were waiting outside – but he had not even attempted to call Siraj because he didn’t want him to run.
Vun Buvka had known where he was despite how hard he tried to hide. The reason Siraj’s hiding place had been exposed was because he had made the mistake of contacting vun Buvka on the satellite phone. Well, just like the expert terrorist he was, vun Buvka had sensed the man was on the brink of desertion and had decided to investigate the matter. With the help of the boss, the satellite phone call had been traced back to the very spot where the two terrorists were now. It was a good thing for vun Buvka that Siraj didn’t know that a satellite phone call could be traced, otherwise he probably wouldn’t have called from the place where he was hiding.
“The past is the past, Mr. vun Buvka, and whatever mistakes I made were simply mistakes, nothing more,” Siraj confirmed with a growing fear that his boss was going to kill him at any moment.
Although Siraj didn’t know his boss very well, he had not liked him from the first time he met him back in late January. He had a face that could not be read, and his actions didn’t betray his feelings. His ability to set up a smoke screen was an advantage to those on his side, but a problem to those who were against him like Siraj felt he now was.
“You are right, Ghazi,” vun Buvka agreed. “The past is the past. And you are history.”
In a flash, vun Buvka whipped out his pistol and Siraj could feel the barrel press up against his forehead. Then he came to the conclusion that there was nothing he could do to stop his boss from killing him.
* * *
Parks saw the knife come flying at his neck, guided by the hand of Lee. If he didn’t react quickly, the blade would reach his neck in just a matter of milliseconds. With lightning speed he ducked down just as the knife passed where he was just moments before. He then grasped Lee’s wrist just below the knife’s blade, and put his other hand around the man’s elbow. Putting his leg out for a stumbling block, he swung Lee’s body around and watched the man fall flat on his back. Parks didn’t let go of his wrist however. He quickly dove on top of Lee and worked the knife from his hand and into a position that incapacitated the agent.
“How’s that?” Parks asked Solomon as he released the plastic knife and stood to his feet.
Solomon broke into applause and smiled broadly. “Man, that was very good. You handled it like a pro.”
Parks brushed himself off and helped Lee up. “Yeah thanks, Solomon. I don�
��t know if any one of you has the time, but I can imagine it’s getting pretty late. Must be about...” Parks looked in the general direction of the sun to try and get a time estimate, “fourteen thirty.”
Solomon ran over to a bench to retrieve his cell phone and check to see if the guess was right. “Oh my goodness, how’d you do that?” he wondered in utter amazement.
“What did I just do?”
“You just made a guess that it was 1430, and get this, it’s 1434. How’d you do that, KP?”
Parks picked a grass blade and rolled it between his thumb and forefinger as he thought of a good response. “Well,” he said, “my brother and dad were experts at telling time by the sun, and I guess from being around them so much it just kinda wore off on me too. I’m not near as good as they are…were – I mean is and was.”
“Oh. Well anyway it’s way past lunchtime and that’s all I’m concerned about,” Solomon informed everyone as he shut his phone. “Do we still get an afternoon lunch break?”
“Yeah, why not? It’s my fault we were out here a little too long. Which reminds me, I really should check my email sometime soon.”
“Are you expecting trouble?” Samuels joked. “I sure hope not because I’m still trying to recover from the last operation.”
Parks shook his head. “No, I’m not expecting anything besides a headache after I’m done reading all the intel reports. There sure are a lot of them.”
“You’re tellin’ me,” Corley chimed in. “Not only are they headache inducers, but they bore the trash out of me. Half the stuff they report isn’t even worth thinking about.”
“Well, it makes them feel important I guess,” Norse suggested. “Or they think it makes us feel important, one of the two.”
“All right, all right,” Parks butted in. “Let’s forget about it and take a lunch break. We’ll break for an hour and then go back to the EEOB and work like it’s a normal day – which it is.”
Little did Parks know that it wasn’t going to be a normal day. Something was unraveling behind the scenes. Something the CIA, FBI, and Department of Homeland Security had no clue about...yet.
* * *
Siraj had been staring down vun Buvka’s pistol barrel for what seemed to be hours. Neither man was saying a thing, but then Siraj found something to state that just might save his life.
“Mr. vun Buvka, are you planning to kill me?”
“What do you think?” came the cocky response.
“Well then, do you not think the authorities will be summoned when my body is found? After all, there is no way to hide my corpse without rousing suspicion from someone. Do you really wish to blow your cover by doing that?”
Vun Buvka didn’t look disturbed at all. “Oh Ghazi, you have a horrible habit of speaking before you know what’s going on. I was not planning on killing you without a reason, and from what you say, I seem to have no reason. I was simply reminding you that I am leading this operation. I am, not you.”
Siraj wanted to believe him but he couldn’t. He knew that vun Buvka was on to his scheme, and there was no way he was going to live, one way or the other. But he went along with the game anyway and decided that it would be better to die killing Americans than to be killed for being a traitor.
“I never was under the impression that I would ever lead you, Mr. vun Buvka,” Siraj responded convincingly. “But it would be an honor to be under your leadership.”
Vun Buvka smirked and put down his gun. “Good for you, Ghazi. If you wouldn’t have offered to come, I would have killed you.”
* * *
Siraj walked out of the hotel flanked by vun Buvka. He didn’t have to look far to see the silver Suburban that would serve as the terrorists’ transport.
“Over there,” vun Buvka instructed as he pushed Siraj toward the vehicle.
Trying to pull himself together, Siraj started walking toward the Suburban and when he came close enough, he saw that there were already several men inside.
“We’ll get in the back,” vun Buvka ordered. “Oh, and say hello to your former team, Ghazi.”
Siraj’s heart was pounding as he opened a side door and climbed in the farthest seat in the back. He still felt as if vun Buvka was going to kill him when they arrived at a nice open area, and that this was all just a prelude to the inevitable. He knew there was no way to escape this time. There was nowhere to hide, nothing to say that would let himself off the hook, and nothing to face but death itself.
“Are you all right?” the terrorist in the driver’s seat asked Siraj. “You don’t look so well.”
Siraj ignored the question and looked out the window. He didn’t want to speak to anyone, he didn’t want to be near anyone, and he didn’t want to be in the U.S. at all. He needed to blame someone, anyone, for what was going on. He just couldn’t keep going like this without hating someone, or something. During the last operation, it had been his fear he chose to hate. That kept him going for as long as he had, but what was there to blame now? Siraj wasn’t sure so he just tried to think on something else and forget about what was taking place.
“Aren’t you going to ask how I got this vehicle?” vun Buvka questioned.
“No, I already know how,” Siraj countered defiantly. “Some sleeper agent had it stashed away and allowed you to use it. Am I correct?”
Vun Buvka laughed. “Ghazi, you actually figured something out. That just goes to show you that life is full of surprises.”
“And you have surprised me, Mr. vun Buvka.”
“Oh, and with what?”
Siraj paused as he contemplated the best way of approaching the topic. “I was told that you pulled off the Paramount Hotel bombing a few months ago, and obviously lived to tell about it.”
“So?”
“So why if you managed to keep your life back then would you kill yourself now? After all, someone once told me that you were a bomber, not a suicide bomber.”
“What makes you think my life will be taken on this operation?”
“Because this is a suicide bombing operation, Mr. vun Buvka. No one lives on an operation of this nature.”
Siraj could vaguely see that his leader was getting uncomfortable with the subject of death so he pressed further. “But of course we both know, it’s all for a good cause. Our relatives will always remember our sacrifice.”
Vun Buvka’s face was expressionless as he felt his blood rise to the point of boiling. He knew that his subordinate was doing this on purpose, and there was no way to stop him without showing his real fear. So he just endured it and hoped the topic would change.
“What is your plan anyway?” Siraj wondered as he began to feel confidence rise in him since even his leader, the second-ranked terrorist in the world, was getting clammy at the thought of death. “You’ll need a good one you know.”
“I know that, I’m not dumb like you, Ghazi,” vun Buvka spat back venomously. “I’ll get to that soon. But first, we have to make sure the coast is still clear.”
Pulling out a satellite phone, vun Buvka dialed the boss. When he answered, Siraj found he couldn’t hear the boss speak, but he could hear vun Buvka’s side of the conversation and piece together most of what was being said.
“Are we still clear?” he heard vun Buvka ask. “Yes, everyone’s here...No, no trouble...We’re traveling north...All right, keep us informed on everything...Goodbye.”
* * *
The thumbs-up sign came and the President took a deep breath as he looked straight into the camera. He would be addressing the Nation on the matter of the southwest border fence, and was also going to do his best to assure them that he was still doing all he could to find the perpetrators behind 1/16. White House Chief of Staff Steve Danner had insisted on the address, stating that Americans needed to be reassured that they were going to be protected. So here he was, sitting in the Oval Office without so much as a notecard to help him with his address.
“Good afternoon, Americans,” President Winnfield began perfectly. �
�It is with great pride that I address you today as your President. I have a very serious matter that I want to speak to you about. A matter which falls under the Constitutional Law that the Government of the United States must provide for the common defense of the people. A matter which this White House takes very seriously.”
“When I was in the Army, I realized that a key part of keeping Americans free, safe, and happy, was to have a strong military that helps merit the respect of other nations. Fellow Americans I tell you today, we have a strong military. But do we hold the respect of hostile nations? From the occurrences on 1/16 you see that not everyone respects us. So what do we do? After all, we just finished fighting – and winning – a war on terrorism. If you noticed, I said that a key part of keeping Americans free, safe, and happy was to have a strong military that helps merit the respect of other nations, and hostile nations in particular. But a strong military can’t do that job alone. No, I’m not talking about the civilian national security force that the previous administration hoped to make – I don’t agree with that. I’m talking about setting up critical national defense measures for our homeland, that, when coupled with our strong military, will keep our country and her citizens free, safe, and happy.”
The President leaned forward in his swivel chair, rested his elbows on his desk, and folded his hands as he started to outline his plan.
“Many of our fellow Americans on our southwest border with Mexico have experienced the pains of not being respected. I’m talking about the illegal aliens that cross our borders and harm, harass, and hate our citizens on the border towns. It’s not right, Americans, not right at all. The people that come into our country illegally should be punished, and more importantly, kept from even accomplishing the crossing. So again a question comes: what can we do to keep our southwest citizens more secure?”
“America, I would like to inform you of a project that would help achieve our goal of better national security. It is a small step, the first of many, but nevertheless a necessary step. Two administrations ago, funding was approved for a fence that would be constructed on the American/Mexican border. It was a good idea, and it should have been accomplished as quickly as possible. Well, all you have to do is travel on our southwest border and you’ll see that in many places there isn’t a fence. Why? Why did the previous two administrations not accomplish a project that already had funding? I can’t answer for my predecessors, but I can assure you that I will take the initiative and build this fence. Every one of my advisors backs my opinion, and I’m confident you do too.”
