Rogue Operator

by J. Robert Kennedy

  Morrison nodded and closed his eyes, a frustrated sigh escaping.

  “We have a bigger problem than just three kidnapped or defecting scientists.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “We have a problem within the agency, or within the government.”

  Kane’s eyebrows shot up.

  “You mean, who orchestrated this?”

  “Exactly. We have a military transport that was used, BlackTide personnel on scene. This is not the North Koreans extracting a group of scientists, their families, and their equipment. This is Americans extracting them.”

  “Americans with connections.”

  “Military and government connections,” agreed Morrison. “I don’t know how far up this goes, or how far out, which means I don’t know who to trust.”

  “Start with me.”

  “Already done, or I would have signaled that nice man standing behind you in the window to put a bullet in your head.”

  Kane nearly jumped, looking behind him. One of the security detail was standing at the window, gun aimed directly at him. Kane smiled and waved. The man didn’t respond. Kane turned back to Morrison who waved the man off. Another glance by Kane revealed the rear deck now empty.

  “Let me guess,” he said, “you’re supposed to signal them within a few minutes that everything is okay?”

  Morrison’s head bobbed with a smile.

  “Negative option security. No buttons to press, no codes to send, no secret signals. Just do nothing, and your security detail comes running. Discretely.”

  “I’ll have to keep that in mind.”

  “You do that. It just might keep you alive.”

  Kane chuckled.

  “Speaking of. If they’re under the type of security I’m guessing they’re under, I might not be able to get them out, and might not be able to get close enough to eliminate them. What are the chances of having a package delivered?”

  “Missile strike?”

  “Or air.”

  “I wouldn’t count on it, at least not in a timely manner. Especially not without knowing how widespread this conspiracy is, and what its purpose is.”

  “You know, I can think of one person you can completely trust that could find this out for you.”

  Morrison smiled through half his mouth.

  “I assume you’re talking about my security leak?”

  “I water boarded him until he spilled his secrets.”

  “Riight. Anyway, I’m way ahead of you.”

  “How’s that?”

  Morrison’s smile spread across his face.

  “I’m having him tested right now.”

  Sherrie White Residence, Roosevelt Towers, Falls Church, Virginia

  “I assume you like ice cream?”

  Chris Leroux stood almost like a statue at the entrance to the kitchen. He wasn’t sure what was going on, but in all his years, he had never been invited back to a girl’s place on a first date. He stepped back, out of sight, and took a quick sniff of his pits.

  Clear!

  He stepped back inside, within sight of Sherrie.

  “Um, yeah, sure.”

  She beamed a smile at him that would have dropped his pants if he were more certain of what was about to happen. Maybe dessert is just dessert. He wish he knew what was happening. This was happening fast. Too fast. In fact, if he had known she was this type of girl, he probably wouldn’t have been interested in her. He wanted a relationship, something that might lead to a bigger commitment down the road, not some first date wham bam thank you ho. A kiss? Absolutely. Maybe a little bit more than a kiss, like a bit of a make-out session in the front seat of his car? Shwing! But in her apartment right after dinner, her preparing dessert, leading to God knows what?

  He took a deep breath, trying to calm his racing heart.

  “You okay?”

  His eyes focused on her, everything having been a blur in his panic.

  “Sure.”

  She poured what looked like raspberries into a small pot on the stove, and added a few spoonsful of sugar.

  “This will take a few minutes,” she said. “I hope you like ice cream with hot raspberry sauce.”

  “Who doesn’t?”

  In fact, he had never had it before, and he imagined it would be quite sour, but perhaps the combination of the sweet ice cream with the sour raspberries, muted with the sugar he had seen her add, was the entire point.

  It might actually be good.

  “Why don’t you take your shoes off, loosen that tie, and gently stir this for me. Just make sure it doesn’t stick to the bottom of the pot. I’m going to slip into something more comfortable.”

  Chris nodded and took the proffered wooden spoon, and began to stir.

  “Slowly. You don’t want to break up the berries.”

  “Uh. Sorry.”

  Chris slowed down his swirl, and focused on the berries, trying not to imagine the object of his desires naked on the other side of the wall ten feet away.

  Something stirred.

  And he stirred the raspberries with a little more vigor, then, catching himself, slowed down.

  He wiped his brow.

  “Now, that’s better.”

  He turned toward the voice and he wouldn’t have been more surprised if she were wearing a leather thong and bra, with nail studded chaps while sporting a whip and twirling a pair of handcuffs on one finger. Instead she was wearing light gray track pants and a loose fitting sweater, with her hair tied up in a ponytail.

  He stirred.

  “Hope you don’t mind me going über-casual. I just had to get out of those darned work clothes.”

  Chris shrugged, wondering if the leather was underneath the baggy clothes. She sashayed over and took the spoon from his hand, expertly swirling it through the slowly bubbling raspberries.

  “Good job,” she said, patting him on the cheek.

  “Uh, thanks.”

  “Can you get the ice cream out of the freezer for me?” She nodded toward the fridge, and Chris obeyed, almost on autopilot, his imagination going wild as he tried to stop picturing what treasures might await him under the baggy gym clothes. He pulled out a tub of Dreyer’s Slow Churned Vanilla, and placed it on the counter. “Bowls?” Her chin pointed at the cupboard beside the fridge, and he retrieved two. Spoons and the ice cream scoop were next. “Two scoops for me please.”

  He doled out the ice cream into both bowls, then when finished, he returned the ice cream to the freezer as she drizzled both bowls with the hot raspberry concoction. She handed him his bowl, took hers, then left the kitchen, motioning with her head for him to follow.

  He found her dropping onto a couch in her living room, and she patted the other end, leaving him little choice but to share the couch, rather than take a safer chair nearby.

  “Let me know what you think,” she said, nodding toward the ice cream Chris had almost forgotten as he caught sight of her bare feet curled up under her.

  He took a spoonful and put it into his mouth. The harsh cold of the ice cream, blended with the heat from the raspberries, the sweet and tartness, all combined into a delicious sensation that had his eyebrows racing up his forehead, and his eyes opening wide in pleasure.

  “I think he likes it.”

  Chris swallowed and smiled.

  “Delicious.”

  “Good, you can stay.”

  What did she mean by that? The night? Stay the night? Or was it just a joke? A harmless little play on words that you’re reading far too much into?

  She took her own first spoonful and savored it with her eyes closed. The moan that escaped her lips turned him into Jell-O, and things began to stir once again.

  He focused on his ice cream.

  And let out his own moan.

  She smiled.

  “Good, isn’t it?”

  His head bobbed, his eyes never leaving the bowl.

  “So, you were going to tell me how you met this agent. No prying eyes or ears here.” She took an
other spoonful, this time the moan had him on fire, where if he were asked to stand for some reason, he’d be forced to refuse. It reminded him of high school, and the lesson every teenage boy needed to learn. Never wear track pants during puberty.

  I’ll take the zero, sir.

  His situation almost made him forget the words that had just been spoken.

  Again with Kane!

  “Umm, I think it’s best we forget I said anything. You know, we’re not supposed to talk about them. And I wouldn’t want it getting out that I had said anything, it might get him in trouble.”

  “Just a second,” said Sherrie as she put her bowl aside and stood up. She walked past him, her hand dragging over his shoulder then neck, then disappointingly leaving him longing for her touch. His heart hammered in his chest as he thought of her continued questioning, combined with his sexual frustration and own self-doubt and shyness. As his thoughts spiraled out of control, his mind threatened to lose itself in a gush of hormonal confusion. He feared one more touch, one more moan, would send him over the edge, and he’d spew forth the answers to any questions she might ask him.

  Kane, I’m sorry!

  International Cooperation Center, Somewhere in North Korea

  Three Days after the Kidnappings

  “I thought you were dead!”

  Jason Peterson jumped from his chair and embraced his friend. Moments later he felt Carl’s arms around them both, as the three friends were reunited. Jason didn’t care where they were, or their current situation. No matter what, things had just improved, this the first good thing to have happened since falling out of the boat.

  “What happened to you?” asked Carl.

  “Yeah, I could have sworn they ran you down in the boat!”

  Phil Hopkins smiled, extricating him from the tangle of arms, then motioned at the seats they had just vacated. Jason sat down, never taking his eyes off his friend, who then pulled up a chair, the three of them forming a triangle, while their handlers looked on, saying nothing.

  “Are you okay?” asked Jason.

  Phil nodded, waving his hand as he crossed his leg, getting comfortable.

  “Absolutely. There’s no way they’re going to harm any of us.”

  Jason wasn’t sure how he could come to that conclusion. After all, they had been kidnapped, and from what Maggie had whispered to him last night, the kidnapping of the families seemed quite violent.

  “What are you talking about? They kidnapped us. And our families!”

  Carl seemed to be thinking the same thing.

  “Nobody was hurt, right?”

  Jason rubbed his nose, the two black eyes he had seen in the mirror this morning seeming to contradict Phil.

  Phil waved at Jason’s nose. “Fine, not hurt badly.”

  “You seem to be taking this awfully well,” said Jason. “We’re in North Korea for Christ’s sake! We’ve been kidnapped against our will!”

  Phil cleared his throat.

  “I’m fully aware of where we are, and why. And…well…not all of us were taken against our will.”

  Jason felt his chest tighten, and his jaw drop.

  “What the hell are you talking about?” exploded Carl. “Don’t tell me you have something to do with this!”

  The handlers seemed to all take a step forward, but Phil waved them off.

  “It’s okay,” he said to them. “They’ll just take some time to adjust. Perhaps if I could speak to them alone?”

  The one who had accompanied Phil appeared to be in charge, and nodded. The three men left the room, leaving the three old “friends” together. Jason was rapidly reevaluating his friendship for one of the trio, however.

  Phil leaned forward and lowered his voice.

  “Listen, I was approached a few months ago about working for a Chinese company. I got wind that the project was going to be cut—”

  “That was just a rumor,” interrupted Carl.

  “They showed me memos proving it wasn’t a rumor. The project was going to be shut down. Christ, we pretty much bankrupted the company with the EMP. They were going to kill the project, cut us, and all of our work, our life’s work, would be gone.”

  “We could have continued somewhere else,” said Jason.

  “What? On a top secret project that we had signed agreements saying we wouldn’t do just that?”

  Jason shrugged his shoulders, unable to argue with Phil’s correct assessment of the situation. They had signed their lives away, for the chance to work on the ultimate project that could revolutionize mankind. None of them had really considered what might happen if it were shelved, or if they were canned.

  Phil continued. “The Chinese were willing to let me continue, so I said yes. Then a few weeks later I had a visitor, who offered me ten million dollars to come work for them instead, but I’d only receive the payment if I succeeded within a year of replicating what we had done a few months ago—minus the coding error, of course.” Phil smiled and chuckled. Alone.

  Jason could feel his blood start to boil. Phil had sold his soul to the Devil, and now he and his family were part of his get rich quick scheme.

  “So why are we here? You’re willing to be a traitor to your country, but I never signed up for that.”

  Phil looked at Jason, his smile gone.

  “They asked me what I needed to succeed. I told them I needed you two, and the lab. They agreed.”

  “And it didn’t occur to you to ask us first?” Carl looked at Jason, his eyes expressing the incredulity he too felt. “And why our families? My God, why would you involve them?”

  “First, I knew you’d say no. You two are far too patriotic to have ever considered working for the Chinese. And second, I knew you wouldn’t be able to concentrate if you were worrying about your families. So the solution seemed obvious. Bring you both here, with your families for a year or two, then once we succeeded, we’d be let go, ten million dollars richer.”

  “You mean you’d be ten million richer.”

  Phil shook his head.

  “No, they agree to pay us each ten million.”

  Jason let out a burst of air.

  “Ten million to put this technology in the hands of our enemy. North Korea? Are you fucking kidding me?”

  Phil’s head dropped slightly and he looked at the floor.

  “Well, I have to admit I didn’t realize the second guys were from North Korea. I thought they were another Chinese competitor. But once I found out the truth, I realized it didn’t matter. The deal still stood, and now all we have to do is deliver.”

  Jason wanted to tear out Phil’s throat. How could he be so naïve? How could he be so stupid? So selfish?

  “And if we don’t.”

  Phil shook his head, waving his hands in front of him, his voice dropping to a whisper.

  “Don’t even suggest that. I asked them, and they said they’ll kill your families. Slowly.”

  Jason felt his mouth fill with bile as Carl jumped from his chair and belted Phil across the jaw.

  Leif Morrison Residence, River Oaks Drive, Mclean, Virginia

  Today, Five Days after the Kidnappings

  “What do you mean you’re having him tested?”

  Morrison held up his hand and fished his phone out of his pocket. He looked at the call display and his eyebrows bounced slightly.

  “Speaking of…”

  He pressed the talk button and put the phone to his ear, leaving Kane to hear only one side of the conversation.

  “Go ahead…has he revealed anything…how far have you taken it…I don’t care if you like him, you have your orders…that’s the job, whether you like it or not…I hope so…you’ve got thirty minutes to break him.”

  Morrison hung-up and put the cellphone on the table beside the empty beer bottle.

  “Why don’t you get us another beer, and I’ll explain?”

  Kane frowned, but stood up, collecting the empties, then retrieving two more beers from the fridge in the adjacent kitchen.
He opened them, pocketing the caps, then stepped back into the living room to find Morrison still in his chair, but on his phone.

  “—be arriving within an hour. Show them in when they arrive.”

  He ended the call and returned the phone to the table. Kane handed him his beer, then returned to his chair. Taking a swig, he motioned for Morrison to continue.

  “You were saying?”

  “I trust Chris, but he’s young, and I’m afraid, easily turned. Put a pretty young thing in the cubicle next to him, and he’s liable to spill his guts. Or threaten him, and he’ll not only shit his pants, but, spill his guts. I need to know what he’s capable of.”

  “And you’re testing him right now?”

  “Yes.”

  “How?”

  Morrison looked at his watch.

  “Right now? I’m guessing the temptation phase is in full swing.”

  Sherrie White Residence, Roosevelt Towers, Falls Church, Virginia

  He heard her footsteps gently tap across the floor behind him. He was about to look when he heard a giggle.

  “Close your eyes!”

  He complied, his heart racing, and he felt the bowl of forgotten ice cream taken from him, a slight clank as it was placed on the glass living room table.

  “Now sit up.”

  He thought he already was, but he sat up more erect, correcting his posture, and felt hands on his shoulders, then some pressure as he suddenly carried her weight for a moment as she seemed to climb onto the couch. Before he realized what was happening, she was tucked in behind him, her legs wrapped around his waist, her hands on his shoulders, kneading them like dough.

  “Undo your shirt.”

  Chris complied. He couldn’t help it. She was too beautiful, he was too weak, and God, he wanted this so badly. He didn’t care if he was being played anymore, he just wanted this.

  “Lift your arms,” she whispered, and he did, the shirt pulled up and over his head. He felt her breath on his back as she returned to massaging his shoulders. Her feet, tantalizingly close to the stone statue in his pants, moved with her ministrations as she gently rocked her entire body, causing his to move in rhythm with hers.