Delta Force Desire

by C. J. Miller

  “The Locker. Incognito has already hacked in, controlling what we can see. They are manipulating at least part of it. If they gain control of the final piece, we’re screwed. They can manipulate our systems, and our military is heavily reliant on certain technologies to stay ahead of the enemy. If the enemy is inside, it’s harder to defend.”

  Terrifying implications. “If I get you to the access point, can you fix this? Can you give control of the Locker back to the Americans?” he asked.

  Kit pressed her hands together and brought them to her forehead. “I don’t know. I want to say yes. I know you want me to say yes. But I don’t know.”

  He made a quick decision based on instinct more than logic. “Only one way to find out. I’ll get you there, and you’ll do your best.”

  * * *

  Her best might not be enough. The Locker had been created and engineered by the sharpest minds in the world. It was built to prevent intrusions and stop attempts at disabling it. It had been compromised. What could she do now?

  She had to shut down the Locker and keep it from being copied or used against them. But what about the files—and the people—it was protecting?

  Incognito could already be copying every kilobyte of data they could access. American agencies and the Department of Defense had been relying on the Locker to handle their security threats and concerns. Without it, many people were in danger. Undercover identities and top secret missions would be made public knowledge.

  It was humid, and the sounds of whistling and explosions filled the air. An airplane burst into flames overhead, debris showering down.

  Griffin held her against him. “Are you sure it’s worth taking the time to look for the Locker?”

  Kit couldn’t let the Locker be turned against them. “It’s worth it.”

  “Tell me what to look for,” Griffin said.

  “I remember some specifications from the original design. The location won’t be too close to the shoreline, because it’s underground and that would make keeping it dry harder. It would pull a significant amount of power, and while it might run over a wireless connection, there will be at least some cables running to the bunker for light and air conditioning,” Kit said.

  “If it needs power, we’ll start at the generator. We’ll follow the lines to the bunker,” Griffin said.

  A great plan. “Agreed.”

  The power station would be a target for Incognito to strike at, as was their modus operandi. Taking it out would result in more panic.

  Kit stepped up her pace, determination driving her.

  The power station was small but efficient. While generators were installed around the island, running on propane, solar and gasoline, the prime energy source was this location. The Locker would have secondary backup power sources.

  Guards were on post, watching the sky. She and Griffin didn’t need to get inside the power station. They made a wide perimeter around the station and found several heavy power lines leading away from it.

  “Which one should we follow?” Kit asked. They were pressed for time, and making the wrong decision would cost them.

  “Based on where they’re leading, I’m thinking that one,” Griffin said.

  The line Griffin had selected was running away from the beach. “It was my top pick, too.”

  Griffin adjusted his backpack on his shoulders. “Let’s go, then.”

  * * *

  The farther they moved through the jungle, the more Kit welcomed the coolness of the night air. If only the air wasn’t so still. The power line had disappeared underground and they had continued in the same direction, hoping it led to the Locker.

  Griffin handed her a water bottle. “Drink.”

  She accepted it and took a long swallow. “Are you sure we aren’t walking in circles?”

  “Not according to my compass,” Griffin said.

  “Can we take a break for a few minutes?” Kit asked. They had been keeping a relentless pace, and while Griffin seemed comfortable, Kit wasn’t in nearly as good shape.

  Without waiting for an answer, she sat on the ground. “Watch for fire ants,” Griffin said.

  She rose quickly and brushed at her arms. “Now my skin is crawling.”

  “Were you bitten?” Griffin asked.

  “No. But I hate being outdoors.”

  “Hadn’t noticed,” Griffin said. “Focus on finding the bunker and what you’ll do when we arrive. We don’t know how much time we’ll have. We won’t be the only ones looking for it.”

  Kit brushed her hair away from her face. She had been composing a list of steps and tricks to try if any of them didn’t work. “Is this exciting enough work for you?”

  Griffin stared at her for a long moment. “My primary concern is your safety.”

  “How would I do this without you?” She needed him. She always would. Why couldn’t he see that?

  “We should get moving. When it gets pitch-black, it will be that much harder to search.”

  He didn’t want to discuss it. Point taken. Kit followed behind him, trying not to fixate on his blow-off. Why was it so hard for him to talk about problems?

  The bunker announced itself with a two feet high metal gate about twenty feet in diameter. The hum of the ground near the circle indicated something was happening in this area, likely a power source, an air-conditioning unit and water control. “This has to be it,” Kit said.

  “Or it’s a sewage collection area and we’re about to get a very disgusting surprise,” Griffin said.

  Kit dug for the access panel. She had to get the bunker open. “Help me look. There should be an access panel somewhere. The lock is electronic. My prints should open it.”

  Griffin helped her dig in the dirt around the perimeter, moving leaves and twigs. They found the lock two feet from the bunker, covered in layers of rotting leaves and mud. Kit twisted off the top of the panel to access the biometric reader.

  She prayed it would accept her fingerprints.

  “Get your hands in the air.” A voice with a thick accent.

  Kit glanced over her shoulder. Not American soldiers. Three of Incognito’s mercenaries had made it to the island, and they had found the bunker, too. She and Griffin were in trouble, outnumbered and outgunned.

  Kit was useless in a fight, but she had to destroy the Locker. Better to disable it than let it fall into enemy hands.

  “We’re here for the Locker and Kit Walker. Don’t make this harder than it needs to be.” The man who had issued the first threat had spoken. He was the tallest and largest in the group.

  “Kit is spoken for.” Griffin sprang into action.

  Kit had seen Griffin fight, but she was riveted by how he moved. He disarmed the leader first, taking his gun from him and landing several punches and kicks. The man fell to the ground. Without the instructions of their leader, one of the men rushed at Griffin and the other at her. Griffin grabbed her attacker before he could touch her, earning himself a punch to the face by the other.

  “Get in that bunker and do what you need to do!” Griffin said, still wrestling with the last assailant.

  Kit laid her hand over the access panel and punched in her PIN.

  Griffin stumbled back, blood pouring from his cheek. Her heart twisted violently, and anger rose inside her.

  Griffin took a kick to the stomach and grabbed the man’s leg, lifting him, twisting and slamming his body to the ground.

  Kit heard the lock disengage on the bunker.

  Throwing branches and brushing leaves from the door, she tugged on the handle. The door was stuck, rusty and heavy. She pulled with everything she had.

  Griffin grabbed hold and hauled it open.

  “You’re bleeding,” she said. Blood ran from his cheek. It was too dark to assess his injuries fully, but he
had taken every hit meant for her.

  “I’m fine. Get to work. I’ll guard you.”

  “You’re staying out here?” she asked.

  “Incognito knows about the bunker, and they know who you are and that you’re here. You’re in grave danger. Destroy the Locker. Quickly.”

  With trembling legs, Kit descended the narrow ladder into the bunker. She fell the last three feet, slipping on the metal. The small room, four by four, smelled of wet earth, but the equipment was sealed in plastic containers and vented through a pipe behind them.

  “Any progress?” Griffin’s voice.

  She hadn’t touched the computer. Focusing, she stood in front of the retinal scanner and placed her hand on the fingerprint reader. A keyboard slid out from the system. How had Incognito bypassed the biometric security on the other pieces of the Locker?

  The weight of her actions pressed down on her. If she disabled the Locker, lives were at stake. If she didn’t, Incognito would take complete control of it and master it, and the result was the same. Worse, they would use the full power of it against the United States.

  Her heart pounded. She had to find another solution.

  Every attempt to access top secret systems passed through the Locker, checking credentials. There was no other way to obtain classified documents.

  If she barraged the Locker with requests for access, the Locker would register too many requests as a brute force attack and lock everything down. It would issue a warning to the system owners of the suspected attack and to take the systems it protected off-line.

  Could she simulate a brute force attack and trip the Locker into lockdown mode? It would be a major problem for system administrators at the CIA, NSA, FBI and black ops. It was the best solution under the circumstances.

  She searched for unsecured computers on the network, which would be suspicious to the Locker. She wrote a shell script to send requests for document access. Millions of requests, one after another from a dozen computers.

  “We have more visitors,” Griffin said. He closed the door to the bunker. The only light was from the computer screen. In the lower right-hand corner was a star, a nod to the mastermind behind the Locker. Stargazer had gone absolutely stark-raving mad during the project and had been hospitalized. He’d tried to kill himself twice. The pressure this project had put on the team had been immense. Was she destined for the same fate as Stargazer and Arsenic? Either a life on the run or a life in a sanatorium?

  She could hear gunfire and shouting. Was Griffin safe?

  With her scripts running and generating increasing traffic loads, she scaled the rungs of the ladder and opened the hatch.

  Griffin was now bleeding from his mouth. His body would be covered in bruises. Unconscious or dead bodies littered the ground around him.

  “I’m finished. I am forcing the Locker to shut down access to every classified system in the United States.”

  “Won’t that cause a problem?”

  Many angry bureaucrats and senators and system administrators. Military groups would move to their downtime procedures and be stuck using less than real-time data. “It was our best option.”

  “Then let’s beat feet. We’re not safe yet.”

  * * *

  The helicopter Griffin had pinpointed as an escape method was miles away. Those miles would be dangerous, taking them back toward the main base, where the fighting had been most fervid. Griffin had nothing to disguise her. Finding a military uniform would be impossible in the chaos. Hiding could leave them cornered, and if the bombing continued, the area would lay in ruins.

  Griffin had most of his rounds in his gun. He would save them for when they were necessary to protect Kit.

  Jogging along the path, Kit stopped, panting, resting her hands on her knees. “I need to break. Just for a minute. I need to think.”

  “If you don’t run, I’ll carry you. Come on, Kit, you can do this.” She had done so well. She wasn’t accustomed to working in war zones, and her body wasn’t primed for long bouts of exertion. He needed to keep her motivated. Surviving this was a mental game, and mental quickness and sharpness were things Kit had in spades. He tried to tap into that. “I’ve seen you do the impossible. Let’s take this all the way.”

  She accepted his outstretched hand and ran behind him. The sound of off-road vehicles approaching cut through the gunfire. Griffin pulled Kit off the main path. Branches scratched at him as he moved into the vegetation. He tried to protect her from the brush. He squatted on the ground, watching and using the leaves and green to blend.

  Unmarked vehicle after vehicle passed them. Had they been deployed to protect physical access to the Locker? Were they part of the United States military or Incognito’s mercenaries?

  “Any chance they can undo whatever you did?” Griffin asked.

  She shook her head. “I need the sat phone.”

  He handed it to her and she started typing.

  “What are you doing?” he asked.

  “Checking if my plan worked,” she said. “Which it did.” Relief emanated from her voice.

  “Do you have a way to show a satellite image above us? It’ll be rough getting to the chopper blind.”

  She twisted her lips in thought. “Overhead images were distorted by the Locker as an additional security measure. I could redirect an active satellite to fly over. With the Locker down, we can get an accurate picture.” She had a mischievous look in her eyes.

  “We’ve pissed off most of the intelligence community today. Why not piss them off a little more?” Griffin asked.

  He wouldn’t make excuses for the choices he and Kit had made to protect themselves and the Locker. They had done the best they could with the resources they had. He doubted that would stand up in court if charges were filed, but he couldn’t think about that now. Treason. It was an ugly word, but heads would roll over this and likely, his would be one of them.

  When the vehicles were out of sight, he and Kit ventured back onto the path. Kit held the phone, looking at the display. She pointed ahead. “Let’s continue in this direction and wait for the phone to receive the redirected input.”

  Vehicle noises sounded on the road. They took shelter and waited for them to pass.

  A twig snapped behind him. Griffin turned. A man in dark camo was approaching, a knife in one hand and a gun in the other. Griffin moved in front of Kit.

  The assailant’s dark green outfit gave nothing away. Was he with Incognito or an American?

  “Not another step,” Griffin said.

  The man said something he didn’t understand but pointed at Kit and spoke her name. When he lifted his arm, his sleeve moved, revealing a spear tattoo. Incognito. Using his gun would bring other Incognito mercenaries running in their direction.

  Griffin kicked the man’s gun from his hand. It flew overhead and disappeared into the foliage. The assailant swung his knife, and Griffin dodged it. The man stabbed forward and Griffin pivoted, grabbing his arm, breaking it and slamming the assailant’s forearm against his knee, forcing the knife out of his hand.

  The assailant screamed in pain. Griffin robbed him of his comm device. “Kit, let’s move.” No reason to kill the Incognito operative. Without his device, he couldn’t call for backup. A bonus was having access to the enemy’s communication system.

  He and Kit kept a brisk pace. The chopper was in this vicinity, but it was increasingly harder to gain his bearings in the darkness.

  Kit caught his arms. “Griffin, I messed with some big, important systems. I locked out applications that people rely on. Someone will be punished for this. Someone will have to take the blame, and that someone will be me.”

  He wouldn’t let her shoulder the blame. “I’ll cop to it. Or you and I can disappear for a few months and let the anger die down. Then I’ll step forward and take res
ponsibility.”

  Kit pressed a finger over his lips. “A few months or a year won’t make a difference. My credentials were used. The government will know it was me. I’m looking at jail time, and I need to say this to you. Thank you for what you’ve done for me. Thank you for keeping me safe. I never expected it, but I’ve fallen in love with you. I love you, Griffin.”

  She’d pulled the pin on an emotional grenade and lobbed it in his direction. This was an extraordinary situation, and she was scared and tired. “You’re not in love with me.” If it wasn’t the situation bringing emotions to the surface, it was the sex. They’d had great sex. Once-in-a-lifetime sex. Sex wasn’t love, and she was confusing the two.

  Her jaw slackened, and she set her hand over her heart. “How can you say that to me? You don’t know how I feel.”

  He sensed a fight brewing and wanted to diffuse it. This wasn’t the time or place to argue. “You’re right. I don’t know how you feel. I think you’re misinterpreting what we have for love.”

  She shook her head. “You are making this hard when it’s a simple thing.”

  Relationships were never simple. So many responsibilities and obligations he couldn’t fulfill. Beth had died. Griffin hadn’t been able to protect her. “We’ll talk about this later.”

  Her hand sliced through the air. “There might not be a later, Griffin. That’s why I wanted to say it to you now.”

  Griffin shook off the heaviness that sat on his shoulders. “We’ll survive this. I won’t consider other options.”

  * * *

  A cramp in her side and a fracture in her heart. Griffin didn’t love her. He never would. He didn’t believe that she loved him.

  Why had she said anything? Kit should have kept her trap shut and hoped that they would eventually find themselves together and out of danger. That would have been a better time to evaluate her emotions and talk with Griffin. But she’d rushed into the confession, not thinking he would outright deny her feelings or reject her.

  The weight of what she had done to the Locker settled onto her. The heads of the CIA, FBI, NSA and black ops would be furious with her. They might send assassins for her. They’d want someone punished.