Rise of the Pheonix: Act 2

by Gibbs, Dameon

  “DOWN!” Edge yelled, pulling at Tucker just as the remote device detonated, sending marble, concrete and metal rocketing onto the floor.

  Before the dust had a chance to settle Tucker and Edge rose to their feet and watched the stairs collapse. Both men’s faces showed their frustration that the Order had gotten away and that the mission was a complete failure. Tucker felt himself losing it; an old anger started to boil within him. He pulled out his pistol and walked towards the stairs pulling the trigger, firing every round into the space.

  He continued to pull the trigger well after all his rounds were spent; the slide locked back waiting for a new clip. Eventually, his arms dropped, his anger replaced by utter defeat. “What did we do wrong? We had them!” Tucker barked in frustration.

  “We didn’t do anything wrong. This is war,” Edge answered calmly.

  “I don’t mean to be a burden but…” they immediately turned to see Webster crumple to the floor, her right pants leg darkened with blood. A piece of shrapnel from the blast had lodged itself in her leg.

  Both Edge and Tucker bolted to her aid. Edge ripped off his sleeve and tied it around the wound to keep the pressure on it. “What next?” she asked. Before either could respond red lights began flashing throughout the building as the firewall finally failed and the security system activated, locking them on that level and within the building.

  “I guess we wait,” said Edge as building locked itself down.

  Chapter 6

  They waited over an hour until a National Guard patrol found them. Tucker had no choice but to show his CIA credentials which guaranteed that as soon as the agency received the call for confirmation, it would come to the Director’s attention. When it did, Director Winford invoked National Security to get the team, and the bodies of Crawford and Reid, released.

  Back in his office at Langley, Tucker found himself mystified by how entangled he had become in this investigation. Two agents were dead and another injured in an operation that he had approved against direct orders. An unsanctioned operation that had failed to accomplish its goal. He had no idea of how he was going to explain this to the director.

  Before he left Homestead, he had made arrangements to provide a more secure location for Arslan to be housed, especially with Reid gone. After seeing firsthand the Order’s capability for military operations, neither Tucker nor Edge felt that the Department of Homeland Security building would be capable of withstanding an assault, should the Order locate and come for the boy.

  Edge spoke to Arslan and explained that he was going someplace that was nicer and safer and that it would be better if Tucker and Edge did not know where. They knew only that the boy was going to a maximum-security safe house, the location of which was known only by the people taking him there. Arslan welcomed the change of place, but he was not happy to lose his connection to Edge, Webster and the others who had kept him informed of events. It took some persuasion by Edge but in the end, Arslan “reluctantly accepted the terms.” Tucker had to laugh when Edge phrased it that way. The boy was almost ready to step into his father’s shoes.

  As Tucker picked up the lone frame on his desk to study the picture in it, old feelings crept back in. He remembered Reid and Crawford dead; how he gazed at their motionless bodies while they lay on the cold, sterile floor of Global Trust.

  Staring at the frame the walls around him elongated and away from him at rapid speed, creating a dark tunnel. A thunderous roar drowned out all sound as the ground began to shake beneath him. A bright light developed at the tunnel’s end, rapidly approaching. Its brightness grew with intensity, swallowing up the memories of bodies and blotting out everything in his view. It was as if someone pointed a spotlight at Tucker in the dark.

  Tucker’s muscles tensed, knowing that the light meant him harm. Before it had the opportunity to strike, he heard a familiar voice calling out to him from the dark; a voice he had not heard since childhood. The voice drew him out of the tunnel, and he was back in his chair, his surroundings instantly snapping back to their original state.

  Knock, knock.

  “Who is it?” Tucker asked, emerging from his fog. His attention remained focused on the picture in the frame. Noticing a thumbprint blurred one of the faces, he took the bottom of his tie and cleaned it off.

  “Edge,” came a voice on the other side of the door.

  “One second,” he responded as he placed the picture back on the desk. “Come on in.”

  Edge leaned in and checked out the room. After a few seconds of examining the barren interior, he walked over to Tucker, dropping his backpack on the floor next to him.

  “I love what you haven’t done with the place,” Edge mocked.

  “Funny,” Tucker said unenthusiastically. He let out a slight groan as he sat upright.

  “How’s the body healing?” Edge asked.

  “I’m moving. I guess that’s saying something.”

  “Guess that’s a negative on the stuntman career?”

  Tucker just grimaced and nodded. “I would say so.”

  The two enjoyed a chuckle. Edge’s laugh was relaxed, but Tucker’s was strained. “How do you do it?” Tucker asked quietly.

  “Do what?” Edge wondered, confused.

  “Handle all the shit you’ve been through?”

  “You’re talking about Reid and Crawford?”

  The names stung at Tucker. He felt a slight loss of composure as his voice raised, “I mean everything. One minute I saw you talking with a kid about cartoons. The next you’re slamming your gun into the wound of a soldier to get information. And you act like this is a normal day at the office,” he finished, regaining his composure.

  “Well, for me it is,” Edge replied matter-of-factly.

  Tucker threw his hands in the air to punctuate his declaration. “That’s exactly what I mean!”

  Edge considered Tucker’s reaction and responded in the tone of a mentor. “Look, Tucker; you’re entering a whole new arena. Your job has protected you from this world. I can’t promise you it’s going to get easier, but I can promise you that you’re going to have more days like this.”

  “I don’t think this world is for me. I mean look, I approve one unsanctioned operation, and two people are dead, two good agents. I don’t have the mindset for this.”

  “It comes with being a leader,” Edge advised. “You’ll have to make decisions that will put people in harm’s way. The goal is not to do it wastefully. Crawford and Reid went along knowing what they were getting themselves into. Our job now is to make sure they didn’t die in vain. And like it or not you’re gonna have to see this through.”

  “Then how do you keep yourself sane through all this? I mean you’ve been doing this for a while, and you seem, well… normal.”

  Edge pondered the question for a second. It was a question he asked himself often and had been asked many times by newer team members. “First, you have to believe in what you’re doing, that you’re working to protect a cause that is just and righteous – in this case, your country – from some imminent peril. If you don’t have that kind of belief at your foundation, you’re just a mercenary.”

  “Second,” Edge continued, “You have to realize that your job is war and to understand what war means: it is the last resort when all other means of resolution have failed, and those who wish you harm will stop at nothing to achieve their goals. It’s life and death between you and them. You must not be shocked by their barbarity or by the barbarity that you must use to overcome them, and you cannot be disheartened by the losses you will inevitably incur. That doesn’t mean that you don’t care or that it doesn’t hurt, just that you know that it’s unavoidable.”

  He noticed Tucker was soaking in everything he said. Edge added, “If you have any mental reservations about either of those two things, this is not the line of work for you.”

  Tucker rubbed the bridge of his nose. I think I just said that he thought sarcastically. “Doesn’t the Geneva Convention fit in there some
where?”

  “I’m only talking about what you have to do in a kill-or-be-killed moment, when you are in mortal danger because someone is trying, one-on-one or unit-to-unit, to take your life. You have to be prepared to do whatever it takes to ensure that you are the one who survives,” Edge amended before continuing.

  “Third, you have to be at peace with what you do and to know in light of honest reflection that, even though you have had to do horrible things, you are not a horrible person. This is the hardest one, and if you begin to feel that you can’t sort it out anymore, it’s time to walk away. Believe me. As I knew someone that didn’t walk away and it destroyed him.”

  Tucker just stared back. “Dear God, you’re a philosopher, too.”

  Edge simply smiled back as Tucker’s office phone rang; Tucker answered reluctantly, not expecting good news. Edge had been studying Tucker as he spoke to him. After so many years in the military, he’d learn to tell who had it in them to stay and who would fold.

  On another occasion, he remembered a young chalk leader who lost half his team due to a decision he made. The young man was given two choices and no information whatsoever as to which was the better choice. Time was pressing, so he made a call. No one would have known it was going to lead into a trap. Afterward, many of the higher ups were expecting the young man to request a transfer.

  Edge saw the same thing in Tucker that he had seen in that young man. Even though both kept doubting whether they were cut out for the job, that wasn’t the root problem bothering them. They’re both battling their desire for revenge and doing the right thing. But can Tucker separate the two? Edge knew the answer to that and, just like the young soldier who returned to the leadership position, Tucker was not leaving anytime soon.

  “It looks like the director is ready to see us,” Tucker said with little enthusiasm as he placed the phone back on the receiver. “This is going to be fun.”

  “Just remember Tucker: we made the right call,” Edge said in an attempt to reassure his partner.

  “Winford won’t see it that way.”

  “Then we’ll have to make it clear to him,” he replied, nonplussed.

  “Good luck with that. Well let’s see how that works out for ya,” Tucker said sarcastically as the two of them left the office.

  ۞۞۞۞

  As the two exited the elevator onto the director’s floor, Tucker adjusted his tie. Wearing the shirt and tie helped to focus him, get him in the office mindset, which he very much needed at this point. Edge stayed casual in a black polo shirt and jeans.

  Like any other day, Mrs. Burton was at her desk. Tucker called out to her as he approached, “Morning, Mrs. Burton. We have…..”

  “A meeting with Director Winford, I know,” she said, finishing Tucker’s sentence. “He’s been waiting. He doesn’t look too happy, by the way, so be prepared,” she warned as Tucker grabbed two pieces of candy from the basket on her desk.

  “My favorite,” Tucker said, unwrapping the caramel treat, offering one to Edge, who politely declined. “As always, thanks for the heads up, Mrs. Burton,” he said with a smile.

  “Anytime,” she responded, her smile glowing with red lipstick. “And who’s your friend?” she asked, quickly turning her attention to Edge.

  “Forgive me; this is Sergeant Pierce.”

  “Glad to meet you, Mrs. Burton.” Edge greeted.

  “If you ever need anything just let me know. Any friend of Tucker is a friend of mine,” she said with a wink before continuing softly. “He’s expecting you. Head right on in.”

  “Thanks, Mrs. Burton,” Tucker said as he walked to the door. Edge nodded and gestured the tipping of a hat.

  Entering the room they found Director Winford standing in front of his large arched window, his back towards them, his hands resting in his pockets.

  “Gentlemen, please have a seat,” he said coldly, turning to face them. Director Winford took several moments before speaking again, confirming Mrs. Burton’s assessment of his mood. “Now tell me… what part of waiting until the morning did you fail to understand?”

  “Sir, we had viable…..” Tucker began.

  “Hold it right there,” Winford said, cutting Tucker off. “You not only disregarded my orders but the Commander-in-Chief’s as well. Furthermore, your actions resulted in two agents being killed and one wounded and you weren’t even able to prevent the bank from being robbed. To keep your asses from ending up behind bars, I had to call in a dozen markers that I could have used in some more profitable ways.”

  “It had to be done sir,” Edge interjected. “We knew their target, their purpose, and their timing. The amount of money involved was sufficient enough to fund a terrorist organization for a long time and failing to act was not on option.”

  “Whose idea was it to go in?” Winford asked staring both of them down.

  “Mine,” they both answered.

  “Cute,” he said. “Well, let me start with you, Sergeant Pierce.”

  “But sir…” Tucker tried to interject.

  “Hold your horses; you’ll get your share of this in a minute. Sergeant, I allowed you in this case to aid Tucker, not to increase the body count. Now, because of you, I have DHS so far up my ass, I feel like a damn sock puppet. You just can’t break into a quarantined zone to stop some criminals like a bunch of vigilantes. There’s a reason for all the protocols that go on before operations are green lit. And for that very reason, you do not give orders but follow them. I read through your records, the unabridged versions. You and your team are good, but I’ve noticed the times where you’ve disobeyed direct orders to complete a mission. Worked out well for you back in Iraq, but not so well in Beijing, huh?”

  Edge responded in a level tone of voice. “Sir, Tucker suspected, correctly, that Nezaket’s murder was part of a larger plan that would ultimately involve military or paramilitary forces. I was brought in to handle such events, and I feel that last night’s operation fell within my charter. No one regrets the loss of those two agents more than I do but I stand by my decision to go in.”

  Winford glared at Edge, who simply stared back with the same blank stare he’d given Tucker when they’d first met.

  “This tells me that you’re a liability,” Winford finally said. “How your commanding officers keep you on is beyond me.” Then he turned his attention to Tucker. “And how the hell, did you let him convince you to go on this chase, let alone approve it?” His tone a mixture of anger and disappointment.

  Tucker felt the sting of having disappointed someone he respected, but pushed it down to defend himself. “Sergeant Pierce’s logic was sound, and it turned out to be right. When I considered the evidence, I realized it could not go ignored.”

  “What evidence? That video of Nezaket, a suspected terrorist, mentioning the bank?” Winford asked.

  Edge replied, “The video implies that some group, referred to as the ‘Order,' was the actual leadership of the plan, not Nezaket. That changed everything because now we’re dealing with an organization powerful enough to wipe out an entire city and then obtained enough money to do it again. The scary thing is that we don’t know anything about them.”

  “Where is the video, anyway?” Winford asked.

  “I’ve got a copy of it here, the original in evidence, and another copy in a safe location,” Tucker answered, as he reached into his pocket to pull out a small plastic case.

  Winford looked puzzled. “Why so many copies?”

  Tucker looked to Edge, who nodded. “Sergeant Pierce is of the opinion that the Order has placed or recruited agents within the government that is giving them access to our communications and planning. So we made copies in case the originals came up missing.”

  “Moles? Rogue agents? That’s absurd,” Winford scoffed. “And you’re buying into that Tucker?” The director chuckled, turning towards his liquor cabinet.

  “Not entirely, sir, but there have been some disturbing coincidences recently,” Tucker admitted.

 
Edge explained, “The Order came for us at the cabin and demanded the video. The fact that we were even there and that the video even existed were both closely held information. They didn’t think twice about engaging us so they must have known that we had no backup, which was information that was also closely held.” Edge watched Winford as he spoke.

  Winford poured himself a double shot, which was more than Tucker had seen him pour before. “When you were breaking into the bank, did you ignore the level of devastation around you? I’d think tracking your location would be easy for people that can bring that much chaos.”

  “Doesn’t mean I’m wrong either,” Edge replied, his confidence unshaken by the director’s tone.

  “We intend to bring this copy to the lab to do a voice analysis of the people in the video,” Tucker informed the director. “Our lab has a much larger database of samples to search than the DHS in Florida. If it’s someone from one of the agencies, they’ll find them,” Tucker said as he tapped the box in his hand.

  Winford took a swig of his drink and walked back to his desk. He stood, staring down at a large folder, shaking his head. “I must be out of my mind, but it looks like you two are determined to see this through.”

  He grabbed the folder off his desk and walked it over to Tucker. “Here’s the analysis of the missiles. Well, what they’ve pulled together so far.”

  Tucker took the folder which could have doubled as a boat anchor. So far? He wondered incredulously.

  “Uh sir,” Tucker began, “I spoke to Agent Xuxa this morning, and she told me it would not be ready until tonight. How did you get this?”

  “I’m the Director of Central Intelligence; I have the ability to get some things done,” Winford said sarcastically as he looked sideways at Tucker and Edge. “Besides breaking Cowboys out of the pokey, that is. Plus, after last night, I had decided to pull you two from the investigation and told everyone to stall on giving you any info until I had spoken to you. But after talking to you two, it appears that handing this over to someone else would be marginally more stupid than letting you keep it,” Winford continued before he started to cough.