by J. M. LeDuc
“When you hold your breath on impact, your diaphragm goes into spasm, not allowing you to take a deep breath. I just released the spasm.”
By this time Brent and Seven as well as the rest of the Phantom Squad were standing next to the pair.
“You just took the all of the fun out of watching him try to catch his breath,” Seven said. “You should see the faces he makes when he is trying to recover.”
“I can’t believe you didn’t tell me about the breathing,” the Bishop said as his eyes darted back and forth from Brent to Seven and back again.
“There is so little fun to be had during a mission,” Seven said. “We need something to laugh about later.”
Bishop Jessup just dropped his head and shook it from side to side. “I’ll get back at both you; if it’s the last thing I do, I swear. . . ”
“If you were worried about how to breathe, you would have tightened up the rest of your muscles and either broke something or sprained the heck out of your spinal ligaments,” Brent interjected. “I couldn’t take that chance.”
The Bishop looked into Brent’s eyes, but he couldn’t tell if he was telling the truth or just making it up, so he just dropped his head and continued to shake it back and forth.
While his head was still down, Brent looked over at a bewildered Scarlet and winked causing a wide smile to encompass her face. Before the Bishop could look up she wiped the grin off her face, so not to give away what just happened.
“Now that everyone is breathing like a human, we need to carry these seats inside the tunnel, and then I’ll brief you on our next move,” the Colonel said. “Let’s move.” As they were gathering the chutes, Brent noticed a slight movement out of the corner of his eye. Drawing his sidearm, he yelled, “Even the slightest movement in any direction ends up with a bullet in your brain.” To emphasize his point he pulled the trigger, spraying the ground just inches from the stranger. “Now, lock your hands behind your head. The next time I won’t be so kind. I suggest that you don’t even take a deep breath.”
“Easy son, it’s me, Joseph.”
“I’ll go make sure. Seven stay here and keep you weapon pointed at him.”
Brent stayed in the shadows as he made his way across the airfield.
As soon as he could make out the figure in the dark, Brent signaled for Seven to put his weapon down.
When they got close enough that Brent didn’t have to raise his voice, he said, “What the hell are you doing here?”
Standing next to him, Joseph could see the anger in Brent’s eyes. “I not going to pretend to know what you three have been through the past few days, but you need to decompress, Colonel. After you called me off a bit ago, I decided to do a little perimeter recognizance. I’m here to report to you what you don’t know.”
The squad witnessed the wincing expression on Brent’s face as he reached behind his back to place his gun in his waistband. Malcolm and Fitz immediately knew he had blown his shoulder out again.
“How bad is it, Colonel?” Jefferson asked.
“Not so bad, I’ll have you tape me up after we get everything into the tunnel. Get moving. I need to talk to Joseph.” Reaching with his good arm, Brent placed his hand on Joe’s shoulder. “Sorry.”
“Nothing to be sorry for, son, but now that I know about your shoulder, I am pretty amazed that you made that shot a moment ago.”
Brent smiled, “Me too.”
The squad shared a quick laugh that could only be appreciated by them alone. Brent let them share the brief reprieve before he again brought order to the ranks. “Time’s wasting, and the one thing we don’t have enough of is time, so grab this stuff and move out.”
“I really hate when you say that,” Bishop Jessup said. “No good ever comes after those two little words.”
Everyone again chuckled as they carried the seats and parachutes to the tunnel entrance.
CHAPTER 53
Brent spent the next ten minutes talking strategy with his mentor and telling him of his suspicions.
With everyone inside the tunnel, Colonel Venturi removed his shirt so Jefferson could tape up his shoulder.
“Not too tight, Sergeant, I need to be able to use it.”
“Yes, sir.” Examining his shoulder, Malcolm palpated the gleno-humeral joint. As soon as he touched it, Brent pulled away. “You did a nice job on it this time, Colonel. Do you have feeling in your fingers?”
“Some.”
“Some feeling?” Jefferson said as he began to tape it up.
“Some feeling. . . in some fingers,” Brent said.
Shaking his head, Malcolm kept his attention on his task. “I can’t wait to hear how this happened,” he mumbled under his breath.
“That’s exactly what you’re gonna have to do, Sergeant. We have more pressing matters to discuss. Have any of you had any contact from Joan or anyone else trapped inside headquarters in the past twenty minutes or so?”
“No, sir,” Jefferson answered. “Our last correspondence from the inside was the order given to surround the periphery of Headquarters and take out any undesirables. That directive came before you ordered us here.”
“I was pulling my vehicle into the front entrance of SIA when I received your text to abort,” Joseph said. “Just before I pulled into the drive, I did a little looking around. I wanted to know if I was going to have a welcoming party or not.” He stopped long enough to take a sip of water from a supply that had been left near the entrance of the tunnel. Putting the bottle down, he pulled a drawing out of his back pocket.
He spread out the paper, “This is what I saw in the front of the complex. There are two heavily armed goons guarding the front, one on either side of the building. They look like amateurs. Stuck out like a sore thumb. Inside the lobby there was another one, this one I suspect is well trained, he’s wearing an SIA uniform.”
Flipping the paper over, Joseph continued, “After I pulled out of the complex, I parked two streets over and made my way to the back of the building. There are two more stationed there. Pretty much like the two in front. They walk a formation which is not very organized. They meet in the middle, shoot the breeze and then walk back to their posts. There is one on the roof with a sub-machine gun. The one on the roof is also SIA.”
Brent listened as he put his shirt back on. As he did, he was thinking, sometimes I forget that Joseph was the past director of SIA and a great operative. Moving his arm in small circles, he checked his shoulder for pain and range of motion.
“Good work, Sergeant, it feels almost as good as new.”
Malcolm nodded his thanks, but knew better than to speak when the Colonel had that look in his eyes.
Turning his attention towards Joseph, Brent continued. “That was great work, Joe. Your intel is going to make our mission a lot smoother.”
“How do you want to handle this, Colonel?” Seven asked.
“I need to think about it. This organization we’re up against is vast and powerful. No matter how amateurish they appear, we need to go on the assumption that they know exactly what they’re doing and that they have no problem killing their hostages. We’re going to have to strike fast and from all angles at the same time. Even the slightest mistake and we lose.”
Brent’s voice trailed off as his attention shifted to something on the tunnel wall.
Scarlet noticed the Colonel staring at the wall with intensity. Standing next to him, she said, “If I’m not overstepping my position, do you mind if I ask what has your attention?”
Without taking his eyes off the wall, Brent answered, “You’re not and you may. I was just reading these words left to us by a past Ambassador.” Pointing to the inscription, he read,
“There will be times in battle when a straight forward attack seems best. Step back and rethink your position; God may have another plan.”
Moving his f
inger to the right he began to read again,
“The choices you make not only affect you and yours, but like a small stone thrown into a vast ocean, the ripples of consequence may be far-reaching.”
“What is that telling you?” Scarlet asked.
“I don’t quite know, but before we act, I need to figure it out.” Looking back at the squad, he said, “Seven will bring the rest of you up to date on Joan’s newest message and then I want you to get some shut-eye.” With those words spoken Brent broke into a run. As his figure faded into the shadows of the tunnel the squad heard him yell, “No one moves until I return. That’s an order.” The word ‘order’ faded as he turned the corner and headed towards God knows where.
CHAPTER 54
His destination in close proximity, Brent slowed his pace and brought his heart rate back down to a normal fifty two beats per minute. He had entered a new finger of the Endowment Tunnel system. In the past year or so, Chloe had found more veins of the existing system. Behind false walls were more tunnels. These branches lead to the old stone church, the beach and other destinations. The branch he was now in led to the stone church where the Butcher had been killed by Scarlet’s arrow and where the Dark One had been sent back to hell.
Exiting the tunnel, Brent found himself standing in the vestibule of the church. Walking into the main body of the chapel, Brent felt a profound sadness. He was unable to convince Jonas McFarland a.k.a. The Omega Butcher to give his life to Christ in the last moments of his life, thereby sentencing him to eternity in the burning pit of Hell.
It was in this house of God that Brent felt the closest to the Lord. It was here that his faith was renewed when he had returned home, after his first altercation with the Butcher.
His only plan was to kneel and pray. As he knelt on the top step of the altar, the words he had read moments ago reverberated in his mind.
“There will be times in battle when a straight forward attack seems best. Step back and rethink your position; God may have another plan.”
Minutes began to mount and before he knew it, twenty had passed. Keeping his eyes on the cross behind the altar, soon his vision turned inward. All before him blurred and faded until he saw nothing. The coming battle took shape in his subconscious. Each scenario presented different consequences and those consequences presented different degrees of pain.
Not liking any of what he saw, Brent continued to kneel and ask God for guidance. Forty minutes into his gestation, his eyes closed and his head dropped forward. Images and words began filtering their way into the deep recesses of his mind. Images of over a year ago when he and the squad carried out the rescue of Chloe and Maddie from Donavan Ferric at his compound. Images of his argument with Chloe as to why he had to go on this quest to find the Ark of the Covenant. As his visions became clearer, he saw himself in the underwater crevasse and felt the burning in his chest as he ran out of air.
Kneeling at the altar of God, Brent began to choke and gasp for air. He, like the vision that was now before him, ran out of air and couldn’t breathe. It was then the Lord spoke to him. It was then he knew what he had to do. It was then the clues written on the walls of the Holy of Holies started to make sense. Just as he was about to pass out, his eyes and airways opened and he sucked in the musky air of the old stone church. Dusty and mildewed, it felt like the cleanest air he had ever breathed.
Checking his watch, Brent realized that he had left the squad over an hour ago. Looking up at the crucifix, he blessed himself with the sign of the cross and re-entered the Endowment tunnel system.
Brent radioed Seven and told him of his plan and of his further suspicions. Seven in return, gave the orders to the squad and dismissed them so that they would be ready when the Colonel gave the word. With the orders given, Seven went to gather supplies from the Squad Command Center and then to meet Brent.
Brent knew that there wasn’t much time to do what was needed before the girls led Red to the vault. Arriving, he squatted next to the door that led to the false wall of the vault and mentally went over every detail of the mission. Hearing footsteps, he opened his eyes and saw Seven trotting toward him, loaded down with supplies. Brent quickly helped Seven offload the supplies and get everything organized.
“How’s the leg?”
“Better,” Seven said. “Malcolm triaged the wound and stitched me up good as new.”
Brent nodded an affirmative while going through the supplies.
One of the greatest traits Brent had learned from Seven during Delta Training was to never put into action a plan that wasn’t first completely laid out before him and to never let anything distract from the plan. Because of this last point, Seven never mentioned anything about Brent’s suspicions. He knew the way Brent’s mind worked and he knew that the subject would be brought up when the time was right.
Now, there were more important things to worry about. The time it took to get all the equipment organized would shave off valuable time at the end of the mission. Two hours later, they had completed what they had to do and carefully retraced their steps, leaving no trace that they had ever been there.
CHAPTER 55
They stopped at the fork of the tunnel which led back toward headquarters so Brent could make contact with his squad.
“Is everyone in position?” Brent radioed.
“That’s an affirmative,” Jefferson radioed back.
“Everyone, hold your position and stay black until Scarlet gives the word that Red and the girls are safely away from headquarters. Once she gives the word, we have a five minute count before we strike. It is imperative that we strike as one. If anybody is even seconds late we could cause irreparable harm to those we love. Is that understood?” It was a rhetorical question and Brent didn’t wait for an answer before continuing. “I want an update on where each of you are and exactly what you can see from your vantage point.”
Each member of the squad was assigned a number as an I.D. and one by one, they began to update the Colonel.
“This is three checking in,” Jefferson said, “I’m at the right rear corner of headquarters, looking down onto the compound. I have two grunts walking the right perimeter armed with AK 47s. Neither is wearing a flak jacket or head protection. On the roof is a heavily armed target. He’s lying flush to the roof with a tripod held sub-machine gun. He’s wearing eyes, ears and a cordless head set. I keep seeing his mouth move, so I assume he is in constant contact with the grunts as well as the leader. Over.”
“Four checking in,” Fitz radioed. “I’ve got the left rear covered; same vantage point as three. There are two grunts walking this perimeter also, but they seem to be spending more time talking and smoking than they do walking their post. Agreement on the boss-man on the roof. From my sight, I can see his hand on the trigger of his gun. It’s been taped and rigged to the mechanism. If we take him out, his muscles will contract and he will fire a loud round of fire alerting everyone on the ground and on the inside. Over.”
“Five checking in,” Scarlet said. “I’m high in the fichus tree in front of headquarters. I have two pigeons, stationary on the outside of the front doors and one on the inside. All armed with semi-automatic handguns. Over.”
“This is six,” Joseph radioed. “I’m parked just out of sight of headquarters behind the Old Towne Drycleaner. I’m ready to roll when you give the order.”
There was a moment of silence on the radios as Brent and Seven spoke privately about the recognizance.
In agreement with what to do, Brent radioed the squad. “Five, how safely can you drop out of the tree and switch positions with four?”
“I’m under heavy cover, it can be done,” Scarlet answered.
“Four, can you make a transfer of position?”
“It’s a go,” Fitzpatrick said.
“On my count, make the switch,” Brent ordered, “and then I want a reconfirmation from both when you’re in p
osition. Three, do you copy?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Their movement will commence in two minutes. I need you to draw the attention of the leader on the roof without giving yourself away and without firing any weapons. What can you do for me?”
Jefferson smiled a broad smile as he looked down at the ground below him. “I took the initiative to bring Brutus along with me, just in case. He’s ichin’ to take a stroll. Over.”
A smile even broader than Jefferson’s was painted on faces of Brent and Seven.
“Smart thinking, sergeant,” Brent radioed. “I’ll countdown from ten and then you’ll signal man’s best friend. Four and five, as soon as you hear the barking, it’s a go. Confirm.”
“Confirm,” Scarlet said.
“Ready,” Fitz radioed.
Brent looked at Seven for confirmation, who nodded his response. Nodding back, Brent began the count. “Ten . . . three, two, one.”
Through their ear pieces they could hear the loud barking and growl from Brutus, Jefferson’s pit bull, come over the radio. In a more distant voice they could hear the roof command yelling at his men to stand down and not to shoot. He didn’t want any gun fire to draw the attention of local authorities.
“Now all we can do is wait for the squad to check in,” Brent said.
“What do plan to do about the snake, Colonel?”
Brent bowed his head. “I never would have thought it possible, but the evidence is overwhelming.” His eyes locked on to Seven’s. Seven saw a depth of intensity that even he had never witnessed. “We go as planned and wait for him to show his hand.”
“And then?”
“And then, God have mercy on his soul,” Brent seethed.
Five minutes later, both Scarlet and Fitz radioed that they were in their new positions. Hearing the news, Brent could hear what sounded like a bird cooing. Seconds later, he no longer heard the threatening sounds of the pit. Jefferson had trained Brutus to respond to a variety of bird calls, the cooing was the signal to call him off.
