by Margaret Kay
“I can carry grandma on my back,” Lambchop volunteered. “I say we get out who we can now and get back in touch with the target after.”
“He can self-evacuate without having to worry about the others,” Cooper added.
“Negative,” a male voice that Shepherd did not recognize declared.
“Identify yourself,” Shepherd demanded.
“Sorry, Big Bear,” Madison said. “That was the handler. He is here with me and I was relaying the sitrep. He grabbed my headset.”
In the background, that same man’s voice came through the speakers. “I’m telling you. You cannot take his family. When he returns to the house, Anan’s men will be with him. They will check the family to be sure they are there. If they are not, they will know something is wrong and they may very well kill him on the spot.”
“Cooper, confirm that with his wife,” Shepherd said. Shepherd listened to the conversation between Cooper, Lambchop, and a high-pitched female voice with a heavy Somali accent.
“Negative, Big Bear. She does not confirm,” Cooper replied.
“Xena, have that handler placed under arrest,” Shepherd ordered. He listened intently at the commotion coming through the speaker from the Ops Center at Camp Lemonnier. He removed his phone from his pocket and dialed CIA Deputy Director Beauregard Mason. “Coop, stand by.”
The phone rang twice before his voice came over the line. “Mason,” he answered.
“What the fuck is up in Somalia? Your handler just gave incorrect information. My team is on the ground and the hairs on the back of my neck are standing at attention.”
“Let me contact him,” Mason said.
“That won’t be possible. I had him taken into custody.”
“You did what? Goddamn it, Shepherd! On whose authority?”
“It’s my team about to get goat-fucked on the ground. You want to run this up the chain after the asset and my team are extracted, you go for it. But until then, stand down and tell me why the hell your man is giving my people false information.”
“I don’t know why he would,” Mason said. “I gave you what intel I had when I contacted you for this job. Our asset, Bashiir Dahir, has requested extraction for himself and his family.”
“His wife is nine months pregnant and his very elderly, non-mobile parents are there for evac as well.”
“Damn, I didn’t have that intel,” Mason said.
Shepherd didn’t believe him. This kind of shit always happened when dealing with the CIA. “We can get them out. But Dahir is not home. The wife says he got called to Anan’s compound. I need to know if he’s burned. Do you have any other assets in the area or in Anan’s compound?”
“Come on, Shepherd, you know I can’t divulge that,” Mason said.
“So that means yes,” Shepherd charged. “I’m going to assume the same handler can contact other assets. I’m going to have his phone brought to him. I’ll stay on this line with you and listen in. Give the order, Mason.”
“Sonofabitch, Shepherd.”
“Xena, did you get all that?”
“Roger, Big Bear. I’ll stand by while the handler has his phone.” Five minutes passed while Madison made her way to the brig where Nieves, the CIA handler, was brought. “I have his phone, Big Bear.”
“Mason, call your man.”
Shepherd listened to the conversation. His eyes watched the countdown clock. Precious time was passing.
“Fuck man, I swear, Dahir said they check his house when they come to get him and when he goes home. They travel in groups, always,” Nieves said.
“His wife says no,” Shepherd insisted.
“Well, obviously he lied about his family members, so I’m not surprised he lied about that too, fucking desert rat,” Nieves said.
“Get a report from the other assets you have in the area. Is Dahir burned? That’s all we need to know,” Shepherd said.
“I don’t know,” Nieves insisted.
“Xena, watch what he does, make sure he reaches out with the right questions.”
“Roger, Big Bear,” she replied. She sat beside Nieves on the cot in the cell. She held his phone and read the message he typed out on it.
“Are you satisfied, Shepherd?” Mason demanded. “Have my man released.”
“Not till my team is back at base,” Shepherd said.
Mason protested, but Shepherd ignored him. After Mason concluded a long tirade, Shepherd spoke in a low, menacing tone that he knew was effective with the deputy director. “File a formal complaint and go fuck yourself, Mason.” He disconnected the call. “He stays in that cell, no matter what, Xena.”
“The order has been given,” she replied. “I’m heading back to Ops with his phone. I’ll monitor it for the reply from the asset he reached out to.”
“Let’s hope that message he sent was legit,” Yvette remarked, cynically.
“The clock is ticking, Shep,” Smith reminded him. “What about the ground team?”
Shepherd’s eyes shifted to the mission timer. “Coop, evac the family. Have the wife leave the target a message. I’m sure they have a predesignated code for something like this.”
“Affirmative,” Cooper said.
“We’ll keep watch over the area from where you are to the LZ,” Shepherd said.
“I’ll let you know when we are ready to head out,” Cooper reported.
“Make it within the next fifteen minutes,” Shepherd ordered.
Five minutes later, the rest of the men, minus Garcia, were called into the house. “We’re going to move out in teams, evenly spaced out,” Cooper reported.
“Roger that,” Shepherd replied.
“I’m taking point with Lambchop carrying grandma. The oldest son will be with us. Doc will evac mom after we have cleared the village. Grandpa is next with Jax and Mother. When he’s out, then the Birdman and the Undertaker will get the two other kids out with Razor covering our six. I need you to keep watch from our twenty to the extraction point.”
“You got it, Coop,” Yvette replied, her eyes on the mission timer. Her gaze shifted to Shepherd, and she muted her comms. “This is going to be tight.”
“Yeah,” Shepherd agreed. “I want them in the air before the first rays of the sun hit the sky.”
Just as Cooper and Lambchop were getting ready to move, there was activity in the village. Five adult-sized figures spilled out of the house the four-man patrol had originated from and returned to as the team had entered the village. A truck with ten heat signatures in the back approached fast from the west.
“Hold position. Repeat hold position. We’ve got activity,” Shepherd broadcast the sitrep. “Smith, zoom in on that truck.” He scrutinized the feed. “There are no markings on the truck.” They watched the truck pull through town, making repeated stops, dropping multiple people off at each stop. One of the men dropped off near the target house approached the front door. “Coop, be advised a subject is approaching your twenty. I’m hoping it’s the target.”
“I hope so, too. This is a one room dwelling with a toilet closet that we cannot all fit in. There is no place for us to hide.”
Within the house, Lambchop and Cooper took up positions on either side of the door. They had the wife stand a few feet back from it.
Shepherd watched the lone male approach the house that his men were in. “Razor, the remainder of the vicinity is clear. Wait for my mark. If that isn’t our target, be prepared to take him out if they can’t from inside,” Shepherd said to Garcia, who was in position outside of the house, concealed behind a car.
“Roger,” Garcia whispered.
Shepherd watched the Somali man mill around outside of his house, finishing a cigarette. His eyes remained on the man. Shepherd’s heart beat hard in his chest as he waited to see what he’d do. Finally, he crushed the cigarette beneath his shoe and then he approached the door to the house. “He’s at the door.” Over the feed, Shepherd watched the man enter.
“It’s the target,” Cooper confirm
ed two seconds later.
“Get them all the hell out of there,” Shepherd commanded.
“Heading out now,” Cooper advised.
“Your immediate area is clear. Proceed as planned,” Shepherd advised. “We’re keeping our eyes on your route to the evac point.”
“Thank you, Big Bear,” Cooper said.
“There goes Coop, the eldest son, Lambchop and Grandma,” Yvette said as Shepherd watched the figures slip from the target house, Lambchop carrying Grandma on his back as planned.
“Team one clear,” Cooper broadcast after his group ducked around a small outcropping of foothills just outside of the village. “Proceeding to extraction point.”
“Team two heading out now,” Doc said.
On the monitor, Shepherd watched two figures leave the house. That would be Doc and Mom. He watched them move at a slower pace than he would expect. “Doc, your twenty is clear. I advise that you hurry it up while it is.”
“I have a situation,” Doc broadcast in a whispered hush. “Her water just broke, and she’s having a contraction. I’ll make up time when it’s over, before the next.”
“Xena, did you catch that?” Yvette transmitted.
“Roger, Control. Advising their ride now. The chopper will be on station the second after Razor makes it to the extraction point.”
“Roger, Doc,” Shepherd advised. “We’re watching your twenty. Jax, proceed with Grandpa. We’re going to step up the evac while the area is clear.” Just after Shepherd’s transmission, a pickup truck pulled into town from the road that led south out of the village. “Fuck, hold, there is an approaching truck.” His eyes scanned Doc and Mom’s location near the edge of the village. They should make it out with no issues. “Doc, you are still clear. Move it! Smith, you watch Cooper’s trek to the LZ and the immediate area. Yvette, your eyes stay on Doc and I’ll watch the village and be primary on Jax and the others.”
“Coop, you’re clear. Move it faster,” Smith said.
“Doc is picking up speed,” Yvette advised.
“Jax, the threat is parked on the other side of the village. Move out and don’t waste any time,” Shepherd ordered. His eyes flickered to the mission clock. “Undertaker, be ready to move on my mark.”
“Be advised, we’ll have Dad with us as well,” the Birdman’s accented voice replied.
“Roger that,” Shepherd replied.
Shepherd watched the local feed. The four men who came into town in the pickup truck still milled around near it smoking cigarettes. The three adult forms that he knew were Jax, Mother, and Grandpa slipped from the house. They paused at the back of the dwelling. Then he watched the old man get hoisted onto Jackson’s back. He watched them hover close to the remaining buildings that stretched from their location to the edge of town.
When they reached the last dwelling, the outcropping of rocks just fifteen feet away, the door swung open and a single figure emerged. Through comms, Shepherd heard a female voice speak in broken English louder than he would have liked. “I go. I keep quiet. Take me.”
“Shut her the hell up,” Shepherd barked into his mic.
“Easy,” Mother whispered to the woman. “Shh.”
“Al'atfal, we go,” she whispered.
“Ask her kam aleadad,” Madison broke in.
Shepherd knew the translation was how many. “Are there kids there, Mother?”
“Yeah, four in the doorway from infant up to preteen, I’d guess,” Mother replied. Then he asked her how many in Arabic as Madison had prompted.
“We go,” the woman insisted.
“Shit,” Shepherd cursed. His eyes went back to the target house. Then his gaze swept the vicinity.
“Shut her the hell up,” Garcia broadcast. “I can hear her at my twenty.”
“Fuck! Hush her and tell her yes. Move out now, with or without her,” Shepherd ordered.
“Shh,” Mother repeated. “Yes. Come now. All of you.”
On the monitor, Shepherd watched his men and Grandpa cross the open space between the house and the rock outcropping. “Undertaker and Birdman, move out,” His eyes flickered back to the pickup truck. As soon as the three adult sized figures, two carrying small children, left the target house and ducked around to the back, two of the men got into the pickup truck. It headed towards the target house. “Incoming, the pickup truck with two men.”
“I’ve got them,” Garcia replied. “Undertaker, move it.”
On the monitor, Shepherd watched Garcia come out from his hiding place across from the target house and run flat out behind the house. He caught up to the Undertaker, the Birdman who carried a sleeping toddler, and Dahir, who carried another small child. Just then, the pickup truck turned the corner and pulled between the houses, heading towards where the woman had come from her house.
“The pickup truck is converging on the woman’s house. She and her children are in the open between it and the rocks. Protect them,” Shepherd ordered.
He heard a chorus of curses both over comms and coming from Yvette and Smith. On the monitor, he saw Razor and the Undertaker slink around the final house between themselves and the woman’s house and take up sniper positions. The Birdman and Dahir froze where they were.
“Birdman, circle to the west and get the hell out of there,” Shepherd ordered. “You can proceed north and circle to the LZ. It’s clear.”
“Roger that, Big Bear,” the Birdman replied.
“Coop, you got traffic to your north, two klicks out, three small vehicles. I’m watching them,” Smith advised. “There is a ravine near the LZ you can duck into if need be. The road curves east, which I’ll bet you anything, they take. I’ll keep you advised, but you may want to pick up your pace to avoid them.”
“Doc has stopped moving again,” Yvette advised.
Shepherd heard her and grunted an acknowledgement. He assumed the woman was having another contraction. His attention remained laser focused on the team still in the village. The truck pulled up behind the woman and her children, who were still out in the open. Both men got out of the truck and ran up to the woman. Two silenced shots took them down where they stood. Garcia and the Undertaker ran up and grabbed the woman and the children and rushed them behind the rocks. They quickly caught up with Jax and Mother.
“Fuck me,” Jackson cursed. “This woman is the target’s sister. He told her about the evac, invited them to come.”
Shepherd ran his hand through his hair, wanting to pull it out. He did a quick count of people. It would be tight in the chopper. The kids would have to sit on laps, but they’d make it work. “Roger that,” he acknowledged. “Not our monkey, not our circus. We’ll evac them and let the ringmaster figure it out.” Beauregard Mason was, of course, the ringmaster. And this was his clusterfuck to figure out, not Shepherd’s.
He remained in Ops until after the chopper picked the team up and cleared Somali airspace as the sun rose. Madison had the medical unit standing by on the tarmac. The mother was in active labor and damned well may deliver en route. It was her fourth child and Doc advised things tended to progress fast the more children a woman had.
Then he met Vic in his apartment for a later than normal therapy session. He was sore. And he was keenly aware that it would be the last time that Vic would be there working with him. Vic would meet him at Dr. Diana’s practice the next morning, but it would be the last time that Vic would be at his residence. He would miss the kid, he admitted that to himself.
Echo
Shepherd changed into his workout shorts and slid his favorite black sweatpants atop them. Then he pulled on an Army t-shirt and sweatshirt. He was cognizant that changing his clothes again was more time added to this appointment out of his office, which was costing him too much time to begin with. He’d met with a client at zero eight hundred in his office, otherwise he would have dressed appropriately for this appointment that morning.
During the time Vic worked with him the previous day, Vic reiterated his conviction that Dr. Diana Palm
er was the right person to treat him. Vic also reminded him he had to be flexible and open-minded regarding the scheduling of sessions. He had to admit that as the elevator descended to subbasement level two, where the private Shepherd Security parking garage was located, his mood lifted.
He rolled to his specially outfitted black Lincoln Navigator. The driver’s seat had been removed, and a special handicapped lift allowed him to lock the wheels of his wheelchair into it. It transported him to the driver’s area so he could remain in his wheelchair and drive with the use of the hand controls for acceleration and braking. It provided him an independence he rarely took advantage of.
Fifteen minutes later, he arrived outside of the building that housed Dr. Diana Palmer’s Holistic Physical Medical Center. It was in a professional office complex of a dozen multi-unit one-story buildings consisting of four separate offices in each building with large parking lots set up to resemble a townhouse community. A deli was beside her practice. As he approached the door, it swung open. An older blond woman with a bright smile held the door open for him. “Good morning, Colonel Shepherd.”
