by S L Shelton
“Come on back!” Seifert yelled. A coil of thick chain hung loosely from one arm.
After a moment of jockeying the tractor into place, the truck driver shifted a few levers on the bed, rolling it backward, then tipping it up. Nick pulled forward slowly, towing the forty-foot cargo container from the trailer with a horrific, scraping noise. No one seemed to notice but Jo who pressed her hands tightly over her ears.
The driver deftly slid the wheels of the trailer forward and let the container reach the ground with just a slight thud.
Seifert shook the man’s hand and chatted with him briefly before handing him the signed bill of lading.
The three stood around and watched as the truck drove away, leaving a new dust cloud floating over the field. Once out of sight, the other SEALs and Wolf left the house to inspect their delivered equipment.
“Wait until we get it in the barn,” Nick said as the men started to congregate around the container. “We might not have to worry about satellites, but we can still be spotted by air.”
SEALs looked up before moving into the barn, taking up positions along the sides as they waited for Nick to drag the container inside with the tractor.
The large box lock rattled against the container door when Nick stopped. Wolf unlocked it before Nick had even shut off the tractor’s engine.
“Grab a ramp,” Wolf said to Mac, the biggest SEAL in the small troupe.
He picked it up and dragged it into place at the opening, dropping it with a ringing clang.
Storc arrived in the doorway of the barn. “Did my satellite dishes make it okay?”
“We have to unload them first,” Nick said with an edge that warned Storc to be patient.
Storc cringed as Petty Officer Morgan shoved the pallet jack into the first crate. “Careful! That might have the computer equipment in it.”
Morgan looked back and rolled his eyes before hauling the crate backward onto the barn floor. Seifert and Nick pried the top off the wooden crate with crowbars and pulled the shredded packing material off the top.
“Food,” Nick said.
Storc stepped aside, letting Mason park the crate in an empty horse stall.
“It’ll take a little while to unload,” Wolf said to Storc with a wink, trying to salve some of the sting. “I’ll make sure everything gets handled gently.”
Storc nodded and left the barn. Wolf watched as Jo joined him, crossing the circular driveway back to the house, taking his hand to soothe his bruised ego. As much as he hated to admit it, the two of them being together had slowed their progress in cracking the encryption on the Intelligence Infrastructure.
When they had disappeared inside the house, Wolf turned to Nick. “We need to split everyone up.”
“Now? Before we unload the container?”
Wolf laughed at Nick’s sarcasm.
Nick scowled. “Do you really want to thin our security?”
“Everyone who knows everything about Combine is under one roof. If they find us before we can act it’s game over.”
Nick nodded. “We should talk to John. He may have some ideas on where we can go.”
Wolf shook his head. “I don’t mind talking to John, but no one should know where the rest of the team is.”
Nick stared at Wolf for a moment, squinting as the implications sank in, then nodded. “You’re right.”
“We have enough equipment for three separate operations, and enough flush bank accounts to supply more if we have to.”
Lieutenant Marsh stopped inventorying and looked up from the crate. “How are we going to coordinate operations if we split up?”
Wolf turned to Marsh and smiled. “We won’t. Each unit will be an independent splinter cell.”
Marsh shook his head. “We’re military. We might work well independently short-term, but we need a command structure when you’re talking long-term operations.”
Wolf nodded to the side indicating he wanted Marsh and Nick to follow him. He stepped outside of the barn and stopped far enough away that they couldn’t be heard by the other SEALs.
“We have three CIA officers, three techs, and three senior Navy personnel,” Wolf said to Marsh, voice lowered. “You, Ensign Thompson, and Seifert.”
Marsh nodded.
“That’s four SEALs, one CIA officer, and one hacker per team…give or take,” Wolf said, squatting down. “On my team, I’ll be pulling double duty as both Agency rep and TechOps.”
“John’s not in any shape to be running a team,” Nick said.
“I wasn’t talking about John for the third team. I was talking about Mark Gaines.”
Nick lifted an eyebrow and glanced at Marsh.
“Gaines is in the wind,” Marsh said.
Wolf shook his head. “He’s set up and ready for operations. He just had to get his asset from the Cayman’s locked down in a secure place. He felt he owed it to her.”
Nick stared at Wolf for a beat, his eyes squinted. “Okay. Let’s say for a second that’s the best way to go. How would you split up the teams?”
“You, Marsh, and Jo run one team. Mark Gaines, Ensign Thompson, and Storc run team two,” Wolf said, his voice growing quieter.
“Who’s John going with?” Nick asked.
Wolf looked across the yard to the farmhouse. “John will come with me and Seifert.”
Marsh nodded. “How do you want to split up my guys?”
“I’ll leave that to you, Thompson, and Seifert to decide.”
Nick rubbed his face, visibly agitated. “What happens if one or more of the splinter cells get picked off?”
Wolf took a deep breath and looked at the SEALs who were unloading the shipping container. “We’ll set up a deadman post on Craigslist, then renew it every twenty-four hours as long as we’re all intact.”
“So each team can pick up the slack?” Nick asked. “That’s sketchy with only three teams. What are our Op parameters?”
“Three teams are better than one. Besides, there is no Op outside of the hacks. CIA and Navy personnel will be providing nothing more than security.”
“Security?!” Nick asked, his sharp tone loud enough to garner a glance from a couple of the other SEALs as they continued to unload the container.
“Storc and Jo know what they need to do. All we have to do is keep the heat off of them long enough to get it done. The systems need to be cracked before we can do anything worthwhile.”
Nick stood, clearly unhappy about the roles. “And what about you?”
“I’ll be creating the openings they need and providing the distraction.”
Nick jabbed his finger into Wolf’s chest. “So, it’s not that there isn’t any Op. It’s just that you get to run it alone.”
Wolf looked down at Nick’s finger then at his pointed Greek nose. “No one is looking for you because they think you’re dead. Same with John. And no one wants Mark because he’s done his damage. They think his threat has been rendered moot with the theft of Combine’s operational funds.”
Nick tipped his head back and forth, weighing the logic. “How does that make you the obvious choice?”
“I’m already the high-profile target. I’m the one they’ll send their resources after if my face shows up on public surveillance. If you’re leading the others, you won’t be on anyone’s radar…you’re dead.”
Marsh breathed out slowly and shook his head. “We’re low on manpower. I don’t know if I like the idea of my guys being part of your bait squad.”
Wolf motioned Nick and Marsh to lower their voices and calm down. “They’ll be my support, not bait. I promise.” He drew a line in the dirt with his finger. “Your teams will be doing all the heavy lifting on INTEL gathering. You’re going to stay tight, slow, careful, and invisible. Your only responsibility is making sure Jo and Storc have the time they need to hack into the secure backup archives.” He looked up at Nick. “And I’m going to kick in the front door on every weak point they have.”
“So, in other words, the one person who knows every
thing about the operation is going to be doing the high-profile drive-bys,” Nick said, sarcasm and revolt in his voice.
Wolf shook his head. “No. I’ll be thinning their resources, drawing attention away from our operation, and scaring the living shit out of the remaining Combine membership. There’s one thing you can count on when it comes to rich assholes; they act in their own self-interest first.”
“But if you’re captured—”
“If I’m captured, then it’ll be the top news of the day. Storc and Jo will have plenty of time to lock out my access. But more than that, I wouldn’t have any knowledge of their operation…because they’ll be independent.”
“I don’t like it,” Nick muttered.
Wolf smiled. “Have you ever liked any of my plans?”
Nick shrugged and his lip curled ever so slightly. “No.”
“And yet here we are, alive, equipped, and on the cusp of uncovering the largest conspiracy in modern history, despite our own government being used against us.”
“Alive for the moment, and ‘on the cusp’ doesn’t mean shit until we’ve actually done it.”
“Exactly.”
Nick shook his head again and ran his fingers through his hair. “You’re such a prick…but you’re right. When would you want to do it?”
Wolf stood and put his hands on his hips in an intentionally commanding gesture. “I can’t start my Op until the other two teams are gone and settled in. I’ll sit down with Storc and Jo tonight and give them the protocols for relocating.” He looked at Marsh. “Start figuring out who’s going with who. Anyone who’s not up to one hundred percent health should go with you or Thompson. I’m going to need battle ready security.”
Marsh nodded solemnly but then looked at Wolf. “If I had to, I could probably recruit a few more heads.”
“It’s tempting, but the FBI and Homeland Security probably have full folders on everyone here. They’ll be watching anyone and everyone you might contact.” He put his hand on Marsh’s shoulder. “As far as this current version of the US Government is concerned, we are the most dangerous traitors to the country since the Civil War.”
Marsh flinched as if that simple statement caused him physical pain.
Wolf squeezed his shoulder supportively. “Don’t worry. When this is all over, they’ll be naming elementary schools after you.”
“Don’t you have to be dead before they do that?”
“So, they’ll wait a few years,” Wolf said with a sideways grin. “But think about it this way. If we don’t succeed, how we’re remembered won’t make a damn bit of difference. It’ll be the end of the Republic.”
That sobering thought drew expressions of resolve to both Marsh and Nick’s faces. Nick looked to the farmhouse. “Who’s going to tell John?”
“I will,” Wolf said quietly. “He’s already pretty sure I’ve undermined all his credibility. I won’t let him think you’ve betrayed him, too.”
Nick scoffed. “Like he won’t figure that out.”
“Hey!” Seifert called from behind them, drawing their attention to him. “We’ve got a vehicle in here. Is there anything special we need to know about it before we drag it out?”
“It’s loaded with munitions,” Wolf said, walking over to the SEALs at the doorway. “But there aren’t any booby traps.”
Seifert nodded. “Alright fellas. Unblock it and hook up those chains.”
After removing the cable ties and chocks from the wheels, four SEALs tugged on the chains. The windowless panel van rolled slowly to the front of the container. The men stopped its forward movement once it passed clear of the opening.
“Open her up,” Nick said.
Cooper and Seifert lifted the back door. Inside, military weapon crates, explosives, and ammo chests filled the back. The mood shift was palpable—the men smiled and grunted their excitement, and a new sense of purpose filled their movements. They unloaded the van and began opening the boxes with renewed vigor. This was something they knew—something familiar.
Nick leaned close to Wolf and whispered. “You sure do know how to buy loyalty.”
Wolf shook his head. “Loyalty isn’t purchased. It’s earned and rewarded.”
Nick slapped Wolf on the back. “Yep…you’ve become John.”
Wolf smiled. As long as you don't figure out I’m not Scott.
**
5:45 p.m. — Defense Intelligence Agency Special Projects Section, research and training compound, Fort Detrick, Maryland
KATHRIN rolled over in her bed, pressing her face to the wall. She still had trouble remembering everything, but lingering in the back of her mind, driving her will to survive was the sense she had been betrayed. By who, exactly, she couldn’t remember. But with each impulse she had to picture her love, her man, Scott, she felt rage bubble to the surface.
“Are you awake?” she whispered to the wall.
A rustling on the other side preceded a nearly imperceptible grunt. “Uh.”
“Has your fever broken?” she asked.
Through the vent just below her came a sigh. “I think so… You?”
“Ja.” Kathrin’s finger traced the word on the wall.
Through the wall came the sound of more rustling sheets, bringing a small peace to her disturbed mood.
“You can’t sleep?”
She shook her head as if her companion were across a table rather than in an adjoining cell. “No.”
“What’s bothering you?”
Kathrin flicked her finger across a single tear running down her cheek. “I don’t know what’s real,” she said softly.
A long silence filled her with growing despair until she felt a trace of warmth against her cheek on the wall. She turned her hand and pressed her fingertips to the spot. She was rewarded with a sense of connection.
“I think we were betrayed.” Tris’s voice sounded tortured as if something were eating her from the inside out. Guilt? Despondency?
Kathrin thought about that for a second, turning the simple statement over in her head until it aligned with her own feelings. Tris was right—she felt betrayed, too.
“How did you get here?” Kathrin asked.
“It doesn’t matter,” Tris whispered. “I thought I was doing good, but it turns out I was a pawn.”
Kathrin felt a sudden sense of calm as if some long missing piece of information had been found and snapped into place. She was about to reply when the latch on the outside of her door clacked open.
Her body tensed, and she instinctively drew herself up from her bed, coiled for battle as if her body hadn’t just been in the throes of agony. The lights came on first, striking her optic nerves like needles. When the door opened, she stood up on her bed, her muscles melting into an attack she could already feel—she felt powerful.
“Come down from there,” the woman said as she backed into the room rolling a cart behind her. “You aren’t steady enough for acrobatics yet.”
Like a pressure valve had been released, the pent up steam of Kathrin’s attack bled away, and she sat as commanded, legs dangling over the edge of the bed and her hands clasped in her lap.
The woman fussed with items on the cart for a moment, then looked back over her shoulder to Kathrin as she lifted the lid off a catering dish. “Eggs,” she said with a smile. “Are you hungry?”
Kathrin paused to take stock of her physical condition—in fact, she was hungry. She nodded.
The woman handed the heaping plate of eggs to Kathrin along with a cloth napkin wrapped around metal cutlery. Confusion rolled over Kathrin, realizing the woman had just handed her a means by which she could be killed—and she had left the door open.
Am I a prisoner?
“You should eat while I’m taking your vitals,” the woman said, unrolling a blood pressure cuff. “Just keep your movements to a minimum.” The woman winked at Kathrin, provoking a deep sense of safety.
As the medical technician tended to her duties, Kathrin scooped egg into her mouth and bit
hungrily into thick slices of bacon.
“How are you feeling?” the woman asked as she pushed the tip of a laser thermometer into Kathrin’s ear.
Kathrin paused her chewing to take stock once again. “I have a headache,” she said slowly resuming her chewing. “And I’m cold.”
“It’s cold in here,” the tech said with a grin. “I’ll have them turn up the heat. But in the meantime, I’ve brought you some fresh clothes…warmer than those.” She pointed at Kathrin’s soiled workout pants and sports bra.
Kathrin looked down and nodded before resuming her meal.
“These eggs!” Tris called from the other room. “I don’t think I’ve ever tasted better.”
“I know, right?” Her jaw clenched up mid-bite. However true the sentiment, the exuberance of her response had been involuntary.
What is happening?
The tech chuckled as she pulled a neat stack of clothes from the bottom of the cart, complete with sweatpants, hooded sweatshirt, clean panties, bra, socks, and a pair of plain white tennis shoes.
“Can I clean up before putting those on?” Kathrin asked, testing her boundaries. “I’m filthy.”
“Of course!” the tech replied, pointing at the corner of the small room.
There, Kathrin saw a closed panel. The tech walked over and touched it causing it to lift back, exposing a group of chrome buttons. “This one for toilet,” she said, pressing one and revealing a fold down metal seat. “And this one for shower.” After pressing another button, the toilet retracted, and a nozzle projected rudely out of the wall. “Hot and cold here.”
Kathrin stared at the wall for a moment, disappointed that bathing wouldn’t require leaving the room. She wanted to know if she was a prisoner.
The tech pulled a folded towel, a washcloth, and some toiletry items from beneath the cart and set them on the bed in a neat pile next to her.
“Is there anything else I can get for you, aside from an analgesic for your headache?”
Kathrin looked at her hands and rubbed her fingertips together, trying to formulate a desire—a desire of any sort. But despite her most sincere attempt, she couldn’t voice a want for anything. She shook her head.
