Rise of the Phoenix

by Gibbs, Dameon

  While they were waiting for lunch Dana, Edge, and Arslan spoke about whatever the kid wanted to talk about. Sometimes the conversation went back to the cabin, other times it went to a TV show or movies. Dana was impressed with how Edge was interacting with the kid. He seemed to follow the same approach she would have used, and he did not shy away from asking the difficult questions or pressing the kid. Edge remembered to ask if Arslan would like the banners from his bedroom to decorate the walls of the office. Arslan very excitedly said yes and thanked Edge several times.

  Eventually, the topic of conversation returned to the camcorder. Arslan mentioned that it was his present from his father for his birthday. “It must mean a lot to you.” Edge commented.

  “It does,” Arslan replied. “He gave it to me because he said something big was going to happen, and he wanted me to be able to record it.”

  “Well, that sounds cool. Did he tell you what it was he wanted you to record?” Dana asked.

  “No.”

  “Well, we took a lot of stuff and put it into the basement here in a locker, so it’s safe. Do you want me to go and get it?” Edge asked, knowing that they did not have it, but he wanted to steer the conversation.

  “I don’t think you have it,” Arslan responded.

  “Why do you think that?” Dana asked surprised.

  “Because I hid it,” he replied.

  “Well I hope you didn't feed it to an alligator,” Edge commented.

  Arslan chuckled. “No, I hid it in the cabin so if the men came back, they would not find it.”

  “Well, if you want after lunch I can take a run up there and get it for you. Do you want me to do that?” Edge asked. Arslan seemed to be deep in thought. He’s probably trying to decide whether or not to trust me. This was a gamble question, but I had to ask it. After a few moments, Edge realized that Arslan did not have an answer. “Tell you what; you don’t have to answer that right now. Lunch will be here in a few; we’ll eat, laugh and have a good time. When you’re ready, you’ll tell me.”

  As Arslan nodded his head, a knock came at the door. “Yes! Food!” Edge said as he opened the door. Tucker and Reid stood there with all the bags. Edge took Reid’s bags while Tucker came in. As they set the table, Dana walked over to Arslan and started talking to him. It gave Edge the opportunity to talk to Tucker without the kid knowing. “You get anything yet?” Tucker whispered.

  Speaking softly Edge said, “He said it's in the cabin somewhere, but he isn't ready to tell me exactly where. Worst case, though, we go out there and take the place apart stick by stick until we find it. He may still tell me: I’ve got one last angle to play.”

  “Are you sure it will work?” Tucker asked.

  “No promises,” Edge continued, then as he sniffed his burger, he said in a full voice, “Hmmm, smells good. Ok, Arslan lunch time.” He looked at Tucker, who did not seem satisfied with Edge’s plan. He just whispered to the analyst, “Trust me.”

  Tucker mouthed his response. “Trying.” He turned and walked out of the room. “Ok guys enjoy lunch. I’ve got a meeting to get to.”

  “See ya, Tucker,” Dana said.

  “Thank you,” Arslan said as he sat at the table. Dana and Edge starting commenting on how good the food was, trying to pull Arslan into the conversation. For the first few minutes, the boy took small bites of his burger and fries, sipping at his soda. Soon, maybe due to hunger, or delight at a new experience or just following the example of Dana and Edge as they heartily chowed down on their food, he began to eat more eagerly, demolished his fries, chugged his soda and let out a massive burp. Arslan looked stunned and a little embarrassed that such a thing had happened. He was supposed to be more refined than that. Edge and Dana just let out a laugh. “Wow," said Edge, "that one even made me feel better." Arslan giggled. "Appears that you like the food.”

  “It’s very tasty,” Arslan said as he bit into his burger. “I have always wanted to try it, but never asked my dad.” For a moment, he slipped back into his sad state.

  Edge put his hand on the boy’s shoulder. “Arslan, I promise you I will find the people that killed your father.” The boy just stared at his burger. “Do you remember anything about them, what they look like, who they work for. Are you sure you’ve never seen them before?”

  “I’m sure. That was the first time I’d seen them.”

  “Well, I'll keep looking and try to find something, anything to help us.” Edge said reassuringly.

  Arslan’s face changed and became devoid of emotion as he looked at Edge. “If you catch them, do you promise to kill them for what they’ve done to my father?” Arslan asked coldly. Edge had expected a response like this, but the tone still took him by surprise. His grief is matched only by his anger.

  “I’ll see to it that they pay for what they did.” Edge responded. “I promise you.” Arslan stood up went to Edge and whispered something in his ear. Edge's gambit had worked.

  The boy then sat down in his chair again and continued to eat. They sat in silence for the next few minutes. When the ice cream came out, Arslan perks up once again. This was probably another bit of American culture that his father had not introduced him to. Tucker had brought three different types, so they were able to get Arslan talking again by trying each other’s flavors. Edge had obtained what he needed so now the priority was to make the kid feel good and laugh.

  After lunch, exhaustion coupled with a case of hound dog syndrome from a full stomach overcame Arslan, who promptly fell asleep watching TV with Edge and Dana. Dana volunteered to stay while Edge left to get the camera. As he left, she mouthed “Good work” to him with a smile. Edge responded by taking a bow with his exit.

  Tucker was waiting outside the door, his keys dangling in his hand. “Can we head to the cabin now?”

  “Yeah, you and I will go,” Edge said as he turned to Reid, who was just exiting the observation room. He waved Reid over to them. “I need you to do some research. Arslan said that his dad told him something big was coming. It has to be an attack. Look up any events in the coming days that might attract attention. A new hotel, plane unveiling, political gathering, whatever.”

  “On it,” Reid responded. “I’m assuming he gave up the camera's location to you?”

  Edge nodded. “Clever boy hid it under the floor in the kitchen.”

  “Resourceful kid,” Reid said, amazed.

  “Reid, do you have a computer somewhere I can jump onto before we leave? I need to check something out,” Edge asked.

  “Yeah you can use the one in my office.”

  As Reid and Edge walked off, Tucker called to them. “Hey, I’ll meet you guys up there. I just need to check in with Langley see if they got anything.” He gave a big sigh of relief. Finally, we're moving. I just hope it's not too late.

  Chapter 8

  The car was so basic and nondescript that any lookout would have instantly recognized it as a government vehicle. Its forward movement along what was, allegedly, a dirt road was punctuated by wild bounces as various ruts and potholes did their best to send the vehicle either into the river on the right or the field of waist-high grasses on the left.

  “Yeah,” said Edge, “Looks like I’ll be visiting some distant relatives for a little while. Got some family matters to deal with.”

  “Did they welcome their long-lost kin?” Doom asked, remembering what Edge had said as the car picked him up.

  “I’m presently in their good graces, although I’m not too sure I’m enjoying myself at the moment. I’m sitting in a sedan with a driver who’s not that good at off-roading, and there’s bad weather forming. I’m dreading the ride back if that storm hits,” Edge replied, looking to his left to see Tucker’s reaction. Tucker, however, was deep in his phone call and had no idea what Edge was saying.

  “Where are you at that you’re off-roading in a sedan?”

  “We’re not really; it’s just that the road is as bad as anything in Afghanistan and this guy’s driving just completes the exp
erience. I don’t know if he’s aiming for the potholes or is just oblivious.” Edge glanced left again, but Tucker’s attention was clearly elsewhere.

  “Oh, Edge hold on for a sec,” Doom said. Edge heard the phone click over and then after a few seconds it came back. “Hey, that’s the wife, probably calling to make sure I didn’t burn the house down.”

  “Yes, someone who understands the man she married. Tell her I said hello.

  “I will, and for the record, it was Dust who nearly burned out the kitchen.

  Edge smiled. “You know it is with her: guilty by association.”

  “A fine quality of hers. But if I don’t hang up, I’m going to encounter some of her lesser ‘fine qualities.’ Later bro.” Doom said.

  “Later,” said Edge ending the call. Doom’s wife was a sweet and loving woman, but you don’t marry someone like Doom without having a strong side.

  Edge took another look up at the increasingly dark sky as the purple and gray clouds began to mix. A typical Everglades thunderstorm.

  Tucker was completely focused on his conversation with his boss, DCI Winford, and Edge wished that he was not driving at the same time. Edge’s seat belt was permanently locked from all the jostling, and he was glad for it because otherwise his head would be making regular contact with the roof of the car. Edge was impressed with the thoroughness and detail of Tucker’s information and the authority with which he spoke to his boss; his driving, not so much.

  “Yes sir, it is highly probable that John Doe was involved in the incident, and he is only one of the reasons that we find it necessary to head out to the site,” Tucker responded.

  Edge could hear Winford’s muffled voice ask Tucker, “Do you even know where the item is?”

  “We know within a few feet, but we may have to do some minor searching. I also want to walk through the site again and see if I can find anything that others may have missed,” Tucker explained.

  “By others, you mean our organizational brethren?” Winford inquired.

  “I mean any party that was present at the scene,” Tucker replied. “If they missed finding the item in question, there’s a chance they missed something else, too.”

  There was a brief silence at the other end and then, “Alright, I’m sold. Is it just you two going out there? Do you need any other backup or assistance?”

  “Affirmative on the two of us but I don’t foresee any problems. I think we will be fine,” Tucker responded confidently.

  “All right. Debrief me on what you find,” Winford said before hung up.

  Tucker ended his call with Winford and looked at Edge, who was examining the surrounding area. “You look nervous. I’d think that a Delta would be more at home out here.”

  “Oh, I’ve spent many a month in environments like this, and it doesn’t bother me. What does bother me is the whole you and me out here in the middle of nowhere squared thing. Meaning support is not right around the corner. Are you sure this couldn’t have waited until tomorrow? It’s getting late in the day, and there’s ugly weather approaching.” “Time is of the essence,” Tucker said.

  Giving up on reasoning with Tucker, Edge pulled some printed images out of his satchel and started studying them. “How far is this place?”

  Tucker saw the printouts. “What’ve you got there? Aerial shots of the cabin? You planning on taking a hike after we search the house?”

  “Always want to know the terrain in case we have to take an impromptu excursion.”

  “Do you think that someone is going to come after us? Like the guys who killed Gamze?” Tucker said, mockingly. “How would they know we are out here? Or what we are looking for, for that matter?”

  “It doesn’t pay to underestimate an adversary. The guys who took out Gamze are big-league probably with deep pockets. Deep pockets can buy very sophisticated equipment and the people who know how to use it effectively. The success rate that my team has and the reason we get to come home at night and get up the next morning come home at the end of the mission is because we anticipate the worst and take nothing for granted. You can’t assume you know your enemy’s position. Besides, I never said I thought they were coming after us. You’re forgetting about Arslan. If they knew there was a loose end, they might be watching the cabin, searching for him.”

  Tucker just shook his head. “I know what we’re dealing with; that’s why I took the case. I said before that I appreciate your worst case scenarios, but I think right now you’re giving these guys too much credit.”

  Edge put the aerial photos back in his pocket. “How do you know that these guys don’t have the cabin under some surveillance? How do you know we haven’t been spotted by a lookout who’s gonna call those guys back in? How do you know that some of Gamze’s clan isn’t waiting there looking for vengeance and is going to shoot first and ask questions later? You’re not dealing with something as tame as office politics here. You have to think about these things.”

  “That requires a hell of an imagination.”

  “You should read my stories from my creative writing class that I took a few years back,” Edge said, amused, as he took out his 9mm Berretta 92FS, with a fifteen-round magazine. He pulled the slide back and watched the bullet enter the chamber. He looked down the sight, popped the safety on and slid it back into the holster.

  Tucker grinned at a mental of Edge bent over a typewriter, glasses on, tapping away with his two index fingers. “Words and guns?” he asked. “Creative writing classes? You? Gonna become a poet next?”

  “Searching for my Zen,” Edge replied.

  “Ah, there it is, right around the bend.”

  Edge saw the cabin peeking through some trees on his left as they came up to a turn. “Man, if this were located in the mountains in Montana I would be in heaven,” he said, taking in the grandeur of the place.

  “Yeah, looks nice. Too bad neither of us will ever be able to afford something like it,” Tucker sighed as he pulled up the driveway and parked at the front of the cabin. As he got out, he made a quick three-hundred sixty degrees scan of the property and noticed Edge doing the same, only more intently, his weapon now drawn and lowered, but ready for action. He got that same high-alert vibe he felt in the jet.

  “You think someone is going to attack us?” Tucker asked incredulously.

  Not detecting an immediate threat, Edge checked his spare magazines. “While on the subject of getting attacked by bad guys who won’t show up, what is your experience with guns? Specifically, what’s your experience with having them fired at you?”

  “I go to the range often enough to know how to fire a sidearm,” Tucker replied.

  Edge nodded in acknowledgment. Well, at least he’s not a total desk jockey. “But you’ve never been in a combat situation?”

  “Never even in a video game,” Tucker admitted.

  “Well, if my gut is right, that will change by the time we’re done with all this.”

  Tucker checked the sky as thunder rumbled off in the distance. “Let’s get this done before the rain starts and that road becomes impossible to drive on.”

  “Yeah… I think I’ll do the driving on the way back,” Edge commented.

  If Tucker heard the comment, he didn’t show it. Working for the CIA had taken him many places, generally hot but usually dry and sandy, not humid and swampy. The rapidly approaching storm drove the humidity up to almost unbearable levels, and he thought back to his first exposure to the desert heat on Operation Nightwolf. Between the two, he wasn’t sure he had a preference.

  “What we came for is inside,” Edge said, stepping under the first crime scene tape that wrapped around the entrance of the cabin.

  Tucker followed. “Okay. I want to check the entire cabin, though, specifically the bedroom and office.”

  As they approached the front door, Edge held his sidearm low and ready. “Let me sweep the place first. You know, to ease my paranoid mind,” emphasizing his last words in a mocking tone.

  Tucker bowed and wave
d his hands toward the door in an “after you” gesture. “To ease your mind,” Tucker allowed.

  Edge opened the door and entered quickly, panning left, then scanning to the right. Moving precisely and efficiently, he covered all the rooms in under two minutes. He returned to the front door. “Clear.”

  “You see anything?” Tucker asked, stepping into the cabin. “Not much to see. DHS packed up most everything and pretty well disassembled whatever they didn’t take,” Edge replied, holstering his weapon. “Not sure how thorough they were. It looks like they primarily searched the obvious places.”

  They went to the dining room and absorbed the grisly details of the crime scene. Bullet holes littered the wall and furniture; dried blood splattered the walls, and four dried pools of blood stained the hardwood floor. Edge walked through the room and envisioned himself in the shoes of the shooters. “These guys walked in the door knowing exactly what they were going to do. It was planned, coordinated. Gamze’s men had no chance.”

  Tucker found himself in awe at the amount of blood the human body held. “Reid was right; they were slaughtered,” Tucker concluded, his last words sticking in his throat as he gagged at the odor.

  “You’re not gonna hurl on me, are you?” Edge asked as Tucker shook his head. “Goodman. Don’t worry; you’ll get used to the smell.”

  Tucker put his hands on his hips as he breathed out. “I’m not planning on dealing with this kind of thing on a regular basis. Let’s get to the kitchen.”

  “As I said, I think you’re going to get involved in more than you bargained for with this case.” Edge said, leading the way into the kitchen. “Now where is that floor board?”