The Pilgrim Strain

by Edgar, C. P.

  “Yeah man, safe travels. We'll see you there.” Rainer had said moving to the back of the van in order to grab his and Merissa's packs.

  Ed turned to Merissa. “You are in good hands. Rainer is a good man, and he will protect you.” He said this as Rainer rounded the corner of the van coming back to them carrying the two bags, one slung over his shoulder.

  “With me life,” he said with a wink and with a touch of a Scottish accent. He looked to Ed and then passed a smile to Merissa, handing her bag to her.

  Ed shook hands with Rainer and then jumped back into the passenger seat of the van. Daggan, seen through the window gave Rainer a mock salute and a smile before gunning it, squealing the front tires as they departed.

  Rainer laughed and then started walking toward the front of the airport making sure that Merissa was with him. She was following him a stride or two behind, having just taken her sunglasses off and placing them into the crook of her grey V-neck T-shirt. She checked to make sure the glasses didn't pull her shirt down too far, showing too much cleavage. A girl must be proper. Her mom's earnest lady commandments still dominating her morality years later.

  She was bumped hard from the side. The teenage boy moving laterally against her had caught hold of her shoulder bag and began pulling on it. She figured he had accidentally run into her. She believed it so, she uttered “I'm sorry,” while turning to try to free the bag from him. It must be hung up somehow on him.

  As she faced him, the boy was lifted from the ground and slammed hard onto his back. The thud audible as he impacted the concrete walkway laid out across the front of the departure terminal. Rainer placed his knee down hard on the boy's chest, producing a whimper. He straddled the boy quickly and slammed his left foot down on the hand that clutched a five inch straight blade knife which had been hidden within the long sleeve of his tattered shirt.

  “Let go of the lady's bag,” Rainer said in a low but forceful growl.

  The boy, who was probably seventeen and just beginning to produce a beard of sorts, ground down on his teeth as Rainer cranked up the pressure on the boy's bones. His hand opening with the pain, releasing the knife which clattered onto the ground. His other hand released hold of Merissa's bag which she hadn't even realized she had relinquished during the very brief encounter.

  Rainer grabbed the knife and picked the boy up by the front of his shirt, lifting him clear off the ground and then placing him back onto his feet. Looking around to make sure the Iraqi police or contract airport security were not barreling down on them, he pushed the boy off into the direction of the exit. “Get out of here. Rooh B'eed!” Rainer exclaimed more sternly.

  The boy gave him a dirty look and then turned and ran, his sandals clacking as they hit the pavement.

  “Let's go,” Rainer said placing his hand on Merissa's lower back and ushering her forward and into the departure terminal. She could feel his powerful hand directing her along, it felt warm and strong against her back.

  Rainer moved her a few steps inside the doorway and then along the inside wall to an area void of people. He considered her eyes, “Are you okay? Did he hurt you?”

  “No. I mean, yes, I am ok. And no, he didn't hurt me. I didn't even know what he was trying to do. I thought I somehow was at fault. How, how did you know he was attacking me? You were in front of me,” she said looking at him with a half-smile, bewildered by the speed and force of his reaction to the threat.

  He was close to her, like he was still ready to protect her. She was sure he would grab her and hold her if he had to. She could feel his breath against the inside of her neck.

  “Okay,” he said suddenly smiling warmly at her. “Stay close Merissa. Ed would kill me if I let anything happen to you.”

  “So, is that the only reason you would protect me?” she blindly whispered, immediately aware of how strong that must have sounded. She blushed and looked away.

  Rainer set his jaw and looked deeply at her, waiting patiently for her to move her gaze back upon him. She shyly looked back knowing he was waiting. He searched her eyes, and she his, for what felt like eternity.

  “I would protect you no matter the circumstances Merissa because I care about you,” he said letting a moment or two pass so it would sink in. He smiled and took a step back, “Now, let's focus on getting you home safely so you can save the world, Doctor.” He winked at her and went back to his normal mission-oriented posture, walking off in the direction of the ticketing counters.

  She took a moment to finally breathe, letting the goose bumps on her skin recede before setting off after him.

  They went through the motions of ticketing, security, and the normal travel activities without further incident. Luckily, they had a direct flight, not having to reroute or fly to a secondary layover like the other teams would.

  Merissa tried to remain focused on the task at hand but her mind kept wandering. She and Rainer said little to each other, other than the normal pointing out of directions, but on the couple of occasions when he had asked her for something or had inquired whether she was hungry she had fumbled the response like a teenage girl. She had been avoiding looking directly at him, but would sneak in a glance when she knew he wasn't looking.

  Now here they sat, hours later in flight. They still had plenty of time left before they landed in D.C. so she decided enough was enough.

  “Rainer?” she whispered.

  “Yes,” he immediately responded without opening his eyes.

  She smiled. I guess I know the answer to that mystery, she thought. “Where are you from?”

  He opened his eyes and turned to face her. Watching her for a second and seeing that she wasn't going to shy away from him he answered, “You can call me Chris, Merissa. My friends call me Chris back home.”

  “Where is that?”

  “I grew up in Anderson, South Carolina outside of Greenville. It's a small city near the Georgia border.”

  “Is that where your family is now?”

  “Yeah. My mother and my sister still live in Anderson. My father passed away a few years ago. I had an older brother who was on the teams, but he died in Afghanistan in 2003.”

  “I'm sorry Chris, I didn't mean to pry.”

  “No, it's ok. My brother died a hero, and I never get to talk about my family so it's nice.” He smiled at her again.

  “Are you married?” she asked hesitantly.

  “No. I never had time to get to that stage. I was close once, but I was deployed so often that it didn't work out in the end.”

  They sat there for a moment or two bordering on uncomfortable. A flight attendant rescued them by interrupting. She had seen that they were talking, and as the rest of the aircraft passengers were asleep, she took the opportunity to see if Merissa or Rainer wanted anything to drink or snack on.

  Merissa politely asked for a ginger ale on ice, and Rainer a bottle of water. The flight attendant, a petite light-skinned black female, walked off in the direction of the forward galley obviously overjoyed to have something to take up a couple moments of her time.

  “How about you?” Rainer asked.

  “Me what?” Merissa said turning to him, pleased that he had chosen to continue the conversation after the pause. She had been worried that she had spooked him.

  “Why aren't you married yet?”

  She purposefully rendered a sad expression, “Nobody has asked me yet.”

  Rainer chuckled shaking his head at her playfulness. She bit her lower lip as she looked at him and moved a fallen piece of her hair back to its place behind her ear. It wasn't exaggerated or contrived, it was more a subtle and unconscious action. She was feeling something, and he could just barely see it, but it was there.

  However, something caught his eye forward in the cabin. He looked up just in time to see the flight attendant that had taken their drink requests replacing the in-flight call receiver handset back into its cradle on the wall of the galley. Rainer knew that this was the way that the cockpit flight crew communicated wit
h the cabin attendants and normally this wouldn't have alarmed him but he saw her hand shaking as she pushed the handset back into position and she looked flushed and confused. She swallowed hard and looked as if she didn't know exactly what she should do next.

  He continued to watch her as she finally summoned two other attendants over to her and began whispering to them. Rainer saw an older female gasp slightly at the news and react by putting her hand to her mouth and looking around. Something bad is going down. He wondered if there had been some act of terrorism upon the homeland or elsewhere.

  “Chris? What is it?” Merissa asked him a second time. She had watched him change expressions. She watched him turn back into a warrior right before her eyes and it frightened her that he was on high alert.

  “I don't know. How do you turn this thing on?” Set into the headrest of the chair to their front were small monitors used to purchase in-flight movies and entertainment. Theirs had been off but now Rainer looked for the touch screen options needed to find a news feed, he just hoped it was a live feed and not preprogrammed.

  Merissa was able to get her unit on and was navigating to a streaming news feed when the in-flight entertainment was turned off, replaced by a message from the flight crew which stated Please return to your seats and fasten seat belts, thank you. Simultaneously the aircraft seat belt signs activated, announced with the customary intercom chime.

  Rainer unbuckled his lap belt and began standing up. “Stay here. I'll be right back.”

  He walked down the aisle to the center galley mid-aircraft where a small group of flight attendants were talking in hushed tones. A male in his midthirties was standing in the center of the others and seemed to be giving directions.

  As Rainer approached, the man moved to intercept him from proceeding and put his hand up, “Please sir, the seat belt sign has been turned on by the Captain. We are apparently heading into some really bad weather and we need everyone buckled up for safety.” He had a heavy German accent, and he clipped his words as he spoke them through a brutally fake smile.

  “Cut the shit,” Rainer said sizing the man up just in case he tried something foolish and needed to be dealt with accordingly.

  “You wouldn't have cut the news feed on the entertainment system if it was just bad weather you're expecting. You'd want everyone's minds occupied with something pleasant if we were about to be simply bounced around. Protocol, right?” He looked past the man to the others behind him and could see that they were worried. Are they afraid of me or are they afraid of something else?

  “What did the pilot tell you?” Rainer asked the young flight attendant who had taken his drink order, pointing at her. He was keeping his voice low so as not to alert other passengers nearby, but his tone was forceful and full of meaning. He could tell she wouldn't challenge him if persuaded correctly.

  He changed his tactic slightly to speed up the process and try to gain some level of trust from them. “Look, I'm one of the good guys. I can't tell you who I work for but I assure you I'm one of the guys that needs to know.” He winked at her and gave her a smile. “I can help you if you need me.”

  She relented immediately looking almost relieved to be able to express herself, “There have been three confirmed plane crashes within the past hour. Two in Europe and one in India. There are three additional planes that are unresponsive to communications, and one plane has radioed in a distress call to the United States stating that the passenger compartment has been overtaken by hostile people and they are trying to gain access into the fortified cockpit.”

  Rainer tried to process what he was hearing. It was happening again? A coordinated terrorist attack utilizing aircraft, again? No way, this is something else.

  ***

  Virginia

  The Saab swerved at the last possible moment. It shifted weight heavily onto the right side suspension as he corrected it back toward the left, just barely keeping the back end from sliding out and spinning the car off onto the median. It steadied as the weight came back onto all four tires and the car righted.

  David's heart raced from the instant dump of adrenaline. Where the hell did that ladder come from? He adjusted his rearview mirror as he tried to watch the cars behind him dodge the same obstacle, the ladder in the middle of the road getting smaller and smaller as he continued along.

  David had been driving along I-66 west since leaving the Washington D.C. area. He had just passed over the exit to Front Royal when the ladder had materialized on the road in front of him. Now behind him, he was looking forward to getting off the freeway at the intersections of I-66 and I-81 where he could finally enjoy driving west on the country roads that led to the border of Devil's Backbone State Forest.

  He always enjoyed the transition from the manic pace of the freeways to the slow and easygoing nature of the winding country roads. He loved the soothing nature of driving under the forest canopy or passing grazing fields speckled by cattle.

  It took David another forty-five minutes to wind his way through the back roads up to the nondescript entrance to the property. The paved roadway had given way to manicured gravel twenty minutes prior. Even so, the entrance to the family property was all the more remote. A simple steel gate with a heavy lock sat where it always was, across the mouth of the wooded and rugged drive leading into the forest canopy.

  David left the car running while he climbed out into the daylight, unlocked the gate and swung it open, relocking it onto the bracket this time so that he wouldn’t be stuck searching for it for an hour like the last time he was up here, months ago now. God, has it really been that long?

  He jumped back into the Saab and shifting the car back into drive continued into the entrance. He didn’t bother to shut the gate behind him.

  He took it slow as the drive snaked around. It was rutted from rain wash, and he knew that he or Ed would have to repair these sections later this year. He made a mental note to check on their supply of grading stone and ¾ inch gravel. He also remembered that the battery on the mini-excavator was dead and he cursed himself for forgetting to bring a replacement. Another item for the never-ending list.

  The forest opened at the end of the bend in the road to the ten-plus acres of open fields, structures, and a small retaining pond situated in the center of their two hundred and seventy acres of forest property. David could see that all appeared to be normal.

  The main home, a two-story beige colonial was situated on a small hill overlooking the entire open area. To the left of that was the pond with a tiny, mostly decorative dock and pond shed. On the right side of the hill closest to the far side forest wall was a large barn. There were no cars in the half-moon driveway at the front of the main house, nor any at the barn other than an old work truck under a cover and the mini-excavator.

  David parked the Saab at the front of the house. He took a moment to sit quietly in the car listening to the sounds. Birds were chirping all around the edges of the forest, bull frogs began to croak at the pond after a few moments. He caught sight of a pair of deer passing across a cut in the forest through the rearview mirror. It seemed to him that nature was satisfied that nobody was around but him. He opened the door, grabbed his pack and headed into the house. He thought about his parents’ graves momentarily, and looked over his shoulder toward the family burial ground. I need to manicure it before I leave.

  David dropped his bag at the foyer and walked down the main hall toward the back of the house and into the large, updated kitchen. He grabbed the coffee maker, plugged it in, and went to the freezer to grab some ground coffee. Luckily Ed hadn’t killed off the last of it without replacing it. Satisfied that the coffee maker was brewing some much-needed dark roast, he walked back toward the front of the residence and into the library.

  Their father had spent a lifetime building this one area of the home, and David believed he never was truly satisfied with it all the way up to his final days. There was a huge mantled stone fireplace that commanded the room. Along all the remaining wall space
were row upon row of dark hardwood shelving with volume after volume of books. In the center of the room closest to the fireplace were three large leather reading chairs. Off to the far corner was the Colonel’s mahogany desk. His reading glasses still set on the leather cigar case. David missed his father suddenly but he pushed it down below the surface.

  He sat down at the desk, enjoying the comfort of the well-worn wingback leather chair. Opening the center drawer, he pulled out a tablet PC and placed it on the desk. David powered up the unit and waited for it to connect to the Wi-Fi network. The home was remote, not lending very well toward cellular service, but his father had invested heavily in its infrastructure.

  There was a fiber optic system delivering high speed internet service that ran from the town of Gravel Springs up to a patch of land adjacent to their property that David’s father, Ret. Colonel McDaniels, had donated to Virginia as a weather station. As part of that agreement, the McDaniels’ farm as it was known would be allowed to pull fiber optic service and power from those utility easements.

  The unit chimed signaling its connection and the main desktop appeared. David opened the internet application and logged in remotely to a private server system that was housed in a tea and sandwich cafe in the local town of Lebanon Church, a store once owned and run by David and Ed’s mother. The two sons still maintained a silent ownership of the store but had sold off operating rights to a close friend of the family, Ret. General Wilson “Bear” Baxtoe and his beautiful wife.

  The server was encrypted, which in today’s world of cyber intrusions was nothing out of the ordinary. It housed the web applications for the café, bookkeeping records for the store’s financial transactions, and legal documents. It also housed a protected virtual drive that was partitioned from the other items on the server. It was protected by multifactor authentication protocols that David navigated now, which included password and passcode entries, and a PKI token code that David retrieved from an application that was running separately on his smartphone.