*****
The sun was beginning to set, and Barbara Mueller was exhausted. Catching only catnaps when she dared and providing for Bobby during the day, staying up all night to provide sentry duty was taking its toll on her. She called for him to come inside and rather than argue as was his normal behavior, he rushed to the door and quietly slipped inside.
She shut the door and locked it from within then slumped into her chair. With a heavy sigh she lifted her eyes to him and shook her head. “I don’t know how much longer I can do this, baby.”
“Mom, I’m not a baby any more, remember?” he reminded her. He pulled the small survival knife from the sheath on his hip and flashed it at her.
She smiled at him and nodded. “I know, sweetheart, but this is different. If it were just people, I wouldn’t worry so much. But…”
“I know mom. These are monsters. That’s why you melted the bullet heads and put silver on my knife,” he replied. “You told me. And I sharpen it every night before bed.”
“I know you do, sweetheart.” She yawned and stretched in her chair. “And I’m proud of you for not playing with it when you’re not supposed to.”
“It’s a tool, mom. Not a toy,” he recited.
“That’s right.” She stretched out for a short nap. She knew she shouldn’t but her body demanded it. “Keep your eyes and ears open. I’m going to take a short nap before I start my watch, okay?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
He slipped the wool blanket up over her before he made his way to the front of the cabin. He stood diligently by the door, straining his ears to listen to every sound outside. He moved carefully toward to the window and stayed in the shadows so that he could see without being seen.
He glanced at his mom sitting upright in the chair, breathing softly as she slumbered. He remembered his dad telling him that most of his ‘missions’ were time spent waiting, sitting around doing nothing, trying your best to keep from going stir crazy as you waited. He did his best to imagine that he were working with his dad now, sitting in the dark, waiting for something, but hoping for nothing to happen. He did his best not to fidget, but that is always when you get an itch. It’s either your nose or your arm. Maybe your leg starts to tingle. Something always happens that makes you want to move, but a warrior like his dad doesn’t do it. And neither would he. He would sit like a rock, unmoving, his limbs made of stone, the only thing moving would be his eyes as they scanned the darkness outside for movement.
His little imagination played out numerous glorious battles where he would protect his mom and she would herald him as the hero, just like his dad. No longer would she look at him as a kid, but a man. A short man, but a man nonetheless.
He had no idea how much time had passed when he heard the twig outside the cabin break, but the sound brought his head around in a jerking motion toward the source. He chastised himself for moving, but the sound was so sudden and so loud in the silence that it might as well have been a gunshot. Whatever had caused it had been CLOSE!
He moved a little to try to see better outside but whatever made the noise was just around the corner of the cabin, outside the view of the window. Bobby rose from the chair as quietly as he could and avoided the squeaky floor board of the cabin floor, approached his mom in her chair. He gently shook her hand to get her attention and prayed that she didn’t startle awake.
“Mom,” he whispered quietly in her ear. “Mom, we have movement outside at 8 o’clock.”
Babs startled awake, but to her credit, she didn’t utter a single word. Her eyes were wide open as she stared at her son. She caught her breath and whispered back to him, “What did you just say?”
“We have movement outside at 8 o’clock. I heard a branch or a twig break. It was loud and it was close.”
Barbara pointed to the 8 o’clock position and Bobby shook his head. He pointed to the opposite side of the cabin. Barbara scrunched her face and asked, “Eight o’clock?”
Bobby gave her an exasperated look. “Duh, mom. I looked at my watch. It happened right at 8 o’clock. Well, maybe a minute or two after. My watch might be off a little.”
She stifled a smile as she pulled her son to her chest and put herself between where he pointed and him. “Do you remember what I told you?”
“Yep. Everything.”
“Okay then. Let’s do it.” Barbara slowly moved to the rear of the cabin and lifted the area rug from the floor. The crawlspace access was underneath and she gently lifted the door to it and lowered herself into the space below. She lifted Bobby and placed him next to her and he crawled to the side and sat down crisscross applesauce. Barbara slowly lowered the door and reaching through the gap, pulled the area rug back over the top of the door to cover the access.
Her plan had always been simple; should they ever be discovered and she had enough time, they would hide below the cabin in the crawlspace. She had left dishes sit out that were days old in the hopes that whoever discovered the cabin would think that they had come and gone. Any trash that they generated throughout the day would be buried along with other waste or burned during the day. They did their absolute best to make it look as though the cabin had been empty for days.
As they sat in the darkness and waited, both mother and son hoped that whatever noise Bobby heard was nothing more than a curious raccoon or possum…even a hunter who was lost and stumbled upon the cabin for shelter for the night. Whatever the case, they would make a night of it in the crawlspace if they had to. And if they were discovered, Barbara had her pistol and enough silver ammunition to make sure that whoever came looking for them seriously regretted it.
*****
Wackenhut security officer James McDonald stayed to the shadows watching the swarm of operators as they finished constructing their practice area. He kept shaking his head as he looked at the obstacle courses and shooting ranges. There was no way that these guys could complete those challenges. He knew better. He was in top physical condition and he knew his own limitations and he knew that there was no way he could do it. Even with massive steroid abuse, the operators wouldn’t finish the first phase much less the entire course.
He slowly leaned out from his vantage area and could just see into the kill house. It didn’t look like anything special to him, just your basic close quarters combat training facility with some popup targets scattered through it.
He leaned back into the shadows and waited while the operators finished and the older grunt that had been scurrying around barking orders at them gathered them into a makeshift formation. He spoke to them for a short bit and they broke off into groups. McDonald tried to stretch his neck to see better, but he just couldn’t see from where he was.
Kicking the ground with frustration he turned back and went to check out a vehicle. He could use duty rounds as an excuse to approach from the rear and observe them in action. He’d do it from the comfort of the vehicle, and if he was fortunate, he’d get one that had video recording equipment so he could go back and study the soldiers again later.
James found a Cherokee and it had video installed. He checked it out and made his way around the base until he found himself approaching the training area from the old airstrip. The runway was long ago abandoned and the tarmac was cracked and broken, making for a very rough ride. He tried to approach with only the fog lights so as not to be too obvious. Occasionally he’d stop and light up an area with the spotlight, scaring up the odd jackrabbit or horned toad.
Slowly he made his way to the rear of the training area and found the perfect view. He could see the obstacle course and the broadside of the CQB house. If he turned in his seat, he could look downrange at the firing ranges and was shocked at the distance these operators were shooting at. At his estimation, it had to be at least seventy-five yards for pistol and well over a hundred yards with their carbines. He reached under the backseat, pulled out the binoculars, and focused in on the targets at the far end of the range. He felt his jaw go slack as he watched operator after operat
or punch the hearts or heads out on each target, first with the carbines, then slinging them over their shoulders, they’d pull their pistols and fire while advancing, closing the distance on the targets, swapping magazines as they went.
“Nobody’s that fucking good…” he whispered to himself. He quickly turned back in his seat and watched as the next squad prepared for the obstacle course and his slack jaw slowly curved into a smile. “Get ready for a wakeup call, you self-absorbed sons of—” He stopped mid-sentence as he watched the operators, in full combat gear, with their carbines slung over their shoulders begin the course and run it to completion…in record times. At the end, they were all smiles and slapping each other with high fives while James sat in his truck shaking his head. “That’s not humanly possible.”
Slowly he put the truck back into gear and pulled away. He replayed what he had just seen through his mind and kept shaking his head. “It ain’t possible,” he muttered. “It just ain’t possible.” He drove straight back to the security building and threw the truck into park. Pulling the thumb drive from the video camera, he went inside.
Captain Roberts sat at his desk finishing up the duty rosters when James burst through the door. “You need to see this.”
Roberts looked up at him with a less than happy glare. “Sure, come on in. I’m not busy working or anything,” he said with a disgruntled sigh.
“Seriously, Cap. This shit ain’t right.” James tossed the thumb drive onto his desk.
“What’s this?”
“It’s those commandos,” he replied. “They set up some kind of practice area behind their little bunker where the old air traffic control tower is? Well, they just moved in there all happy-as-a-clam and took it over.”
“Their CO commands the base now. He can pretty much do whatever he wants, remember?” Roberts turned back to his rosters.
“Just take a look at it, Cap. These guys ain’t human or something.”
Roberts paused at his comment and almost blanched. “What makes you say something like that, McDonald?”
“Watch the video,” he emphasized each word.
“You taped them?” he asked incredulously
“Yeah. You need to see this! These guys are fucking unreal!”
“Well, they are professionals. I told you they were good.” Roberts tried to turn back to his work.
“No, this isn’t ‘highly trained’ good,” James argued. “This is like…‘government project’ good.”
Roberts set his pen down carefully and turned to give James his full attention. “What? You think maybe they’re aliens?” A smirk crossed his features.
James drew back realizing he was being mocked. “Fuck you, Cap.” He leaned down to snatch up the video thumb drive but Roberts was faster.
“I seem to recall you laughing at me when I told you that monsters are real, but you find it difficult to believe that humans can be ‘improved upon’ in order to combat them…” Roberts trailed off. McDonald stared at him, his mouth open. “Beginning to rethink your position now?”
James didn’t know what to say as he stood there a moment, his mouth opening and closing but nothing coming out.
“I want you to consider something while you stand there and try to catch flies, James.” Roberts held the thumb drive in front of him. “As good as these operators truly are…the monsters are better. They’re faster, stronger, meaner and a lot more vicious.” Roberts stood and stepped closer to James and placed the thumb drive back in his hand. “They are meaner and more vicious because they are out to kill US. The operators, on the other hand, are on our side. And the sooner you get that through your thick skull, the better off we’re all going to be.”
*****
Apollo nearly shook with frustration as he approached Jack. “We need to talk,” he barked.
Jack glanced at the mountain of flesh shaking at his side and nodded. “Okay, buddy. Give me a second while I—”
“I need to talk to you now,” Apollo muttered through clenched teeth.
Jack put away the topographical maps he was going over and closed the folder. “Okay. Let’s talk.” He pulled Apollo to the side. “What’s going on?”
“It’s Maria, man. She ain’t having nothing to do with me now. I tried to hook up with her a little bit ago and all she wants to do is practice her sword shit with the Padre.”
Jack looked at him expectantly. “Is that it?” Jack shrugged. “That’s what has your shorts in a twist?”
Apollo stared at him wide eyed. “Ain’t that enough? Man, I ain’t had time to spend more than five minutes with her in over a week and now that we do, she’d rather knock swords with Hank than spend time with me…and you think it’s no big deal?”
Jack smiled and shook his head. “Buddy, you need to take a chill pill and learn to relax. Go take a cold shower or something…”
“Man, I thought you would understand!” Apollo exclaimed.
“Understand what?” Jack shrugged. “You caught her in the middle of her exercise routine and you expect her to drop everything because you have five minutes to spare?” He looked at Apollo expectantly. “And now you get all antsy and pissed because she doesn’t drop what she’s doing, throw her clothes to the floor and jump your big ugly ass in front of God and everybody for a quickie before you run back out the door?”
Apollo stared at Jack with a blank expression on his face, the tic in his jaw gone.
“So am I reading you right?” Jack asked.
“Well…I…”
“Well?” He raised his brows at him. “Did you or did you not just get all pissed off because your girl didn’t drop everything for a quickie because you found five minutes in your busy schedule?”
Apollo’s face flushed as he realized he was being a jerk. “Man, I didn’t think about it that way.”
“No, I don’t think you did,” Jack said. “What if it was the other way around? What if she had found five minutes in her schedule and you were busy with something? Maybe you were in a meeting with the colonel? Would you tell Mitchell to piss off because you had to go service your girl?”
“Well, come on now, she was just practicing swords and…”
“And that is important to her!” Jack emphasized each word, hoping it would sink into Apollo’s thick skull. “Buddy, you know I love you, but you have to understand something. She was scared to death on that hilltop. Her first real mission in the muck and she almost bought it. She ran out of ammo up there, and it was the Padre and the rest of the crew that came to her rescue. She saw what he could do with a blade and realized…blades don’t run out of bullets in the thick of it. Now she is obsessed with mastering that skill.”
Apollo tried to put himself in her shoes for a moment and sighed. He nodded his big head and had to agree with Jack. “I see what you’re saying.”
“I would hope so.” Jack slapped his shoulder. “Give her this time and let her vent her frustrations on Hank. Besides, he’s teaching her something that could very well save her life.”
“Yeah, I know. I just wish I could have a little of the time he’s spending with her.”
“Let him teach her the skills to protect herself and you’ll have the rest of her life to spend with her.”
Apollo nodded, and although he still wished he could play a little slap-n-tickle with Maria, he felt better about the whole situation. “How is it you know all the right things to say to keep me from losing it?”
Jack patted his big shoulder. “I think Nadia rubbed off on me.” He smiled. “You do realize that she has all the common sense in this relationship, right?”
“Now that I believe!”
13
Mark was exhausted. He stumbled to his office and kicked open the door to the makeshift quarters behind his desk. He didn’t even bother with the light as he staggered to the military issue bunk and fell on it. “What a night,” he mumbled as he quickly drifted off to sleep.
After returning from Tinker with the equipment needed to construct the makeshi
ft training facility, he then supervised the men in constructing it, stayed up half the night as they ran drills and followed up with training evaluations for Mitchell then tweaked the response times for the popup targets to increase the reaction rates for the operators…coffee only goes so far. His mind had just reached the abyss when a knock came at his office door. At first he refused to answer it. He wanted so desperately to sleep, but with a barely conscious groan he lifted himself from the mattress and stepped back out into his office.
“Yeah.” Mark dropped into his chair and rubbed at his bristly face.
Dominic pushed the door open. “I need to talk to you.” He stuck his head in questioningly.
Mark rubbed at his eyes. “Come on in,” he yawned.
“Is this a bad time?”
“Naw. I was thinking of sleeping, but I’ll have plenty of time for that when I’m dead,” he joked. “What’s the problem?”
Dominic took a deep breath and held it a moment before starting. “The colonel and I aren’t seeing eye-to-eye on something, and I think it’s pretty important. I wanted to talk to you about it.”
Mark nodded, suddenly feeling a little more alert. “Go on.”
“You know when I was gone? In Italy? I was in the coma and all? Well, I had a bit of a revelation…”
Dominic went on to explain how the Sicarii had filled his mind with his memories and how it had almost driven him insane. He also told of how there was something constantly on the edge of his mind that he couldn’t quite grasp until he was under the influence of the drugs. Now that he knew what that something was, the Colonel didn’t seem that interested in pursuing it.
“Did he say why he didn’t want to pursue this?”
“No, sir, not really. He said that we didn’t have enough intel. We didn’t know what the importance of the dirt was, how to deal with it, where to find it, if it could be destroyed or tainted…” he trailed off.
Tufo nodded. “Well, I can see his point, but that doesn’t mean we shouldn’t look into it.” He yawned again. “Tell you what, Dom. Give me a little time to mull this over. Maybe between the two of us we can figure something out with or without the colonel.”
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