by Theo Cage
Soon, she fell right into character. Yes, she was frightened and she did need help. The cries seemed to explode from some hidden place deep down inside, and real tears were flowing down her cheeks. She stumbled and fell, spraining her wrist. She climbed up, a bellow emerging from her chest, so loud it shocked her.
Where were these men? Had they changed directions? Had they gone into hiding?
Then she heard a soft click. A safety was being engaged.
“Miss?” said a voice behind her. She turned right into the barrel of a semi-automatic rifle. He was young, a fierce look of resolve on his face. Behind him stood another young man, also armed.
“Please,” she said. “He needs help. I think he's dying.”
“Who?” said one of the men, the barrel inches from her face.
“The terrorist. The man who shot up the Inn. He took me hostage. But he's hurt badly.”
“Let's go.”
“No. I need to talk to your commanding officer. I have a message for him.”
CHAPTER 98
Indian Creek, Indiana
TRENT WAS BACK in the Land Rover, racing down Lincoln Hills Road toward the last point they had seen Rice. He was furious. Their helicopter had fired on a bloody two-man fishing boat. Then Trent had lost communication with both men onboard the Black Hawk. He couldn’t understand why his brother wasn’t calling back. What the hell was going on?
A mile from Indian Creek, his cell phone rang again - the call from one of the surviving members of Team Tango.
“This better be a kill confirmation,” growled Trent.
“Sir. We’ve found a woman in the forest near Woodland Trail. She says she has Rice and wants to talk to you.”
“She's a diversion, you fucking jarhead. Where is Rice?”
Someone grabbed the satellite phone from the soldier's hands and yelled into the receiver. “Operation Kindergarten!” A female voice. Rice’s bitch.
Trent could see the soldiers looking at each other as if they were in the presence of a mad woman.
Trent heard the woman's anxious breathing, loud in his ear. “That means nothing to me,” said Trent.
“Are you the commanding officer for this operation?”
“Is this Britt Johnson?”
Trent heard a commotion over the line. Clearly one of the soldiers was wrestling with the woman. Good. She deserve it. He heard her fall to the ground, cry out in anger. Then one of the soldiers retrieved the phone.
“Put her back on,” said Trent.
Britt’s voice roared in his ear. She was not the least bit cowed by his men. “If you don't know what I'm talking about, then you’re too low on the command chain to be of any interest to me.”
Trent almost laughed. “Any last words, Miss Johnson? You may have noticed you’re surrounded by twitchy killers. All I have to do is give the order.”
“Your client is going to be very upset if you do. Once he hears about the dead-man switch Rice has set-up.”
“What the fuck are talking about?” asked Trent.
“It's an app called Zulu. Look it up. Rice loaded everything he knows about Operation Kindergarten into the cloud. Names. Files. Email. Photos. It's set to send all those documents to ten major news outlets if he dies. Zulu needs to have an email confirmation daily. If not, off it goes.”
“Very impressive, Miss Johnson. But like I said, Operation Kindergarten doesn’t mean anything to me.”
“It will to your boss,” she said.
. . . . .
BEFORE THE SOLDIER on the phone could respond, Britt watched the head of the first soldier explode in front of her eyes, an ugly splash of red and pink filling the air above his right ear. The second soldier dropped to the ground and turned, but he would never stand up again. The back of his head disappeared a second after he hit the leaf litter. Britt let out an involuntary yelp and jumped back before she realized what was happening. Rice had stepped out of the trees to her right and scrambled towards the fallen soldiers. At first she guessed he was going for their guns. To her surprise, she saw him quickly untying their boots.
“What happened?” asked Trent.
Britt swallowed hard. She was no stranger to gore, but this was different. The speed of the violence was stomach-wrenching. And Rice was a killing machine. She watched him move across the clearing, just doing a job. Like a gardener pulling weeds. “Two more of your team are dead,” said Britt. “When is this going to end?”
“I was going to be lenient with you, Miss Johnson. But not anymore. You are an accomplice to a terrorist now. “
“Phone your boss,” said Britt
“I don't work for you.”
“Phone your boss. Mention Operation Kindergarten and the cloud. It's the best career move you'll ever make.”
CHAPTER 99
Indian Creek, Indiana
RICE FELT HIS STATION IN LIFE had risen significantly in the past half hour. He was now wearing boots and socks, and his feet were dry. He had on a camo jacket, a water jug and was carrying an AK-47 with three extra mags of ammo. Walking next to him was Britt, also in camouflage and boots, although hers were a few sizes too large. But it beat barefoot in a pine forest. He was learning firsthand how pine needles make perfect acupuncture tools.
And they had a satellite phone. Unlocked and freshly charged. And undoubtedly sending out a very robust location signal to all of their enemies. Which was too bad. Rice needed to make some calls. He had to assume that the other soldiers were at other points of the compass. There was a lot of ground to cover both in and around the hundred acres of forest.
Rice dialed Grace's number, knowing full well his conversation would most likely be on full display to the entire intelligence community. When she picked up her phone, Rice interrupted her answer.
“This is an unsecured line,” he said. “We're on a timer.”
“Got it,” she said.
“Have you got her?” he asked.
“No. But she's safe.” Grace was talking about Addie. Rice had no idea what she meant by safe. Had Grace put her up in a motel? But if she had, why would she say no? But 'safe' said to him that he didn't have to worry. So he'd move on.
“What about our cadet?” He meant Remington, Kreegar's son.
“Still being held. And the team is moving daily.” Rice wasn't sure if that was the truth or an attempt to throw off anyone listening. Kreegar would be as desperate to find his son as he would be to locate Rice, but he would have a resources problem. Any agent he put on the search for Remington was one less killer available to look for Rice. That's why they loved the tactic so much. Too bad Kreegar didn't have a wife. They could go after her as well. Or the whole damn ugly family. Payback for what he did to Scott and Jeannie.
“How are you?” asked Rice.
“A bit peckish. But other than that, brilliant.” Grace had put on a thick British accent, something she learned while going to school in the UK. Rice shook his head. He wasn't sure if the voice disguise was necessary, but he admired the skill.
“Rendezvous C,” said Rice. There were three pick-up points they discussed. 'C' was the furthest away and also the safest. Also the toughest to get to without being found. But he couldn't say when. Anyone listening could do a simple calculation and work out the possible locations.
He closed the call and hung the phone back on the clip by his belt. The rain had started up again, and the sky was growing darker.
Britt had moved behind him. Rice knew she would begin to feel the weight of the semi-automatic rifle, the extra rounds, and the heavy military boots. To their advantage, the thick carpet of pine needles and leaves absorbed most of the precipitation. It beat walking in quicksand.
Rice stopped then, doing some quick calculations, when the sat phone vibrated. He hit receive.
“Britt?” said a voice.
“No. This is Rice. I've made a remarkable recovery.”
“Kreegar wants to meet with you,” said Trent. “Before anyone else gets killed.”
; “Who are you and where's the rest of your extraction team?
“My name is Razer. Trent. And my team is standing down. Awaiting orders. If they weren't, we wouldn't be talking right now.”
“You could just leave me in peace, Razer. I didn't start this war.”
“I'm just following orders.”
“Then you're in my way. And I've got nothing to lose.” There was silence for a few seconds, and Rice guessed why. Now would normally be a perfect opportunity for two soldiers to cut through the bullshit. Unfortunately, the call was being monitored. So anything Trent said, he would have to live with for a long time.
“You come out now. I'll take you to Kreegar. And the woman goes free, no harm, no foul,” he said.
“What did your boss say about Operation Kindergarten being released to the media?”
“He wasn't impressed. And he doesn't believe you. He says he would need to know what cloud you used before he would discuss it any further.”
Rice turned to Britt behind him and put his hand to the microphone. “He wants to know what cloud?”
She shook her head and mouthed “No.” Rice put the phone back to his ear. Over the past week he had caught up a lot on the last decade, but clearly not enough.
“Razer? Let's cut through the crap. I meet Kreegar on my terms. Sunday at noon. Or I release the files. That's the deal.”
“I don't buy it, Rice. If you were going to release all this toxic information, why not do it before. Why not hold it over everyone's head before we come after you. Why now?”
“I spent ten years on a mountain side, Razer. I didn't have that option. Then you and your men flushed me out. I've learned a lot in the past few days. If you had left me alone, I'd still be up there enjoying the quiet. This is your fault. You opened the floodgates, not me.”
. . . . .
TRENT KNEW changing battlefield conditions almost always dictated strategy. Everything else was military bullshit. Rice was no longer a kill target. If what he said was correct, they needed to keep him alive and learn the codes that would defeat the Zulu program from releasing files. Trent had no idea what these files contained but he knew Britt Johnson had suddenly become more valuable. She was an ally and a friend, maybe even a lover. She could provide the leverage they needed. She may even be the one managing the program for Rice. They might not even need him.
Trent had researched Zulu on his smartphone. Zulu was an electronic version of a dead-man's switch. If someone didn't enter a password every day at a given time, emails automatically went out. He called the rest of his team and gave them instructions. They were all to rendezvous near Trent's truck, not to engage with Rice, but stay alert. They merely needed to outgun the ex-agent. Trent would control the life of his girlfriend. If Rice surrenders, she lives. If not, they would have to prove a point.
CHAPTER 100
Indian Creek, Indiana
THE PICK-UP POINT Rice had planned with Grace was twenty miles away. She would be there in an hour. In order to rendezvous with her, they would need a ride. When Rice put on one of the dead soldiers jackets, he found a set of keys. A marine would never carry a personal item on a mission. They must have used a private vehicle to deploy to the forest.
To the west was the Indian River, with no bridges in the vicinity. The river flowed north, then cut sharply to the east, eliminating any access from that direction. Rice was certain the only place to park a vehicle was just beyond the ragged tree line east of them, running north and south. He didn't know how far away the truck or van might be, but it was within walking distance for the two dead marines.
Rice had to assume Razer was positioned near the vehicle, waiting for them to emerge from the trees. Probably backed up by the rest of this squad.
Rice had been leading Britt down a deer trail in an easterly direction, saving them the extra work of breaking trail. He stopped and turned to her.
“How are you holding up?” he asked.
She just shrugged. He knew this was about as far away as you can get from what she imagined the weekend would be. He had brought her to see if she was being followed, more than anything. To a building and environment he knew well and had some control over. She, on the other hand, was probably expecting a quiet, romantic weekend. Rice felt like a heel. He put his hands on her shoulders.
“This didn't turn out the way I expected either,” he said.
“Are you sure? Maybe this is your idea of fun. I don't know you that well.”
“The smart thing would have been to leave you out of this. Until this whole thing blew over.”
“You act like this battle to death is just an inconvenience for you. I feel like I'm on a date in the middle of a war zone. And as a special treat, I get to carry the ammo,” said Britt.
Rice didn't know what to say. He just looked at her. She had held up remarkably well. Her ER training clearly came in handy, but there was something else. She was there for him, and he wasn't sure why.
He wanted to tell her she could just drop the gun and walk away. But that would be a lie. His enemies knew he valued her. So they would try to take advantage. He didn't even want to think about the ramifications. Now, more than ever, he had a duty to protect her.
Rice kissed her gently on the cheek. It was unexpected. She stood there motionless, not sure what was coming next, just looking at him.
“That's all? I gave an Academy Performance, and I just get a peck…”
Rice took Britt's chin in her hand and kissed her hard. His lips on her cheek before - that was simply a kiss of appreciation. A thank you. He was sealing the deal. Pledging he would protect her as long as he was able.
This kiss, on the other hand, was about drinking her in. This kiss was for him.
Chapter 101
Indian Creek, Indiana
“WHICH CLOUD?” SCREAMED KREEGAR. “Which fucking cloud?”
“Does it matter?” asked Trent, holding the sat phone away from his ear.
“Of course, it fucking matters!” said Kreegar. “Clouds can be hacked. But I need to know which cloud to hack.”
Trent felt himself grinding his teeth so hard his jaw ached. Then he crashed over a ridge in the Rover, going fast enough to chip a tooth. He figured he was about half a mile from the location of the satellite phone that Britt had commandeered.
“How do I find out which cloud? I'm no hacker.”
“Then capture him. Torture is as old as dirt, but it works. And that's why it’s stayed in fashion. We'll beat it out of him.”
“Can you give me any background on Operation Kindergarten?” asked Trent.
“No! And don't ask me again.”
“So end the kill-on-sight order?”
“For now. He could be lying his ass off, but I can't take the risk,” said Kreegar.
“And the woman?”
“Why are you even asking me that question? Do what you need to do. And I'm assuming you're using encryption on all these calls. I don't want my voice to turn up on Wiki-leaks a year from now.”
“SOP, Mr. Kreegar.”
“Call me back when you have him.”
Trent dropped the phone into one of the cup-holders in the center console and slowed his SUV down. The road was ending ahead. He could see the baby Hummer left there by the two men covering the forest wrapped around the nature reserve. Two more bodies to clean up before the local Sheriff’s office stumbled across them.
Trent picked up the sat phone again and hit the speed dial connecting him with his brother. There was still no answer. Something had to have gone terribly wrong. Brent was with the helicopter, playing gunner as usual - his favorite thing - chewing up the landscape with a monster machine gun. He was the only one on their team with experience on a Black Hawk, so he was the natural choice. Trent had assumed it was a safe place for him, up in the sky and away from the ex-black ops agent with the impressive kill count. Trent hoped it was a communication problem. But something told him it wasn't.
CHAPTER 102
Indian Creek
, Indiana
RICE STEPPED OUT OF THE TREELINE, into the open field, alone. He had the AK-47 raised, the safety off. Any soldier who was watching knew he was ready to fight to the death. And he had his reputation. He knew the members of Razer's death squad had heard the stories.
All he could see was Trent, standing by his Range Rover, a dark baseball cap squeezed down over his eyes. He had both hands on the hood, no gun in evidence, his shoulders tense. Which didn't mean anything. Razer was a soldier like him. Trained, no doubt, by the Navy Seals. Now working contract for Kreegar. But kept in the dark.
“You work for the biggest prick in the Continental United States,” Rice called to him.
“Tell me something I don't know,” said Trent.
“You don't know you're on the wrong side.”
Trent crossed his arms. “You mean the side you used to be on.”
“I didn't change sides. Kreegar did.”
Trent just shrugged, tired of the word play. He probably believed politics was for weasels. Rice was pretty sure Razer saw himself as a wolf - or some other Alpha predator, who reported to even deadlier beasts of prey. None of it mattered anyway. What mattered were just bullets and bank accounts. Everything else was just sugar frosting and horseshit.
“You ditch the broad already?” asked Trent, loud so everyone could hear, being provocative. Rice set his teeth. Where were the others? Still in the trees or behind the trucks?
“Here's the deal again,” said Rice. “I meet Kreegar Sunday at noon in D.C. Just him and I. I'll send you the coordinates later. Meanwhile, you take your team and bug out.”
