Chapter 29
Friendly Capture
Harrison was lost in thought over Hannah when an unknown government agent approached him. The agent was unaware of Harrison’s credentials. She brought her rifle to bear on her unidentified colleague and said in a menacing voice, “Don’t try anything and you might still be alive in five seconds!” Harrison offered no argument and raised slowly his hands as he eyed the barrel of the rifle several feet away. After all, he had no identification and was dressed as the enemy. The youngish agent would believe nothing he would say. Senior agents at their field headquarters would identify Harrison. Until then, he planned to remain calm and follow orders. He did not offer that Hawthorne lay dead in the tank or that documents lay buried attesting to the scope of the conspiracy, but would soon convey that information to the agent in charge.
The government agent ordered Harrison to keep up his hands and walk in front of her. The agent motioned him away from the smoldering ranch house and toward the outer perimeter of the ranch property. Harrison offered, “You do know that there are trip wires and land mines scattered about, don’t you?” The young agent swallowed hard and commanded, “Keep your mouth shut!” Despite the agent’s surface coolness, Harrison glanced at the woman and observed her looking about. A childish grin came across Harrison’s face as if just pulled a boyish prank.
The two agents, apparent enemies on the surface, were in truth colleagues. Harrison was relieved that the physical battle had ended although he knew that the debate of ideologies would continue to divide his country. For his part, Harrison was overjoyed to learn of the safety of the President of the United States. He was uncertain as to why Mentor concealed the true identity of the President—that is, the President was indeed the Software, the real Elizabeth Ashton, not her mirror self, a.k.a. Marilyn Hawthorne. Yet, Harrison knew from experience not to question Mentor’s judgment in such matters as his reasoning was usually justified. He was not going to debate such issues now. Harrison just wanted to rest and rejoin his fiancée—to hold Hannah safely in his arms, to feel her warmth, to see her smile…
Harrison continued to walk ahead of his ‘captor’ with his hands raised. The agent behind him trained her rifle as he himself was instructed. They continued their steady pace in the heat for what Harrison estimated was thirty minutes. As they approached the perimeter of the late Jacob Hawthorne’s ranch property, Harrison gazed upon the camp of the federal agents. He noted a number of helicopters and army jeeps. Harrison, still with a rifle at his back, was directed toward a tent that was used for processing the insurgents. Next to the tent was a prison-like structure created hastily from fencing and barbwire.
Harrison strained his eyes in the hope of finding someone who knew his identity. The thought of being imprisoned with the terrorists did not appeal to him. Harrison knew that one of the insurgents was bound to recognize him and then he would be unrecognizable following their brutal and perhaps fatal beating. The agent guarding Harrison ordered him to stop at the entrance to the tent. The guard at the tent and Harrison’s ‘escort’ saluted each other. They were then ushered into the tent and found themselves facing the commander of operations, Nathan Zachary, codename Ops. All of a sudden Harrison felt like smiling as he greeted the commander, “Nathan! Thank God there’s somebody here who knows me.” Harrison reached out to grasp the extended hand of Ops who greeted Harrison in return: “Harrison! Good to see you. We weren’t sure of your condition or even if you were alive. We’ve been searching for you since we’ve arrived here. Mentor was very specific about that.” Then, the friendly commander spoke to Harrison’s ‘escort:’ “You can put that rifle down, Williams. He’s one of us actually.” The female agent guarding Harrison blushed and apologized needlessly as she lowered her rifle for the first time. Ops introduced the two strangers: “Harrison, meet your ‘captor,’ Toni Williams. Ms. Williams, this is Harrison Rossetti.” The two strangers shook hands as friends. Williams then excused herself and left the tent.
Ops smiled and said, “She’s a good agent. I should give her an immediate promotion if she kept you at bay all this time!” The men permitted a laugh between them. Harrison attempted to defend his honor: “I just played along so I wouldn’t get shot!” The men laughed again. Harrison continued, “On a more serious note, you’ll find Jacob Hawthorne dead in a tank on the very spot where agent Williams ‘captured’ me. You’ll pass a barn on the way to the tank and find quite a huge arsenal of explosives and munitions, including numerous tanks. You may also find the body of one of his wives, Marilyn Hawthorne—a dead ringer for Elizabeth Ashton. I first discovered her body in the cellar of the ranch house, but it was not there when I returned to the house to destroy its use as a fortress for the insurgents.” Ops interrupted, “A nice piece of work. You saved a number of lives with that one.” Harrison thanked Ops and continued, “You’ll find another one of Hawthorne’s wives, Mary Lou Hawthorne, in the basement of an old dilapidated structure about thirty miles south of town. She was also brutally murdered by Hawthorne’s command. She was able to direct me to the ranch and provide some background information before I watched her die slowly in anguish.” Harrison looked down sickened by the past image of Mary Lou’s unmerciful death. He continued, “I was terribly relieved when Mentor told me that it was not Elizabeth Ashton who lay dead.”
Harrison shuddered as he was visibly shaken by the events and images of the past few days. He was surrounded by death and destruction, but very much wanted life and future—a future with Hannah. Harrison desired Hannah now—Oh, God, how he wished she was in his arms. How Harrison wanted to forget the struggle…How he wanted to cling to life…How his senses desired to reach out and touch softness, to see beauty, to smell her sweet fragrance, to hear the voice that calmed him.
Suddenly, Harrison’s stream of thoughts was interrupted by the call of his name. It was Ops who was trying to intrude upon Harrison. The invasion was sufficient as Harrison raised his head and looked at the concerned man. He then spoke, “I’m sorry, Ops. I was somewhere else.” “With Hannah?” queried Ops with a knowing smile. Ops continued, “Mentor left very specific instructions on how to get you back to Washington. Your ‘captor,’ agent Williams, will drive you back to Great Falls which will give you about three hours of rest and sleep. Target One will be refueled and ready for your flight back to Washington. Mentor will conduct the debriefing and let you in on a surprise.” Normally, the thought of a surprise enticed Harrison, but he was too tired right now to consider the prospects. Ops suggested that Harrison rest while he made arrangements for his trip back to Great Falls and Target One. Harrison countered, “As much I want to Ops, I took some important documents from Hawthorne’s safe before the ranch house exploded. I buried them nearby and must retrieve them for Mentor.” “No problem,” returned Ops. He ordered a jeep for Hardware to retrieve the papers.
Chapter 30
Briefing and Debriefing
Harrison retrieved Hawthorne’s documents and laid down for some sleep. His catnap was interrupted by a familiar feminine voice. For a moment, it sounded like Hannah as his mind wandered in the twilight haze between sleep and consciousness. The voice was persistent and becoming clearer. “Mr. Rossetti! Mr. Rossetti!” Harrison opened his eyes to find agent Williams softly shaking him. “Mr. Rossetti! Mr. Rossetti!” continued her voice. Harrison breached the border into consciousness and focused on the person attached to the voice. “Mr. Rossetti! The chopper is fueled and checked out for flight. We’re ready to fly to Great Falls.”
Harrison struggled to raise himself and wiped his face as if to brush the sleep from his eyes. “Fly?” inquired Harrison. “Yes, sir” replied Williams. She continued, “We were going to drive, but direct orders from the President are to get you back to Target One and Washington by the quickest route available.” Harrison shook his head in acknowledgment and gazed at the beauty of Williams. She, in part, reminded him of Hannah and that pleased him.
Harrison and his colleague left the tent and h
eaded for the area consigned to the copters. There were three helicopters ready for flight. The combined noise of the rotating blades was deafening. The two agents found themselves shouting at each other in order to communicate. Harrison was given a flight helmet as he climbed into the lead chopper. Agent Williams entered the craft and buckled herself in for the flight. The noise level faded somewhat as the helicopter’s doors were closed. Agent Williams turned toward Harrison and offered, “You’d better get some sleep, sir. We will be in Great Falls in about ninety minutes. Unfortunately, this will cut your sleeping time in half.” A tired Harrison nodded and positioned himself for sleep.
The copter rose vertically and then headed south for the flight to Great Falls, Montana. Although Harrison thought he might not be able to sleep, the steady hum of the copter blades created ‘white noise’ and blocked out other annoying sounds. His tiredness pushed him to sleep within several minutes. Agent Williams glanced at her retired passenger and smiled.
The flight to Great Falls was void of surprises—something that Harrison would have appreciated if he were awake. Agent Williams landed the craft next to the hangar protecting Target One at Malmstrom Air Force Base. The sounds of the electrical instruments and her transactions with the control tower did not disturb Harrison’s stream of unconsciousness. The blades of the chopper began whining as their rotations were slowed by friction. Agent Williams initiated her shut down procedures “by the book.” She calculated that if she followed them “by the book,” she bought Harrison fifteen more minutes of sleep before he had to assume the role of pilot for his trip back to D.C. aboard Target One.
Williams noted that it took seventeen minutes to shut down “by the book.” She leaned over to Harrison and gently shook him, a role to which she had become accustomed. She called out his name: “Mr. Rossetti! Mr. Rossetti!” Harrison awoke abruptly and readily assumed a defensive position not realizing that he was safely tucked within the chopper’s casing. He heard a female voice plead: “It’s OK sir. We’re back in Great Falls.” Harrison regained his footing in consciousness and acknowledged Agent Williams.
The two agents stepped out of the helicopter. Harrison thanked Toni Williams and apologized for his boring demeanor. He walked toward the hangar that housed Target One. He greeted the officer in charge and proceeded aboard the jet. Harrison decided that a quick shower and change of clothing were in order. He sensed he was a bit gamy. Well, actually, a whole lot gamy—given the circumstances of the past forty-eight hours. Harrison stepped into the shower, a pleasurable convenience on Target One, and sighed as the water stream droplets bounced off his chest providing a warm, healing massage. His mind drifted to the times Hannah and he had spent together in showers around the world. The recurring fantasy was an erotic one for Harrison although lacking in intensity with the absence of Hannah. He permitted his consciousness to drift as the steamy stream beaded his naked body. Harrison leaned against the shower wall for support and relaxation. Time passed without notice. “Damn!” uttered Harrison as the warm water turned cold. He quickly finished his shower and toweled himself dry. He dressed in suitable clothing knowing that he would be briefed and debriefed by Mentor and perhaps President Ashton back in Washington.
Harrison finished dressing and went into his office. He faxed a message to Mentor that he will take off shortly with his ETA set at 10:00 P.M. Washington time. Harrison then attempted to contact Hannah in Rome, but was truly disappointed that there was no response. He was looking forward to her infectious smile…her sultry voice…her exciting touch…the physical and emotional presence that she brought to their relationship.
On that note, Harrison smiled and brought Target One’s engines on line. He went through the pre-flight checklist and began taxiing to the airstrip. “Target One to control tower. Target One to control. Taxiing to runway 290. Over.” There was a brief pause before the tower responded: “This is the control tower, Target One. You are clear for taxiing.” Harrison steered his jet to the runway and proceeded to turn the plane for takeoff into the wind. Harrison halted the craft and examined his instrument readings before radioing the tower: “Target One to control. Target One to control. Permission to leave Malmstrom A.F.B. and Great Falls, Montana.” “Roger that, Target One” replied control. “Visit again and God’s speed.” “Thank you” replied Harrison. “Target One out.” He throttled the engines to a high-pitched whine sending Target One accelerating down the runway. The jet lifted off at which point Harrison sighed with relief. As Target One gained altitude, he altered course and headed easterly toward Washington, D.C.
Harrison engaged the autopilot once Target One’s heading was corrected and it was flying at the designated altitude. He pushed his body back into the pilot’s seat using ‘feet’ power and stretched his arms as high as the cockpit cabin permitted. Harrison let out a big yawn, but reminded himself that he recently had a catnap.
The flight to Washington was uneventful—something that Harrison has appreciated more and more through the years. Within three hours, Harrison landed at Dulles Air Force Base as ordered. He was told that a limousine would be sent to take him directly to the White House. Harrison taxied to the hangar designated by the tower. He guided Target One into the sheltered structure as directed by the hand waving ground crew. Harrison brought the jet to a stop and powered down the engines. He quickly left the cockpit, foregoing the shut down checklist, and debarked the plane.
Harrison no sooner left Target One when a limousine drove up to the hangar and stopped to the side of him. The driver walked to the passenger side and opened the rear door for him. To Harrison’s pleasant surprise, Mentor extended his hand as he stepped into the limousine. His friend and supervisor spoke. first: “Congratulations, Harrison. Your mission was a success. On a more personal note, I'm glad to see that your safe and apparently all in one piece. Welcome home.” Greg and Harrison allowed themselves a personal moment as each firmly shook hands and smiled broadly while maintaining eye contact. Their professional survival permitted them to enjoy their lasting friendship.
Hardware handed to Mentor the documents that he secured from Hawthorne’s safe. Mentor thanked his agent and commented, “These should be quite damaging to the conspirators.” Mentor paused and spoke again, “Harrison, I know you’re tired. However, I also know you have many questions and we also need some answers. We are headed for the White House where we will meet with the President to brief and debrief you.” “I understand, Greg” was Harrison’s brief reply. He wanted to say more, but he was indeed tired and had not debriefed himself of the past days’ events and their significance. Harrison closed his eyes and leaned his head back deeply in the seat. Mentor allowed his agent his space for now knowing that the debriefing would be long and arduous. The two men sat quietly for the remainder of the trip. Mentor too decided to allow himself some shallow sleep as he lay back into the seat.
The trip understandably seemed long for both men who had exercised their minds and bodies to their limits and beyond. They would not sleep now, but at the very least they could rest their eyes and perhaps their thoughts. Images would be fleeting and not be allowed to remain long in consciousness. Their briefing and debriefing would come soon enough. For Harrison, it would provide him the opportunity to learn the clandestine background aspects of the mission as well as relive the events of the past forty-eight hours.
The trip to the White House was uneventful. It just seemed terribly long. The limousine reached its destination carrying its important passengers. As the car drove up to a side entrance, the two men stirred and tried to wipe the tiredness from their bodies. They stretched at the allowable limits given the confines of the limousine. Harrison was first to leave the car followed closely by Mentor.
The two tired men entered the White House and presented their credentials to the guard on duty. Mentor and Hardware took the elevator to the second floor. Mentor motioned Hardware into the conference room. Hardware entered the room to find President Elizabeth Ashton sitting at the conference ta
ble wading through report papers. The President turned around at the opening of the door as Harrison spoke with a smile: “The real President Elizabeth Ashton, I presume.” “Hello, Harrison,” greeted the President. “Welcome home,” she said warmly.
The two men sat down at the table opposite President Ashton. Mentor greeted the President and started the formal proceedings: “Well, I wasn’t sure at times that this moment would ever come, but I’m glad we’re finally together. The past several days crawled like months and were intense for each of us during the course of this mission. But the success of this mission, largely through Harrison’s efforts, has helped to preserve the democracy of the United States and the office of the Presidency. And whatever the terrorists’ ‘main target’ plan that was scheduled for implementation tomorrow, it is now neutralized by our infiltration of the militant faction.”
“I want to echo my sincere congratulations as well, Harrison, on your successful mission” added President Ashton. “On a more personal note,” she continued, “I want to thank you both for carrying out your duty to your government. I apologize, Harrison, for keeping you in the dark about my reported ‘kidnapping.”
Harrison offered, “There is no need to apologize, Madam President. I learned a long time ago not to question Greg’s judgment in these matters.” Harrison looked at Greg and raised his eyebrows to underscore his statement, as was his manner. He continued, “You can’t imagine how I felt when I discovered your body, er, the corpse of Marilyn Hawthorne and then have Greg wipe away my shock, grief and loss with his revelation that you were still among the living.”
Mentor interrupted, “We’re sorry, Harrison, but security and success of the mission depended on secrecy.” Mentor paused briefly and then continued, “Let me lay it out for you, Harrison. An attempt to kidnap President Ashton did happen in Helena, Montana. She was attending a day conference and evening fundraiser. It was only fate that kept the President from being kidnapped and assassinated. Software and her personal bodyguard, Agent Jack Roberts, returned to the President’s suite to pack for the trip back to Washington, D.C. that evening. Agent Roberts felt ill most of that fateful day. He requested to be excused for a moment to relieve himself in the restroom. Unknown to Software or her agent, the mirror president, a.k.a., Marilyn Hawthorne and her personal guard were making their way to the Presidential suite. It must have been relatively easy for the aliases to pass through security with her mirror image of Software.”
Mirror, Mirror at 1600 D.C. Page 21
