“It does sound like gibberish, doesn’t it,” Max laughed.
“Listen, little American,” Cian made his Irish accent thick. “We’re speaking Irish Gaelic. The language of the gods.”
“Gods?” John’s eyebrows shot up. He and Max laughed.
“Do you see any gods here?” Wyatt asked. “Because I just see four regular guys.”
“I really like this guy,” Cian said in Irish Gaelic to Max.
“Fuck you,” Wyatt said.
Cian laughed.
“I solemnly agree to speak only American for the rest of the morning,” Cian raised his hand to take a solemn oath. “Johnny?”
John raised his hand and Max followed suit.
“We solemnly swear to speak only American,” Cian said. John and Max repeated. “That means none of that Queen’s English, Johnny.”
“Whatever you say mate,” John said.
“Watch it,” Cian said. John laughed.
“The issue was over whether Santa’s feet were as large as mine,” John said.
“Yes, I can see that’s a God-like problem.” Smiling, Wyatt shook his head at their ridiculousness.
“God! Why are my feet so ridiculously small?” Max implored the heavens.
They laughed.
“I’ll settle this,” Wyatt said. “Are you all right with that?”
Max and John nodded.
“Go ahead, Cian,” Wyatt said. “I don’t think Santa could get those feet into his sleigh. In fact, they might be the sleigh runners.”
Laughing, Max and John went into the kitchen to get the supplies. Cian put on his winter boots. They met back in Max’s sitting room. Max set down the cookie sheet near the fireplace. John poured the glitter and corn starch mixture into the pan. Wyatt helped Cian step into the tray. Cian took a step forward then stepped into the pan. He left a white glitter footprint on the wood floor. He wandered around the room and sat down near the front door to remove his boots. He’d taken off his first boot when there was a knock at the door.
Cian opened the door and peered out.
“What the hell are you doing here?” Cian said in Irish Gaelic.
“It’s been less than an hour? What the hell?” Wyatt started. His eyes flicked at Cian then John. John moved to Cian’s side. Max walked to Wyatt.
“You should leave,” Max said.
“I’m not…” Wyatt said.
“NO!” Cian yelled.
John threw himself against the door. There was resistance but the door closed. Cian and John fell to the floor and covered their heads. Max dragged Wyatt down. Cian raised his fingers to his lips. He pressed his head against the door.
“There are a bunch of men standing outside the house,” Samantha said when she entered the room. Cian shushed her.
“I guess you knew that,” she whispered.
Max grabbed her arm and pulled her down. A fist pounded on the door.
“I know you’re in there,” a man’s voice said in Irish Gaelic.
“Who is it?” Samantha whispered.
“IRA has come for us,” Cian said.
“There’s not a chance in hell they’re going to take you,” Wyatt said.
Surprised, John, Cian, Max and Samantha looked at Wyatt.
A fist pounded on the door.
FFFFFF
Friday morning
December 25 – 4:27 a.m. MST
Grand Forks Air Force Base, ND
Standing on the tarmac in the middle of North Dakota, Alex looked out across the men and women milling around her and her team. Jesse appeared at her side.
“It’s like a SF training reunion,” Jesse said. “Look there’s JS. Didn’t you tell me he’s a big deal now? Look at him order that Delta team around!”
Alex nodded.
“Holy crap!” Matthew yelled. He ran forward to greet another one of their friends from SF training. They were the largest group graduate and had graduated with the highest scores. When asked later, most of the men said they’d worked harder because they didn’t want to see a woman succeed where they couldn’t. No one mentioned the fact that Alex had coached them through every single day. “Troy, check it out! It’s Garcia.”
“I heard you guys were working with the enemy,” Captain Enrique Garcia said. He held out his arms and Alex hugged him.
“Wow, you’re hugging Garcia?” Jess asked. “Need a shower?”
Alex blinked in agreement.
“I was really sorry to hear about Jesse,” Garcia said.
“Sorry he didn’t shoot me himself,” Jesse said.
“Losing Jesse is very hard,” Alex said.
“He was really the best of us,” Garcia said.
Jesse made a ball of energy to throw at him. Enrique had filed a number of grievances against Alex while they were in training. He did not like training with a woman. He did not like the fact that the woman had a friend. And more than anything, he didn’t like that she was better than he was. Alex gave a slight shake of her head to encourage Jesse not to throw the energy ball at their once arch nemesis. Jesse laughed.
“I didn’t realize you were stationed out here,” Matthew said.
“Training,” Garcia said. “Did you hear about JS?”
“The man’s General material,” Troy said.
Alex looked across the men to Lieutenant Colonel Jason Smith. Besides Jesse, he was one of her only defenders in training. His father had been a Freedom Rider and JS did not tolerate prejudice in any form. He’d gone on to make sure their abusive Captain was court-martialed. He cleaned up every division he was in until it was apparent to Army brass that he should lead. He waved to Alex and she smiled.
“Why is everyone here?” Jesse asked.
“I guess we’re all a little war amped and holiday stir crazy,” Garcia said as if he’d heard Jesse’s question.
“I guess,” Alex said.
“What are we waiting for?” Garcia asked.
Alex’s eyes slid over to look at him. His voiced edged into his “dominating the weak” territory. Troy walked to stand next to Alex.
“We’re waiting for intel from the 91st Maintenance Group,” Joseph shifted slightly in front of Alex to deal with Garcia.
“Surely you have satellite imaging,” Garcia said. Alex raised her eyebrows at him and counted to five. She’d just hit five when he continued, “You intelligence people are too finicky. We need to go in there, get our men, and get on with this day. And don’t start on loss of lives. No one captures US soldiers and gets away with it.”
“Would you excuse me for a moment?” Alex asked.
She was ten feet away when Garcia launched into his usual rant about intelligence officers. She was a foot from where Vince and Raz were working when she heard Garcia yelp. Jesse must have hit him with an energy ball.
“That looked like it hurt,” Raz said. Alex smiled. “What’s the plan?”
“We have intel?”
“No entrance in or out,” Raz said. “The site has been demolished per protocol.”
“Did they find…” Alex swallowed hard.
“No body parts,” Vince said. “They went through the site foot by foot. The weather’s bad, so they could have missed something but I doubt it.”
The Fey team began to gather around them to hear the details from the maintenance team.
“As you know, I’ve been watching the heat readings all day,” Raz said. “Dusty dug up some old readings for this area.”
“Old?”
“June,” Raz said.
“And?”
“There’s a definite change in the reading,” Raz said. “I’ve been tracking the maintenance group’s movements to compare. I’m pretty sure the hostages are there.”
“Pretty sure?” Joseph asked from over her shoulder.
“Eighty percent.”
“What’s the uncertainty?” Joseph asked.
“The readings are odd,” Raz said. “As you know, I have a bit of skill with these types of readings, even underground
. But these readings are unusual.”
“How so?” Alex asked.
“The heat readings here are clumped together, not individual bodies,” Raz said.
“Why are we able to see anything through the lead shielding?” Matthew asked.
Raz nodded to Alex.
“I think the soldiers rigged up something to get the data to us,” Alex said. “It’s something Larry would think of.”
“We believe the reading we’re getting is coming through the destroyed silo,” Raz said.
“Which means they’re within the launch facility,” Joseph said.
Alex nodded.
“How do we get to them?” Matthew asked.
“How did they get in?” Alex asked. “We confirmed the elevator’s destruction with the maintenance group. They’re not one hundred percent sure because these silos are different from the one’s they usually work with.”
“They work with reconfigured Minuteman II facilities,” Sergeant Dusty said. “I know a guy who worked in this field. He should be here in a minute or two.”
“We’re hoping he’ll know,” Alex said. “Leena, you and Margaret were going to look into the backgrounds of Larry’s team.”
“I researched the team members’ military history,” Leena said. “Margaret thinks she found something.”
“I talked to their families,” Margaret said. “One of Larry’s teammates has a best friend who was an Air Force brat. His family spent some time in Grand Forks. I need to confirm this with his father but they don’t seem to be home.”
“Sergeant?” Alex asked. “Can you help Margaret find the family in question?”
Sergeant Dusty nodded to Margaret. She went with him.
“That would make sense,” Raz said. “If one of the team members knew something about the launch facilities, they could figure a way out. Could Larry have turned his own GPS signal off?”
“Sure. I told him how to do it when we were ordered to shut it off,” Alex said. “But why would he do that?”
“Impossible situation,” Matthew said. “Monitored in some way so they would know he had it. Remember he was around when your arm got sliced open for one of those things.”
“And almost a year of sepsis,” Troy said.
Alex nodded. She noticed a man in his sixties enter the tarmac. He wore a US Air Force cap and a bushy white mustache. He stopped to talk to a young woman near him. The US Air Force Sergeant escorted him toward the Chinook.
“Sergeant?” Alex asked. “I think your guy is here.”
Sergeant Dusty looked up from where he was working with Margaret. His face lit up and he ran to the man. The man clasped him in a hug. Laughing, they made their way back to the Chinook.
“Lieutenant Colonel Hargreaves, this is my Uncle Don,” Sergeant Dusty said. “Uncle Don used to work maintenance in this field.”
“Master Sergeant Donald Cummings, ma’am, US Air Force, retired,” he said. “You can call me, Don.”
“Alex,” she said. “You may call me Alex but most people refer to me as sir.”
“Good to know,” Don said. “Say, you wouldn’t happen to be related to General Hargreaves?”
“My father,” Alex said.
“Then it is a pleasure to meet you,” Don said. A cold blast of wind hit them. “You know there’s a blizzard coming in?”
“We’ve been a little stuck,” Alex said. “We believe a team of missing US Army soldiers is being held captive on the H-flight, specifically H-29. My Sergeant tells me you have some experience with this field. With your help, we hope to get the men and get out before the real snow starts.”
“H-29?” Don nodded.
“You don’t seem surprised,” Alex said. “I thought the sites were decommissioned.”
“They hired contractors,” Don said. “I’m sure they did a thorough job most of the time. But they had to drill holes in the concrete and steel, fill the holes with explosive and then light the thing. It is tough work in the best of circumstances. I’m not surprised that they didn’t drill as many holes in some of the facilities.”
“Was there word they weren’t being thorough at the time?” Alex asked.
“Know any people?” Don asked. “Seems like some people are always cutting corners. Sure, we thought they might not be doing their job. But who would ever know? Plus, H-29 is in the middle of nowhere. I doubt anyone has been there since it was decommissioned in ’98. And when I say anyone, I mean not a single soul.”
“Agent Rasmussen, sir, Homeland Security,” Raz said. “We’re not sure how anyone could have gotten into the facility.”
“The silos were destroyed. I checked that myself,” Don said. “How much do you know about these launch facilities?”
“We have diagrams,” Royce said. “Chief Petty Officer Tubman, sir.”
“Then you know the silos are long tubes and the LEBs are just off them,” Royce said.
“LEB?” Raz asked.
“Launch Equipment Building,” Don said. “They were oval-shaped steel covered in concrete. Kind of like a hollow, concrete covered steel jelly bean. These missiles were launched remotely at Launch Control Centers. The LEB was a room for equipment, computers, generators, climate control,…”
“Generators?” Alex asked. “Climate control?”
“Sure,” Don said. “You probably know the current active fields are reconfigured Minuteman II facilities. The big difference is the Minuteman III facilities have a large LEB for the generators.”
“How long could the generators work?” Alex asked.
“Three days? Four?” Don said. “Maybe more. You’d have to know how to work a generator. Who’s down there?”
“Special Forces team,” Alex said. “Green Berets.”
“They’d know how to work the generator,” Don said. “Of course, all of the equipment was supposed to be taken out of the LEB before they were destroyed.”
“Supposed?” Alex asked.
“Ever seen the Air Force’s accounting system?” Don asked. “They’re never sure how many missiles they have. You think they’d keep track of some generators in the middle of nowhere North Dakota?”
“We think the men are enhancing a GPS signal,” Raz said.
“The Launch Facilities had antennas,” Don said. “If someone knew what they were doing, and the antenna survived, they could hook up the antenna.”
“Could the antenna have survived?” Alex asked.
“Who knows?” Don shrugged. “We won’t know until we get there.”
“We?” Raz asked.
“Sir,” Margaret yelled.
Alex looked up at her.
“Larry’s teammate won his six grade science fair with a mock missile silo for a science project,” Margaret said.
“Sounds like it’s time to go,” Don said.
Alex made a motion with her hand and the team boarded the Chinook. On Joseph’s order, the Delta team loaded in behind them. Alex left the rest of their growing security escort with orders to remain ready and on-base until the situation had been evaluated.
“Let’s do this thing,” Matthew yelled.
F
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
Friday morning
December 25 – 4:27 a.m. MST
Denver, CO
“Cian!” a man’s voice came from below the kitchen window.
They had retreated to the communal kitchen to decide what to do next. Agitated from hiding out, Cian set to work on pastries for Christmas breakfast.
“That sounds like your redheaded friend,” Wyatt said. “The one who giggles like a girl.”
“Like a girl?” Cian sneered at Wyatt.
“Come on, Cian, you know he does,” John imitated Eoin’s girlish giggle. The men laughed.
“Just not something one wants to hear about their best mate,” Cian sniffed.
“Cian!” the voice said again.
“A best mate you’re leaving out in the cold,” John walked to the window.
“Could be an
yone,” Cian said.
John leaned out over the counter to look down at the walkway below. Eoin waved at him. John pointed to the back door.
“It’s Eoin, Delilah, and the baby,” John said.
“He must have been bought out,” Cian said.
“Really?” Wyatt asked. “Your best friend is here because he was bought out? On Christmas?”
“You have no idea the kind of pressure…” Cian said. John went to open the back door. “What are you doing?”
“Putting my life in my own hands,” John went through the milk porch to let Eoin, his wife and newborn in. “Happy Christmas.”
“And a Happy Christmas it is!” Eoin said.
“If you kill my brother…” Cian stormed onto the milk porch.
Eoin’s wife, Delilah, hugged him.
“Merry Christmas, Cian,” Delilah said. “Thank you for opening your home to us.”
Confused, Cian looked at Eoin over Delilah’s shoulders.
“You’ve got troubles, mate,” Eoin said. “And it’s not the flesh and blood you’re freezing on the front porch.”
“What’s going on?” Wyatt asked.
“That computer guy has Alex off on some hopeless wild goose-chase so he can…” Eoin’s eyes shifted to Delilah. “…entertain the team’s families. Destroy the root on Christmas or something like that.”
“He means he’s going to kill us,” Delilah said. “Eoin said the safest place for us was here at your house. We came right after he got the call.”
“And the Kellys outside?” John asked.
“They’re here to protect you,” Eoin said. “But you’d better let them in before they freeze. We Irish are tough but we’re not known for our frost hardiness.”
Max gave Eoin a long look before jogging to Alex’s front door. Delilah moved into the house where she introduced herself to Wyatt.
“Jimmy’s with Rita and Tom,” Eoin said. “You can call him. Do you have a way to call the Fey gals?”
“Phone tree,” John said.
“Good,” Eoin said. “He’s coming for everyone at dawn.”
“We’ll bring them here,” John said. “The house can withstand almost anything.”
“Good thinking,” Eoin said.
“Why did you come?” Still unsure if Eoin was bought out, Cian gave him a hard look.
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