ZAP Agent Mathis

by C. R. Daems

  The gym looked like a typical exercise-mill setup, designed to handle large crowds with hundreds of pieces of exercise equipment. I paid twenty dollars for a guest membership to avoid the hassle of explaining my function. I stopped all the attempts to develop an exercise program for me by saying I was only there to watch Mr. Whitcome exercise. He worked out on the treadmill, then lifted some weights, and finished it off on a bike. I positioned myself where I could watch him and the door. Whoever was targeting him appeared to know his routine. This had been a carefully planned assault on a route he took regularly. We caught a cab back to his condo complex and encountered no trouble.

  "The workout was a good idea, although I didn't think so at the time. It helped calm my nerves. Do you want to eat in or out?" He smiled. "The way you treat food, I don't imagine you care."

  "Consider me your shadow and do whatever is normal or grabs you. On second thought, it may be well to ignore things you do consistently at certain times or days." I grinned.

  Just then Whitcome's phone rang.

  "I'm fine. Kate didn't feel like talking to the police, so we left," he snorted a laugh. "Sure ... I can drive." He hung up, frowning. "Director Gammon wants to see us. He wanted to send a car but I told him it wasn't necessary. You agree?"

  "Yep. Your greatest exposure is going to and coming from a car. So the exposure would be the same. Just more bodies in the way when the shooting starts." I hoped the fun for today was over and the bad guys had had enough for one day—actually I hoped they were in the morgue and they didn't have any friends. I’d had my adrenaline fix for the day.

  We had no trouble on the way to Gammon's office and were ushered right in. Gammon had obviously cleared his schedule for Eddie.

  "You alright, Eddie?" he asked, giving him a quick hug.

  "Except for the bruises on my ass where Kate dumped me when they began firing." He laughed. "She has no respect for age."

  "I had my doubts about using ZAP agents, but I had run out of options. Sit." He waved to the two empty chairs. I shook my head and stepped back against the wall. "The police found the car several miles away near the Aspen apartments. One man lay dead in the back seat with an assault rifle on the floor. He had been shot in the head and chest. The driver was also dead. They believe he bled to death from two bullet wounds, one in the neck and one in the shoulder."

  Gammon stood looking at me while he talked. "We've identified them based on paperwork in the vehicle. They were American citizens and lived in the Aspen complex. Our preliminary search of the apartment has discovered a lot of al-Qaeda, Islamic State, and IS literature and articles on our enhanced interrogation program. The ISIS material called for retribution and listed you as well as Thomas and Chuck. We found personal information on each of you: home address, routines, type of car, people and places you regularly visit."

  "So they have been tracking us for a while," Eddie said nodding. "I missed my workout yesterday because of our meeting. I wonder if they were there waiting yesterday?"

  When the phone on the director's conference table rang, he answered, nodded, and put the phone on speaker. "Director Liang, I have Mr. Whitcome and Agent Mathis here."

  "I understand you had some excitement," Liang said, concern evident in her tone. "Kate, what happened?"

  "An assassination attempt with something short like a Colt CAR15 or XM-177."

  "Was anyone hurt? Bystanders?"

  "No one unless you count the building behind us. It's going to need reconstructive surgery," I blurted. Couldn't help it. I still felt like the Energizer Bunny with new batteries.

  "She's right," Eddie interjected with a wry grin. "They got off over thirty rounds. Kate is very fast and a good shot." He grinned at me. Gammon went on to explain what they had discovered to date. When they finished, Liang spoke.

  "Kate, Agent Brock was shot in the back today while on vacation in San Francisco. We aren't sure why, but it doesn't seem like a drive-by shooting. It appears intentional and could be related to one of his assignments. I'll keep you updated." She cut the connection before I could comment. There was a bit of irony if Liang was right—revenge on the ZAP agent for protecting a VIP. Not to mention having to worry about protecting ourselves when not on assignment.

  "A friend?" Gammon asked.

  "I knew him well, a comrade. He was one of the three other graduates of the first program. Last year, we trained together every day." It didn't feel random.

  Gammon decided I should stay until they could definitely determine the two had been acting alone and not in concert with others, or if they had friends who might consider seeking revenge. I stayed four more weeks while the FBI investigated the two men's families, friends, and acquaintances. In the end, they concluded the two had acted alone and that no one was interested in avenging them.

  "Well, Kate. This has been an interesting experience. If you are ever in DC and need a place to crash, you are welcome to stay here as long as you want. And if you ever need a favor and I can help, I'd be glad to. I have a lot of connections in and out of the government." Eddie had accompanied me to the airport where Dory had made arrangements for ATG9-1 to pick me up for the flight back to Burbank.

  "Thanks, Eddie. I've enjoyed our month together, but you've run out of entertainment," I joked. Eddie had been a good client, cooperative and understanding of the ZAP protocol.

  "You're crazy, Kate. That should have been the worst experience of my life and would have been if it hadn't been over before I knew it. And you ..." He stopped as if considering the appropriate word.

  "Enjoyed it?" I asked. "That might not be the right word, but saving lives and thwarting the bad guys gives me an adrenaline rush like nothing else on Earth."

  "Are all the ZAP agents like you?" he asked.

  "Probably not. We are unique individuals when all is said and done. For me, getting to know the real person I'm guarding—not the façade he projects—is the interesting part of the job. And getting to know Eddie Whitcome has been an honor."

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  Retribution Required

  At the airport, Dory had a limo pick me up and deliver me to the condo. And to my surprise, she had scheduled a late meeting with Liang and Matel.

  "Come in, Kate. I see Dory had something for you to drink. Take a seat," Liang said as I entered with a bottle of limeade.

  "That was good work and fast thinking with the Whitcome shooting, Kate. What Ann and I need to understand is how much of your response is uniquely you and how much is attributable to ZAP training. The answer may help us determine if the ZAP training or the search criteria need modifying," Matel said as I sat.

  I didn't know what to say. It felt like one of those unexpected questions you get at a job interview you are never prepared for. Fortunately I didn't feel pressured to answer spontaneously and closed my eyes. I was in love with the job and kind of thought I was just doing what I had been taught to do, but Matel seemed to be saying I had exceeded their expectations.

  "There is something else, Kate. Gilman was stabbed to death in San Diego yesterday while on a post-assignment vacation—"

  "That can't be a coincidence!" I said, interrupting Liang.

  "We don't think so either. We have the FBI looking into both incidents, trying to find a connection. It could possibly be their last assignment, but I have this feeling it's something personal and directed specifically at ATG9."

  "We know you're due a post-assignment vacation, but we would like you to spend a week or two at Edwards and hold a debriefing for the other agents while the FBI investigates these two murders," Matel said.

  Liang gave an agreeing nod.

  "I don't mind. And I’m guessing you would like me to stay away from town." I suspected they were concerned and wanted everyone close until the reasons for the murders could be established.

  "Yes. We're holding the two newest agents here—and Jasmin, when she finishes her assignment. Director Wegner has made this the FBI's top priority, so hopefully it won't be long.


  * * *

  I arrived early the next morning and called a meeting of the three recent graduates, the second year instructors, and all of the current candidates.

  "In case you haven't heard, another ZAP agent has been murdered while on vacation. The FBI is working to determine if they were random events or somehow connected. Until that time, all ZAP agents are confined to Edwards and the ATG9 headquarters building." Looking around the room, I could see the concern on everyone’s faces. "I for one would like ... justice, although I wouldn't mind if we didn't have to wait for God to hand it out."

  I paused, waiting for what I had said to sink in. Slowly, smiles and nods appeared. "I love this job and wouldn't trade it for any position in the world, but we have to recognize we are in a dangerous profession—no less than a combat marine is. So as part of your education, Director Matel has asked me to brief you on my recent assignment, a retired Deputy Director of the CIA who had been responsible for our Enhanced Interrogation Methods Program ..."

  I went on to talk about the meeting with the CIA Director, my time with Eddie, and his routine, which led up to the assassination attempt. "Of course, routines are bad and should be avoided since a good assassin will have watched his target in order to know his routines. That gives the assassin the opportunity to select the ideal place and time to attack. In this case, they parked their car on the route Eddie took to the fitness center. I surveyed the vehicle traffic, the foot traffic—which fortunately was light—and the other side of the street because of the park, and the parked cars."

  I stopped with everyone waiting for what came next. "Gunny Babcock, Masters LeBeau and Ku, let’s isolate everyone and have one at a time run the exercise," I said to smiles from the instructors. Everyone was escorted to a closed room while we set up an area to approximate the configuration where the incident had taken place. Then one person at a time was brought out.

  "Alright, Agent Riccio, Mr. Montes is your client. He is walking and you are following him. Begin walking. You see two men staring at you from across the street," I said as two faces appeared in the car window and the back window began rolling down, I shouted, "NOW!" After several seconds’ delay, Riccio pushed Montes to the side, drew his Glock, and fired in the direction of car with the paintball gun they all carried.

  "You and your client are both dead even if I allow for the four-second delay it took you to respond. You haven't changed your position, you missed the window, and the XM-177 is spitting out ten bullets per second. And your client is only a few feet away, an easy kill since he's standing in full view."

  The exercises went on for two hours, and it was an effort to keep from crying at some of the responses. The two new agents gave respectable performances, although both would have been killed and probably the client. It would have depended on whether their shots just wounded or killed the shooter. After everyone had a turn, I had the tapes played that we had made of each person’s performance. That got a lot of good-natured laughs.

  "Alright, now that you know what not to do if you hope to get a post-assignment vacation, let’s review what I did, because my client and I obviously lived through the real-life experience." I collected Mr. Montes and began walking. When Babcock shouted NOW, I swept Montes's feet from under him while spinning to the ground and firing. It got claps from Babcock, LeBeau, and Ku. We spent the rest of the day practicing the technique as well as developing alternatives. It proved a fun day, and I hoped that the techniques we worked on that day might help to save someone's life in the future.

  * * *

  I spent the next six days at Edwards: consulting, working out, and at target practice. My last assignment had convinced me that I was unlikely to get a second chance in most encounters, so I worked on firing while in motion—either spinning to the ground or while diving for the ground—and at moving targets.

  On the seventh day, Jasmin returned.

  "That looks like a lot of work," she shouted as I lay on the ground catching my breath after diving over a bench and shooting at a target I had swinging twenty-five yards away. "And dirty." She wrinkled her nose as she helped me up and gave me a hug. "I don't blame you for practicing diving for the ground. I hear you're attracted to AK-47s."

  "They spray bullets like a shotgun sprays pellets. They don't need to aim, but you do." I said. "How did your assignment go?"

  "It was actually fairly simple, a Hinckley-like individual who thought he'd just walk up and shoot the Senator."

  "What about the FBI security?" I asked.

  "After I shot the guy, they huddled around the senator with guns drawn." She shook her head. "I can't blame them, what with the after-action hassle they would get: couldn't you have disabled the man without shooting him? Did you warn him before you shot? Did you consider the innocent bystanders in the area? What if you had missed ...? And God forbid the man was reaching for his cell phone to take a picture. Easier to let him shoot the senator and arrest him afterward."

  I looked toward Heaven in mock exasperation.

  She laughed. "I love this job, but I'd hate to be regular FBI security. They're caught between Monday quarterbacks and romantic idealists who have a week to consider the facts that the agent had to decide in three seconds."

  I nodded agreement. "I hate to admit that automatic weapons are a rush. It's like a super-blast of adrenaline. It's a high like no drug could give you. Against impossible odds—you survived, you saved your client, and you're super woman!" I flung my arms wide.

  "I might just take your word for that. Not sure I'm ready for the AK-high." She stared at me for a minute. "Alright, I saw the technique you used, but I haven't heard your exaggerated version of the incident."

  "It goes best with popcorn and a drink." I grinned, locking my arm in hers. We went back to my condo and talked late into the night.

  The next morning, Director Matel requested a meeting with all the ZAP agents. When I arrived, the three newest agents were already there. I had met each of them at Edwards over the past several days. Steve Riccio was a tall dark-haired Italian-looking man in his late twenties. He had six years’ experience with the Special Forces. Maria Lozoya was around thirty, long brown hair, muscular figure, Mexican ancestry, and an inch taller than me. She had eight years on the border patrol in Texas. And Robert Rhee, of Asian ancestry, was thin, wirey, and an inch shorter than me. He had both Seal training and five years with the FBI. We had no sooner greeted each other than Jasmin appeared and Dory waved us over.

  "You can go in now. Director Matel and Liang are waiting in their conference room." She pointed to the glassed-in-room across the hall.

  "Get yourselves something to drink and have a seat," Matel said as we entered the room. Liang was already sitting with a cup of coffee, and she looked nervous. Matel waited until everyone had settled before speaking. "The FBI has been investigating the murders of agents Gilman and Brock. They found no connection between the two murders; however, the killings were deliberate and unprovoked." He stopped and looked at each of us. "That suggests they are targeting ZAP agents."

  "Specifically ZAP agents on vacation, which would appear to rule out one of the professional assassination-for-hire organizations," Liang said. "That is actually more troubling, since it means someone knows who the current agents are, either because they have or had access to ZAP training or because they’ve been watching the headquarters building."

  "Good. Can I take my post-assignment vacation now?" I said, eager to find the bastard who was killing agents and kill him or her or them before they killed anyone else.

  Matel frowned at me. "Do you think that is a good idea?"

  "A great idea. No more risk than protecting a client from a professional assassin. We know he is stalking the headquarters building waiting for potential victims. Therefore, we are as prepared as we could be."

  "I think I'm due a post-assignment leave also," Jasmin said with excitement in her brown eyes.

  "I think they're right, Matel," Liang said with a shrug. "Better to meet them on ou
r terms than theirs."

  After a long silence, Matel nodded. "Alright, but before you and Jasmin go, we develop a plan. You need to be monitored, wear protective clothing, and have a strategy. We need to review the circumstances surrounding the previous two murders: where they stayed, how they got there, what they were doing at the time they were attacked, time of day, number of days into their vacation, etc. Maybe we can determine a pattern and the most likely time or place for an attack."

  * * *

  Matel, Liang, Jasmin, and I spent the next four days reading the FBI reports on the incidents: interviews with witnesses, people in the area, people the agents had met, and crime scene evidence. Then we reviewed the records of the second-year students who had been asked to leave, paying special attention to those who had been refused an opportunity to apply again.

  We spent another several days getting outfitted with bugs and modified vests to protect our backs, which seemed to be the murderer’s favorite target. Even though Gilman had been stabbed in the chest, the investigation concluded the initial attack had been from behind him.

  "The waiting is killing me," Jasmin said as we sat around late one night drinking coffee.

  "Me too, but Matel is right. The murderer may be a coward, but he's dangerous, and the investigation didn't rule out multiple killers. I think we've increased our chances of living through an encounter by a hundred percent."

  "I agree. And this is different from a normal assignment where the assassin's target is primarily the client and we are just in the way."

  "Liang wants to see us tomorrow, so I think she's ready to approve us going out."

  "I hope so. I agree the preparation is necessary, but I'm as impatient as a kid waiting for Christmas morning," I said.

  "Let's hope Santa is good to us." I gave my best evil grin.

  * * *

  "Right now I believe we still have the element of surprise. But if we screw this up, we will lose it. He or they will know we are onto them, and they will most likely disappear now only to reappear at a later time of their choosing and either kill more agents or go free." Liang said, reinforcing the reason for preparation and careful planning. I knew Jasmin was like me and wanted to rush out and kill the bastards, but we knew Liang and Matel were right. "One of you needs to appear to go on your post-assignment vacation while the other one leaves unobserved and in disguise."