by Dan Decker
He had to see that, right?
The lines in his face could have been etched in stone. I read no emotion there.
“What are you going to do, Ensign?” Marchant asked.
She hesitated for only a moment. “I have engaged the thrusters. We are seven clicks out from being able to travel, sir.”
Marchant moved his weapon from my neck and looked as though he were going to point it at her, but after several long seconds he walked back to his chair.
He stood behind it, resting his hands on the back.
“This is mutiny.”
“Wrong, sir,” I said. “You were out of line.” I motioned at the fleet personnel on the bridge. “We have a duty to complete our mission and preserve the lives of those on this ship. You had your opportunity to rescue those on the other ship, but it didn’t happen. I am sorry, sir, but we must continue on our way or the only shot we’ve had at peace in the last decade will evaporate.”
Marchant looked back at me. There were now cracks in his demeanor.
I ground my teeth. “Sir, we don’t have to report what happened here today. None of us will look good.”
He stared at the viewscreen, not an inch of him moving, his eyes glued to it like it was the most important thing in the world.
He nodded and left the bridge of the ship.
After the doors whisked shut behind him, I heard an audible sigh of relief from Ensign Redding.
“You did good today,” I said, returning to my own chair. It was customary for the officer in charge to take the Captain’s chair, but at the moment it felt wrong, somehow.
“Ensign Redding, did you happen to get the name of that ship?”
“It was the FEDE Javelin.”
Comprehension spread through my mind like an explosion. Nobody else here knew the significance of that ship.
I only knew by happenstance.
Marchant’s estranged son had been assigned to the Javelin. I looked at the doors and felt pity for the man but made no move to get up from my chair.
He didn’t want sympathy from me.
Nameless Man
Jake Ramsey is on the cusp of finishing his training. In a few short years, he has already experienced more sorrow than most people see in a lifetime and he can’t wait to get out into the real world to start making a difference.
After quickly breaking into an office space, Jake begins the laborious task of cutting into a safe. Just as he gains access, a man appears behind him with a gun pointed in his direction. Jake cannot decide if the man is part of the training exercise or an outside party interfering with his mission.
When it becomes apparent that the man is after the same thing as him, Jake decides to play for keeps.
This standalone Jake Ramsey short story occurs before the events in Black Brick. If you enjoy thrillers with twists and turns, this short story is for you.
1
The lights turned off and flooded the office space in shadow, startling me as I walked down an aisle between rows of cubicles. Cursing, I spun around and looked along the walls while my hand went to the pistol I kept in my shoulder holster. That was as far as I went, keeping my hand tucked into my suitcoat. I expected to see a person standing beside a light switch, but I was alone.
The seconds ticked by while I waited, afraid to move and miss something vital. This was a test, things were supposed to go wrong. Unexpected things were guaranteed to happen.
Was it one of my teammates? Sent up by Beltran to mess around with me? Was my mentor hoping to make me paranoid?
I took in a long breath as I examined the vast office space. Any number of people could hide in the cubicles or offices that went around the outside walls. I didn’t have time to check them all. I’d been given a time limit of three hours to complete my mission, and I had a feeling I was going to need every minute. I checked my watch and saw ten minutes had elapsed since Shannon and I had arrived at the building. Her instructions had been to stand guard while I went up.
She hadn’t been happy after reading the contents of the envelope, but I hadn’t stopped to chat with her about it. We’d been through this drill before.
It was my turn to go up today, she’d have her own soon enough.
I counted to sixty, hoping that if there were somebody here, I would hear them. Nothing moved. The place was silent, the only sound the grinding of my teeth.
My earpiece crackled. “What’s going on, Jake?” Shannon asked. “I saw the lights go out.”
I didn’t respond and tried not to think about her. We’d been partnered together for three weeks, and I was beginning to suspect Beltran had done it on purpose. Shannon and I had rarely interacted during the group training exercises. She was usually quiet, tending to focus on action rather than words. I hadn’t been excited to learn she was my partner and the feeling had appeared mutual.
The instruction letter for the mission said our surveillance team had confirmed the floor was empty within the last twenty minutes. I had noticed the careful wording and assumed I wouldn’t be alone. Regardless, I had taken care to be as discreet as possible while picking the lock. I’d been concerned I would have to break the glass to get inside when I’d noticed a key fob was required for entry. I had poked around and discovered a backdoor to the space that needed a key. Better yet, because it was made from solid wood, there wasn’t a video camera directly monitoring the door. After I’d picked the lock and broken into the office space, I’d let out a sigh of relief but had still taken care to move quietly.
Because the lights had been on when I’d entered I was glad I hadn’t dressed in black or anything foolish like that. I didn’t need somebody from a neighboring building calling the cops because I looked out of place. Instead, I wore a suit and walked through the space as if I belonged and knew where I was going.
I had been just a few steps from Arnold Smith’s office when the lights had been killed.
Still, I waited. A fly buzzed nearby but faded as it got further away. The place was quiet otherwise.
The cubicles were waist high, so a person could easily hide if all they did was crouch. I stirred when the air exchange kicked on, but it was quiet enough I doubted anybody noticed during the day. At night, it was as noticeable as a pane of shattering glass.
I grabbed my pistol but didn’t yet pull it out. The letter had also said the surveillance team was “working hard on overriding the video feeds” but just in case a guard was monitoring the live security video stream, I wasn’t about to give him cause for alarm.
At least, not yet. My guess was his instructions would be to report the moment I did something that called attention to my actions.
I started to move again. Perhaps the lights had gone off on their own. I had waited for a precious two minutes and seen nothing, so I figured it was safe enough to continue forward.
When I tried the door to Arnold Smith’s office, I wasn’t surprised to find it was locked. I surveyed the space and found three cameras. I was in view of one, and possibly another. I angled my back to cover what I was doing as best I could and slid my lock pick set out of my front pocket, glad I’d had the forethought to put it there to minimize the chance of it getting noticed by the cameras that were now at my back.
As I worked the tools into the keyhole, sweat dripped down the side of my head. I refrained from looking around, praying the surveillance team had indeed been able to run interference with the cameras. If there were a guard and it took me longer to pick the lock than it would for somebody to use a key, the test would be over quick.
Another bead of sweat followed the first, but the lock clicked before it had made it all the way down my face.
I twisted the doorknob and was in.
2
I quietly shut the door and was glad to see the corner office didn’t appear to have a camera. The door was glass, but the walls facing the office floor were not. It was a small stroke of luck. If it had been otherwise, my next step would have been difficult.
Was that what Beltr
an wanted me to think? That it was lucky? I shook my head.
No, I couldn’t afford to think like that.
If something was a certain way, Beltran had set it up that way on purpose. That was always the safest assumption.
I let out a sigh before whispering. “All is clear. It appears the lights were on a timer.”
Shannon didn’t respond, but I figured it was because I’d taken so long to get back to her in the first place. Or because she was still unhappy to be stuck with guard duty while I got to have all the fun. I didn’t want to be in her position, but I would be the next time. That was just the way these things worked.
The executive suite was nice and spacious, with its own bathroom off to one side and a separate sitting area complete with couch, armchairs, and a coffee table. I peeked into the bathroom and noticed it had a shower as well as a walk-in closet.
Shaking my head at the excess, I examined the rest of the room while checking my watch. It had been fifteen minutes since we’d first opened the letter.
I still had plenty of time, but it was best I got on with things as quickly as I could because I had no way of knowing what Beltran would throw my way next.
The office had a shelf full of books. The desk was a huge mahogany monstrosity that had a few binders as well as a couple of loose papers scattered about. I checked the documents as I made my way across the room and found there was nothing significant. Just a few receipts and a handwritten note I couldn’t decipher because the handwriting was so bad. Behind the desk was a credenza. Beside that was my reason for coming.
A large safe.
Even though this was all just a test, and Arnold Smith was either expecting me to break into his office or would at least not call the police afterward, I couldn’t help but feel on edge. Up to this point, all our training had been in carefully controlled environments.
This was my first “field” exercise, and I didn’t want to mess it up. The sudden switching off of the lights had caught me off guard, but it was a good reminder I needed to plan on things going wrong because Beltran had undoubtedly put obstacles in my way that I wouldn’t likely encounter when actually out in the field on a mission.
The heavy safe was a few inches shorter than me and looked like it weighed more than a thousand pounds. I rapped the side and wondered if it had been here the day before or if it had just been brought in for the test.
It was quite likely bought and paid for by Black Brick, courtesy of a subsidiary of undeterminable ownership.
I rapped it again, smiling at the hollow sound. I was glad it wasn’t a reinforced safe, it would make things a great deal easier. I wouldn’t put it past Beltran to make the next training mission doubly hard because of how easy this one was shaping up to be.
The power tool I’d been given with the letter would allow me to easily—if not quietly—cut through the side.
I set my briefcase on the mahogany credenza and put on safety goggles. It took me a couple of minutes to assemble everything, but not long afterward I was cutting into the side of the safe as sparks sprayed down from my saw.
3
I stopped to wipe sweat from my brow. I had just a few inches left to complete the rectangle I was cutting into the side of the safe. The thrum of the power tool had a certain comfort to it, removing some of the anxiety I’d felt for most of the mission.
I carefully slid in a chisel and used it to lever out the piece of metal. It moved but not as much as I had hoped, so I went back to work with the saw. Several moments later I was done and let the piece of metal fall to the carpeted floor.
I was in.
After putting the saw down on the credenza, I pulled out a flashlight and shone it inside. I was looking for a bulky manila envelope and was surprised to see the safe was quite full. I’d cut the rectangle to maximize my chances of being able to access all the shelves, but I’d expected the safe to be empty of everything but the manila envelope.
I couldn’t even see a manila envelope.
“I’m in,” I said to Shannon. “It’s going to take me a few minutes longer than expected. Beltran is going the full nine-yards on this. The safe is packed full.”
“Acknowledged. Hurry, you’ve been gone for close to an hour.”
I didn’t answer as I wound the cord around my saw and put it back in my briefcase, setting beside it the chisel, and my safety goggles. I was about to make a big mess, and I didn’t want to leave anything behind. Beltran would blow his top if I did.
Even though I had latex covers on the tips of my fingers, I’d still put on gloves when working with the tools to minimize the chances of hurting myself. The last thing I wanted was to leave behind DNA.
While a police lab would never run an analysis on the blood, it would hurt the official evaluation of the practice mission. I thought of taking off the gloves but decided to leave them on, my hack job of cutting into the safe had left a few sharp angles, and it was better to have the protection.
Binders, checks, a box of what looked like recipes, and countless other items all came from the exposed shelves of the safe. Beltran had done a thorough job of making it looked like this was regularly used by Arnold Smith.
I was curious about the recipes but didn’t examine the box any longer than it took for me to determine what was inside. Files and files and files came out. At first, I opened each one, curious to learn what was inside but I quickly stopped. I just didn’t have the time.
“You leave yet?” Shannon asked.
“No.” I didn’t elaborate as I closed the file I’d just reviewed and looked back at the safe. It was only half empty. As I returned to the safe, I noticed something from the corner of my eye and spun.
A man stood in the doorway with a silenced pistol pointed directly at me.
4
My first instinct was to reach for my own gun, but it was too late for that. Sweat crept into my eyes, and I blinked it back. I’d never before had somebody point a gun at me except in training. I tried to tell myself this was all just part of the exercise, but something in the back of my mind told me it was not.
Perhaps it was the cold steel eyes of the man who held me at gunpoint. Or maybe it was the fact that the more stuff I’d emptied out of the safe, the more convinced I had become I was really emptying out Arnold Smith’s personal possessions. Or it could have just been the way the man held his gun with ease, no visible sign of anxiety or emotion.
“Slowly reach into your jacket and put your weapon on the desk.” He must have seen my hand moving for my suit coat because I stopped.
I cursed silently as I pulled out my pistol and followed his instructions. My Glock 20 held live rounds. Beltran had been adamant that even though this was a training exercise we were technically in the field, and you always went into the field with real ammunition.
“We can work through this,” I said, feeling a little lame that I didn’t feel any of the bravado I’d felt during practice. I’d faced this situation hundreds of times, but that had always been with dummy pistols.
Sweat trickled down my back and formed under my armpits.
This is the first time I’ve ever had a live bullet pointed my way, I thought.
Just one pull of his finger and I’d be dead, he didn’t look the type who left wounded people in his wake.
“Where is the package?” He spoke with a southern accent.
“I haven’t found it yet.” I gave him a big smile. “Would you like to help me?”
A cold glare was all I received in return.
“What’s going on, Jake?” Shannon asked.
I didn’t respond to her as the man and I faced off. All in all, I was doing better than I thought I would the first time somebody pulled a weapon on me. My heart rate had increased, and I was sweating more, but I stood straight and looked the man in the eye without cowering. That in and of itself was a testament to the fact that my training was doing its job. The silence continued.
“Jake, are you there?” Shannon asked. “If you can’t respo
nd, cough once. If you are in danger, cough twice.”
I naturally cleared my throat at the suggestion, but I didn’t do it in any recognizable pattern. I was hesitant to respond to Shannon’s request and forced myself to look at this as a test.
Beltran was going the extra mile to make this look real. The man across from me wasn’t an actor, but my guess was he’d been through the training I was currently undergoing.
As my perspective on the situation shifted, I took more of an academic approach. What was the best way to neutralize the threat while still accomplishing my mission?
I needed to distract him. The man spoke again while I considered my options.
“You are going to move very carefully. Any sudden movement and I will shoot. You sneeze? You’re dead. You even look at me wrong, and I’ll blow off your head. Do you understand?”
“I do.”
“Empty out the safe. If you find a weapon or anything that looks like a weapon, call it out and step away.”
5
It seemed to take forever while I emptied the safe, but I glanced at my watch a couple of times and saw that only ten minutes had passed. I was a little surprised Shannon hadn’t turned up, but perhaps she had received orders to not interfere if I didn’t give her some sort of signal. I could have easily coughed twice and had her help, but it just seemed like a cop-out.
Beltran expected more of me.
I expected more of me. I hadn’t spent the last four years of my young life training for this to call for help the moment I experienced a little turbulence.
No, this was part of the training. Beltran was testing me to see how I would respond.
In a real-life situation, I’d probably have been justified in shooting the man with the pistol I kept on my ankle holster, but I was only supposed to have the one, and I suspected hidden cameras were monitoring what was going on.
The hidden pistol was my backup. Even though I’d been wearing it for several months, it still felt weird to hide it from the rest of my team. After having spent so many years training with firearms, I just didn’t feel right unless I had one on me.
