by Bob Mayer
“In the debrief you said you heard us singing, coming out of the Pit,” Scout said. “Like that?”
“Sort of,” Lara agreed. “But not the team. Someone else. And not a song. ”
“Who?” Scout asked.
“I don’t know.”
“Man or woman?”
“Man.”
“What did the voice say?”
“’Here there be monsters’,” Lara said.
THE PIT
Scout nodded as if that made perfect sense. “Yeah. Old maps used to put that in the blank spaces that hadn’t been explored yet. Eagle talked about it when Roland went back to 999.” Scout reached up and gently touched the bandage on Lara’s cheek. “Does it hurt?”
“A little.”
Scout flushed. “Stupid question. You were cut. Of course it hurts. You don’t want me poking around.” She put her arm through Lara’s. “Come on. Moms wants you in the team room. There’s something we have to do.”
“Shouldn’t she be in a hospital?” Lara asked as Scout led her along the spiral ramp around the edge of the Pit. It descended into all of known history, a record of this timeline.
“Dane had one of his people patch her up. But I don’t think she’s going dancing any time soon.”
Lara laughed. “I can’t see Moms dancing.”
“You should have seen her in a tennis outfit,” Scout said. “She can actually look really nice if she tries. She looked pretty good on the last mission.”
“She always serious,” Lara said as they reached the door of the team room.
“She’s responsible.” Scout opened the door.
Moms was in a wheelchair, one leg heavily bandaged and stretched out straight. She looked like she belonged outdoors, with wide shoulders, a narrow waist, and short, graying hair. Her face was weathered and there were more lines there than before.
Eagle sat on one side, Roland on the other. Ivar was across the table, his usual morose self.
“Please sit down, Lara,” Moms said. “We have a tradition that dates back to our time in the Nightstalkers. How long they did it, I don’t know. They were doing it when I joined and—“ she paused as a realization struck her. “I guess that makes me senior on the team, since none of you were there when I arrived. Eagle,” she nodded at the team sergeant, a black man with a shaved head, one side of it scarred from an IED explosion, “is next senior in terms of time on the team. And now we’re the Time Patrol. But I believe strongly that traditions are important. I expect this tradition to be upheld after I’m gone.”
“Of course,” Eagle said, and the other four nodded.
“We take care of our own,” Moms said.
She reached out. Eagle took one hand, Roland the other. The circle continued with Roland to Scout to Lara to Ivar and back to Eagle.
Moms spoke. “It is Protocol for us to acknowledge the death of a team member because no one else will. We must pay our respect and give honors. We must remember.”
She nodded her head toward one of the names carved in the wood table top. MAC. “He was named Mac by the team, but regained his name and his past with his death. Sergeant First Class Eric Bowen, U.S. Army Special Forces, MOS Eighteen-Charlie, Special Forces Engineer, from Texas. We speak his rank and his name as it was.”
They all spoke together: “Sergeant First Class Eric Bowen.”
Moms turned her head. “Scout?”
Scout swallowed. “He was named Nada by the team,” she said, “but in death he got back his name and his past and his daughter. Sergeant Major Edward Moreno, US Army Infantry and then Special Forces, Delta Force and Nightstalker. Team Sergeant. Friend. We speak his rank and his name as it was.”
The team said: “Sergeant Major Edward Moreno.”
“And now,” Moms said, “we add another name. He was named Doc by the team, but in death gets back his name and his past. Doctor Himmat Ghatar, owner of four PhDs. We sometimes made fun of him because of that, but his knowledge saved lives. He came to the Nightstalkers from DARPA, always wanting to learn more. To know more. To understand the world around him, even though it often didn’t make sense on Nightstalker’s missions and even less so in the Time Patrol.
“But, like the rest of us, when given the Choice to go back and change something, or be a member of the Patrol, he chose to move forward. It cost him his life. He sacrificed himself for us in Chicago. Everyone in this room owes him their life.”
Lara shifted uncomfortably, unseen by the rest but felt by Scout and Ivar .
Moms paused and the room was completely silent, until she spoke again.
“Nada and I used to talk; hard as it to believe for those of you who knew both of us. We’d seen some strange things in the Nightstalkers, to say the least. He wondered sometimes if there was something more. Something beyond this life. He always felt he had screwed his life up. Driven his family off. That guilt is part of why he chose to go back and right a wrong. He did that and more, saving the life of one of our teammates we thought had been lost.” Moms glanced at Lara. “We know the dead have voices. Lara can hear them in the Pit.”
Lara shifted. Scout squeezed her hand.
“What that means,” Moms continued, “I don’t know. Are these voices she hears real? Do the dead exist somewhere else? Is there another level of existence beyond this one?
“Now we know there are Fates. There are other timelines. There is a Shadow. But there is so much out there we don’t know. So I like to think there is a higher plane of existence for people like Mac and Nada and Doc. Where they are rewarded for their sacrifices in this existence in which we struggle and fight. There has to be something better.”
Moms nodded at Eagle to continue.
“Doc left no immediate family,” Eagle said. “His body is wherever things go when a bubble collapses. He will have no grave in Arlington. He will only have his name in this table top once I carve it.”
“All we can do is keep him in our hearts,” Scout said.
“In our hearts,” the rest of the team, except, Lara, murmured.
*****
Dane acknowledged Frasier with a slight nod when the Time Patrol psychologist entered his office. The Time Patrol administrator was going through a stack of folders.
“Personnel records?” Frasier asked. “Recruits?”
“We’re below minimum operating strength,” Dane said. “Moms’ wound is going to sideline her for a while. If we get an alert for another mission, we’re in trouble.”
“There might not be time to train an outside candidate adequately,” Frasier said. “We need someone with Special Ops experience. An operator we can get up to speed quickly.”
“Is that your professional opinion?” Dane asked .
Frasier bristled. “I’m here to do a job. If you don’t want me here, I’ll be glad to leave.”
Dane put down the folder he’d been perusing and pulled his reading glasses down on his nose so he could peer over them. “That’s the kind of statement that causes me to give you grief. Stating the obvious. You know there’s no walking away from the Time Patrol. You’re in it for life. Or death, whichever is the case.”
“You going to send Roland after me?” Frasier asked.
“No.” Dane shook his head. “My apologies. I just don’t like recent events. We were lucky on Valentines Day. We knew something was off about that mission, but we didn’t even consider what did happen.”
Dane tapped the pile of folders. “I’ve ordered Eagle to link up with Colonel Orlando and test some recruits. Get the pipeline filled.”
“Orlando is a drunk,” Frasier said.
“We all know that.”
“Why don’t you put me in charge of recruitment?”
“Because,” Dane said, “you have other responsibilities. What have you turned up regarding Lara?”
“Nothing more,” Frasier said.
Dane frowned. “Really? She just came out of nowhere and appeared on that Russian plane?”
“If we believe Orlando�
�s story.”
“Eagle was with him,” Dane said. “Should I doubt what Eagle said, too?”
“No. Of course not.”
“What about Neeley for the team?” Dane asked. “She knows about the Time Patrol. She’s even been here in the Palace. Why shouldn’t we bring her on board? She’s got the training and covert experience. She’s very efficient. In a way, she’s already been on a mission, except she’s not aware of it.”
“You suggested her once before,” Frasier said “and I was against it. I think her relationship with Roland could cause problems.”
“Roland is steady,” Dane said. “So is Neeley. Expediency will have to rule on this. Even if Eagle and Colonel Orlando bring recruits into the pipeline immediately, the training will take a while.”
“How about bumping someone up from the new Nightstalkers and—“
“No,” Dane said. “We want to keep those two units completely separate for now. The Nightstalkers need to build cohesion.” He tapped the stack of folders. “There are plenty of good people in the covert world we can check out and Orlando is going to test these.” He tapped the pile of folders. “Neeley will be a good stopgap. The thing is, though, once she’s in the Patrol, she stays in the Patrol. And I’d have to clear it with Hannah. She might not be thrilled with the idea of losing her best asset.”
“And best friend,” Frasier added.
Dane nodded. “True. And, Neeley will have to be given the Choice.”
An Island Off The Coast Of Puerto Rico
At the moment, the subject of discussion, Neeley, was watching Roland try to vacation.
It was pretty futile. They were lying side by side on a beach in a secure location where people like them went to vacation and not have to worry about getting sniped, or blown up, or otherwise have a sour ending.
At the moment, they had the beach to themselves.
Seemed not many people in the covert, top secret world went on vacation.
“Would it make you feel any better if I told you we were here on a mission?” Neeley asked.
Roland perked up. “We gotta sanction someone for Hannah?” He sat up, looking around. Roland’s body was a piece of art: six and a half feet of sculpted muscle. The only thing marring the image were the scars, witnesses to numerous deployments and missions. The barbwire tattoo on his forehead, which covered an old scar, furrowed as he didn’t see anyone he could kill in the next few seconds.
“No,” Neeley said. “But pretend we do. It will allow you to enjoy the moment.”
Roland didn’t do pretend well either. “At least they have a range here. And the weight room is tops.”
“Of course,” Neeley said. “But you’ve barely gone in the water and we’re on a beach.”
Roland frowned. “I don’t like the water.”
“It’s not cold,” Neeley said .
Roland’s voice turned stubborn. “I just don’t like it.”
There was an edge to Roland’s voice which Neeley had never heard before.
“Okay.” She turned to lie on her side, facing Roland. She was six inches shorter, and long and lean where he was long and bulk. Her hair was jet black, no sign of grey. The worry lines around her eyes could use some Botox but Neeley would no more allow someone with a needle near her face, as Roland would go splash in the surf. She ran her fingers over his chest feeling flesh and scars. “Life is not a mission, Roland.”
He sighed. “I know. I just never took time off before. Not really. Even on leave there had to be a place to get to, something to do. A mountain to climb or something.” Others might have said that last sentence figuratively but it was literal for Roland. The two of them had taken out a pair of rogue CIA agents during a mountain climbing trip while supposedly on ‘leave’. An unsanctioned mission until Hannah had retroactively sanctioned it; accepting the fact one cannot bring the dead back to life; it appeared the Fates had different powers according to Ivar from his Vicksburg mission.
And the agents had committed treason by betraying an op Neeley had been on. Thus Hannah, and Neeley would never give it another thought. Roland hadn’t given it a thought beforehand, except how to do it.
The small island was somewhere off of Puerto Rico. On maps and Google Earth it was marked as off limits because of unexploded ordnance due to decades of being a target for naval bombardment. Buoys with warning signs were positioned all about to ward off the curious. Security was inside the buoys on swift boats to stop the stupid curious who ignored warnings.
The island had been a target for many years and further down the beach in either direction, and inland past the small, well camouflaged, resort, there was more than enough ordnance that hadn’t gone off on impact to make any sensible person think twice, or thrice, before trying to work their way through, or never again if they did try.
“You never had me at your side before when you tried to take time off,” Neeley noted.
Roland grinned, pure happiness. “Yeah.” He wrapped her in his arms and she surrendered to the embrace, something she thought she’d never do again after —
That sad memory was interrupted by Neeley’s Satphone buzzing.
“I don’t have to answer that,” she said.
“Of course you have to answer that,” Roland said, regretfully letting go. “The only person who calls you is Hannah.” He raised an eyebrow. “Maybe we can do a Sanction together?”
Neeley sighed and dug the phone out her bag, pushing aside a pistol, a case holding a poisoned syringe, and a clutch of throwing knives.
She activated the phone. “I’m on vacation.”
“I know,” Hannah said. “I’m very sorry to have interrupted but I have to ask you something.”
The uncertainty in Hannah’s voice made Neeley sit up.
Roland watched her, appreciating the six-pack in her abs as she did so. He was a simple man, like most men, but simple in a very honest way with women, unlike most men. A big reason Neeley was here with him.
“What is it?” Neeley asked.
“I just had a short talk with Dane,” Hannah said. Her voice was slightly distorted, the result of frequency hopping and scrambling.
“Yes?”
“He wants you.”
Neeley automatically looked down at Roland, who was puppy-eyeing her, with a bit more than just puppy love in the look. Roland had definitely not been neutered.
“Temporary?” Neeley asked.
“There is no temporary in that assignment,” Hannah said.
“How do you feel about it?”
There was a long pause, so long that Neeley spoke again. “Are you there?”
“I’m here, Neeley.” A scrambled sigh was still a sigh. “I don’t want you to go. Of course.”
“All right. Then I won’t.”
“It’s your choice, not mine. You’ve got more to consider than I do. It’s your future. It’s a very different sort of unit. And mission. As you know.”
“It is,” Neeley said. She’d been to the Possibility Palace once, to retrieve a message for Hannah. A prediction, they’d been told. But when Hannah had opened it in the Cellar, the scroll had been blank .
“And then there’s—“ Hannah paused. “There’s Roland to consider. Serving alongside someone you have feelings for, well . . .”
“I’ve done it before,” Neeley said.
“You and Gant were different,” Hannah said.
“We were,” Neeley acknowledged. “But we did quite a few ops in our time. And Roland and I have worked together.”
Roland’s puppy-dog look was shifting to a frown, hearing only her side of the conversation. A different person might have pretended not to listen, but, as noted, Roland didn’t do pretend well. It wasn’t an intrusion on his part. He was just worried for her.
“The thing is,” Hannah said, “that there’s more to being part of the Time Patrol than simply signing on. They give you a choice.”
“You’ve already told me the choice,” Neeley said.
“No,”
Hannah said. “Even if you agree to join the Patrol, Dane said there’s another choice you’re going to have to make before they accept you on the team. A very serious one.”
“What did he mean?”
“No clue,” Hannah said. “But I didn’t like it. He made it sound rather ominous. A choice with a capital C.”
The word ‘ominous’ coming from a woman who held the power of judge, jury and executioner over every member of the covert world was disconcerting.
“You could ask Roland,” Hannah continued. “I don’t know if he can tell you. But he had to have made this Choice Dane is speaking of.”
Neeley looked down at Roland. “I’ll do that. But, really, Hannah, I don’t know. I have to think about it.”
“Certainly.” There was another long pause. “Will you let me know when you make a decision?”
“Of course.”
“Thank you. Enjoy the rest of your vacation. I’m sorry to have intruded.”
“It’s all right.”
“No, it’s not. Take care.”
The phone went dead.
“What?” Roland asked.
“Dane wants me on the Time Patrol.”
Roland couldn’t hide his feelings. He smiled, then the smile faded to a frown. “What do you want to do? ”
“I don’t know. Hannah said there’s some sort of ‘Choice’ I have to make, even if I do decide to join the team? She didn’t know what it was, just that Dane sort of warned her about it.”
The frown deepened on Roland’s forehead. “Yeah. The Choice.”
Neeley waited.
Roland sat up next to her and looked out at the ocean. “I don’t know if I can tell you.”
“I’ve been invited to join the team, Roland.”
“I know. But.” He thought about it. “No one said it was secret or nothing. It’s just something we don’t talk about on the team. No one’s ever said what their Choice was. Except Nada. We all know what Nada’s was, cause he chose to go back.”
“’Go back’?”
“To the past,” Roland said. “To change something.” He turned to look at Neeley. “We’re given a Choice to go to a specific time and place in our past or join the Patrol. The time and place is, well, probably the most important moment of our life. Our past. We can go back and change it.”
