Amy Lynn: Golden Angel

by Jack July

  Two months into the western Pacific cruise as part of the John Stennis battle group, Danny began to change his attitude. His shipmates didn’t know how to react to this different behavior and were shy and a bit standoffish around him. They didn’t want to deal with his bullshit. However, five months into the cruise he was invited to a beach party in the Philippines with his shipmates. He had a blast. He learned the art of witty self-deprecation. His wit was his gift. It helped him to think fast on his feet in high stress moments. While performing his job it paid huge dividends.

  What propelled him forward in his career was his shop supervisor Edwards. He told Danny something that stuck. “Boy, here’s the thing. All this technology is well and good but you have to ask yourself one question. What happens when the lights go out? Can you communicate then? Think old school, learn the ways of the world before power. Learn the ways of other countries. That’s when your value increases, you become second to none.” Danny listened and as he soon found out, Edwards was right.

  Three CIA agents and a young Saudi man—not just any man but an heir to the House of Saud—stood by their overturned van twenty miles outside of Sirik, Iran. The young man had just been liberated from captivity by operatives. They were, however, in trouble, big trouble. A sect of Al Qaeda was hunting them, their communications equipment had been damaged and they were alone. The most tech-savvy of the three rigged a radio with the van’s battery and began to send messages any way he could.

  Traveling through the Strait of Hormuz is a dangerous trip for any ship, much less an American warship. The Antietam was at general quarters and Danny sat in CIC listening for chatter of any kind. A faint scratching and popping got his attention. He isolated it, turned it up, and heard what he thought was Morse code: scratch, scratch, scratch, then a pause, scratch…scratch…pop, then a pause… pop, pop, scratch. He heard it over and over again. He isolated and tracked the sound to an area thirty miles away from the ship, in the desert, outside of Sirik Iran. He called the duty officer who ignored him. He then did something that could have gotten him in trouble. He called the skipper directly.

  “Kerr, are you sure?” asked the Commanding Officer.

  “Yes, sir. Someone is calling for help. I know it’s odd, but I have a feeling, I just have a feeling, sir,” said Danny with urgency.

  “Okay son, I’ll call Central Command,” said the skipper.

  No one knew what was going on until the CIA duty officer in Bahrain got wind of the report. Officer Aziz watched through binoculars as four trucks came barreling toward their position. They didn’t have much in the way of arms so they steeled themselves for what would be a final battle. They would not go down without a fight. The trucks came so close that they could see the faces of the occupants. Then came the faint, distant sound of rotors. The SOAR helicopters of the 160th Special Operations Aviation Regiment had arrived. Two DAP Direct Action Penetrator Blackhawks made short work of the trucks. A third landed and picked up the stranded operatives and their newly liberated prince.

  The USS Antietam made port in Manama, Bahrain. Danny stayed on board because he had the first watch. He wondered what, if anything, had come of the mysterious Morse code he had received. A few hours later he was called into the captain’s stateroom. There, next to the skipper, stood a long, lean, stunning raven-haired woman wearing khaki cargo pants, with a white blouse and desert combat boots. She had a small bandage on the side of her head.

  “Is this him?”

  “Yes, ma’am. This is Petty Officer Danny Kerr,” answered the skipper.

  “You can leave us now,” said T. The skipper did so.

  Danny stood in shock as he watched the skipper being dismissed from his own stateroom. He had no idea who this was, but he was about to find out.

  “Mr. Kerr, you can relax,” T said with a soft smile. Then she continued, “I wanted to meet the man that saved my life, along with two other CIA Officers and the future King of Saudi Arabia.”

  Danny’s eyes got big and his mouth fell open. T reached under his chin with her finger and shut it. She said, “That information is a matter of national security. Speak of it and you will be tried for treason.”

  Danny didn’t know what to say so he blurted out, “Um, you’re welcome?”

  T laughed and shook her head. Then she said, “Your instinct is true, never be afraid to listen to it. You are going to do special things; I promise you will. There are no ribbons, plaques, or awards in my business, but I want you to know something. The CIA, the NSA, and others know what you did. They will be watching you. When your enlistment is up they may contact you. Don’t re-enlist right away.”

  T reached out, placed her hand on his cheek, gave it two playful slaps and said, “Thank you, Danny,” as she turned and walked out the door.

  The NSA did call, and that was where Danny started his career. Later he transferred to the CIA and worked communications on different missions, most highly classified. He had a great life. He traveled the world, had a small house in the suburbs of Alexandria, Virginia, a BMW 5 series, a few good friends and a family who thought he was a criminal because he couldn’t talk about his work. Still, there was something missing. He had a few girlfriends but they were temporary at best. What he really wanted was someone to share it all with. Little did he know, T was working on it.

  CHAPTER 19

  November 20th 5:00 P.M.

  Politicians, clergymen, business leaders and others in positions of great power and/or trust are usually brought down by one of two things, money or sex. When it comes to sex, this could be an act of commission, or in the case of closet homosexuals, omission. Both leave one open to the possibility of blackmail. CIA agents are no different. Tatiana heard something, something she had wondered about, but never brought up. She needed to know.

  Fifteen minutes after leaving Boogers Café, Tatiana looked at Amy out of the corner of her eye and saw her body begin to relax. Tatiana turned to her and asked, “Are you Okay?”

  Amy took a deep breath, squirmed in her seat and said, “Yeah, I’m Okay.”

  “I have to ask you something. It’s a little uncomfortable.”

  “Can’t imagine being more uncomfortable than I am right now.”

  “For you to do this job, we have sent agents to talk to old friends and people you went to school with. To find out who you are. Many said you are a homosexual. Where would they get that?” asked Tatiana curiously.

  Amy smiled and then exhaled an exasperated sigh. She shook her head and said, “Oh Lord, not that. I’ve been answering that question since I was in high school. I was asked it so much I stopped answering. I was raised with brothers. I’m not as feminine as people think I should be. I can’t help it; it’s just the way I am.”

  Tatiana nodded her head and said, “Okay, but are you gay?”

  Amy sighed and exclaimed, “NO!” Then she uttered a softer, “no,” then a, “well?”

  Tatiana’s head snapped around and she said, “What do you mean, well? That’s not a ‘well’ question, that’s a yes or no question.”

  Amy shook her head and said, “It’s really not that simple.” Amy paused for a moment and said, “Can we talk, ya know, just as friends?”

  Tatiana reached for her hand, held it and said, “Absolutely.”

  Amy thought for a moment and said, “Okay, here’s the thing... I don’t know. I don’t find women unattractive, and there have been a few that I have found, well, you know, attractive. Men? I don’t know, I wouldn’t know, ya know? It’s just that I’ve never, well you know…”

  Tatiana cocked her head and said, “You know what?”

  Amy struggled for a way to say it without saying it. She continued, “It’s just that, you know, I wouldn’t know, I couldn’t know because I’ve never, you know…”

  Then it occurred to Tatiana what she was trying to say. She said with a little shock and surprise, “You’re a virg
in! Really?”

  Amy nodded then said, “Well, not technically, because…”

  Tatiana cut her off and said, “Yes, yes I know about that. It doesn’t count.”

  Amy took a deep breath and sighed, “So there it is. Now you know.”

  Tatiana started to laugh. Amy began to take it personally and asked, “What’s so funny?”

  Tatiana couldn’t tell Amy what she was thinking. The CIA’s first virgin assassin. She stopped and said, “No, no I’m not making fun of you. That’s a very honorable thing to want to save that part of you for marriage. I am actually impressed that you would be so strong and stand by your beliefs.”

  Amy shook her head, “No, you see, I don’t know if that’s it at all. I had a boyfriend while I was in high school. He was a sweet, wonderful person, but he dumped me over my lifestyle before we got too far. Because of what happened to me when I was fourteen, I threw myself into three things: physical fitness, combat tactics and literature. My Aunt showed me a world of reading and I ate it up. I ran out of books that were, so-called, for my age, so I started reading the classics. Lord Byron, Voltaire, Tennessee Williams... and I studied what love was. Especially the part sex played in it. It was tragedy after tragedy. I synthesized it to this: men give love to get sex and women give sex to get love. In both cases, it ends badly. Virginia Woolf, the writer who lived as a lesbian most of her life, even though she probably wasn’t, said it best. Her older brothers molested her when she was a child. She wrote that it turned her into, as she put it, sexually cowardly. So, I waited, just as much out of fear as any moral imperative. I pushed men away until I met Matt. I was drawn to him like a magnet.

  Tatiana was impressed with the depth of thought over what she considered to be a recreational sport. “That’s deep. What was it about Matt?”

  “I wasn’t sure at first, but right before the helicopter went down, I figured it out. He was a younger version of my Uncle Jack. Kinda sick isn’t it?” she said, a little embarrassed.

  “No, not at all. I have heard that many times women marry men that remind them of their fathers or remind them of men that were important in their lives when they were younger. That’s not sick at all,” said Tatiana reassuringly.

  “Okay, well, now you know,” said Amy with finality.

  They turned down the long drive to the small airport terminal. Through the double glass doors, Amy could see the lights flashing on the private jet and the pilot standing at the bottom of the stairs. Tatiana got out and grabbed her things from behind the seat. Amy walked around to the sidewalk, gave her a hug, “Thank you, it was nice to spend time with you.”

  Tatiana smiled, “Yes, you too. So, what do you think, are you coming to Washington?”

  Amy half shrugged and said, “I’m still not sure that I wouldn’t be in the way.”

  Tatiana took a loose strand of Amy’s hair and tucked it behind her ear and said, “I’m done trying to convince you. It’s up to you.” Tatiana reached into her satchel and pulled out a thick manila envelope and handed it to Amy.

  “What’s this?” asked Amy.

  “It’s everything you need if you decide to come. Study it. It’s your new identity complete with history and supporting documents. If you don’t use it, burn it all.” Then she pulled out a card, wrote a number on the back and said, “If you decide to join us, call this number. The meeting is tomorrow morning. That’s when we go to work.”

  Amy smiled and said, “Okay, don’t be a stranger.”

  Tatiana picked up her things and said, “To you? Never.”

  Tatiana turned and walked away. When she got to the door she turned and gave Amy a smile, Amy waved back, then Tatiana was gone.

  Tatiana prided herself on being able to read people. When it came to Amy? She didn’t have a clue. She walked to the jet and realized that it wasn’t her jet or her pilot. She stopped at the bottom of the stairs and said, “Where is my G-4 and where is Rocky?”

  The pilot politely said, “I am Captain Germaine, Rocky had to have a one hundred and eighty day inspection done, FAA rules, so he could travel overseas. You will have him back tomorrow. Welcome aboard.”

  Tatiana walked up the stairs and took a seat. The citation was not as roomy as the G-4. The captain handed her a sealed manila envelope and said, “I was instructed to give this to you.”

  She got comfortable, opened the envelope and pulled out the dossier of Aurtero Ramos, a.k.a. the Black Cat. She cracked it open and began to read. The plane began to taxi when she looked up and saw the co-pilot looking back at her. What she didn’t hear was the captain telling him to turn around. The co-pilot waved him off and continued to look at Tatiana and smile. Tatiana smiled politely and continued reading. She looked up again and there he was, still smiling an attempted sultry smile. She smiled back and said, “Hi, can I help you with something?”

  The co-pilot grinned and said, “Yes. I’m Jonathan, your co-pilot, and you can start with your name.”

  Tatiana had had a long day and her facial expression quickly mirrored the visage of her alter ego, codename T. “My name? My name is Death. If you eye fuck me one more time, I’m going to tear your head off and fist fuck your throat. Now turn the fuck around.”

  The co-pilot turned around and the pilot whispered, “I warned you.”

  With or without Amy, Tatiana was ready to go. People would die by the dozens until she got what she wanted. She wanted to find Kristy Ann Wilson, dead or alive, preferably alive, and send her home. Along the way, promises would be kept, debts would be paid and her empty shell of a heart, if she was lucky, may, just may, finally be filled.

  CHAPTER 20

  November 20th 6:00 P.M.

  There was much to think about on the half hour ride back to Uncle Jack and Aunt Carla Jo’s. The images Tatiana had shared with her would not fade. Once seen, something cannot be unseen and Amy wished that wasn’t true. She still wondered if she really had anything to offer. Could she help? If she thought she could, she surely would. She would love to put a stop to that and deal some old-fashioned American justice to those responsible. However, there were the skills. The ones she didn’t have, and the things she didn’t know. Ignorance could get them killed. To her, dying would not be as bad as getting someone else killed.

  That familiar, long driveway came in to view, so she pulled in, drove the almost quarter mile, hit the garage door opener, which was new, and put the Vette in the garage. She walked to the front porch and climbed the steps. She smiled a big smile when, sitting on her Uncle Jack’s lap, was her best friend from Afghanistan. She set her stuff down on the sidewalk, held her arms open and nearly squealed, “PATSY CLINE!” The little dog just sat there without moving, so she said it again, “PATSY CLINE!” The dog wasn’t leaving Jack’s lap. Amy walked up the steps to the porch, and took a seat on the porch swing where Jack and Patsy sat. Amy looked at the dog and said, “Traitor.”

  Jack laughed. Patsy’s stub of a tail started to wag, she jumped on Amy’s lap and started licking her face. “There you are. Hi honey. I missed you, did you miss me?” It was apparent that she did.

  “Thanks, Uncle Jack.” Amy turned her attention back to Patsy Cline, “When did you show up?” Amy asked while scratching her ears.

  “Oh, that was a mess,” said Jack with a little laugh. “The car brought her to your dad’s. When Carol saw her, she had a fit about a dog being in the house. Because it was your dog, your daddy wouldn’t back down, and they had their own little Mexican standoff goin’. So, I offered to take her home with me.”

  “Thank you for that, she was there when I felt very alone. Thank you,” said Amy appreciatively. Then she said, “Um, what about Aunt Carla Jo?”

  Jack chuckled and said, “Well, she might pitch a little fit, but it’s your dog, so she’ll get over it.”

  Amy nodded. Jack asked, “How was the funeral?”

  Amy looked across the yard a
nd without looking at Jack said, “It was big, loud and stately with a little redneck thrown in for good measure.” Then Amy looked at Jack, smiled and said, “It was him. They honored him properly.”

  Jack nodded and said, “Good, good. I knew they would.”

  Then Amy pepped up and said, “I got to meet an old friend while I was there. She drove back with me. I dropped her off at the rock Creek Airport so she could fly home.”

  “That’s kinda nice, someone to talk to. Anyone I know?” asked Jack.

  Amy shook her head and said, “No, she was my friend and tent mate. Her name is Tatiana.”

  Jack sat up straight and the color drained from his face. Amy looked over at him and asked, “What’s wrong?

  “Is she the one they call T?” asked Jack.

  How does he know about that? Amy thought. Then she said, “Well, I don’t know what you know. You do know that I can’t talk about things like that.”

  Jack put his head in his hand, rubbed his temples and said under his breath, “Oh, shit.” Then he put on the serious Uncle Jack face, the one Amy had only seen once or twice before. He put his hands on her upper arms and turned her so she could see his face. He said, “You need to forget everything you think you know and listen to me. Are you listening?”

  Amy nodded yes.

  “This country, our country, has a couple of dozen or so people. Special people, very special, highly intelligent, extremely violent and without a doubt, well, they are the most cruel and brutal people on the planet. When we run out of options, when the President needs something dirty, nasty, I mean evil, things done, she calls these people. That person you call a friend? T? She is one of those people. She has no friends; it’s not in her to care for anyone. Emotions like that get those people killed. Amy, she’s an assassin’s assassin. Those movies, you know, the ones with Hollywood actors? They can’t even begin to pretend what she does.”