“Yes, sir, while we were waiting…” Joe didn’t finish the sentence as Jackson started to chuckle.
“I see you know my comic relief,” Christopher responded. “So where is our first stop today, Joe?”
“Sir, we are off to the Pentagon to meet with Colonel Delmar, then to the Eisenhower Executive Office for meetings with the National Security Advisor and some folks from the Intelligence Community.”
“Hey, could you turn that off or change the station?” Christopher directed, suddenly taking exception to Joe’s selection of Christian radio.
“Oh, sorry, sir. Sure. Praise and worship music just helps me get through the day driving with this D.C. traffic.”
“That’s great, Joe, but I would like some peace and quiet before this day starts.”
Jackson shot a glance at Christopher, who was now staring out the window, but he knew he had to figure out his own struggles with God before helping someone else.
As the black SUV wheeled into the north parking lot of the Pentagon, Christopher’s government-issued cell phone beeped with an incoming message. “Meet me at Ground Zero,” the text from Colonel Delmar read.
“Well, this can’t be good. Instead of meeting Colonel Delmar in his office, he wants us to meet him at Ground Zero,” Christopher relayed to Jackson.
Jackson scurried out of the SUV, scrambling to keep up with a hurried and unsettled Christopher. “Hey, wait up a second.”
“Not now, Jackson. You know how Colonel Delmar gets.”
“Well, that’s even more reason to collect yourself before meeting with him,” Jackson replied, stepping in front of Christopher. “What is the best way to handle a near-side ambush?” He posed his question in an attempt to quiet Christopher’s mind.
“That’s easy—assault through.”
“Well, in this case, don’t go into the meeting thinking you’re being ambushed and set the colonel off by trying to defend yourself and assaulting him. Perhaps the colonel just wants to help us get through the day outside of a formal setting.”
“I doubt it, Jackson, but I’ll do my best.”
“Your best today should be exciting,” Jackson remarked with raised brows.
Christopher rolled his eyes as the two of them entered the Pentagon.
As Christopher and Jackson moved through the Pentagon security point and toward the open area at the center of the complex, colloquially called Ground Zero, that still, small voice popped up unexpectedly to reinforce Jackson’s advice. Listen to advice and accept discipline, and at the end, you will be counted among the wise. It first struck him that the voice sure did seem to speak up at opportune moments. Before Christopher dismissed it as nerves, Colonel Delmar waved them over to a bench.
Colonel Roberto Delmar greeted the men with his usual barrage of swearing. “Well, I am glad to see you boys. But I am madder than my mother leaving a wedding without capias.”
“Well, sir—” Christopher began, but Colonel Delmar cut him off with another barrage of expletives liberally sprinkled among his assertions that “they”—they being policymakers—didn’t know how to use Omega Group.
“Gentlemen, I’ll cut to the heart of what you’re facing. The target for your mission was not an ordinary French reporter but rather the niece of the French prime minister. It has gone from a military operation to political fodder.”
“Wow, and that little golden nugget was withheld from me why, sir?” Christopher queried.
“It had zero relevance to rescuing her, Christopher. The more significant problem is the National Security Advisor wants your heads. Making matters worse is the French going on about how we screwed up and, well, it’s become a political issue.” Colonel Delmar stood and swore again as he berated political leadership.
“I see, sir. I can explain,” Christopher began, but Jackson coughed loudly in an attempt to signal him that silence should be his option of choice right now.
“Christopher, there is no need to explain to me,” Colonel Delmar said, placing a large hand on his shoulder. “I have been in your shoes as a warrior, as a tool for policymakers who are willing to get us dirty, but who are slow to keep us clean. So go and meet these stuffy ‘leaders’ and, no matter what, Christopher, hold your head high,” Colonel Delmar exclaimed before heading toward the entrance to the Pentagon.
“Wait, so you just wanted us to come by here for a pep talk before we get slaughtered? Should I say thanks, sir?”
Colonel Delmar wheeled around to meet Christopher face-to-face. “You have a lot of attributes, young man, but trust is not one. You’re in no position, Major Barrett, to argue how the mission’s failure was not your fault. You screwed up, and your Texas-born and -sized ego can’t handle it. The fact that you even have an audience with the National Security Advisor should tell you that people have your back. I have your back, Major!”
“Sir, I won’t—”
Colonel Delmar cut him off. “Stop, Christopher, and think before you say another word.”
Jackson touched the major’s shoulder in an attempt to steady him and slow the dialog between the colonel and him. Colonel Delmar finished the one-sided conversation. “The fact remains a well-connected journalist died because your team was unable to save her. If you took a second to look beyond yourself, you would see that everyone standing here and a few who are not here will make sure you get through this. Let me remind you, it was me who supported you after you turned in the report that all but claimed God Himself destroyed the Russian-led invasion of Israel a few years ago.”
“Sir—”
“Not another word, Major Barrett. Get out of my sight. I will follow up with you on your career path after your meeting with the National Security Advisor.”
The sergeant major pushed the seething Major Christopher Barrett toward the entrance of the Pentagon, saving the man from himself.
* * *
“Hey, what the heck is your problem?” Christopher demanded as he was pushed into an empty meeting room. He wheeled around to face the sergeant major, shouting, “Get your hands off me! Let’s not forget who outranks who here!”
“That’s funny, Christopher, because that colonel you just pissed off out there was trying to help you, but you’re so stuck in your little world that you missed that very pertinent fact!”
“Look, I don’t need this stuff from you, Jackson. I am not just going to sit back and have people say I can’t lead this team…that I got Rev and that journalist killed.”
“Who said you got those guys or the journalist killed? So that’s your problem? You think you got our guys and that journalist killed?”
The major slammed his hands on a desk that stood between them. “No, I am just the fall guy. God let our guys down—including Rev who loved Him. That’s my issue—God forgot to show up yet again.”
“Look, I am the last one to argue with you about God, but what would Rev tell you right now?” Jackson asked. “Look me in the face and tell me how Rev would want you to handle this situation.”
The major dejectedly replied, “I don’t know, man. I just feel like God hates me and has been at war with me all my life.”
“I can’t imagine that feeling, Christopher, but I think Rev would tell you that bad things happen to saints and sinners alike. Look, you can’t blame yourself for who dies in our line of work. We all signed up knowing the risk. The first step in becoming a Green Beret is to volunteer, so stop beating yourself up,” Jackson said, slapping Christopher on the back. “Okay, let’s roll. Don’t forget who you are…the Omega Team leader.”
Major Barrett erupted into a loud guttural laugh. “Wow, you sound like a cheesy military movie character.”
“Hey, man, I am trying to find my sensitive side.”
Christopher squeezed Jackson’s outstretched hand and gave him an embrace, quietly saying, “Thanks, brother. You always have my back, and I can’t tell you what that means to me.”
“Yeah, well, just know I expect compensation for all this free counseling I am giving you,” Jackson r
etorted as they exited the Pentagon.
* * *
The major definitely felt uneasy as they arrived at the Eisenhower Executive Building and headed inside. He imagined this was the same sensation a convicted man had on his way to the gallows. As they passed through security, they were met by the National Security Advisor’s executive assistant. The young man told the major and the sergeant major that the meeting would be held in the Diplomatic Reception Room and that National Security Advisor Markeson was running a little late.
“Well, at least we will have a few moments to collect ourselves before the meeting starts. My suggestion to you, Christopher, is to remain calm. Yes, this meeting is to scapegoat us, but just try to remember that Colonel Delmar already said you’re going to be all right at the end of this process,” Jackson reminded.
“That’s not what I remember him saying, but sure, I will attempt to not freak out like I did this morning.”
Christopher tried to size up his “jurors and executioners” as they entered the stately Diplomatic Reception Room. He didn’t recognize anyone, but the place cards at the table told him that the heavy hitters from the Intelligence Community were represented—the National Security Agency, the National Geospatial Agency, the Defense Intelligence Agency, and of course the Central Intelligence Agency. The latter representative had not arrived.
“Now what’s your deal? What’s with the primping like a teenager heading out to prom?” Jackson asked. “Christopher?” It took only one glance up from heckling Christopher for Jackson to notice a head-turning, petite, olive-skinned, raven-haired thirty-something woman who walked in with National Security Advisor Markeson. “Who is…?”
“That’s Gabriella Teresa Smith-Costa,” Christopher said, answering Jackson’s unfinished question.
“Oh, I see you and Miss Gabriella have a little history. Why haven’t I heard stories about her?”
“Quiet, we can talk later,” Christopher said, elbowing Jackson.
Mr. Markeson set the tempo for the proceedings from the start. “We are here today because we failed one of our most trusted and long-standing allies a couple of days ago. You’re all here to help us discover what went wrong and how we ensure this does not repeat itself in the future. I’ve brought in the Omega Group commander to help us from the ground perspective.”
“No, sir, we have the Omega Team leader,” Gabriella said, unflinchingly correcting the National Security Advisor.
“She is a firecracker,” Jackson remarked, whispering louder than Christopher was comfortable with.
“Yes, of course. Thanks, Gabriella. The Omega Team leader and…you are who, sir?”
“I am, umm, I am the team sergeant major, sir,” Jackson answered, flushing instantly as it seemed he was being called out.
“Excellent,” Mr. Markeson said. “Let’s get down to business, shall we? Gabriella, the floor is yours.”
“Thank you, sir. Good afternoon, ladies and gentlemen. For those who are unfamiliar with me, let me briefly acquaint myself. I am Dr. Gabriella Costa. I serve as the associate director for Military Affairs at the CIA. In this role, I oversee the sharing of critical intelligence related to military operations around the world. Today we will attempt to determine if Omega Group had all the relevant information required to achieve a successful outcome. There seems to have been a breach between the intelligence Omega Group received and what was available.”
“Well, Gabriella, let’s not be too hasty in our conclusion,” Mr. Markeson chimed in. “It seems to me that it was weak operational tactics that led to the demise of the French prime minister’s niece.”
Despite an elbow from Jackson, Christopher said, “Sir, there were many oddities in our operation, but I accept responsibility for the outcome.”
“Well, I did not expect to receive such objective sincerity from a Department of Defense official, but the fact remains, Mr. Barrett.”
“That’s Major Barrett, sir.”
“Yes, excuse me, Major Barrett. I have always worked within the diplomatic architecture of our government and still err with military protocol occasionally. In any case, Major Barrett, I have my doubts that your organization should even exist. Perhaps if the president and the Secretary of Defense had entertained my original solution for diplomatic talks with the extremists, then we might not be here today.”
“Sir, perhaps we should conclude the briefing before we begin a debate,” Gabriella suggested.
“Pardon me, Gabriella, please excuse my faux pas.”
Gabriella continued without acknowledging the National Security Advisor. “Major Barrett, could you please provide us a brief rundown from a previous mission where data from the Intelligence Community ran contradictory from your assessments.”
“Well, is there a particular mission you want me to discuss?” Christopher sensed that Gabriella was trying to lead the meeting, and him, to a specific destination.
“Yes, the Israel mission from three and a half years ago would do just fine.”
“Israel…okay, the bottom line was that something supernatural occurred, with no signs that the Israelis had produced a secret weapon that could have decimated the sizeable invasion force they faced.”
“Supernatural? The report all but said it was God that had defeated the Russian-led invasion. I remember as I was the then chargé d’affaires at the embassy in Jerusalem,” Mr. Markeson inserted.
“Mr. Markeson,” Christopher began, purposefully avoiding the use of sir, “in my report, I made no mention of God doing anything. I merely stated that one of the dominant views, even held by some of the Israelis, was tied to God and religion. General Benjamin Havid, the then Israeli chief of the general staff and now the Israeli defense minister, is the source of the religious sentiment found in my report. General Havid believed that the God of the Jewish people had decimated the Russian coalition.”
Christopher continued before Markeson could interrupt. “Furthermore, the Intelligence Community assessment of a neutron device was unsubstantiated by my findings on the ground. There were no radiological indicators of a neutron event, nor did any nation with the means to detect nuclear explosions describe anything abnormal occurring during the invasion. Heck, the Israelis didn’t even have time to get a complete fighter squadron off the ground before the assault was pouring across its borders.
“The invasion forces were decimated in the air by something yet to be discovered, while ground forces were consumed by massive chasms opening in the Earth and hailstones the size of small vehicles. General Havid said it was as if the sky and Earth were fighting for Israel; he had never seen anything in his thirty years of military service so terrifying. If that is not supernatural, sir, then please provide me a better definition.”
Mr. Markeson, bereft of a response, said nothing.
“Thanks, Major Barrett. Your recounting of the invasion of Israel clarifies some of the questionings of your character and ability for critical thinking,” Gabriella said.
“What…does?”
Gabriella pressed Christopher before he could shoot himself in the foot. “Please provide us with your understanding of the insider threat within the Mosul District commandos before the recent rescue mission.”
Christopher hesitated as he tried to remember the threat intelligence update the day before the mission. “The brief hardly touched on insider threats. It was more focused on the ISIS stronghold at the Bash Tapia Castle.” Now feeling more assured of what he had received from the Omega Group intelligence staff, he continued. “I read a report that said ISIS sympathizers had infiltrated certain Iraqi forces units, but I had no indications that the Mosul commandos contained ISIS fighters. Ultimately General Waleed, my men, and the journalist paid the price.”
Gabriella projected several reports with timestamps onto a large screen at the center of the room. “Well, Major Barrett, the problem is that the fact remains that each agency represented here had passed knowledge to Omega Group that the Mosul commandos were infiltrated by ISIS.”
“Well, I never received confirmation or direct revelation of those reports,” Christopher challenged.
Gabriella ignored Christopher’s response and turned her attention back to the National Security Advisor. “As you can see, sir, the problem is not entirely the tactics of Omega, but rather the dissemination of intelligence to the operatives. I believe my recommendations presented to the director of National Intelligence and the president will ensure the mitigation of future failures of this nature.”
“Hey, you know we are still here,” Christopher asserted loudly.
“Yes, Major, I know you’re still here, and the fact that you’re here and not peeling potatoes in the farthest outpost of the U.S. military is only because of Gabriella’s and the SecDef’s influence with the president.” The National Security Advisor, relishing placing a military leader in his place, continued. “If I had my way, your entire group of trained killers would be discharged from the military and handed over to the French. So, Major Barrett, effective immediately, Omega Group will stand down until an operational review headed by the National Security Council is concluded. Dr. Costa will become the deputy and intelligence director for Omega Group upon its potential reinstatement. As for you and your men, I, unfortunately, have no say in your fate.”
Markeson, with an almost twinkle in his eye, concluded the meeting and departed.
Christopher swore aloud and pushed himself back from the beautiful conference table, causing all who remained in the room to stare at the disgraced man.
“Well, that sucked. I wonder where they are going to assign us?” Jackson asked.
“Gentlemen, if you would follow me,” Gabriella said, directing Christopher and Jackson into an adjacent smaller room.
“Well, I wish I could say it was great to see you, Gabriella, but maybe I should just stick to calling you ‘Boss’ now,” Christopher remarked sharply.
“Real mature, Chris. I saved your angry and ungrateful butt back there. You should know better than most that non-Defense Department folks are leery of you guys at best and hate you more than likely. Markeson wanted you kicked out of the military, but a few of us that know and care about the Omega mission, and you, were able to win over the president.”
Rapture Advent of the Last Days Page 5
