by Leigh Barker
What was needed was a more subtle approach. One that targeted their weakness rather than their strength. He simply had to find that weakness and exploit it.
He wished he still had the Newton’s cradle on his desk. He’d liked to consider how motion was translated into energy and energy into motion. It helped him to focus on what was important instead of just reacting, but it had gone, removed when he wasn’t looking. At the same time as his real clock.
He stood up and crossed to the windows to watch the city going about its day completely oblivious to the Machiavellian manoeuvres changing their government from an instrument of the people to its master. By the time these self-absorbed little…citizens realised things had changed fundamentally, it would be too late to prevent it, and attempting to do so would bring down the wrath of the state on their pathetic heads.
Divide and conquer.
Of course. As a unit, these men were formidable, but split up and alone they would be easy pickings. Leaving the girl to her fate.
He smiled. For a while he’d felt as though he was slipping, but not now. Now Orpheus was back.
“I don’t get it,” Gunny said, sitting in the back of the Viking’s Ford Expedition they’d found parked up safely in the village after the local warriors had run away. Right after they’d realised their paymasters were charcoal.
“Why Marius didn’t just shoot Andie right off the bat?” Ethan said, turning a little to look back.
“No. Well, yeah, but why shoot her at all?”
Andie leaned forward from the third row of seats. She usually didn’t listen to what the guys were saying, but this interested her. As it would. “He said you’d blow his head off.”
“And he was right, but he was a sniper,” Gunny said. “Why not just…pow!” He fired his finger at her.
“Same result,” Ethan said, settling back down as the SUV bounced along the rough road out of the mountains. “If he’d shot one of ours, I’d have flushed him out and be wearing his ears on a string around my neck.”
“Yeeuk,” Andie said.
“Did it all the time in Nam,” Gunny said.
“You were in Vietnam?” Andie sounded surprised.
Gunny turned and looked back down the space between the rows of seats. “How old do you think I am?”
Andie shrugged. “I don’t know. I suppose you’d be young.”
Ethan was chuckling.
“True. I’d have been a five-year-old marine.”
“And as ornery as a bull with its balls in a vice,” Winter said without opening his eyes.
“Point being,” Gunny said, giving his sleeping friend a hard stare, “why’d Orpheus want Andie dead?”
Smokey pulled the Ford onto the main highway south and ignored the blaring horns. He looked at the satellite phone he’d placed on the dash. “Comms are back.” He glanced at Ethan. “And there’s a message.”
Ethan picked up the phone and listened, then pressed a couple of numbers and waited.
“Who’s calling in such a hurry?” Gunny said.
“Mr. Secretary,” Ethan said into the phone, “it must be the middle of the night there. Last night. Something’s up.” He listened for a few more seconds. “Copy that, sir. And thank you.” He dropped the phone into a coffee cup holder between the seats. And was silent.
“That bad, eh, boss?” Gunny said.
“SecNav’s been fired. So has the secretary of the army, air force, and everybody else.”
“Can’t be Orpheus, not even he is that powerful.”
“The President,” Ethan said, and stared straight ahead.
“And?” Winter said, leaning forward into the aisle.
“And…” Ethan started, and then took a long breath. Just say it. “Orpheus has sent people after our families.”
Nobody spoke. Smokey put his foot down to the floor and cut through the impossible gap between two trucks boxing them in just for something to do.
“What about the police? Surely they can do something,” Andie said.
“What are they going to do?” Winter said, sitting up and suddenly alert. “There’s no proof. They’ll maybe have a car do a drive by a couple of times. But they’ll just chalk it up to paranoia. Too much war.” He shrugged. “No, it’s up to us.”
“What can we do?” Loco said, biting his lip nervously. “What are we? Twenty-five hours’ flight time?”
“A bit less,” Ethan said. “Thing is, Orpheus doesn’t want to kill our families.” He turned in the seat so they could see his face clearly. “He wants to split us up.”
“So he can kill us one by one,” Gunny said.
“I’d say that’s his plan, since his other attempts haven’t worked out too well. But it means our families are safe. For the moment. He’ll want us back in the US, where he can do the job properly.”
“That’s good to hear,” Gunny said. “Except if we don’t do what he expects, he’ll start killing them to make us.”
“We need one day to get back,” Ethan said.
“We can’t watch everybody’s family,” Winter said. “And no way we can get them all together in one place.”
“I’ve got a mother and a sister. They depend on me,” Loco said.
“We all have,” Gunny said. “I’ve two kids just starting out in life. And a wife. Okay, she hasn’t spoken to me for a while, but this shit is down to me. I have to be there for them. Even if they don’t know it.”
“Goes for all of us,” Smokey said. “My gran’s more of a mother to me than my real mother ever was.”
“There’s no decision to be made,” Ethan said. “You have to go look out for your folks. Everything else is just work.”
“Not me,” Winter said. “There’s nobody looking to me to save them.”
“Nor me,” Andie said quietly. “I grew up with foster parents. Lots of them.”
“Top,” Winter said, and waited for Ethan to look at him so he could see he meant what he was about to say. “You and the kid need to find out what the fuck’s going on and stop it at the source. Or this is just the ramp onto the road to hell. Orpheus will kill us all sooner or later. And our families, if he’s a mind to.” He saw the look cross Ethan’s face. “Don’t worry about your wife. I’ll go keep an eye on her.”
Ethan watched him for several seconds and then nodded once. “Up till now this was work. Orpheus just made it personal.”
“How are we going to stop him?” Andie said.
“Same way as you stop any snake,” Ethan said. “Cut off its head.”
“You’ve got to find the snake first,” Gunny said. “How you going to do that?”
“I’m not. Andie is.”
Andie stared forward from the back seat. “I am?”
“You are,” Ethan said.
She frowned heavily as she thought about it. “Okay. I think.”
“And when she does?” Gunny said.
“I’ll put my Colt under his chin and get him to call off his kill squads.”
“That’ll work.”
“Then I’ll pull the trigger,” Ethan said, sat back into the seat and closed his eyes.
Death Squad
Orpheus had a decision to make, not the usual decisions he made almost every minute of every waking day, this one mattered. It was a simple choice: which wife, kid or whatever should he send the team to? Before he’d had him replaced, he’d let SecNav believe he had squads staking out all the families of his pet marines, but he didn’t have hit men on the payroll, well, not enough of them to cover six locations. So he had to decide where to send the few he had. It should’ve been a simple decision because with authority comes responsibility, so the lead troublemaker should be the natural choice, but his analysts told him Gill and his wife had been divorced for years and rarely spoke. Would he respond to a threat to her? That was the question. Or would it be better to send them to the next in line? He knew his name without having to check the folder on his desk. Gunnery Sergeant Charles Petty. Chuck to his friends. Of course.
For a moment he wondered what it would be like to have friends to give him a pet name, instead of detestable brown-noses sucking up to get their way in this scheme or that. Of no importance. Friends are just crutches for little people who can’t stand on their own. No time for such weakness, not now or ever. Windy Greenberg. For Christ’s sake, that had been in first grade. And a friend? I don’t think so. Okay they’d played together, but never as equals. Until Windy’s mother had forbidden him from seeing him. He felt his jaw clench and made a physical effort to relax. A lifetime ago. But she’d paid for that. He’d seen to it. The Greenbergs, full of self-importance. Nothing more than trade. What was it? Jewelry? Diamonds or something. Not so up themselves when their suppliers no longer returned their calls and their main customers were suddenly fully stocked. It had taken years. What was it these people say? What goes around, comes back. Or something like that. Well, it had. Another tick in a box. A man, a real man should never allow a slight or insult to go unanswered. A sign of weakness that is like blood in the water to the others circling.
Gunnery Sergeant Petty. He opened the file. A wife, daughter and a son. Having them butchered should send an appropriate message to the rest of the fools. They would be hamstrung by fear for which family would be next. No team, military or otherwise, could remain coherent with that threat hanging over them.
He was tired of having to deal with such trivial nonsense. There were better things to attend to. Much better things.
The Gulfstream had long gone. They left the SUV illegally parked at the airport with the weapons in the trunk. Dumping them in the mountains or dropping them in the river was never going to happen. Kids play in Pakistan just like anywhere else, and it was a odds on that one of them would find the arms about five minutes after they got dumped. Leaving them at the airport for the cops to find was the way. And it would get some guy a promotion for foiling a terrorist plot. A win-win, then. A good deed to be picked up by God and rewarded. And God would surely know they needed all the heavenly support they could get.
Ethan paid for the six one-way tickets from Srinagar to Washington. Six thousand dollars and no change.
As they approached the gate, Loco had an idea. It was today’s.
“We should’ve gone on different flights, that way the man wouldn’t see us coming.”
They stopped and stared at him without speaking for several seconds, waiting for his brain to stop freewheeling and engage. Seconds was never going to achieve that.
“What you think, Andie?” Ethan said. “How long would it take somebody like you to connect us and the flights?”
Andie frowned at him as if it were a difficult question. It wasn’t, it was just stupid, but she answered it anyway. “Before you’d put your credit card away.”
Ethan nodded and glanced at Loco. “Yes, that’s what I figured.”
“Just saying, that was all,” Loco said, setting off again towards the desk. “Make a helpful suggestion. What you get?”
“I hear you, man,” Smokey said, and put his arm around Loco’s shoulder to console him.
Loco shook it off. “What? You suddenly decided to like me or something?”
“Man, I’ve always liked you,” Smokey said, and ruffled the smaller man’s black hair. “Hell, what’s not to like?” He glanced at Ethan. “Like a shaggy poodle. All panting and zip. And no brains.”
Loco strode ahead and left them to it, handing his boarding pass and US passport to the smiling female check-in agent.
“So Orpheus will know we’re coming,” Gunny said.
Ethan scooped up his bag and followed Loco. “Man doesn’t need to scan the airlines to know that. As soon as he set his goons on our families, he knew we’d be coming for him.”
“I still don’t get it,” Gunny said, following. “Why not just let us fly on back to Andrews and have a kill squad waiting? What’s with all this drama?”
“He had a kill squad waiting for us here,” Winter said. “Their ground, their rules. Didn’t work out too well, did it?” He let it go there and handed his boarding pass to the young woman. He smiled at her, but it didn’t show on his face. Just a slight narrowing of his ice-blue eyes. It was very discomforting and the woman processed his boarding pass as fast as she could.
Having booked their seats at check-in, they were scattered throughout the plane and were done talking until they reached their stopover at Indira Gandhi Airport. And that suited them just fine. Just time to get settled before the eighteen-hour haul back to Dulles. Time to sleep off the soul-draining tension of the last days. And think about what was waiting for them back home.
SecNav was gone. Replaced by one of Hofmann’s chosen people. But that was no more than expected. What was most gratifying was that the Texan had accepted his recommendations for key positions in his closest inner circle. Accepted them almost without question. Thank God the country’s well-being was no longer in his hands. Even if he didn’t know it.
The first order of business for Hofmann’s new cabal was to get the country back to its rightful place as the greatest nation on Earth. And to do that in short order required a bold act. Something to shake up the leaders of the lesser countries and get them gutter-fighting to be first in line behind the United States. And he knew exactly what that bold gesture should be.
He sat on the corner of his desk and pressed a button on the phone. Almost before he’d released it, Bernard spoke.
“I have arranged a secure three-way call for you, sir.”
Hofmann smiled, but kept it out of his voice. “And who would that be with, Bernard?”
There was silence for a beat. “The strange man in the White House and the Russian president, of course, sir.”
“And you know this how?”
“In chess, there are often many moves, but only one will best suit your chosen strategy.”
Hofmann chuckled. “I couldn’t have put it better myself, Bernard.” He moved around the desk and sat down in his chair. “And when have you arranged this little strategic move for?”
“There will be time for you to reach the conference suite and sip your first coffee.”
“Then I had better make a move,” Hofmann said, standing again. “Do you have any pearls of wisdom to advance my…strategy?”
There was silence again, this time for a whole second.
“The US campaign in Indochina was thwarted not by the Viet Cong or their Chinese backers but by the drug-stoned hippies right here at home. Their tree-hugging stupidity cost the lives of many brave young men. And gave China the platform from which they now dominate much of the world.”
Hofmann waited, his smile long gone as he considered what his most trusted advisor was saying.
“Had the president at the time had the stones, he would have rounded up these traitors and put them to work in camps.”
“And you think these…traitors will rise up again when we and our Russian friend take back the world from the yellow peril?”
“Most certainly, sir. I do.”
“Then, my dear friend, perhaps you might help me formulate a plan for suitable accommodation for our new voluntary workers.”
“It will be my pleasure, sir. And, sir?”
Hofmann rested his finger on the speaker button.
“Perhaps the first residents of the camps should be from our own Capitol building.”
“Yes, I believe they should.” Hofmann pushed the button and ended the enlightening exchange.
Things were moving faster than he’d anticipated and he needed to move up a gear, get ahead of the game. It would’ve been very much easier had he the luxury of time to think enjoyed by Bernard, sitting in his quiet office one floor below. Then he would see things as clearly as he. Yes, quiet time, that was the advantage the man had and why he was able to define a exquisite strategy in the time it took most men to go for coffee.
Quiet time. Of course. Nothing more. Had he even a little of the same contemplative sanctuary, he would be able to see the intertwining th
reads of opportunity and risk as clearly as Bernard. More clearly perhaps.
He was still considering how his advisor was able to anticipate his needs and his unspoken plans as he entered the conference suite. Two of the three giant screens on the wall were blank, with the middle one showing him taking his seat in the highbacked leather chair intended to emphasize that here was a man at ease and in control. His screen was between the two presidents’. A mediator. A man able to see both men’s positions and advise them impartially.
The president appeared on the left screen, slightly out of breath and a little pink.
“Good afternoon, Mr. Pr…Dicky,” Hofmann said, and tilted his head as if looking the man over. “Issues of state nipping at your heels?”
Dicky wiped his face on a white handkerchief and blinked at him for a moment while he caught up. “The people running this office and this country are back-stabbing…” He squeezed his eyes shut for a moment. “Back-stabbers.” He took a long breath. “They see only their own political agenda and couldn’t care less for the well-being of the little people of this great nation.”
Oh please.
Dicky put his handkerchief away and made a visible effort to gain some semblance of control. “I’m looking forward to my new appointees coming on stream and kicking some political ass.”
“I’m sure you won’t be disap—”
The third screen came alive to show the Russian president sitting behind a ghastly ornate white desk. And looking composed and relaxed.
“Good to see you, Vlad,” Dicky said. “And looking tanned. Have you been out hunting polar bears on horseback?”
“Polar bears are protected, are they not?” Vladimir said, with a frown.
“You say so,” Dicky said, and adjusted an untidy pile of papers on his glass-topped desk.
“Perhaps we should move on to the purpose of this meeting,” Hofmann said.
