Termination Order: A Team Reaper Thriller

by Brent Towns

  “Can you shut them down?”

  “I can try.”

  “Do it. Reaper One, out.”

  They entered through the main entrance; a grand affair made up of wrought-iron gates and stone pillars. The gravel path went on for ten meters before branching off in three directions. The first path hooked around to the left, through a variety of tall trees. The second almost traveled on straight away from them, while the third did a right hook towards what appeared to be a line of large conifers. Kane scanned the scene before him for civilians. There were a few scattered around that they could see, but most seemed to be off to the right where some parklands had been set out.

  Then Kane saw what appeared to be a large glass greenhouse which looked more like an Indian temple. He pointed at it and said, “Carlos, in there.”

  “Roger that,” he acknowledged and pushed Falk in that direction.

  “Which way do you want to go?” Kane asked Cara.

  “I’ve always had a thing for big trees,” she said, nodding to their left. “We’ll go this way.”

  “OK. If you come across any civilians, get them to leave the immediate area. Show them your gun if you have to.”

  “Copy. Good luck.”

  They took their leave and jogged away toward the trees, the gravel from the path crunching under their shoes. Kane turned to Brick. “Follow me.”

  Starting to walk briskly straight ahead, Kane called into their HQ. “Bravo Four, how’re you coming along with that blackout?”

  “Almost there, Reaper.”

  “Hurry it up.”

  Kane and Brick followed the path as it banked around to the right and then deviated back left. It was lined with small shrubs and plants which were neatly manicured. A couple of larger specimen trees stood tall on their right as well, while to the left a small blank expanse of grass seemed incongruous with the setting, almost as though someone had forgotten to plant it out.

  A dark-looking pond appeared ahead at their one o’clock. It was surrounded by thick reeds and a few sparse trees. Opposite was a narrow channel which weaved its way through rocks and tall grass. It was made to look swamp-like.

  “Reaper, I’ve shut down their surveillance. The only problem is that they were using the same satellite as us. Which means we’re blind too. Sorry, you’re on your own.”

  “Copy, Bravo Four,” Kane said. Then to Brick, “Just like being in the jungle all over again.”

  Blackbird Command

  Geneva

  “Shit!” the computer tech hissed through clenched teeth.

  “What the fuck just happened?” Newcomb demanded.

  “They cut our feed.”

  “Who did? Thurston’s lot?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “I don’t care what it takes, get it the fuck back up, now.”

  The man’s fingers flew across the keyboard as he tried to bring the feedback online. “Whoever locked us out is good, sir. It looks like that to do it; they also locked themselves out of the feed, too.”

  Newcomb nodded. “Blackbird One this is Blackbird Base, do you read? Over.”

  “Copy, Base.”

  “You’re on your own, Bull. We’ve no eyes. The only bonus is that they don’t have any either. But before we lost signal, they were splitting up. It looks like they’re going to make a stand.”

  “I’m used to being on my own.”

  The comms went dead.

  Jardin Botanique

  Geneva

  Bull Horton turned to his men and one woman. “Split up. They’re making their stand here. Watch yourselves too. They’ve already made us bleed once.”

  Suddenly the squeal of tires drew their attention and two SUVs approached at a good pace. The Blackbird men brought up their CQBRs ready to fire. The vehicles shuddered to a halt and eight men climbed out, all armed with automatic weapons and dressed in tactical gear. Horton screwed his face up and asked, “Who the fuck are you?”

  In heavily accented English, their leader said, “We work for Mr. Marek. We’re here to help.”

  “The fuck you are,” Horton swore. Then he spoke into his comms, “Blackbird Base, copy?”

  “Copy.”

  The team leader reported what was happening and waited for a reply. Newcomb said, “Use them, Bull. Send them in first as a buffer for the rest of you.”

  “Copy. Blackbird One, out,” Horton said grudgingly. “All Right. You want to help, then break your men up into teams of two and start helping. They’re in there, somewhere.”

  The Marek team leader snapped a couple of orders, and his men split up and entered the gardens. Horton glanced at Nicole. He nodded at her handgun. “You want a CQBR instead of that?”

  “I’ll be fine.”

  “Suit yourself.”

  Cara watched as two men approached their position. She and Axe were laid up amongst some flowering shrubs where bees buzzed about their business, ignoring the presence of the two intruders.

  She brought up her MP5SD, waiting for them to come nearer. “Let them get a little closer and then nail the bastards.”

  Unaware of their presence, the two men came on, eyes scanning left and right looking for threats. Cara knew that it wouldn’t be long before the Geneva Police started to show, so was aware that they were running against the clock. The longer they lingered, and more sustained the shooting, it was highly likely that innocents would be killed.

  Cara took a deep breath and said in a low voice, “Execute!”

  She came to her full height and fired. The shooter on the left jerked under the impact of the rounds. He staggered and then fell. Beside her, Cara heard Axe’s suppressed MP5SD cough twice and the second man crumpled.

  Before moving into the open, Cara glanced around to check for further targets. When she was reasonably sure there were none, she said, “Let’s get them under cover.”

  The pair hurried forward and grabbed the fallen men by their collars. Dragging them toward the shrubs, they didn’t worry about the heels leaving furrows in the gravel path. Once they had them hidden, Cara did a quick dig through their pockets. When she found nothing, she looked for any distinguishing marks; again, nothing. Then she saw the weapons they were using. HK G36Cs.

  “These guys aren’t Blackbird, Axe,” she said urgently. “Look at their weapons.”

  Axe turned from where he’d been keeping watch, and studied the carbines. “You’re right. That means they can only be …”

  “Marek’s men or we’ve completely fucked up,” Cara finished. She said into her mic, “Reaper One? Reaper Two, copy?”

  “Copy.”

  “Reaper, we’ve got an issue. We just took down two men who aren’t Blackbird.”

  “Say again, Reaper Two.”

  “I said they aren’t Blackbird. My guess is that they work for Marek.”

  “Copy. Reaper One, out.”

  Cara looked at Axe. “Come on, let’s move.”

  They broke away from their cover and moved further along the path to take up a new position.

  Meanwhile Kane and Brick waited, watching from their position in the manmade swamp. Through the tall grass, they could see two men approaching. Like the ones who’d been killed by Cara and Axe, these guys showed all the marks of being military trained.

  “You realize that once we open fire, we’re going to draw shooters like flies to shit, don’t you?” Brick commented.

  “Easier to shoot that way,” Kane retorted. “Saves us going looking. If we get a chance, once we put them down, see if we can get their weapons and ammo. I wouldn’t mind a carbine about now.”

  They continued watching and waiting. Insects buzzed around Kane’s head. He swatted at one of the little bastards just as it landed on his neck. “Better than Colombia, Reaper.”

  Chip’s words rang inside his head. Kane tried to block his dead friend’s words, and he whispered, “Not fucking likely.”

  “Say what?” Brick whispered.

  “Nothing.”

  The pair of sho
oters were closer now, but Kane noticed something else. Coming along another path, on the other side of a small, reed-choked pond, was another pair of shooters. These two were different, however. They were armed with CQBRs. Kane said, “Over there, Brick. Two of Horton’s men.”

  The ex-SEAL glanced over at the other duo as they walked along the path. “If we open fire on these two, those over there will hit our flank and have us pinned down.”

  “That’s what I was thinking. Give me a couple of minutes to get into position. If I’m not ready when you are, then just open up, and I’ll do my best.”

  “Where are you going, Reaper?”

  “For a swim.”

  Kane snaked through the tall grass and into the water, keeping himself low enough to be below the surrounds of the pond. It was cold, almost bone-chilling. He moved through the water and reeds slowly, trying not to get tangled. By the time he reached the other side, he was almost certain he was about to run out of time. He said into his comms, “In position Reaper Five.”

  “Ready when you are.”

  “OK. Three, two, one, Execute!”

  Both men came erect. Brick from the tall grass and Kane on the slippery bottom of the pond.

  The M17 in Kane’s hand barked twice, and one of the two shooters on his side of the pond flailed around and dropped to the path. The second one brought up his CQBR and started to spray the area where the shots had come from before he’d even laid eyes on his target.

  Lead hornets ripped through the air all around Kane, causing him to drop back down. The reeds were torn to shreds as the 5.56 rounds cut through them like a lawnmower. He splashed to the left trying to escape the hail of gunfire.

  Somewhere behind him, Kane heard Brick blow off a steady stream of fire. A shout told the team leader that at least one shot had hit a target.

  Another burst of gunfire whipped through the reeds and Kane waited for a pause before he popped back up and fired three quick shots of his own.

  One must have clipped the shooter because the man staggered. However, Kane was already dropping back down when he noticed it.

  He paused and straightened once more. The shooter was down on one knee, a hand held to his chest, head bowed. One of Kane’s shots must have hit him in the armor plate of his vest, stunning him.

  Kane lurched out of the pond, a torrent of water running from his clothes which could absorb no more. His boot slipped on the bank, and he had to put his left hand down to stop himself from falling. Cursing, Kane righted himself and brought up the SIG. He started to walk toward the hunched-over shooter, firing steadily as he went. Four bullets struck home, the last buried into the man’s head.

  Behind him, a flurry of gunshots sounded. Kane turned to see Brick shooting at the remaining man of the duo he’d been tasked to take down. The man fired a burst, and the ex-SEAL dropped out of sight, pinned down by the accurate shooting.

  Kane turned and rushed across to the dead men he’d shot. He scooped one of the CQBRs and turned back. The carbine rose to his shoulder and the red dot sight centered on the killer. Squeezing the trigger and leaving his finger curled back, the team leader could see the bullet strikes and stopped firing. The man fell to the ground with a hole in his head.

  With the gunfire ceased, Brick appeared. He looked over at Kane who signaled for the ex-SEAL to join him. Once he was there, Kane said, “Are you OK?”

  “Yeah, I’m good.”

  “Get the other CQBR and any ammo.”

  The sound of sirens could be heard in the distance and Kane muttered a curse. The police would be here soon, and out there somewhere, Bull Horton still lurked. And God knew how many of Marek’s men were left.

  Chapter 19

  Shenandoah National Park

  It was dark, and he could hear voices. Somewhere between being taken and arriving at his destination, someone had jabbed him with a syringe. Now Horn was waking in a black fog.

  In the distance there were voices. He strained to hear what they were saying but couldn’t make it out. Horn’s head hurt, and he guessed it was a side effect from the Ketamine he’d been given. If it was Ketamine.

  The sound of a door opening and footsteps on boards, getting closer. Horn tried to move and found he couldn’t. He was tied to something. Because he was sitting, he guessed a chair.

  The person stopped beside him but whoever it was, said nothing. Instead, it was Horn who spoke. “You don’t know what you have done by kidnapping me. You’ll have people crawling up your ass so fast your head will spin.”

  Still, whoever was there remained silent. All the CIA man could hear were the voices outside. Then the door opened, and a man spoke. “I can’t believe you did this. I really can’t. And now you’ve involved me in it.”

  A second man said, “This is all to do with national security. We need to know what they’re up to. If they’re willing to try and kill me, then who is next?”

  “I don’t like it.”

  “Well, it’s done. Get the hood off him.”

  The hood came away, and Horn blinked, trying to adjust his vision to the light. The first person he saw was one of the men who’d taken him from his vehicle. He stared hard at him and snapped, “You won’t get away with this, asshole.”

  “Shut up, Paul, you’re in enough trouble as it is.”

  Horn shifted his gaze, and it settled on Frank Clavell, the speaker of the house. His eyes widened further when he saw Hank Jones. “What the fuck is this? Untie me right now. You two are both screwed over this.”

  Jones glanced at Hunt and nodded. The SEAL back-handed Horn across the face and stepped back.

  Immediately, Horn tasted blood in his mouth as the inside of his cheek was sliced by his teeth. Clavell opened his mouth to protest, but before he could, Jones stepped forward and snarled, “Listen to me, asshole. You are so fucked right now; it’s a wonder you can walk straight. So, let me tell you how this goes. We’ll ask you questions, and you will answer them. Every time you refuse, our friend here is going to hit you. If that don’t work, he’ll start shooting you, and so on and so on. But don’t think that he won’t, because he will. This man has bled more blood for his country than you ever did. And right now, you and all your other conspirators are a threat to all he believes in. Understand?”

  “Fuck you, Jones.”

  Hunt stepped in and landed a crunching blow to Horn’s jaw. Not enough to knock him out, but sufficient to rattle him good and proper.

  Jones said, “So to save on time, let me tell you what we already know. You sanctioned an illegal CIA op on American soil. That’s bad right there, wouldn’t you say, Mr. Speaker?”

  “Yes, I’d have to agree there.”

  Jones continued. “And that illegal op was to kill a Pakistani reporter named, Hafeez Jiskani. Just plain murder it was. Because you found out that he was coming into the country and using the biker gang to get him in. That was why you had Newcomb, your best man, put your agent in there. That was so she could warn you when the time was right. But in the process, either she or Newcomb found out that we had a man in there too, so the son of a bitch burned him. It was just lucky that the rest of the team was on hand or he would have been dead.”

  Horn just stared straight ahead.

  “So, you had Hafeez Jiskani killed because he had footage of a drone strike that went awry, killing thirty school children. But this is where things get a little mixed up. Why kill him? Air strikes have gone astray before. Then you put a termination order out on one of Thurston’s team. Why?”

  “Because he went off the reservation,” Horn snapped.

  “But then you try and have the rest of them killed. Even fly in Bull Horton’s team especially for the job.”

  “How do you know?” Horn blurted out.

  “I’m chairman of the joint chiefs. I have eyes and ears everywhere.”

  Horn went silent again.

  “Let’s break it down. We’ll start with Jiskani. Why did you have him killed?”

  No answer.

&nb
sp; Whack!

  “Why did you have him killed?”

  No answer.

  Hunt stepped forward again.

  “Wait!” Horn said hurriedly.

  “Talk,” Jones snapped.

  “Jiskani had to go because no one could look too deep at the missile that was used. It was a new experimental one from Black Shield. It was an unofficial test. The official test was meant to happen a week later at an undisclosed test site. But Drake and Forth couldn’t wait. They wanted it tested yesterday. When it all went south, the trial was pulled so the issues could be fixed. I sent a cleanup crew into the area to make it all go away. It was then that we found out about Jiskani taking the video. The missile had several obvious components which were different and if something survived the explosion and was caught on the feed, then it couldn’t be seen.”

  Jones snorted. “The thing is, the video you got, the one he was killed for, wasn’t the only one. Our tech did some digging and found another. It must have been a copy. So, you killed him for nothing.”

  “Shit.”

  “Yes, shit. Now, what about the team?”

  Horn looked at both men. “Before I go on, I want a deal.”

  “That depends on what you give us. You could tell us first, and we’ll consider your request, or I can get my man to beat the shit out of you, and we’ll get it that way. Make your choice.”

  Another sigh came from Horn. “The connection was made that if news of the missile got out, then Poland wouldn’t go through with the missile defense contract. It wasn’t until after the negotiations had started that we found out about his other activities.”

  “Wow, the CIA fucked up. That would be a first,” Clavell’s voice dripped with sarcasm.

  “Keep going,” Jones snapped.

  “Anyhow, Drake wasn’t about to back out of the deal. It was worth too much. He offered me ten million to keep it quiet. And Forth wanted the deal to go ahead because he’d set it up, and if it all went south, he could say goodbye to the Whitehouse. Then that stupid kid of Marek’s dropped a tab in that girl’s drink, and she died. From then on it was a matter of trying to keep it all quiet. But your boy wouldn’t let it go.”