Project StrikeForce (20 page)

“I’m not surprised,” Hobert said, raising an
eyebrow, “but I prefer skepticism. That way I’m rarely disappointed. And,
occasionally, pleasantly surprised.”

Area 51

ric waited for Deion in the
infirmary. “How’s the arm?” he asked when Deion entered.

Deion grunted as Doctor Elliot and Nurse Tulli
inspected the wound on his arm. Deion kept pulling away. “They stitched me up
in Kandahar,” he protested.

Doctor Elliot smiled. “We’re going to inject
something to kick off the healing process.”

Nurse Tulli pulled a large syringe from a drawer,
then a bottle of a clear liquid from a refrigerated container.

Deion watched the needle, his eyes wide. “That’s
big enough for an elephant,” he said.

Nurse Tulli chuckled. “Just relax. You’ll feel a
little pinch.” Deion gritted his teeth as she stuck the needle in his arm and
plunged the contents into the muscle. “The wound looks clean. I can get you
something for the pain, if you’d like.”

Deion smiled. “I’m man enough to accept it. Tough
guys like Wise, they’d probably just fight through it.”

Elliot left and Nurse Tulli brought Deion a paper
cup with some pills and a glass of water. “Take these. Come back in twelve
hours and we’ll change the dressing.”

She left them alone in the infirmary. “Look at
this, matching scars,” Eric said. He lifted his right arm to show the bandaged
pad across his bicep.

“That happen in Denver?”

“Double ought buckshot, right through the fatty
part.”

“Hurt?”

“Not bad. You should see the other guy. Took the
rest of it in his face and shoulder.”

Deion winced. “Messy way to go.”

“Yeah. By the way, I’m not that tough. This
bandage has some kind of painkiller in it,” Eric said, grinning.

 Deion laughed, then grimaced in pain. “Tell me
about Denver.”

 Eric broke it down, the empty storage unit, the
Rusty Bucket, the final encounter with Dyer and the police encounter that
followed.

“The cops fell for that?” Deion asked. “Homeland
security?”

Eric shrugged. “Why not. We actually have DHS
people on the payroll. It gets messy, though. Every encounter like that means
more potential exposure. Smith doesn’t like it.”

Deion shook his head. “I can imagine. So, what
have you found since?”

Eric sighed in frustration. “Nothing. Karen’s been
searching, but we’ve come up with a big, fat goose-egg.”

Deion rolled his eyes. “How can a truck full of
caesium disappear?”

Eric wondered the same thing. “No idea. We did
another drone overfly of Denver. It’s gone.”

Deion considered it for a moment. “You think Los
Angeles?”

“That’s the million dollar question. Was that what
Dyer was hinting?”

Deion rolled his eyes. “Or was he just nuts.”

“That crossed my mind,” Eric said, “but we have to
do
something
. I’ve got drones flying a search path between Denver and
Los Angles, plus a couple of DHS VIPR teams on the ground.”

“Not a lot to go on,” Deion said. “How did John
handle himself?”

“Good. He hesitated after the storage yard. I
wasn’t sure, for a minute, but he did really well at the bar. Saved my ass.
And, with Dyer?” He gave Deion a hard look. “He’s scary as hell. Think about
it. The guy’s body is like a machine. He hammered that door in. When Dyer took
his thumb off the button, John hit us like a runaway truck. I’ve never seen
anything like it. The process worked, Deion. He’s a human weapon.”

Deion grunted, his face skeptical.

“You still don’t trust him?” Eric asked.

“I didn’t say that,” Deion countered. “Think about
it. How do we know what all those drugs did to him? What about the
brainwashing?”

“It wasn’t brainwashing, it was memory
replacement.”

Deion rolled his eyes again. “Bullshit. Call it
what you want, but we messed with his mind. If he ever remembers, we have to
put him down. I know you’re excited that your pet psychopath is up to snuff,
but he’s still a murderer.”

“I haven’t forgotten,” he said quietly. “How could
I? I’m just saying, the project worked. StrikeForce is a success.”

“It was one mission,” Deion said. “You ready to
send him out on his own?”

“No,” Eric admitted.

“Yeah, well, I’ll be happier once he’s got a few
more missions under his belt.”

“We have to give it time. He’s hitting his mark.”
Then it dawned on him. “But that’s not what you want to talk about, is it?
You’re avoiding something.”

“You read the reports from Kandahar?” Deion asked.

“I did.”

“Yeah, well, thanks. For everything. You saved our
lives. No joke.” Deion scowled. “We were screwed.”

“I’m just glad you made it.” Watching the drone
feed as the fighters approached, Eric wished nothing more than to be there with
them. He worked frantically to take control of the CIA drone, earning the ire
of the CIA’s Director of Clandestine Services as well as JSOC. The OTM didn’t
usually have such direct involvement, but Eric wasn’t about to let Deion and
Nancy die, especially if there a way he could save them.

“Yeah,” Deion said, “thanks to you.” He bit his
lip, then spit out the words. “It wouldn’t have happened if Nancy hadn’t pissed
all over Rumple.”

Eric nodded. “That’s it.”

“Yeah,” Deion said. “I know she’s Smith’s
daughter, and I like the Old Man. I respect him. Nancy is…she provoked Rumple.
She’s a ball buster. You want to know something else? She scares me. Sometimes
it’s like there’s nobody home. At least John had a reason for being a psychotic
nutjob, she’s just—”

Eric cleared his throat. “That’s a little strong,
don’t you think?”

“She was good in the fight, that’s for damn sure,
but I don’t trust her. She’s unstable. She could have got Neil and Val killed.”

“What can I do?” Eric asked. “She’s the Old Man’s
daughter.”

Deion nodded. “You’re stuck, man. I don’t envy you
one bit.”

* * *

Eric and Deion joined Nancy, Karen,
and Sergeant Clark in the briefing room. Karen had a line of empty paper coffee
cups in front of her and Sergeant Clark lectured her about potential caffeine
addiction.

“It’s not like I drink a lot,” she protested,
tapping her fingers against the tabletop. “Maybe six cups a day. Or eight.”

“Those are twenty-ounce cups,” Clark retorted.
“That’s a lot of coffee.”

“I’ve built up a tolerance,” Karen muttered under
her breath.

Nancy watched the exchange, stone-faced, turning
to greet Deion and Erick with a nod.

“Let’s get started,” Eric said. “We’ve all had a
chance to read the reports. What do we know?”

Deion nodded to Nancy. “You first.”

“The contact hanged himself,” Nancy said.
“Abdullah inspires loyalty, we know that. He’s smart. AQ respects the hell out
of him. The local Taliban, not so much. His target was someone in FOB Wildcat,
not the drone program. I think there’s an obvious answer. Abdullah was a CIA
asset. Any disagreement?”

“I’ve been digging through the records on the CIA
agents, Trevino and Wiggins,” Clark said. “It was definitely Trevino. He spent
time there in the eighties. I’ve requested the paper files be sent here,
they’re still gathering them.”

“Paper files,” Karen said with disgust. “It’s like
the stone age.”

Clark sighed. “Case reports were filed on paper
because that’s all they had access to in the mountains. Plus, Trevino ran a lot
of missions off-book. I’d be surprised if we find anything. You have to
remember, not everyone thought arming the Mujahideen was a good idea. Trevino
funneled a lot of weapons and supplies, most of it untraceable. Let’s say he
taught those men to make IED’s. Let’s say he found a very motivated student,
maybe he develops a friendship. Maybe he gets this guy into the US after the
war. No idea what happens then, until 2002. Suddenly, there’s an explosion of
high quality bombs in Iraq and Afghanistan. Remote triggers, cell phone
activated, instruction and schematics popping up all over. Someone very gifted
is writing it all down and distributing it.”

“That’s a stretch,” Deion said, “but it fits.”

“I agree,” Eric said. “It’s a working theory. So,
FOB Wildcat was personal, something with Trevino. Koshen claimed Trevino killed
his wife. Revenge is a damn good motivator.”

Nancy turned to him. “Who cares about his
motivations? I just want to find him and kill him.”

Deion shrugged. “She’s got a point.”

“Maybe so,” Clark agreed. “What indication do we
have that he’s not in Pakistan?”

“There’s been no chatter,” Karen said. “No
intercepts. They’re talking about the bombing, and there’s chatter about this
kid, Koshen, but nothing about Abdullah.”

Eric sighed. They lacked info. They had no idea
whether he was still in Afghanistan, or what his next move might be. Drone
overflights near the border showed how porous the Pakistan-Afghanistan border
really was. If Abdullah was traveling light, or even alone, he would be
impossible to track.

A quick motorcycle trip and Abdullah would be
across the border in Pakistan where the ISI and AQ would shelter him. Or, he
could still be in Afghanistan, in a hidey-hole carved into the mountains. Eric
had seen the caves first hand, some dating back to the Soviet occupation, some
dating back to the English occupation one hundred years earlier. No, if
Abdullah went to ground in the mountains, there would be no finding him.

“Without any more to go on,” he said, “we have to
assume he’s holed up. How’s security right now?”

Deion grunted. “Safety there is an illusion, man.
You know that. The Army is stretched thin. There’s a joint op between the CIA
and Delta looking for the bomber. Are we going to give up the intel? They’re
working blind right now.”

“Give them the intel,” Nancy said. “We know it
wasn’t targeted at the drone.” She glared at everyone around the table. “This
is a JSOC problem, not an Office problem.”

“I disagree,” Eric said. “There’s no direct threat
to the drone program, but what if he strikes again?”

Nancy frowned. “The purpose of the Office is to
protect the country from threats that require action that no other agency can
provide or has jurisdiction for. We can’t be everywhere. It’s not within our
purview.”

Clark jumped in. “We all know the mission, Nancy,
but what if he’s the next Bin Laden? What if we could stop him now? I’d say
that falls within our purview. We should run it up the ladder.”

Eric could tell that Nancy wasn’t going to drop
it. “Look, I’m the CO, so it’s my responsibility to take it to the Old Man.
Thanks for your input. I’d like the room. Nancy, if you could stay?”

They left, single file, Deion giving him a long
glance on the way out.

He was alone with Nancy, who sat facing him, not
quite meeting his eye.

“You’re angry,” he said, “and I don’t know why.”

“Keeping me after school? You don’t agree with my
assessment, so you’ll go to my father?” she spat out.

“That wasn’t why I kept you, but let’s start there.
I don’t think it’s a good idea to drop Abdullah into JSOC’s hands. You do.
That’s okay, we can disagree. The Old Man makes the decision. I’m taking it to
him because while I may be the CO, he’s the Director. If you have a problem
with your father, take it up with him.”

She leaned forward, her face red. “Wait, if it
wasn’t that, then what the fuck do you want to talk to me about?”

“What happened at Bagram?” he asked.

“Bagram? We were attacked in Kandahar.”

“You did well in Kandahar. Do you know what the
odds are of a few soldiers holding off an AQ attack like that? Even trained
Special Forces? Burch and Simon weren’t prepared for anything like that, not
even Deion. They’re spies, not soldiers. It should never have come to that.”

She glared at him. “So, that’s it? Deion told
you?”

“He didn’t have to tell me. Why else would Rumple
have pulled Delta? What did you say to him?”

“Nothing to justify that. He’s an asshole!”

“He may be,” Eric admitted, “but you pushed him.”

Nancy kicked back in her chair, face flushed.
“Maybe I did.”

“You did or you didn’t. Which is it?”

She shrugged. Tears rolled from her eyes, and she
rubbed at them. “You want me to say it? I pushed him. I shouldn’t have, but I
couldn’t stop myself.”

He watched her lip tremble but he had no idea what
to do. He was never good at dealing with female emotions. “You made a mistake.
It’s okay.”

She sat up straight. “Do you think I’m crying
because I’m sad? It’s a normal reaction to anger and stress. Do you know what
I’m feeling? I’m pissed. Sometimes I do shit and I don’t know why. I’ve got
anger problems, I try and keep it under control, but sometimes…. I don’t know
why I let Rumple push my buttons. I wanted to put a bullet in his head. And
then, after the combat, I was so horny I almost jumped Deion on the trip home.
If his arm hadn’t been bandaged up, I would have fucked him silly in the back
of the plane.”

That was more information than Eric expected. “I
don’t even know how to respond to that.”

She leaned forward, grimacing. “Look, I know
that’s a normal reaction, too. I mean, Deion’s not even my type. The anger and
the sexual frustration, it’s all just after-effects from the firefight.” She
continued rubbing at her eyes. “Since I’m baring my soul, might as well go all
the way. Do you even know why you’re here?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, of all the Operators, why did my father
pick you? You weren’t the best. Why you?”

Eric hated to admit it, but the thought
had
crossed his mind. “You know why?”

“I have my suspicions,” she said. “You think
outside the box, sometimes. You don’t get personally involved in your missions.
You’re committed and focused, but you’re also single.”

“My mother is still alive.”

“I don’t mean anything by this, but your Mom is
gone. She’s a shell of the woman you knew.”