Smoke and Shadow (21 page)

BOOK: Smoke and Shadow

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He held up his
hand in a silent signal to stop. He felt Trent
’
s body freeze. Their tight formation
gave Chu the sensation of his partner riding on his back. With one
hand aiming the muzzle of his weapon down and away, Chu reached for
his belt and unspooled the fiber optic cable wrapped around his
waist.

He
didn
’
t look down
the hall or back the way he came. He trusted Trent to watch his
back and could feel his partner move his head and shoulders to scan
the corridor. Chu concentrated on slipping the thin pinhole lens
underneath the door and glancing at the small monitor attached to
the inside of his wrist.

The image on the
screen shifted from light to dark before Chu could see his target.
His only warning before the door slammed inward and the sounds of
gunfire filled the corridor was the creak of the turning doorknob.
Chu never saw his killer. He only heard the soft crack of
Trent
’
s suppressed
weapon firing into the room over his head and felt several rounds
hit him in his shoulder, stomach and hip. Chu fell backwards,
writhing in pain and cursing himself.

“
Your auditory
signature was fifteen decibels above tolerance for these types of
walls.
”
Baker
tried to be even and nonjudgmental in his assessment, but Chu could
hear the disappointment through the electronic crackle in his
ear.
“
You need to
be twelve to eighteen inches from the door frame prior to entry. If
you stack up against the wall, the drag of your clothing will give
you away.
”

“
Understood
”
Trent answered with enthusiasm, even though it was Chu who
made the mistake.

“
Move to
position twenty three, same formation, same
drill.
”

Chu bounced back
to his feet and recoiled his camera.
“
Moving.
”
The level of energy in his speech
didn
’
t match the
vigor of his motion.

Chu enjoyed
training. The idea of waking up in the middle of the night, driving
to the backwoods of Eastern Pennsylvania and being shot with
simulated 9mm rounds didn
’
t thrill him, but working with Trent
did. The two men were outside the kill house before dawn preparing.
They tested their load outs, reviewed their engagement protocols
and walked through dry runs before moving into the kill
house.

The coordinated
rhythm they shared in Iraq didn
’
t come back all at once. Each of
them had continued to train and hone their skills separately since
Nightwatch disbanded, but combining their individual patterns into
a seamless dance required practice. They didn
’
t move into the kill house until
mid-morning, when a familiar fluidity began to replace the rust of
disuse.

Chu made a signal to stop and
positioned himself away from the wall. The snake went under the
door and he took his time to scan all four corners of the room.
Without turning his head or pointing his weapon away from the door,
Chu held up his hand and gave a series of rapid signals to
Trent:

I see four
hostiles, two pistols left, one pistol right, one shotgun
right.

Trent
’
s
silent squeeze on his shoulder let Chu know he understood. He put
the camera away and reached back, squeezing
Trent
’
s ankle as a
signal to move.

Trent moved
without a sound. He got in front of Chu with a low compact profile,
twisted the door handle and entered the room in one motion. Chu
went in a few inches behind to both limit their exposure in the
fatal funnel of the doorway and cover the side of the room Trent
couldn
’
t see.
Trent moved left, firing as he cleared the doorway. Chu moved
right, firing two rounds into the hard corner before sweeping the
barrel of his suppressed weapon left to put three more rounds into
the cross corner.

The red marking
compound of the rounds formed tight groups on the chest and
stomachs of the men in the room. Both Chu
’
s men dropped to their knees, the
signal they were
‘
dead
’
and
eliminated from the exercise.

Then Chu realized
one of his men wasn
’
t a man at all. She wore the same black overalls as the rest
of the men acting as Fu Ching gang members. She had the same
protective gear on her face, hands and head to keep her from being
injured by the simunitions. But she stood several inches below the
rest of the opposition and she had a three inch
“
C
”
on her left shoulder, right next to the two red
stains Chu just gave her.

“
Please stop
shooting the civilians.
”
Baker sighed into their ears.
“
I would appreciate a little
discretion when you send your rounds down range.
Let
’
s move to
position twenty four. Switch formation, same
drill.
”

Chu fell in behind Trent and
reloaded his SIG. Where did Baker get off talking about discretion?
What kind of discretion did he use when he decided to ask his
friends to take on a mission without proper support or
resources?

Trent positioned
himself near the next door and pulled out his own snake cam. Chu
scanned the hallway for threats. Baker had the kill house modified
to resemble other slave houses raided in the past by the FBI, MI5
and Hong Kong
’
s
SDU. How much did all this cost? How much time, effort and blood
did Baker waste on one woman? What could possibly justify this kind
of expense? Was she some Helen of Troy who deserved this level of
sacrifice to get into her pants?

Trent gave Chu
the signal. Chu squeezed his leg in response. How could he blame
Baker for what he did? He was a man after all and men chased women.
They didn
’
t care
what they spent or who got hurt in the process. But Chu
didn
’
t chase
women. So why did he stay? Why did he wake up in the middle of the
night and put himself through all this to risk his life for someone
so
…

Chu opened the door and turned on
the ball of his foot. His weapon was up and level with his
shoulder. The hard corner in front of him was clear of threats at
eye level.

But he
didn
’
t see the man
lying on the ground under his field of vision. He only felt the
simunition rounds catch him, once in the groin and once in the
heart.

“
Let
’
s take a
break people.
”
Baker didn
’
t
try to hide his frustration.
“
Smoke, can you meet me in the
manager
’
s
office?
”

Chu slid the safety on his gun and
holstered it without looking at the other men in the room. Trent
gave him a supportive pat on the shoulder, but Chu could only feel
the weight of anxiety and failure.

Chapter Eight: Cost of Goods Sold

“
So
what
’
s on your
mind, Smoke?
”

Baker sat in the management office
of the DMZ Training Academy as if he owned the place. The deep red
tie and gold tie bar seemed out of place against the backdrop of
combat photos and shooting trophies against the wall, but
everything felt out of place to Chu at this point.

“
I guess
I
’
m just shaking
off some rust.
”

“
You
’
re not
paying attention to yourself or your environment.
You
’
re ignoring
signals from your teammate and walking through the kill house in a
fog. Your errors aren
’
t physical, they
’
re mental. Your mind
’
s not in the game because
you
’
re thinking
about something else. So what is it?
”

“
It
’
s
nothing. I just need a couple more trips through the house
to
…”

“
We
don
’
t have many
more trips left. This is the last dry run before we go live. If
you
’
re head
isn
’
t in the game
now, it
’
s never
going to be.
”

“
I can do the
op.
”

“
I know you can
do it. What I don
’
t know is why you don
’
t just fucking do it. Every time I
turn around you
’
re
fighting me or trying to shut this down
…”

“
I
just don
’
t know
what this is about.
”

“
Since when does
a shooter need to know why? You know who, where, when and how. You
know how to get in and how to get out. At what point did the big
picture become important to you?
”

“
When the job
stopped making sense, when you start to ignore tactics and
tradecraft for a questionable objective, when you decide to throw
your friends into the fire over a woman.
”

Chu
’
s last
words made Baker pause. The two men locked eyes for a moment before
Baker shook his head. The look on his face became a stone mask of
rejection.
“
If you
think this is about a woman, you need to pack up your gear and walk
away.
”

Chu felt his own
head shaking in a futile attempt to take back his last
words.
“
If
it
’
s not about a
woman, then tell me what it
’
s about.
”

Baker
’
s body
didn
’
t move at
all. If anything, his frame took on the closed rigidity of his
gaze.
“
If you
think I
’
d treat
you that way after all the shit we
’
ve seen, you need to get the fuck
out.
”

“
I need to know
who she is and why she
’
s so important.
”

“
Are you jealous?
”

The question hit
him like a slap across the face.
“
What the fuck are you talking
about?
”

“
Does the idea
of me throwing money and effort into a woman and ignoring you piss
you off? You feel like I
’
m rejecting you for some random
pussy?
”

Chu
couldn
’
t stop his
upper lip from trembling as he lashed out.
“
Fuck you, Warren.
Don
’
t try to turn
this into some homophobic bullshit. I don
’
t give a damn who you fuck or what
your crippled ass does when I
’
m not around. If you
don
’
t have the
balls to tell me the truth about this op, fine. But
don
’
t try to flip
this on me and try to turn your bad op into my desperate boy crush.
You
’
re not nearly
as cute as you think you are.
”