Hi-jacked / FRW
AN: I own nothing from the show Covert Affairs. I just like playing with their characters. I owe a huge thank you to Gwynne, AleciaB, and Patricia Louise for their help with this story. I experimented with the concept of having exactly one POV all through the story. Annie's. I liked it. I think it enabled the story to be tighter and more focused. I ended up deviating from it for an indispensable scene where she wasn't involved and having someone tell her about it would have been really awkward. That one scene doesn't happen till around chapter 14. I also experimented, in chapter 4, with internal dialog, in Annie's head of course. I really enjoyed writing this story. I hope you do too.
Prologue
8:00 AM Day 4, Hallway outside of the civilian conference room, Langley, VA:
Annie approached the doorway into the conference room with trepidation. She'd been 'dead' for five months. She'd learned that Auggie had picked up the phone with great reluctance and told her sister Annie was dead just minutes after Calder had shot her in the elevator. Now Danielle was in the conference room; she expected either Calder Michaels or Joan Campbell to arrive and ask for her help with some final details related to her dead sister. Calder had shown Annie a picture of Danielle standing beside Auggie at her grave while the urn containing her ashes was lowered into the hole.
Danielle had boxed up her sister's belongings to be placed in storage. Auggie and Calder had told her they had to be saved for seven years in case there was evidence in them that needed to be retrieved. Her sister had been told she had died a traitor: a disgraced and humiliated agent who had forced another CIA operative to shoot her in self-defense. Annie couldn't imagine what had gone through Danielle's mind all these months or what she had told Chloe and Katia. It must have been devastating for all of them. Annie loved her sister and nieces beyond words, and yet she'd visited all this suffering on them.
She almost turned around, but Calder's words echoed in her head, "You can't be Annie Walker ever again unless you tell Danielle." She took a deep breath, exhaled, pushed the door open, and walked into the room.
Her soft rubber soled boots had made her approach silent. When she first saw her, Danielle stood at the window and gazed into the gray of the sky with the saddest, most forlorn expression Annie had ever seen on her face. It made Annie want to cry. Instead, she said, softly, "You can't see Venus in the daylight."
Chapter 1
Resurrection Isn't For Wimps - Part 1
11:30 PM Hong Kong Time, Day 0, Civilian yacht, 120 miles off the China coast in the South China Sea:
Annie decided the yacht must be close to the carrier group. The helmsman had called Annie to take a look at the radar. They could see a hard return from several ships spread out over five or six miles right at the edge of the radar's twenty mile useful range. For the last hour, they'd been aware of a helicopter shadowing them in the dark. They could hear it, but they hadn't seen it, and it apparently had no lights on it.
Annie's burner phone rang. She tapped the screen to answer the call but said nothing. An unfamiliar voice said, "Identify."
Unsure of how to answer she took a chance and replied with her old code name, "Matrix."
She was relieved when the voice replied, "Protocol Directive 4230."
Annie thought for a second, and then replied with a code she hadn't used in almost two years, "Clover."
That, too, was apparently the correct reply because the voice said, "Stop the boat now"
Annie turned to the helmsman and shouted over the deep bass thrumming of the engines, "Please stop the boat." He immediately pulled the throttle levers back, then nursed them back forward to ease the boat through an uncomfortable forward surge while the stern wave washed under it and then eased the throttles back to idle, then slid the transmission levers to neutral and let the boat settle in the water. Scanning quickly around she could see they were fortunate. There was almost no wind and the ocean was relatively calm with long easy swells of maybe five or six feet that caused the boat to rock, but gently, once it had stopped.
Mindful of how far off shore they were, Annie asked the captain, "Are you able to kill the engines without causing damage?"
"I'd rather not. The turbochargers are really heat soaked after this six-hour run at max cruise, and I don't want to cook the oil in their bearings. I usually let them idle for at least ten or fifteen minutes to prevent that."
"Okay, let them idle. We need to listen for them to hail us."
The voice on the phone continued, "Turn on your deck lights. You will be approached by a rubber boat that has three Navy Seals aboard. They will identify as Red 1. You are call sign Matrix. Do as they say. They have your picture with dyed hair."
She replied, "WILCO." The call ended. She turned to the helmsman and said, "Please turn on the deck lights. A rubber boat with three Navy Seals will approach. They will identify themselves as Red 1. I'll board their boat, and then you are to immediately return to Hong Kong."
He looked at her, flipped on the deck lights which destroyed most of her night vision and then said simply, "Good luck."
She rewarded him with her first smile since she boarded and said, "Thank you for the ride."
He nodded and turned to check the gages for the twin CAT Diesels.
A few minutes later, they were flooded with a bobbing light. Annie heard a voice, amplified by a loud hailer, say, "Matrix, this is Red 1."
Annie cautiously stepped over to the port side to clearly see the smaller vessel about fifty yards away. It looked like a rubber boat with three Seals in wetsuits aboard might look, so she waved and shouted in acknowledgement, "This is Matrix."
She saw the person near the middle of the rubber boat hold up an megaphone of some sort and heard him say, "Matrix, we'll come along your port side amidships. Prepare to jump down into this boat."
Unsure if they could hear a reply, she climbed over the railing to put herself outside it about amidships where the boat didn't go up and down like it did in the bow and stern. A few seconds later, the rubber boat pulled alongside. It shifted several feet with the relative motion of the two boats, but they kept the light aimed so it didn't blind her, and so she could clearly see them and the boat. Their hands were empty. They had weapons, but they were set aside. The voice said, "Let me see your feet." She held out a foot; the light shone on it and illuminated her flat-soled boots. Apparently they were satisfactory because she was told, "Jump for the middle of the boat."
She saw what looked like an orange target slightly forward of the man with the megaphone, judged her moment, let go of the railing and stepped out to take the six-foot drop straight down. She landed and collapsed with a muted cry of pain. Her body had sustained some injuries that had been initially hidden by the effects of adrenaline, but they'd made themselves known during the long boat ride and definitely hadn't responded well to landing in the boat. She converted her landing into a partial shoulder roll that ended up against one side of the boat to avoid one point in the boat or her body taking the full impact. She waited a few seconds until the pain subsided and sat up with the aid of a couple of hands on her upper arms to steady her. The boat accelerated smoothly away from the yacht. The acceleration was smooth; the motion of the rubber boat wasn't.
The two men instantly let her go and kept their hands empty, palms facing her when she maneuvered her body so that if she had to she had access to her gun. The tall lanky one moved to the bow. She glanced at each of the three men to get a quick appraisal and asked, "Who are you and where are you taking me?"
The one closest to her said, just loud enough for her to hear, "Seal Team 3. I'm Command Master Chief Jed Peters. The driver is Chief Maxwell; the bowman is Petty Officer First Class Lewis. Our assignment is to escort and protect you until we can hand you over to the CIA at Kadena Air Force Base in Okinawa. Are you injured, Ma'am?"
Annie ignored his question and asked, "Am I under arrest?"
"No! Absolutely not. We are your security team. We were told you are a high level operative to be treated as a VIP. We are not to restrain you in any way and not to search you. If you need something, anything, we're to figure out how to provide it. If anybody tries to harm you, we are to do whatever is necessary to prevent it. Lethal force is authorized to protect you. And along with those instructions, we were told the toughest part of this whole assignment - we are to ask you no questions not related to your well-being. Ma'am, are you injured?"
While he answered her first question, Annie took advantage of the moment to do a quick assessment of the men she'd quite literally jumped into the boat with. She only had a few seconds to take advantage of the yacht's lights. CIA approbation was enough to get her in the boat, her personal assessment dictated how she'd relate to them. She looked closely at Master Chief Peters; he was the closest to her and crouched between her and the Seal driving the boat. She didn't like having the third one behind her but went ahead with her assessment anyway. His eyes were gunfighter grey but not unkind. There were wrinkles around them that suggested a tendency to smile. His face didn't shine in the night, so she presumed he had a tan, and his hair was slightly long and unruly for a service man, but she'd heard the Seals did that. The tight fitting wet suit left no doubt his build was not unlike an extremely fit, more compact, brown haired version of Auggie. She knew there would be deceptive strength and agility, but he also moved with a bit of caution. There were some hard miles on him. There was nothing closed or suggestive of deception about his posture, facial expression or gestures. She could sense he knew she was armed, and as her gaze flicked back and forth between them, all three appeared to go out of their way to avoid simulating anything resembling a hostile response from her. His hands were empty, ungloved and open in front of her. So were the hands of the man in the bow. The driver had his hands full of wheel and throttle.
She liked what she saw of Peters direct gaze, the fact that he looked her in the eye and didn't slide his eyes over her like he was sizing her up. There was a genuine curiosity in his gaze, but that was entirely natural given the circumstances and his position of command. A stark white scar that looked like the remains of an old knife slash cut across the lower part of his left cheek and continued into his neck. Annie would be willing to bet money that a heck of a story went along with it. She made a conscious decision to accept him and what he said at face value subject to continuing evaluation.
Her assessment of Chief Peters had taken two or three seconds. She shifted her gaze quickly to Chief Maxwell. He had his face toward her where he sat at the console, surprisingly aft in the boat, that held the wheel and the throttle. His gaze was focused forward on the surface of the ocean, and she could feel the boat move in accordance with his input to the wheel. He'd clearly done this before and drove the boat forward at a heart stopping rate but with practiced ease. She could see his lips moving now and then as if he was talking to someone, and then she noticed the throat microphone on both him and Chief Peters. That discovery was reassuring.
Returning her study to Maxwell after the quick glance to find the throat microphone on Peters, she could tell in the rapidly diminishing light from the receding yacht that he was African American, and he was slightly overdue for a haircut. His abundant black hair was trying hard to curl as it grew out from the regulation crew cut. What she could see of his body in the skin tight wetsuit looked huge, well muscled, and fit as an NFL line backer. His hands on the controls of the boat were large and powerful as they moved deftly in response to each wave's direction and power. He might have made his own assessment of her, but his glance didn't land on her during the few seconds she spent sizing him up. She liked that. Two in the okay category.
She instantly swiveled her glance to the bow in the now near total darkness. The yacht had turned away from them and they were rocketing away from it. From the length of his torso and arms she guessed Lewis was tall for a Seal at maybe 6' or a little over. She could clearly see he was still young enough to be lanky, but it was obvious his shoulders were solid and if the contours of the wetsuit were any clue, both long and heavily muscled. Despite the serious nature of their mission, he offered her a smile when he was introduced and held up his free hand in greeting. Annie noticed that the tip of his left ring finger was missing. It was quite dark but she could see how bright and white his face was, even compared to Peters. She concluded he was probably too fair to really tan. She couldn't tell his hair or eye color, but if she had to guess, she'd go with red hair. She was reminded by the scars and wounds that these were people, much like herself, they were self propelled evidence that they had chosen to serve country over self.
Her assessment completed, result at least tentatively favorable, she decided to answer his question about her well being truthfully. "Yes, but nothing requiring immediate attention." She paused while she processed the information. "Thanks for picking me up. Please call me Matrix. What's the plan to get me to Okinawa?"
She could see Peters stance change to indicate some relief that she'd chosen to answer when he came right back with, "We'll be boarding a destroyer in about half-an-hour. We'll go by chopper from that to the carrier. Sometime later, we will go from the carrier to Kadena in a C2A. That's a twin-engine, turboprop, logistics supply plane. I tried to get you a backseat in an F18, but that was turned down by your agency as attracting too much attention and, believe it or not, too vulnerable. Kadena is about a three hour ride in the turboprop. It vibrates, and it's noisy, but it's reliable as gravity. We are to turn you over to a CIA representative at Kadena after making sure he or she really are CIA. That's where our assignment ends."
"How will you know they are really CIA?"
"I was told we would both know the person meeting us. That it's someone I trust and that you would trust with your life."
She said, "Thanks. I've no idea who we might know in common, but that's a good answer." She brought herself back to her immediate predicament and asked, "Where do you want me to sit?"
"There really isn't any place that's going to be either dry or comfortable, if you have bruised ribs, but if you sit on that seat you will find two handholds, and that will be better than in the puddle we will soon have. We bailed it so you wouldn't have to jump into it. There is a rough weather jacket with a hood on the other side of that seat. Undo the straps and put it on. You'll be both warmer and dryer. Sorry about the length of the ride, but the Admiral didn't want that yacht to get any closer to the fleet, just in case."
"I understand."
Annie moved carefully, the rubber boat with the outboard travelling at full throttle wasn't exactly a smooth ride over an ocean that suddenly seemed a lot rougher than it had when she was on the yacht. She thought the guard she'd fought had cracked a few ribs, but she could live with that. Maybe get them taped up on the carrier if there was time. She was pretty sure her entire body was Technicolor from bruises caused by the blows she'd received. At least she still had all her teeth and from what she could tell, no concussion.
The moonless night and her inability to predict the small boat's motion didn't help with getting the jacket on a body that was stiff and sore, but she managed. She timed her movements to the motion of the boat as it slid over the ocean swells. The more stable moments let her struggle into the jacket but were soon followed by quick grabs for support. She was grateful the Seals kept their hands to themselves. Not that she didn't believe them, but letting people in her space was really uncomfortable at the moment. She felt her spirits lift a little about twenty minutes later when she saw lights in the distance. She pointed towards them, "Chief, is that where we are going?"
He glanced at her pointed finger and shouted back, "The last set of lights off to starboard. Chief Maxwell is in communication with them. They have us on a converging course. They will be about where we are headed by the time we get there. They don't want us close to the carrier - it's too risky. The carrier won't stop or slow down. The destroyer will stop, which they purely hate to do in the open ocean, pick us up then play catch up." He paused then continued, "When we get there, we are supposed to keep you separate from the crew on the destroyer and the carrier. We are the only people you are to talk to. We do have permission for you to get medical attention. Watching you, I think you need it. We were told the isolation is for their protection, whatever that means."
Annie remained silent. She decided he'd continue on his own, which he did, "We'll take you to the helicopter hangar on the destroyer; it will have been cleared, and we'll wait there for the chopper from the carrier. Once we're on the carrier, we've arranged a private room where you can clean up and take a nap. Two of us will be outside your door at all times. Based on where we are now and when we're likely to get to the carrier, I think there will be about a six hour wait until the C2A takes off. If you wish, we'll get you a meal, a change of clothes and get yours cleaned. They have a full laundry on the carrier, and I'm pretty sure we can get your clothes through them and back to you in plenty of time."
"That would be good. They're pretty grubby. I'll need woman's medium or small pants - 26" waist, 28" inseam - with a good belt, under shirt, and a cover shirt one size too big. Men's small works for a shirt. No insignia."
"I know. They said you would be armed. We were told that's just fine with everybody. We certainly don't mind. But please don't broadcast that. Okay?"
"Roger that."
A few minutes later when they were on top of a swell she could make out the profile of a large ship, at least it looked huge from the rubber boat, still in the water. The Chief turned to her and said, "We'll sit in the bottom of the boat to keep the center of gravity as low as we can. They will lower a lift harness; we'll hook on, and they will lift this boat onto the deck with us in it. Sit in the bottom of the boat when they do that and try not to move so the boat stays as steady as it can during the hoist. Get a good hold; if this thing flips, you will be hanging by your hands. You can do that in your current condition, right?"
Annie said, "Yes, I can hang by my hands. No shoulder injuries. Do they flip often?"
"I've never been in one that has, but I know people that have."
"Got it."
Annie moved to sit in the cold puddle that sloshed in the bottom of the boat as they approached the side of the ship where there was a harness of some sort hanging down. It would dip in the water as the ship rolled. The three Seals worked together to quickly hook up the six lines to the boat during a dip and then dropped into the sloshing water with her. Chief Peters gave her a small smile then said, "Grab those handholds. You shouldn't need them, but you don't want to fall out if it gets rough"
She reached out and grabbed hold as he had instructed. She could tell he saw the bruising on her forearm where it extended out of the jacket because he said, "You need medical attention."
"Nothing serious, but if you have an experienced female medic on that carrier there are a couple of things I would like her to look at. I'm not bleeding and nothing major is broken. Just abrasions, contusions, maybe some cracked ribs and a lot of bruises. I'd like to prevent infection. I could also use some Tylenol - no narcotics or NSAIDS. I had a chance to walk off the adrenaline, but the cold and lack of movement is making me stiff."
"Got it." He took a look around, apparently saw they were swinging inboard and then continued, "Okay. They will lower us to the deck. We'll get out first, clear the area, and then signal you to climb down."
She repeated it back, "You'll dismount and clear the area. I follow on your signal." He looked relieved. He apparently had no idea what or who to expect when he was assigned to pick her up. But it probably wasn't the strangest assignment he'd had either. He was probably about her senior by four or five years, but, from how he moved, he had some hard miles on him. Welcome to the party, she thought.
The rest of the transfer to the carrier went as planned. The three Seals had left one at a time, shed the wet suits and returned in utility uniforms. They still had their handguns, now in tactical holsters, and M4s with an extra magazine each. She had a few moments of unease as the chopper lifted off: the image of the exploding chopper in Copenhagen replayed in her mind, but she managed to hang on and ride it out.
Chief Peters, more observant than she'd originally given him credit for, said, "Not all pleasant memories of chopper rides, I see." It wasn't a question.
She said, "That wasn't a question and," she smiled, "this isn't an answer. I wasn't on it, but I wasn't far away when the missile hit. Not forgettable."
"Roger that."
# # #
8:00 AM Hong Kong Time, Day 1, Carrier Deck in South China Sea, main cabin of the Grumman C2A:
Annie buckled herself into a seat on the Grumman C2A supply plane between Master Chief Peters and Chief Maxwell. She was wearing her cleaned clothes, had the benefit of several Tylenol, three hours of fitful sleep and some tape on her ribs. She'd apparently awoken screaming once because when she opened her eyes Peters and Maxwell were trying to wake her saying, "It's okay, Matrix. It's okay. You're safe."
She'd flinched, but they instantly released her, and she struggled to calm down. It took her a couple of minutes to get her breath back. Peters had said, "Matrix, we'll be right outside the door. We aren't going anyplace. There will never be less than two of us. We could hold off a platoon in that narrow passageway. You need anything, anything at all, just let us know, and we'll make it happen. But, given the nightmares you had, I'd put my gun out of reach before I went to sleep, if I were you."
She was able to relax a little and said, "Sorry guys. Don't mean to cause trouble. Not to worry, the gun is out of reach. I must feel safe here. The nightmares only happen when I think I'm safe. Never have them in the field." Even in her slightly groggy state, Annie was aware that her guards had found time to shower and change into clean uniforms. They somehow looked both more official and more like the dependable, tough-minded but friendly men she remembered from her 'Army brat' childhood.
Master Chief Peters said, "No problem. Get what sleep you can. I think you need it. We have Lewis at the end of this hallway, so nobody but us can hear you. But I thought you should know you were noisy and a little scary."
She'd replied, "I'll probably be okay for a couple of hours, and then I have to get up anyway."
When she'd arrived on the carrier, Annie had been surrounded by the Seals and escorted to a private room in officers' quarters on the carrier. It was apparently an empty room, or it had been completely cleared out to make a place for her. About five minutes after they arrived Peters knocked on the door and presented her with the clean clothes she's asked for. A private en suite was available. Mindful of boat protocols taught on The Farm, she had showered using as little water as she practically could and still get cleaned up, though she thought this carrier probably could make enough hot water for a small town.
Peters had been good as his word, and shortly there was a knock on the door. Annie cracked it and saw a trim dark haired female maybe a few inches taller than her with medical insignia and a small bag. She introduced herself as Commander Benson, one of the ship's trauma doctors. Annie let her in doing a quick assessment. She was somewhat plain looking but had bright intelligent eyes and gave off an aura of genuine concern for the health of others. Going over it later, Annie couldn't put her finger on what it was about this woman that led her to trust her almost instantly. But, soothed by the sense of trust, she mentally complemented Peter's on his choice of doctors.
When the doctor had completed a thorough examination of Annie, she took a seat across the room and expressed concern about the extensive bruising all over her body, particularly on Annie's abdomen, back, and ribs. The doctor was convinced that Annie had a couple of cracked but not broken ribs. When she had started to take notes Annie said, "Commander, please don't take any notes. I was never here, and you will never learn my name, so they are pointless. As long as I'm okay to travel, we can leave it at that."
The woman looked at her, sighed with resignation, and said, "You're one of them, aren't you?"
Despite her acceptance of the woman, Annie bristled a little and replied, "No idea who or what 'them' you are talking about. But I can't, and won't, tell you anything about myself."
That the doctor didn't take offense was obvious by her tone when she replied, "No problem. It's just that you are the first one of 'them' that's been female since I've been on board."
Annie softened her tone a little but still stuck to essentials when she replied, "I'm okay to travel, right?"
"Yes, but I'm going to recommend that you get to a hospital for x-rays and an abdominal CT scan within twenty-four hours to make sure there is no late developing organ damage and that you don't have any broken ribs that could puncture a lung. I'd like to do one right now. I'll wrap you up and give you some Tylenol to make you more comfortable. You've obviously engaged in hand-to-hand combat in the last couple of days. The bruises are different ages which implies multiple fights. Deep bruises like those on your torso are often accompanied by organ damage. At the moment there's no evidence of it, but don't wait too long - early diagnosis is your friend."
"Thanks. I'll take myself to a hospital first chance I get, which will probably be in two or three days."
"That's too long; you doubtless have a long flight ahead of you where medical access won't be possible, maybe for hours, if something flares up. Will you let Chief Peters bring you to sickbay? We have full facilities here, better than most hospitals. I would like to take a blood sample to make some basic checks."
"Can you clear everybody out of there? And the passageway between here and there? I really can't be seen."
"I need to go to a secure intercom to see if I can arrange that. There haven't been any flight deck incidents, so we should be good to go, but I have to check. If I can get permission and clear everybody out of there, will you let Chief Peters take you there?"
"How far is it?"
"About a five minute walk on this level. They can clear the hallway given ten minutes notice. I think that's why he asked that you be put in this room. It's our local 'safe house' so to speak."
"Who would take the x-rays and do the CT scan?"
"I can do the CT scan, but I'd prefer to have the resident radiologist do the x-rays. I'd like him to read both as well."
"What does he have to know?"
"Nothing. He would like to know your approximate age, height and weight for purposes of understanding the pictures. He's done this before for other code-name passengers."
"Code name passengers?"
"You're, Matrix, according to Chief Peters. No name, no number, just Matrix. So you are a code-name passenger."
"I'll go for the radiologist. But I want to take the films with me. If it's a digital x-ray, I want the file on a portable drive, and then you delete them off your server. The CT scan will be digital, and I want that file too."
"No problem, I expected that."
"Okay, on that basis, if you can get permission and Chief Peters agrees, I'll go."
"Peters agrees?"
"It's his job to keep me alive. I'm not in good enough shape to do that for myself at the moment, so he gets a vote."
Peters' voice brought her back to the present when he said, "This is going to be a boring three hour flight. Try to get some sleep if you can. We have some packaged food to eat on the way. The roast beef sandwiches have an 'eat-by' time on them, but they are usually really good."
Annie thought for a minute and said, "Once we're airborne, I'd love a roast beef sandwich. I suddenly have an appetite. Is there any place I can lie down? This seat is rather uncomfortable given my current condition."
"I wondered. I arranged for a hammock we can suspend in here. Commander Benson said you might feel like these seats were torture."
"She was right."
"She also said she wondered what your opponents looked like."
Annie just looked at him calmly and after a moment he said, "Right. No questions. But between us kids, the fact that you're here tells me they might not be doing all that well."
Annie continued to look calmly and steadily at him. He broke the silence by saying, "I'll find out if we are at cruising altitude. If we are, I'll get you that sandwich, and we'll put up the hammock."
Annie gave him a flicker of a smile and said, "Thanks. That would be great."
She'd awoken with a start, but Peters was smart enough to have just jiggled her foot and then moved back. She realized she was wide-eyed and poised to attack from the hammock before she remembered she'd cleared her gun and given it to Peters to hold for her. Her breathing returned to normal.
"Welcome back, Matrix. We're going to land in Okinawa in about half-an-hour, but we need to descend, and it could get rougher. They want us belted in."
"Okay. Thanks. Sorry. I know you aren't the enemy."
"No problem. I've had lots of experience waking up people post combat. They react just like you are when it's been pretty rough."
Annie said, "May I have my gun back?"
He held it with the slide locked back pointed in a safe direction. She took it, kept it pointed in a safe direction, inserted the magazine from her pocket, sling shotted the slide to chamber a round, popped the magazine, pulled the other one from her pocket, inserted it, palm slapped it onto the gun, stuck the gun in her waistband at four o'clock and topped up the remaining magazine with a loose round from her pocket. She didn't think anything of it, but when she looked up at Peters, he just nodded with an odd expression and said, "I thought so."
"Gave myself away, didn't I?"
"Not really. We already figured it out."
"Chief, so much of my life is chance that when I can eliminate unknowns, I do it pretty much out of habit. Don't think I don't trust you or that I suspect you tampered with my ammunition. I'm just trying to reduce uncertainty."
"I know. I think, based on what I've seen and what Commander Benson said, if we ever learned who you are and what you've done, we'd be proud to know you. Actually, we already are."
"Thanks. Be careful what you wish for, Chief."
# # #
11:15 AM Hong Kong Time, Day 1, Main cabin of the Grumman C2A, Kadena Air Force Base, Okinawa, Japan:
Chief Peters and his team had deplaned and cleared the area. Annie was just about to climb down from the plane when she heard Peters shout, "Colonel Abbott, what are you doing here?" She stuck her head out of the hatch just in time to see Chief Peters drop his salute to Colonel Abbott. The colonel, trim and precise as ever took the remaining two strides to meet with Chief Peters and the two shook hands.
Annie heard the Colonel say, "It's good to see you, Chief. I think I'm supposed to meet another old friend, someone you are escorting. They picked me because I know you both."
Annie headed down the ramp just as the Colonel looked up and, when he saw her, gave a relieved smile. She could see him about to call her by name and shook her head, but he said, "I'm so damn glad to see you alive I don't care who knows it." As he spoke, he ducked around Chief Peters and headed directly for Annie.
She said, "Uncle Fred, please call me Matrix. I need a hug but be gentle; I'm a bit bruised up."
"Yeah, but that evil bastard is dead." He gave her a quick gentle hug and added, "My God, but your Dad would be proud of you."
"I'm not so sure. How much did Joan tell you?"
"Joan introduced me to Calder. He read me in enough that I can be there when and if you meet with Danielle in California. They didn't think you should do that alone."
"You need to tell me what you know, not here, but as soon as we get on that plane."
"I will."
Annie saw Chief Peters watching her and the Colonel with rapt attention. She saw him get ready to speak and tried to interrupt him, but he just shook his head and said, "Colonel Abbott, who did I just escort out of China?"
The Colonel turned to him and said, "Without going into specifics, the news is going a bit nuts with a story you may not have seen yet. I know you are smart enough to put it together for yourself - the timing is a dead giveaway. Her name won't be in it, and I won't tell you, but she's the one that got it done. You helped her get out of China where she has a huge price on her head and several thousand people hunting her with orders to kill on sight."
Peters stared at her and said with some wonder in his voice, "I saw the news while we were on the carrier. I wondered about the timing. The news is that Henry Wilcox was a traitor. He was found dead, face down in a puddle of blood in a back alley in Hong Kong. He was shot twice through the heart a little while before you would have had to leave to be where we picked you up. You took down Henry Wilcox. That has to be the high point of your career."
Annie's reply seemed to leave him dumbfounded when she said, "I sincerely hope not. It needed doing, but I'm not one bit proud of it." Then she turned to the Colonel and said, "Uncle Fred, get me out of here. I don't like standing here in the open. That slime had a lot of co-conspirators."
The Colonel turned and said, "Chief, can your team escort us to that Gulfstream? I'll take it from there."
The three Seals moved in around Annie their height effectively blocking any possible shot at her, and Chief Peters didn't leave her in the open even going up the stairs into the plane. When they got to the ramp, he picked her up as if she weighed twenty pounds and carried her up the stairs with his body between hers and the plane on the other side. When he put her down at the top of the stairs, he was apparently expecting a rebuff, but Annie just turned, stepped close, gave him a quick hug, released him and said, "Thanks, Chief. Tell your guys thank you for me. Stay safe." Then she turned, and walked into the passenger compartment of the plane.
# # #
11:25 AM Hong Kong Time Day 1, 10:25 PM DC time, Day 0, CIA Chartered Gulfstream, Kadena Air Force Base, Okinawa, Japan:
The plane was set up as a long-range executive business jet. The door to the cockpit was closed. That bothered Annie when she entered the plane, for it occurred to her that she had only seen one head in the cockpit, and what little she could see of it hadn't looked right for an Air Force pilot. She chided herself for being sloppy. She wanted to meet and verify the credentials of whoever was flying the plane. She didn't want any surprises. When Colonel Abbott joined Annie a couple of minutes later, she asked, "Have you met the cockpit crew?"
"I met the crew that flew us over here; there will be two different crews to pilot the plane back to DC. This one will fly us to Pearl Harbor. The next will fly us to LAX and then on to DC."
"Uncle Fred, did you meet the pilots?"
"No. We've been here for forty minutes. I had to go to that hanger to use their encrypted landline to report our status, so I haven't had the cockpit in view the whole time since they arrived. They've been in there the whole time."
"There are two pilots, right?"
"Yes. I saw two Air Force pilots go in there."
"They were clean shaven, right?"
"Of course."
"I didn't see two heads in the cockpit as we walked up to the plane. I may sound paranoid, but I need to meet these guys before that door is closed. Can you make that happen?"
He nodded and said, "Definitely. Give me a minute."
"I'm coming with you. They are not to get my name. But I want to see their military ID, pilot's licenses and passports. I'm going to have them verified by Langley before that door closes or we get off this plane."
"Annie, ..."
"Call me Matrix till we get this cleared up and are in the air."
The Colonel sighed but said, "Okay, Matrix. Let's do it." He knocked on the cockpit door and said, "This is Colonel Abbott. I must validate your credentials before we close the door and start the engines."
There was a pause; Annie heard a muffled sound like a punch hitting a face and then felt the plane vibrate with what felt like a sudden violent movement in the cockpit. She had an instant bad feeling. She lunged to one side, body blocked the Colonel off balance and then pushed him forcefully out the door onto the ramp before he could react. She drew her gun, backed into the cabin and dropped to one knee on the floor behind the partition that separated the hatch from the cabin. She leaned to the right and extended her gun around the partition toward the cockpit. Her vision narrowed to the door when it cracked open and the muzzle of a shotgun poked out. In what seemed like slow motion, the gun fired once. She felt the partition vibrate from the hit, but no pain. The door opened wider. She waited until she saw the man wasn't in uniform, and before he could lower his shotgun to point at her, she fired two fast double taps into the upper right chest that was all she could see of his torso. After he fell, she moved forward, kicked the shotgun out the door where she heard it tumble down the ramp to the concrete. She ignored the shotgun, carefully checked and found no pulse on the man she'd just shot. He was dead.
01/26/2014