"And that's the state we're in more or less," she sighed. The woman regarded the man in front of her with critical sea green eyes, not unlike a principal sizing up a student on their first trip to the office. Her shoulder length dirty blonde hair was pinned back behind her ears and her face, though beautiful, bore the lines of both creeping age and years of unvoiced stress.
The main difference between reality and the earlier metaphor was that her, 'office,' was a few kilometers underground in international territory, and the so called student was wearing the uniform of the United Nations Volunteer Special Operations Forces. He had no name tag or any other identifying marks on him, save for two silver medals decorating the left breast pocket of his dark green and blue uniform and a matching hat held by his side. On his shoulders were three metal stars and double bars denoting his rank as that of Colonel. His handsome features were locked in a mask of contemplation, one she knew he reserved for dealing with the much despised chain of command. He finally shifted his stance and spoke after what had felt like, for him at least, decades.
"Permission to speak freely Ma'am," he said, eyes never once leaving the wall ahead.
"Granted," She answered in a cold monotone. His gaze went to the floor as he ran a free hand through his crew cut brown hair that still retained its fair share of curls.
"With all due respect," he said in a considerably more relaxed tone, "That is one hell of an order. I've had to put teams together for ops on short notice before but this is."
"I know," She said sliding back in her chair, shoulders hunched and arms crossed. "But you're the only other person in this whole fragging system who's head isn't ten miles up their ass. Listen, The Black Arms are escalating their actions. Pretty soon its not just going to be arms smuggling or religious hate attacks it'll be mass insurrections and jihad's. I've already tried every government in the world with the resources, but until there's actually a body count we can link directly to them no one seems to even want to believe they exist, much less foot the bill for an investigation." The colonel scoffed.
"That synagogue bombing in Alexandria last week looked pretty real to me."
"Point is you're the only other person who takes these people seriously." The man cocked an eyebrow and folded his arms over his chest.
"But why me," he asked flatly, "You have the best to choose from Helen, why call me out? The last time I."
"Its called past for a reason," She deadpanned, cutting him off with her voice like a knife through cold celery. "I read the reports on Africa and Lhasa, and I know there was more to them than what ended up on file." She sighed, closing her eyes and mustering the words. "Frankly I couldn't give any less of a damn about your past. The fact is, you're the only one with the balls and connections to make this happen. And more importantly you're the only one I trust to do it right." The man hung his head and sighed, letting out a breath held by reflex.
"When do you need them?"
"Two months," She said curtly. "That's how long the delegates gave me to give them a reason not to junk the whole idea." The man shifted on his feet again, exhaling sharply as he did.
Two months, that gave him 61 days to do what previous commanders had needed years to accomplish, and put back together a humpty dumpty nearly every paper pushing beuracrat in the world had tried to smash to dust.
"If it makes you sleep any easier," She said, her tone just as exhausted as the colonel's stance, "You have your pick of any spec and black ops agency you want; Russian, Korean, American, South African you name it." He thought about it, he had served with quite a few of the nations special forces on the list now available to him, and he had friends and favors owed in each.
"I'll see what I can come up with," He said putting on his hat, then snapped a salute before turning and heading for the door. But just as he opened the metal door.
"Jacob," Helen called back. The colonel looked over his shoulder, her sea green eyes meeting his steel blue with an almost unnatural tenderness. "It wasn't your fault. They made their choices, there was nothing you could do to change their minds and you know that." Jacob simply glanced at the floor, readjusted his cap, and then walked off without another word. His face appeared clam, but it only masked a monotonous turmoil within.
"I figured it would be you who would find me like this Jacob."
"Stand down Vinny. Don't do anything you'll regret."
"You're first mistake is thinking for a moment I am capable of regretting ANYTHING AT THIS POINT!"
"Just put the gun down Eric!"
"MAKE ME!"
BANG!
He put the familiar thoughts out of his mind as he made his way down the stark grey halls. He opened and closed the door to his seldom used office, the empty shelves and blank picture frames kept free of dust by the underpaid staff. He sat at his desk and taped the key board of his computer. As the nearly paper thin machine whirred to life, he opened one of the drawers in his desk. He took out a small simple headset, fitting the soft plastic tip into his right ear and positioning the foam mic by his mouth. He pressed a button on the earpiece to activate it, and the miniature speaker toned to life just as his computers monitor also came alive. He typed in his pass code and user ID into the required boxes, then adjusted his headset.
"Voice access code victor four-echo 76-tango one," he said slowly and deliberately into the mic, waiting a moment for the device to transmit and receive the necessary data.
"Voice recognition and identification codes confirmed," the familiar female voice of the base's Artificial Intelligence Operator beeped into his ear, "Access to secure Codex network granted. Welcome back Colonel Keyes."
"Hey Yuli," Jacob said like he was talking to a real person and not an overly complex string of code as he opened another drawer in his desk and fished out a box matches and another of cigars. No he wasn't supposed to have them, but he was in international terrirory at the moment. "I need access to personnel rosters: special operations and black ops teams," he said clamping the cigar in his teeth and striking a match.
"Any specific country or nationality in mind Colonel?" Yuli asked politely, not asking whether or not he actually had the clearance to be looking at the files he had requested.
"Nope," Jacob said leaning back and spinning in his chair, "Just show me the lists. Lord knows I've got a lot of long nights ahead of me."
"Are you certain Colonel? There is a considerable amount of data to navigate, even for an AI such as myself."
"I'm sure," he sighed.
"Processing..." She said pausing for a moment. "I'm sorry Colonel, but there seems to be a problem," She said, the slightest twinge of annoyance entering her voice. "I cannot seem to access the files you have requested." Jacob didn't know whether to curse or jump for joy. "While you have the necessary security clearance to view the data, it appears the servers in question are down for maintenance; a substantial overhaul of the security systems, anti-viral, and anti-intruder firewalls it seems. Notices indicate they will not be consistently active again for at least 60 days, and parts of the system have thus been taken down to avoid visitor inconveniences."
'Visitor inconvenience my ass,' Jacob said to himself, though was far from surprised. He knew it wasn't unlike these bureaucrats to agree to a friendly handshake then try to tie your hands behind your back.
"What can you access Yuli?" he asked, not at all ready to deliver the news to Helen. Lord knows that was one woman you did not want to piss off without absolutely having too.
"I have access to lists of dishonorable discharges, black-listings, and burn notices Sir." Five minutes into his new job and Jacob already wanted to shove the whole thing down a politicians throat. First they give them two months to assemble a world class first rate combat spec ops team, then they lock them out of every military roster and database except for the damaged goods and rejects. But if there was one thing his years of experience had taught Jacob, it was that you can't waste time focusing on what you don't have. Focus on what you do have and get the job done.
"Okay Yuli," Jacob said rolling himself up to his desk and leaning forward as he put his hands on the keyboard. "Show me the names."
"Sir?" She asked in all too human confusion. "I am not sure I understand."
"If they want to see me build a team from scraps and trash, then that's just what I'll do." He smiled to himself as Yuli brought up the databases he needed.