Undisclosed Location
Nigeria
Darkness.
That's his world now. Darkness inside this tiny and damp cell he's called home now for...a week?
A month?
A year?
He makes marks in the wall with his fingernails after they bring him back from the interrogation/beating sessions they put him through. He assumes each session is once a day. For all he knows, it's once a week. His face has a decent beard, but that's no clear indication of how much time has passed. He ran his hands across the marks and try to count them, losing count after forty-five.
The cell door swung open. The dim light coming from the corridor is enough to hurt his eyes. He shielded his eyes with his left hand and felt two pairs of rough hands grab him by the shoulders and drag him from the cell. A few minutes later, they propped him up in a wooden chair across from the interrogator. He's someone important, the medals on his uniform told him that much. Maybe he's a lieutenant colonel, he thinks, just like he is. Maybe he's something higher.
"Hello, my American friend," the man said in a pleasant tone, his English heavily accented. "Still nothing to say?"
The interrogator lit up a cigar and took a long drag off of it before blowing the smoke into his face.
"Do you know what insanity is? Insanity is doing the same thing over and over again, yet expecting a different result. This is why you are insane. You refuse to talk, even though my men beat you and barely keep you fed. We know you are an American, even though your government refuses to acknowledge your existence. You won't tell us why you and your friends came to our country, killed our countrymen, and destroyed a facility we were protecting. You take beatings and refuse to talk. Every time you expect it to be different, but it is not. You, my friend, are insane...or maybe it is I that is the insane one. I expect you to talk, but yet you don't. No matter what I do."
The interrogator leaned in and whispered into his ear.
"Those marks on the wall? I have my men come in every time you are pulled out of your cell and change the marks."
That's when he snapped. He let out a scream and used all the strength he had to tackle the interrogator and drive him to the ground, getting one good punch in before his men pulled him off. The men began to punch him in the stomach, chest, and kicked him as he fell to the ground. He felt one of his ribs break and the wind rushed out his lungs.
"Enough," the interrogator said.
His head is swimming and he's on the verge of passing out. The men picked him back up and placed him back on the wooden chair. The interrogator sat back down and looks at him calmly.
"Tell me...do you know what insanity is?"
150 Miles East
Kaduna, Nigeria
The black man got out of his jeep and adjusted the jacket he was wearing. He glanced over to his right. There was a darkened doorway halfway down the block. The man strolled down the street observing the people he passed. Kaduna was the headquarters of the Islamic rebels who were currently advancing south to Nigeria's capital, Abuja, and the primarily Christian government there.
He checked his watch and ducked into a narrow side alley were a man in military dress was waiting for him.
"You're late."
"Sorry, gov," the man said in a slightly cockney British accent. "Thought I had a tail. Needed to shake it."
"Right. Where is your product?"
"Nearby where's my money?"
"Nearby."
"Is it the amount we agreed on?"
"Six million pounds. And the product?"
"Six ounces of depleted uranium just as you asked."
Suddenly a jeep pulled up and blocked the alleyway. Soldiers jumped out of the jeep and pointed assault rifles at the British man.
"Don't move," his contact said. The military man pushed him against the wall and began searching through his pockets. "We know who you are and what games you pull. You are a con man. There is no depleted uranium!"
The soldiers pulled the man off the wall and shoved him in the jeep.
"Take him to the prison!" Their officer barked. "We will straighten him out there!"
The jeep's driver shoved it into gear and sped off down the street with the British man inside. The officer walked back down the alley to his car and drove off.
A few minutes later, a woman wearing a burqa stepped out of the same doorway the British man had looked into earlier. She surveyed the scene before speaking into the device on her wrist.
"Nightshade to Waller. Phase 1 is complete. Operation: Raise the Flag is a go.
The guard pushed the black British man down the corridor of the prison. They had stripped him of his suit and had replaced it with a dingy gray prison outfit. The guard shouted at him in the Hausa language.
His eyes lingered as he passed a room where a white man with shaggy red hair was sitting in a wooden chair, a spotlight in his eyes.
Name: Rick Flag
Codename: Flagman
Abilities: Skilled marksman, natural leader
Role: Task Force X Field Leader
The guard kept pushing the man to the end of the corridor and shoved him into a cell. The door slammed shut behind him and locked. The man paced around the room and his tongue instinctively rubbed the fresh filling in his back molar. The guards full cavity search had missed the new filling and the small GPS device in it. The man sat down on the edge of his cot and leaned back against the wall, his eyes closed.
He was mentally preparing for the task to come.
Name: Benjamin Turner
Codename: Bronze Tiger
Abilities: Expert in hand to hand combat and stealth
Role: Tactical support
Kaduna, Nigeria
The middle aged black woman stood at the head of the table inside the hotel room. Gathered around her were three men and one woman.
"Listen up, people..."
Name: Special Agent Dr. Amanda Waller
Codename: The Wall
Role: Task Force X leader
"Turner's tracking chip finally came to a stop on the outskirts of Kano. It's about 150 miles west of Kaduna. I ordered a UAV to fly over the location and it's a prison facility that matches our intel."
"When do we move in?" The woman with dark hair and pale skin asked.
Name: Eve Eden
Codename: Nightshade
Powers: Light manipulation, teleportation
Role: Infiltration, transportation
"We need Turner to get eyes on Flag before we try any sort of exfiltration. I've got it set it up to meet with Turner at the prison tomorrow morning. I'm going undercover as his lawyer."
"No way in hell you're going in there alone," the man to Waller's right said in a gruff voice. He was wearing a tie and dress shirt and wore a glove on his right hand.
Name: CLASSIFIED
Codename: Sarge Steel
Role: Intelligence
"Don't worry, Sarge. I ain't going in alone. I expect my guardian angel to be looking out for me. Ain't that right, Floyd?"
"I don't think any goddamn guardian angel could shoot half as good as me," the dark haired man with the cigarette in his mouth said.
Name: Floyd Lawton
Codename: Deadshot
Abilities: Expert marksman
Role: Sniper
"When I go," Waller said, "I'm gonna need some recording devices on my person. Kuttler, you got anything like that with us?"
"I can rig something up," the skinny man with glasses said.
Name: Noah Kuttler
Codename: Calculator
Abilities: Skilled hacker
Role: Technological support
"Good. Alright, that's it for now. Let's get working on tomorrow morning. We're out of here and on our way to Kano at 0600."
Nigerian Prison
Outskirts of Kano
0545 Hours
The sun wouldn't begin to rise for another thirty minutes, but the change of the guard was already underway. The night shift guards were clocking out while day shift guards all came in to begin their shift.
It was during this lull that Lawton got into position.
Decked out in a desert camouflage Ghillie suit, he navigated slowly across the sands outside the prison. In his hands was a sniper rifle with desert camo painted on the barrel and suppressor.
He pulled up and stopped when he was five hundred yards away from the prison.
"Deadshot to The Wall, I'm in position. Calibrating my rifle now."
"Roger that, Deadshot," Waller's voice crackled over the radio. "Just hang tight. It's gonna heat up real fast when the sun comes up, but you got more than enough water in your Ghillie to last you the day and into the night."
"Yeah, yeah. Just wake me when you get ready to go in..."
1125 Hours
The jeep tore across the dirt road towards the prison. It stopped at the entrance to the prison. Out stepped Waller and Nightshade, both women dressed in conservative dress clothes.
"We're with the British consul," Waller told the guard at the entrance. She was talking in a faux British accent. "And we're here to see our client, Mister Smith."
"I'm sorry, the prison if off-limits to all-"
"No," she said sternly. "I have my ID and my client has a right to be represented by his home country on these trumped up charges!"
"I-"
"No. I'm done talking with you," Waller said with a scowl. "I want to speak to the person in charge or I will call the British PM himself and a international incident will be on your head! Do you want that?"
The guard stammered before finally turning around and running into the prison. Within five minutes, the two women were inside the office of the prison administrator.
"I am sorry for the hassle," the man said with a smile. "I do not mean to upset any of the British government's wishes."
While the man spoke, Waller fiddled with the second button on her blouse. Inside the button was a micro camera.
"There we go," Calculator's voice came in through her earpiece. '"I'm running his face through the database. We should know who he is in just a minute..."
"Well, when can I possibly see Mister Smith?" Waller asked
"You mean the man who tries to con my people out of millions of dollars?"
"If this is the same man who is also a British citizen, then, yes. After all, he has a right to see us."
"Fine," the administrator said with a sigh. "But you will both be escorted by a guard at all times."
"Very well. Jennifer, you can wait out in the car."
"Yes, ma'am." Nightshade said with a slight bow.
While Nightshade headed back to the jeep, a guard led Waller to the prison block.
"Got a hit on the warden," Calculator's voice said over the radio. "He's Colonel Samuel Ubuntu, part of the military tribunal that's leading the Muslim rebels. He's suspected of taking part in ethnic cleansing of Christians back in the 90's. The UN investigated, but he was never brought up on charges."
Waller tapped the earpiece to acknowledge. She was led to the visitation room where a shackled Ben Turner was waiting.
"Hello, Mister Smith," she said as she sat down. "I'm Misses Wilson. I'm with the British consul's office and I'm here to see if we can get rid of these trumped up charges."
"Right," Turner said in his British accent. "By the by, cut out the mister stuff. Just call me by my nickname."
"Which is?"
"Flag," Turner said with a sparkle in his eyes. "My friends call me Flag."
"Well, I'm sure they'll be waiting for you to get out."
Waller reached into her purse and pulled out a hardcover book. She looked at the guard supervising them and held it up.
"Is it alright if I give him this?"
"What is it?" The guard asked as he snatched it from her grasp. He thumbed through the book and shook the pages. "No contraband inside. Book is okay."
The guard handed it to Turner. He talked with Waller for fifteen more minutes before being lead back to his cell. Waller was led back to the jeep she and Nightshade had rode in. She climbed into the car while Nightshade started it up and pulled away.
"Alright, folks," she said into the radio. "Turner gave me a positive confirmation. I'm giving us the green light. Rendezvous with Turner and Flag is at midnight."
Inside the prison, the cell door slammed behind Turner. He waited until the guard was gone before he started on the book. Turner pried open the hardcover's spine and carefully removed a lockpick from inside the spine. He chuckled as he saw the book's title.
The Great Escape.
At least she had a sense of humor.
Flag's torturer yanked his head out of the bucket of ice water. He coughed so bad that his whole body aches and spasms with pain. The door opened up and Flag's interrogator walked in. This time he had a pistol in his hands.
"Are you British? You must be. Why else would two nosy British consul *****es come to my prison and nose around?"
The man's two cronies lifted Flag up on to his feet. The interrogator placed the barrel of the gun inside his mouth. Flag's heart raced as he pulled back the hammer of the gun.
"Talk, goddamn you! Do you know how many people I've tortured! How many people I've had beg me to kill them? Just so that I could ease their pain and suffering. Who are you to refuse me? WHO ARE YOU?"
Ubuntu yanked the gun from Flag's mouth and pistol whipped him hard in the head. Flag fell back and hit the floor with a hard thump. His vision was blurry and his right eye was already beginning to swell as Ubuntu talked.
"Your country has abandoned you, nobody cares about you. You are worthless to me. I give you one final chance, just because you are a true solider and I respect that. If you do not reach out to me or my people and tell me who or what you are, then I will put a bullet in your head. You have until midnight to decide."
With that, Ubuntu left the room and his two cronies dragged Flag back to his cell. Back in the darkness he calls home...Flag began to wonder. Maybe he's right. That goddamn Pentagon general had sold him out, left him for dead. If they wanted Flag, they would have at least tried to make a deal.
Instead, he was here...all by his self. Alone...
DINK!
DINK!
DINK!
Flag's ears picked up as he heard the sound.
DINK!
Someone tapping on a pipe somewhere...but not at a steady pace. No, he recognized that...it's Morse code. Flag listened to the taps for a minute before the message became clear. Just hearing it filled him with a new resolve.
Flag. BT. B-out. 2345 hrs. B ready
Goddamn...It's him. He didn't know how, but it's him.
Flag, Bronze Tiger. Breakout at 11:45 PM. Be ready.
Don't worry, Ben, he thought.
I'll be ready.
Nigerian Prison
Outskirts of Kano
2330 Hours
It was dark inside Ben Turner's prison cell, but he stood up and walked towards the tiny window that looked out on the night. The land surrounding the prison was dry and arid, but there were some plant life. This part of the country was the beginning of the mighty Sahara.
There were stars lighting up the night sky from millions of light years away, but it was a closer light that caught Turner's attention. From off in the distance, a light flashed on and off twice.
Without a second thought, Turner turned to his cot and pulled the lockpick from out under the mattress. He walked over to the cell door and began to work on its lock. Within thirty seconds, the lock snapped and the cell door swung open. Turner took the lockpick and held it like a knife as he crept into the corridor.
"Almost time," the guard said from outside Flag's cell. Only a half hour until he's to be put to death. Going on who knows how long in this hell hole and they still haven't broke him. Now they're left with their only choice, they have to kill him.
That's their plan, anyway. Flag considered himself someone who had experience in these matters, and he knew firsthand ho plans had a way of being blown to hell and back when you least expected it.
The guard in front of the cell turned around to look down the corridor. Flag slowly slide off his bunk and crept across the floor until he was within reach of the guard's neck.
"Uck!" The guard cried out as Flag reached through the bars and wrap his hands around the guard's neck and slammed him into the bars. The guard struggled against Flag's grip, trying to reach for the pistol on his hip. Flag ended it all with a savage twist of the neck. The guard's dead body fell limp to the ground. Flag reached for the keys on his belt and look through them. He found the key to his cell and opened it. Flag grabbed the pistol off the guard and chambered a round. He was two steps out the cell when footsteps echoed down the corridor. Flag held the gun out and got ready to squeeze the trigger when...
"Put that gun down..."
Ben Turner himself stepped out of the shadows, a lockpick in his hands.
"I'm here to rescue you."
"About goddamn time," Flag croaked out, his voice raw and rusty from a prolonged silence. "You're early. I almost shot you."
"My message was 11:30. Not my fault you suck at Morse code. We gotta go. The Wall is waiting."
"Who the hell is that?"
"Don't worry," Turner said with a chuckle. "You'll find out soon enough. Now, let's go."
"Not before we make one little stop first. I want to say a proper goodbye to the ***hole who tortured me all this time."
Turner nodded and lead the way down the dark corridor with Flag right behind him, pistol in his hands and ready to fire.
Nigerian Prison
Outskirts of Kano
2345 Hours
Turner and Flag sneaked through the prison's cellblock. They stopped short and melded into the shadows as a guard walked by. Flag leaped out at the guard and put him in a chokehold. While the guard struggled, Flag reached for his pistol and bashed the butt of the gun on the man's head. The guard went limp and Flag let the unconscious man drop to the floor.
"C'mon," Turner whispered. He searched the passed out guard and took the man's pistol from its hip holster. "Prison exit is one floor down. We're almost out of here."
"Not yet," Flag whispered back. "I want to find the bastard who tortured me everyday for a month."
"We're wasting time, dammit!" Turner spat out.
"I want to find out how much they know about me...among other things. Come on, let's go."
Flag led the way out of the cellblock and up a level to the prison offices. They entered an office marked Col. Ubuntu. The man who had been interrogating flag was sitting at his desk when the two came in.
"Oh, no," he said, reaching for the gun on his desk. Flag beat him to the punch, pulling up his pistol and shooting Ubuntu in the chest. The colonel fell back away from his desk and hit the floor. Flag walked over calmly and put the gun in Ubuntu's face.
"I came to talk. My name is Lieutenant Colonel Richard Montgomery Flag the third. I'm a former US Ranger, former Delta Force, and current leader of a black-ops strike team known as Task Force X. I was in your hellhole of a country because of an ***hole set me up. What he's got coming for him, is what you got coming to you right now. Any more questions?"
"Please, no! NO!"
Flag squeezed the trigger and shot Ubuntu twice in the head.
"Didn't think so."
"Well, so much for being quiet," Turner said as he checked into the hallway outside. "Half the guards in the prison are probably headed our way."
"Then let's get going."
The two men left the office and began back down the corridor. Two guards rounded the corner with AK-47s in their hands. Flag and Turner drew down fire, striking both men in the chest before they had a chance to fire. They swapped out their pistols for the assault rifles and hurried out of the offices and out to the prison's side entrance.
"I had a certain side were suppose to escape out of," Turner said, "I think this was it."
The two men ran through the sand, but stopped short when a spotlight from the prison fell on them. Guards from the roof of the prison began shouting.
KRAK!
KRAK!
KRAK!
KRAK!
Four rifle shots cut through the air and all the guards on the roof were dead, each and everyone of them were victims of bullets to the head.
KRAK!
A bullet struck the spotlight and shattered it. Back in the restored darkness, Flag turned to Turner.
"Lawton?" Flag asked
"Lawton," Turner replied with a nod. "He's up here somewhere. The three of us have a rendezvous with the extraction team a half mile away."
They turned their backs on the prison and began running. Shots were coming from inside the prison as the guards prepared to give chase to the escaped prisoners. At one spot, the sand beside them suddenly started to move and a Ghillie suit clad Deadshot began to run along with him.
"This ****ing suit!" He yelled ."I've been in this goddamn suit for eighteen ****ing hours!"
"Cry me a goddamn river, Lawton," Flag replied. "Try wearing one while you lay in the mud for three days straight and then you can come crying to me."
As they covered the ground to the rendezvous, the shots and calls from the guards began to grow louder. Off in the distance, a pickup truck was idling in the sand.
"Hit the dirt!" A voice from beside the truck called out as soon as the three were within earshot. They fell to the ground as automatic rifle rife ripped through the night. Bullets whizzed over their heads.
"Clear!"
The three men picked themselves up and jogged over to the truck.
"Sorry about that," Sarge Steel said. A smoking M4 was in his hands. "Guards were getting close. That buys us time. Now let's go! Get on the back of the truck!"
Lawton, Flag, and Turner jumped into the pickups bed as Steel climbed into the cab and hit the gas.
"Is that the Wall?" Flag asked as the truck bounced across the desert.
"You wish," Turner said with a smile. "That's Sarge Steel."
Flag shot Turner an incredulous look and Turner just shrugged.
"You never know. It could actually be his real name."
After a half hour drive, the pickup came to a stop on a flat stretch of desert that had been turned into an improvised airstrip. A C-17 was taxied and waiting.
"Let's go," Steel said as he exited the truck. "We got a thirteen hour flight back to the states to look forward to."
Flag, Turner, and Lawton climbed out of the back and walked towards the taxiing aircraft. Two women were waiting for them by the plane's cargo ramp. One of them bolted across the sand as soon as she saw Flag.
"Rick!" Nightshade said as she embraced Flag. "Thank God you're alive!"
She pulled away suddenly, looking slightly embarrassed. "Just...uhh, good to have you back."
"Ain't that sweet," the other woman said. She walked over to Flag and looked him over. "Welcome back from the cold, Flag...You look like hell. Come on inside the plane and we'll start your debrief. You think Ubuntu was a torturer, wait until I start on you."
With that, she turned and walked back to the plane.
"That," Turner said over Flag's shoulder "Is the Wall."