The second chapter is finally released after two major rewrites, I actually had a rough draft ready twenty-four hours after I completed Chapter One but I held off after one of my editors told me to redo it. Hopefully, this is much better. Feedback would be appreciated; thank you all.
I didn't mention this but my goal is to fill in the blanks and fix plot holes in the Division storyline and its premise. I'm going to start by setting the record straight on how the Division operates and who they are because the game does their existence a disservice. The version I present below is an extreme caused by special circumstances, I won't go into detail but some extremes are necessary for the sake of the mission.
The cover of my story is actually taken from Ghost Recon: Wildlands Concept Art with a mild addition of blood splatter to emphasize Green Poison, fun fact.
…
["The Division"]
[Summer 2022]
…
"This is the world we live in now. There isn't anything we can do to change it but we can adapt; you don't understand that feeling of everyone being a potential threat…It keeps me up at night Captain and I'm only adapting to the world I live in." – Secretary of Homeland Security to Captain Nathaniel Lincoln, Undocumented Conversation, 2007
…
As children, we're told we have control of our own destinies. We're told that no one can dominate our lives or our futures as long as we take control. According to this logic, if you are to take control of who you are and set yourself on a path toward success and a life of satisfaction, nothing should go wrong. They said that your life would depend on you.
For all intents and purposes, those words were all absolutely fucking false. We've all been lied to; no matter what a person does, there will always be that one bastard that decides he can play god with the lives of others.
Andrew Blackburn had been lied to and now his whole life appeared to be cracking at the fringes. A Lieutenant in the United States Navy, son of a Chinese immigrant and an Air Force veteran, the eldest child of three; Blackburn was a young man living his life in moderate prosperity. He was considered a good-natured kid among his friends and co-workers; there was no way he was capable of stooping down to a level of criminality.
That was the general view of Blackburn, but being locked up in a prison cell for unknown reasons seemed to contradict the standing presumption, or, at least, that was what the young officer reasoned. He could not recount any crimes he had committed. The fact that he was in jail did not make any sense.
Dressed in an American-Eagle tee shirt and a pair of black boxers, Blackburn laid down across a cool wooden bench staring at the stone ceiling above. His arms were cuffed together at the wrists and there was an empty feeling in his hands from loss of circulation.
Blackburn wasn't supposed to be in prison, it just wasn't in his nature. He wasn't a thief and he wasn't a murderer. He never did anything that could warrant this; his mind was struggling to grasp this concept of doing jail time. He didn't get it.
Above the Sino-American officer, a spiraling overhead fan splashed Blackburn with gusts of cold air that sent shivers down his spine. There was no comfort in the cell as everything had been cooled to an icicle-like temperature as the officer had rolled himself into a ball to retain as much heat as he could ignoring the cold metal along his wrists. He was simply cold.
The naval officer had been trying to sleep for the last three hours but the rise of the sun had been a halt to that plan as the slit-like window revealed the blinding light of the sun in its full glory. Everything about this jail cell made Blackburn want to scream, he could do nothing but lay there and think. It was demoralizing.
How had he gotten himself into this mess? At four in the early morning, a bunch of Military Police had barged straight into his apartment dressed in black armor with combat rifles. They had snatched him from his sleep and marched out into the cool tropical night and told to ride with them back to base. From there they spoke few words to Blackburn then left him in a prison to sit.
Blackburn wanted to whimper and cry a bit but tears refused to break ground, he just wasn't the type of person to get emotional. The last time he ever seriously wept had been in his childhood.
There was a notable slam of the security gate from down the jail hall as more police arrived, escorting in another potential felon.
The guards, still dressed in black from another recent raid, marched past Blackburn without a word but their new prisoner had drawn the young man's attention. The woman in their arms had purposely gone limp in an act of defiance against her handlers as they were forced to drag her along. She was a European girl with an Asian complexion, dressed in a sports hoodie and Nike short shorts.
This was Athena Lin, a fellow naval officer, and Blackburn's current girlfriend. Her tangled chocolate-brown hair looked similar to a bird's nest and her dark eyes seemed to glow like hot coals, she was in a very bad mood.
Blackburn subtly noted that she was modestly dressed in comparison to himself suggesting that she had been given more time to get changed. Knowing the woman, Blackburn guessed that she was currently bare chested with only her underwear below her shorts. At least, she was better dressed, Blackburn really wished he had some pants right now. Athena did little to acknowledge Blackburn as she simply let the MPs drag her along to another empty cell.
Athena had been brought to the prison as well, hours after Blackburn had arrived. What was she doing here? Sure, Blackburn lacked any solid idea of why he was being held, but her arrival only added further to the young man's confusion.
Blackburn moved to sit up and get the sun out of eyes and try to gain some sense of awareness. Maybe he could get some information out of the MPs before they wandered back to wherever they had come from.
It did not take the MP guards to make another pass after locking the jail door for Athena's cell shut, one of them even stopped to address Blackburn personally while his counterpart continued down the hall.
"So, you feeling more awake now? You were not very responsive this morning, Blackburn."
Blackburn did not know the man but he seemed to address the officer's name with a hint of sarcastic annoyance. Maybe Blackburn had created a ruckus in the car while on the way back to the MP headquarters.
"What do you want from me? Why are Athena and I being held?"
"Funny, I thought you could answer that question for yourself. You're being held for drug smuggling, plain and simple." The man stated to Blackburn, the guy's mask and goggles made it impossible to distinguish his expression.
"What drugs?"
The man pulled out his phone and started to swipe away at it with some difficulty from his thick glove. After some aggressive sliding, the man showed Blackburn a photo of piles of white pouches stacked by the crate load.
"What is that?" Blackburn asked knowing that they were drugs but trying to get the man to explain his words.
"The drugs we traced back to you." Blackburn wanted to scowl at that remark but he remained stoic since that was an answer he was expecting.
"I didn't smuggle any drugs."
"Sure, you didn't. Well, whatever, it will come out eventually." The MP stated uncaringly. Blackburn assumed he was the MP platoon leader who had invaded his home earlier. The man quickly turned and followed his black-clad companion. The security gate to the prison cells was closed seconds later with a reasonable smash.
There was silence in the jail hall, no convict spoke a word and no voice called foul. There was only silence and the rapping of overhead fans and the terrible radiator that needed replacing. It was a typical silence when a person was alone and they listened into the world around them and the smallest details stood out.
During his passage down the halls of the jail cells, Blackburn had noted a lack of other prisoners. It wasn't a surprise but it was kind of embarrassing to be that one person to be locked in a prison, especially for something they did not do. Even with Athena in prison with Blackburn, they were on their own. The two officers could not see one another but Blackburn swore he could feel Athena's presence in the jail, to the point that he could hear her slow, methodical breathing.
The young male officer waited a bit hoping for a conversation starter to salvage the frozen feeling of the room. Athena was the vocal individual in their partnership allowing Blackburn to be the thinker.
"Andrew…what is this even about?" It took her a bit but the woman's voice flew through the air lazily that brought an image of her tired face to Blackburn's mind.
"I really don't know. You got an idea?" Blackburn replied, his voice was equally tired.
There was a moment of silence between the two officers with two simultaneous sighs of distaste at their current situation. The cold and depression were contagious in prison.
"Well, I do have a theory based on what that guy said."
There was little response from the hidden Athena except an affirmative humph that told the male officer to continue.
"The guy said that we were responsible for drug smuggling. My immediate assumption is that this is either a test or we've been wrongly accused." Blackburn explained to his girlfriend.
Athena's reply was a bit off-putting but understandable. "So, let's just get this out of the way. You both did not smuggle any drugs and we're not involved in any drug-trafficking that you know of?"
"Pretty much," Blackburn simply replied, "I did not traffic any drugs. So, just making sure you did not, did you?"
"No. Really? Is that a question?" Athena asked in a casual offense.
There wasn't really a reason for either to ask due to the closeness, however, it morally helped to confirm the truth. That would be something Athena would tell Blackburn. Blackburn kind of blew off the question as a precaution. "Hey. Just asking for the sake of asking." Blackburn said nonchalantly.
"So; then what is responsible for this?"
"I really don't know."
The two were once again quiet, contemplating their next words, and moves. They were practically drawing on blanks.
"You got any crazy theories?" Blackburn asked Athena as he laid back down on the prison bench.
"Aliens?" Athena asked, half joking and half considering. At this point, anything was really possible.
"Don't even," Blackburn replied humorously.
"Sure. Any others?"
"Well…it could have been another person and they had us, framed?" Blackburn asked curiously. It was a solid theory since nothing else really added up.
"Oh, how original!" Athena cheered sarcastically; Blackburn's statement was pretty obvious.
They really were at a dead end with ideas here and there wasn't much they could do to pass the time. Blackburn didn't know how long he had been in the prison. He just remembered it had been dark when he arrived and the sun was higher in the sky now. Not quite noon but an hour or so before and Athena had arrived minutes before. In their current situation, they would be left with the option of waiting till a superior officer found the time to drag them out or a major development comes up; hopefully, proof that they were innocent of all potential charges.
"What time do you remember being grabbed from your place and what happened?" Blackburn asked his girlfriend.
"Seven, about. Knocked down my door while I was still sleeping. I went for my service knife on the nightstand as they barged through my flat. They brought down my bedroom door and pointed an AR at me. I told them to get out of my house, they told me to drop the knife which I quickly did. They restrained me, might I mention half-naked, and told me to get out the door. I told them that I needed a shirt and they complied and now here we are." Athena explained, annoyed at the retelling.
"Interesting. They got me at four when it was still dark out. Brought down my door and ordered me out when I went to the door to see what type of shit they were doing to my loft. Fuck those MPs by the way. They said something about a sting operation and then everything else kind of blurred together between walking across the asphalt barefoot and having my face planted on the hood of a suburban. I've been here the rest of the time." Blackburn retold his own arrest in a similarly short fashion.
"You ever question where they went in-between?" Athena asked out of curiosity.
"I assumed they went for donuts, I really don't know. Those two MPs were the same guys that broke into your house right?" Blackburn responded sarcastically but his mind was already racing to connect some of the dots.
"Yeah, they were. Why?" Athena said wanting to hear her fellow officer's theory.
"Same guys that got me. That leaves us with a two-hour time frame for them to go and grab you after me between planning and travel time." Blackburn said starting to consider all the factors of the house calls.
"I really don't know. Nothing adds up here." Athena's statement was on point. There really was an emphasis on unknown variables and hopelessness in the room, nothing made any sense. It just threw Blackburn into a confusing loop.
"I think I'm gonna to go back to counting the ceiling tiles now," Blackburn stated, referring to his original pastime.
"You do that," Athena spoke from her own cell; she knew exactly what her boyfriend meant when he spoke about the ceiling.
It took another good hour or so before the MPs decided to get back to work. Blackburn had counted three hundred and twenty-four tiles in the ceiling, might he mention a perfect square, when the security gate was heard slamming down the hall. The Military Police assholes were back to play with the lives of Athena and Blackburn once again, what a fun day it had been.
The MPs had come in force: two fireteams worth of Navy sailors dressed in their typical blue digies were encased in total black combat gear and their faces were obscured behind thick goggles and face wraps. They were nothing short of menacing. Their weapons, German developed M416 and the arguably ancient MP5, a weapon on its way out of service.
Blackburn could not help but feel a bit nervous at the sight of heavily armed guards, it felt more like a firing squad than an escort team. What were these guys expecting from two disgraced military officers in plain undies? Their loadout upgrades seemed a bit irrational though it was more irrational that Blackburn hadn't freaked out by his predicament of being in prison. He still lacked any idea where the drugs came from.
Athena and Blackburn were told to stand up and exit their cages slowly as the doors were unlocked and their cuffs unchained. Two white trash bag was brought out and tossed to each officer.
Blackburn looked in his bag after taking his catch. The trash bag contained his hastily-grabbed Tactical Work Uniform, the Navy TWU or simply his digital blues. They were wrinkled along with a pair of black work boots.
"Uniforms?" Athena asked.
"You're leaving for PACOM, get dressed." The lead MP stated blatantly, he didn't seem pleased.
There was only silence between Blackburn, Athena, and their watchful guards. There was no decency between regulation and time constraints as the pair of officers changed in front of the MPs, somewhere deep down, Blackburn knew that they had an opinion of this situation taking place before them. It was a common trope to assume that soldiers weren't paid to think, therefore they didn't. That was a wrong belief; soldiers were flesh and blood humans and had the same ability to think and judge as everyone else did. Maybe even more so from a unique perspective on the world.
There was an unspoken patience between the pair of officers and the Military Police. Blackburn and Athena did what they were told; there wasn't any room for arguments and the stillness and annoyance in the lead MP's voice suggested that the leader strongly disliked the so-called criminals before him, maybe he was a stickler for the law or maybe drug smugglers were below his moral respect. If Blackburn had been in the same position as the MP, he was sure that his opinion would be very similar to the MP.
"We gotta go. We don't have all day!" The MP barked once the two officers were fully dressed.
The escort, eight men in total along with their two prisoners, marched down a number of long cheaply painted hallways of white before exiting out into the daylight of the tropical Hawaiian Islands; the glare of the sun blinded Blackburn and made his girlfriend sneeze quietly.
"Bless you," Blackburn stated silently.
"I think we need more than a blessing in this situation," Athena replied.
"Yeah, our luck sucks."
There was a convoy of three Police SUVs parked along the pavement. A trio of FBI agents was also present, Blackburn had been expecting ATF agents due to the supposed sting operation but it seems the Bureau was deep in this case which made the young man freak out a little as they approached. The CIA was notorious for their involvement but the FBI was considered just as bad.
"Mr. Blackburn and Ms. Lin, please step into the vehicle." One FBI agent stated as he opened the door to one of the black SUVs. There was quick glance between the couple before complying with the agent. All the words had been drained from Athena and Blackburn, they had nothing to say at this point and they didn't know how the next few hours were going to go down so at the current rate, they were playing the waiting game to see what would happen next.
The SUVs were locked down, the FBI and MP escort entered their rides and the convoy was off speeding past Pearl Harbor's scenic sights. Athena didn't look at Blackburn during the entire trip, focusing more on the beach, trees, and water out the window; the girl wasn't known for being a deep thinker but she had her moments where she would disappear off into her own little world. It was a more prevalent case for Blackburn but Athena was capable of it too.
It took about fifteen minutes to arrive at Camp H.M. Smith, the command center for US Pacific Command, and Blackburn's place of work. The sun was still a bit low in the sky and the work day had yet to begin. The officers of USPACOM didn't arrive on site for at least another half hour where they usually began work around ten in the morning. It was still a bit after nine.
The building was a multi-storied office building painted a dim clay red with a tilted roof. It was built into the side of a small hill and looked like a giant agricultural hut in Africa. The three police vans quickly pulled up to the front of the building and the officers were ordered out with their escort, now fewer than two men per sailor, and ordered to march into the building.
Athena and Blackburn climbed an extensive flight of stairs to enter the building and the two were quickly separated at the empty lobby and guided off to their separate hearings.
"Time to go see the Admiral, LT." The MP stated to Blackburn who only scowled back at the police officer.
The group arrived at a separate office space following an uneventful elevator arrive at the top floor of the PACOM building. On the top of the door, the officer occupying the office was written proud and clear. "Admiral Nathaniel R.D. Lincoln, USSOCOM, United States Navy – Temporary Headquarters."
This was the office of the Special Operations Command Operations Chief, commander of USSOCOM and Blackburn's personal friend and superior officer. He was the man to jumpstart Blackburn's naval career and a father figure for the young man; if anyone could save Blackburn's skin, it would be him.
The FBI agent knocked three solid times on the wooden door before a muffled voice replied back. "Come in."
The agents marched Blackburn into the office space, a spacious office built around a single oak wood desk at its center. There was a large, vertical holographic display on the left side of the room and rows of stacked bookshelves on the right. It wasn't a cramped office but it did appear lived in with a kind of a mix between anarchy and organized chaos. The good Admiral Lincoln wasn't well known for the neat streak that had defined his office in the last two years. The cleaning had been among Blackburn's personal work as a mission planner and sometimes a secretary of sorts for Lincoln since arriving under the Admiral's command in 2020.
The Admiral himself had been pacing before Blackburn's arrival as he turned to face the three men now in his office. Blackburn, the MP, and the FBI agent stood at attention before the SOCOM commander.
There was an awkward tension built into the room that was only reinforced by a half-hearted "At ease," from the Admiral who stared down his subordinate that made Blackburn's skin crawl, it seemed the Admiral wasn't happy.
Seeing Blackburn march into the office guided by FBI and Military Police had made the man clench up. Not in favor of Blackburn however, he wasn't interested in that. He stopped thinking and seemed to make a final decision before putting in the back of his mind. The man had been considering Blackburn's case then. Well, that was just great. Blackburn was fucked.
The young sailor moved to the front of the Admiral's desk. He wasn't going to play the subordinate this time; if he was going down, he was going down swinging. Or, at least, that was the idea. He was about to start the discussion on a single outstretched hand from Lincoln silenced him, Blackburn went rigid.
The older man did not sit and he simply stared at his subordinate officer. "So, this is how it's gonna to be."
"I didn't do it," Blackburn replied quickly, knowing where the accusation was going.
"That will be decided in the military court. I'm appalled this is what you got yourself involved in. You're a United States Naval Officer, you were on your way toward a Captain commission and you go and fuck it up." That point actually hurt, Blackburn had expressed his personal wish to command his own boat and to be a part of the senior naval command structure. He had been working so hard toward it in recent months and now something he had nothing to do with, screwed up his entire career. There was still the possibility that he could turn the tide and get the real person found but for that he needed the help of the Navy's leadership, he needed to make his case clear.
"You don't get it! I didn't do-!" Blackburn was cut off once again by his superior's outstretched hand.
"No. You don't get it. They've already got you – the Bureau has had its eye on you for months. I was informed this morning about the opium you've been smuggling through the Philippines, you think we weren't going to find out?" The Admiral shook his head and took a seat, his eyes refused to leave the Lieutenant. "I don't want to hear any back talk from you; now, you listen. As of today, you're done. You are no longer a commissioned officer in the United States Navy. You are no longer a part of my command. You are no longer under the jurisdiction of the Department of the Navy. You have disgraced the Fleet and you have disgraced me. I brought you onto my Staff because you said you wanted to make the world a better place. You said you want to do good; well, look at how well that turned out. You wiill face the brass and you will face the music."
Blackburn didn't dare reply. When Lincoln made a decision, it was rare if ever that he changed his position. In some circles, a compromise might seem weak, but it is among one of the strongest positions to hold in a conflict. The ability to discuss, learn and negotiate – it's most useful in politics even if most citizens don't seem to understand that. In the military, like a number of other fields where compromise doesn't fit, it helps to be decisive and to refuse to negotiate because it puts you in a place of strength over those that cannot fight back. However, at this time, it was a moment of weakness because it could be the very moment that would decide whether the falsely accused would manage an out.
"I'm disappointed in you Lieutenant. I'm disappointed in you Andrew Blackburn. You've broke every substantial code of our Armed Forces short of treason, you've shamed yourself and you've shamed the Armed Forces. You have been charged with illegal drug trafficking, conduct unbecoming of an officer, wrongful possession of controlled substances with a number of related sub notices, you've breached your code of conduct and you've betrayed my trust in you to do your job as a United States Officer. You will be sent back to the MPs and your property will be confiscated until official termination of your contract. You and your fellow officer will have plenty to discuss in due time. Get the fuck out of my sight."
The Admiral turned to his computer and nodded for the FBI and MP escorts to take Blackburn out of his office. He didn't even look as his subordinate squinted his eyes in anger at his superior. Blackburn saluted the Admiral, did an about-face and marched out of the room, led by the FBI agent from before.
As soon as Blackburn left, Lincoln let out a breath he didn't realize he had been holding. This had been a tiring week with all the planning and dealing with the fiasco with Blackburn, one he was pretty sure he had fucked up. The Admiral had wanted to let him off easy but he had stumbled and decided to go with the harsh option since it would be the quickest and easiest way to let the kid off and chase him out of the military. The Admiral needed Blackburn out and to create the situation necessary for the future. That kid had a lot of potential; he had made the decision long ago that he would make sure they would be used in a place more appropriate than the Navy.
If Blackburn had paid more attention to the computer, he may have managed to grab a few words from the laptop's reflection through the window behind Admiral Lincoln. There was a completed and sent email on screen, one sent forty-eight hours ago with a reply.
PRIORITY EMAIL:
Dear DOHS#SHD.001,
I've made a selection of eight potential agents available from the United States Navy roster for recruitment into the Strategic Homeland Division.
I've already gathered all the necessary personnel dossiers and paperwork. They each have their own recruitment timetables as you asked, however, the ones based at Honolulu will need an escort and a more hands-on approach due to special circumstances related to their personal lives. The false flag op has begun and I need one of your agents on station for the transfer; you know who they are. With the plan, you gave me and if your agent is as good as you say he is at manipulation, then we shouldn't have any issue.
They will have nowhere to turn to after this. Their relationship with the United States Armed Forces is over, they're your agents from here on out. Make sure they do well and take care of them. It would be wasted potential if they failed, Lin and Blackburn had potentially stellar futures in the Fleet, but I understand what you needed. Contingency takes priority, the Secretary made that clear all those years back. Don't disappoint me on this one; that kid is like the son I never had, he doesn't deserve to go through this. For that matter, neither does the girl.
Don't screw this up.
Admiral Nathaniel Lincoln,
USSOCOM Operations Chief, United States Navy
PRIORITY REPLY:
Dear USN#USSOCOM.001,
Our recruiters have made contact in San Diego, Pensacola, and Boston in a timely fashion. All potential recruits have been brought into the fold successfully. Don't doubt my people's abilities to persuade. It's not every day you get asked to become a spy either; well, not really a spy but you get the point.
We've given the Bureau the tip, Naval MPs will commence operating procedure at three-hundred-thirty hours. My man arrived on base yesterday, he's former CIA, one of our top recruiters. Don't worry about persuading your people. As long as you do your job and play the cards right, they'll be in our care by tomorrow night. You've helped us a lot through the years, don't worry, your people will do fine here.
The Division takes care of its own, even if we have to maintain constant deniability and operate from the shadows. We don't get the largest budget for sustainment and nourishment, but we make do. After all, it's your company that does the heavy lifting. I heard you guys received cloaks recently for your Spec Ops. Would it hurt for you to make some requests to get us some too? We may not have the same proficiency or training that your Special Forces Groups get but our operators are some of the finest in the world. They don't train armies but they sure know how to kill them.
They know how to fight. Time in the Sandbox gave us enough experience to build a doctrine that meets our needs. We are like wolves, Admiral. Don't doubt our ability to make good soldiers.
We pull from the best.
Director Bethany Chase,
SHD Project Lead, Department of Homeland Security
Blackburn threw the eagle once they were out in the hall. The MPs and FBI didn't even flinch or react to the vulgar move but it was clear that they didn't care about the events taking place before them. They were people but they were trained not to care about their wards, especially criminals. They don't immediately empathize with anyone, and they sure were not going to with Blackburn after the word "drug trafficker" had been thrown on to his name. He was seriously fucked.
There was another uneventful elevator ride back to the lobby at ground level and Blackburn was once back in the sunlight. He blinked rapidly as a blue glare flashed in his eyes and made his spine tingle, the sunlight was intense given the officer's constant change of scenery. It took a few seconds for Blackburn to adjust but his vision eventually cleared.
The trio, two guards, and their escort had halted before the steps to the parking lot and Athena was nowhere in sight, maybe she had already returned to the truck. Either that or she was still in a conference. There was a man leaning against a stone column near the PACOM entrance wearing thick Aviator sunglasses; Blackburn couldn't see his eyes but he felt their gaze on him as he stopped.
The two guards watched the oddly placed gentleman stride out in front of the MP and the FBI agent without a care for the world. He was sorely out-of-place compared to the American command center and the guards all around Blackburn, the Aviator man wore a suit top and red tie and looked like a regular businessman except for his random cargo pants and sandals. He was something of a mix between a businessman and a tourist; there wasn't much that Blackburn could read off him from a simple glance but he was definitely looking for attention.
"Good morning gentlemen, you're relieved of caring for Mr. Blackburn here, I'll take over." The older man said he marched up real quick into the face of the FBI agent who snarled in response to the sudden closeness.
"We're taking him back to headquarters."
"No, you're not. He may be Navy but this case has been raised to an issue of national security. I'm with the Central Intelligence Agency, I have official jurisdiction over this man. You can be on your way." The supposed CIA officer brought out an official-looking paper that was obscured from Blackburn's sight, it looked to at least have some sort of seal. The officer also brought out an office badge for the CIA that clearly identified the strangely-dressed man.
It took a few minutes of reading before the FBI agent just sighed to himself, motioned for the Navy MP to follow him as he passed the piece of paper back to the CIA officer and marched down the steps back to the SUV convoy. Blackburn was left to stand alone with the man from Central Intelligence in a very awkward situation.
"So…what's this about?"
The CIA officer was silent at first, not saying a word as he watched the police escorts pack up and leave.
"Funny creatures, those ones. They think as long as they are in the country, they have lawful jurisdiction over all security matters when they are really just the little brother trying to get a grasp on the ball in the backyard we've had a hand in since World War Two. They don't understand who they're dealing with," The man turned to Blackburn. "Where are my manners? Nice to meet you, Mr. Blackburn, I can't tell you my name but you can call me Agent."
"Okay?"
"Anyhow, I'm not actually from the CIA. I'm former Central Intelligence, I work for the Department of Homeland Security. Technically, I'm the boss of those FBI kids down there but they don't need to know that," Agent said as he pointed out the SUVs traveling back toward the bay. "You aren't in a good place right now Mr. Blackburn, we both know that. But I think I can help you find a way out of the hole you just dug yourself into."
"Wow, wait a second. I didn't dig any hole, I only found out I was trafficking drugs this morning. I don't even know where those drugs came from. I've been wrongly accused. So has Lieutenant Lin!" Blackburn yelled as he got real close to the one who called himself Agent.
"I can't help you there, son, we got a lot of evidence telling us otherwise. If you've been falsely accused, well, there isn't much you can do for yourself in this situation. The wet fleet isn't behind you and any form of backup you had is gone. In a civilian court, you might receive a fair trial but in a military court, yeah, you'll get a decent lawyer but he's biased to follow doctrine and protocol. You'll be dishonorably discharged, your name will be forever tarnished with the words liar and criminal. You'll lose everything to your name and when I mean everything, I also talking about the human element; your family and friends, your property and personal items, your money, so on - etc. You'll be done. Good luck finding a job after getting out of the slammer, you're practically screwed unless you take what I have to offer you right now. I'm giving you one chance to get yourself out of this mess so you better consider this quickly." Agent spoke rather quickly as he rattled off all sorts of worst-case scenarios that would make Blackburn's life a living hell. Trying to keep up with his words was a lost cause.
"You know? This feels more like a robbery rather than a chance for freedom, it feels like I'm being held at gunpoint. Fine, what's the offer, Mr. Agent?" Blackburn asked, conceding to the man's bleakly painted picture. The picture the man had drawn in his head wasn't a good one. Somewhere, someway, someone was playing that old James Bond theme song from the movie of the same name, Skyfall, in his the young naval officer's honor. It was as if a storm cloud had just appeared right over his head.
"I work for a subset of the Department of Homeland Security, we're a sort of clandestine unit responsible for protecting American society on the domestic front. While the other intelligence organizations and military units handle things up front, we're more behind the scenes. We're an emergency response organization; mostly in the event of natural and artificial disasters."
"That isn't very descriptive," Blackburn said looking a bit skeptical of the fake CIA agent.
"I kind of have to be a bit on the down-low on what we do since we're an off-the-books organization. Black Ops if you will, I can't tell you much more unless you agree to come with me."
"Seems kind of fishy. Tell me this first before we get into it, why me?" Why you looking for me, or at least I assume this is a job offer?" Agent grinned at the question, Blackburn was catching on.
"Yeah, this is a job offer. We like you based on your personal record but also because of the skills and talents you bring to the table, every member is different on an individual level but they all share the same motivations and the same job. If you want to know why you are personally of interest to us, it's because you're a thinker. You're very different from the rest of your generation, more independent and free-thinking. You have a background as a military officer and you scored well into the top bracket of your class for firearms and physical conditioning. You have excellent linguistic and engineering skills that could prove useful. Most of all, you're a patriot, you believe in your nation and its beliefs." Agent removed his sunglasses revealing green eyes of a once more vibrant man and put the glasses in his suit pocket. "We like what we see and we're interested in giving you a chance before you're lost in bureaucratic red tape."
"What about Athena? What happens to her, she's important to me and my decision; does she get the same offer?" Blackburn asked he knew that this was his last chance out but he wasn't going to leave his girlfriend, they had been through too much together and well, Blackburn wasn't going to leave her to face the fire alone.
"Well, agree and you'll find out. Come with me, my car is parked out in visitor parking." Agent replied not providing an answer.
"We go together. I'm no longer military it seems so I'm gonna to forgo protocol, we come as a team. You understand?" Blackburn asked again trying to get a clear response.
"As I said agree to my offer and I can tell you more on the way to the airport." The Agent replied in a flat voice, he was getting tired of this conversation; the government recruiter looked down at his watch to check the time.
"Alright. I agree to your thing!" Blackburn exclaimed in frustration, this guy wasn't giving him anything and had painted him into a corner. "Now tell me what's going to happen to me and Athena. Also, what is this organization?"
"Good choice. I'll tell you as we walk, we got to be back at the airport by eleven hundred hours sharp or my window for recruitment is gone and you go back to Port Authority. This way." Agent stated to Blackburn, leading the younger man off to the side toward a flight of stairs approaching the large parking lot to the east of the USPACOM building.
They walked a few paces and passed a few Navy officers who didn't give Blackburn more than a glance, surprised by the rather terrible fashion choice of the government recruiter. They were mere acquaintances to Blackburn and didn't realize the hectic morning the Lieutenant had dealt with since three.
"You want to give me that answer now?" The ex-navy officer asked impatiently.
"Fine, fine…I represent the Strategic Homeland Division, or Shade, for short. We're made up of government, military, intelligence, and private specialists under a military-styled apparatus reporting to key elements in the Executive Office including the Presidency, the Joint Chiefs, Secretary of State, and the Secretary of Homeland Security. We have a lot of bosses and our mission is widely diversified. Our operatives are in the line of civilian contractors who are activated during national security crises and provide their skills and expertise to response personnel while also maintaining law and order in lawless environments during potential anarchy and looting. We are kind of like civilian-soldiers if you will allow me to make that distinction. Your girlfriend took just about the same amount of time to persuade in joining, almost for the exact same concerns but she was a bit faster at taking the offer. She knows what she wants, smart girl."
"So I'll be working with her?" Blackburn asked skeptically, it was good to hear that she was in the same organization but at this point, they had been fried together, Blackburn didn't want to lose her to paperwork like in the Navy.
"We'll see." Agent simply replied.
The former officer and the SHD recruiter made it to the parking lot just as the majority of the base's officers were making it up the hill to the command center. Not a single man or woman gave the pair a second glance beside one to catch a glimpse at Agent's strange attire.
"As for your future; not that you asked but just so you are aware. We can't stop your discharge from coming through and we can't prevent this information from getting out. We can only prevent the trial since you will be protected by your new security clearance and contracting rank, the military can no longer touch you. Some of the pluses to being a part of Shade. As for the fact of your drug case, don't be surprised if your lifelong connections become severed, the lives you once had. Crime can do that to you. The people at the SHD tend to live very secluded lives or lives seemingly insignificant in the greater scheme of things, we have to make ourselves appear significant to do our job. Like black operations, our operations and our achievements are unknown and our existence will continue to be classified for the foreseeable future, we don't exist. Your discharge will go on record and probably top some news feeds for a bit but it won't last very long and no one will remember in a few weeks." Agent said to Blackburn as they approached a brand new Jeep sedan of some kind, a civilian car from a rental dealership, nothing significant. Athena could be seen jamming out to some obscure song on a phone with earbuds.
"So, this is my future?" Blackburn asked to no one in particular. His eyes drifted up to the sun and clouds overhead, he felt a bit like a protagonist of some terrible political drama with elements of tragedy. Maybe God was playing with him, making him the center of a late night SNL skit. It really did feel like he had become the universe's bitch for a time.
"Yep, for the foreseeable future kid," Agent stated patting Blackburn on the shoulder reassuringly before making his way to the driver side of the vehicle. Athena waved at the pair's approach which Blackburn replied with a simple open palm above his head.
Athena was sitting in the shotgun chair so the male officer quickly climbed into the back. Blackburn sat back on the seats and prepared for a long travel back to the States, at least, that was where he assumed they were going. He had practically assumed that all his property was right now in military custody, which meant it would be a while before he saw it again if he ever would.
Agent's last words as he started the sedan would define the next few years of Blackburn's life, "Welcome to the Division."
