I meant to have this up earlier, but work was so busy that I didn't get a chance to work on it.
The present day part is a bit short, but I hope that the extra long past section makes up for it.
Anyway, I got a good response, so here you go ...
Chapter 4
Scott couldn't believe his ears. A traitor? Someone on his base, someone who he lived and worked with was a traitor? How could that be?
"There has to be some mistake."
"No mistake, Lieutenant. Trust me, I would not be here if we weren't sure."
"But who?" Scott asked, still trying to wrap his head around the idea.
"That's what I'm here to find out."
He turned in his chair so that he could place the file on the desk and flip it open. Scott took a step forward to peer over the man's shoulder while he located a list among the papers. The list was extensive, containing the name of over half of the enlisted men and nearly every officer on the base.
"About six months ago we received a tip that someone was selling secrets to a nearby terrorist cell. We managed to track the leak to this base," Hatfield explained. "Our in-tell suggests that the person in question is probably an officer, but we are not ruling out the possibility that they are one of the higher ranked enlisted personnel."
"Who is your most likely candidate?"
"Hard to say. Our biggest fear is that it is one of the commanders."
"Surely you don't think Col. Stevenson-"
"We are not ruling anyone out at this time … except you of course."
"Why me?"
Hatfield gave him a look that said it should have been obvious, but Scott wanted a direct answer. He trusted his life to these men, and they did the same with him. What made him so special that he was automatically taken off the list when people like Lt. Col. Stevenson were not?
"You have no motive," Hatfield explained. "A promising career and strong character references, not to mention the fact your father's company leaves you better off then any terrorist cell financially. We could find no reason for you to betray anyone. Simply put, you have little to gain and far too much to loose."
As true as it was, the same could be said for dozens of other officers on the base … except maybe the billionaire father part. But if he was right, if Stevenson or one of the other pilots was a trading secrets to the enemy …
"What's his motive?"
"Who?"
"Col. Stevenson."
"Oh," Hatfield looked down at his notes. "He is being forced into retirement and may be either looking for some money to add to his pension or a way to get even for being forced out. Really, it's about the same as everyone else. Your friend Lt. Jones for instance-"
"Joker is not a traitor," Scott stated firmly.
"Joker?" Hatfield raised an eyebrow.
"It's kind of a long story, but basically the name comes from his initials. They are the same as the acronym for 'Just Joking'."
"I see," Hatfield smiled slightly, showing the first emotion Scott had seen since the man arrived. "What do your initials stand for?"
"Saint."
"Fitting," Hatfield sighed. "In any case, I admire your loyalty, and I'm sure that Lt. Jones is not the only one you would vouch for, but I am here to do a job and I'm going to do it … no matter who it leads me to."
He spoke firmly, but there was a hint of regret in his voice. Clearly this was not the first time he had to root out a leak among those who were supposed to be on his side. Scott knew he was going to do his job, and did not envy him one bit, but still prayed that he was wrong about this whole thing.
"You should probably get back to your duties before someone becomes suspicious. First, take this."
He reached back into his briefcase, producing a small card, and handed it to Scott. It was white with a phone number printed in bold black letters and the name 'Dan' scribbled underneath.
"I'm not going to lie to you, Lieutenant, the people I am after are dangerous. If anyone finds out why I am here, or that you know why I am here, it could mean both our lives. It's imperative that you tell no one. The fewer that know the safer it is for everyone," he summarized, placing the card in Scott's hand. "If anything does happen to me, this is my handler's name and number. Call him and do whatever he tells you. Understand? Whatever has to be done to stop this leak."
He didn't say it, but Scott got the message loud and clear. If Hatfield failed, for whatever reason, he would have to take up the mantle. He would have to take down one of his comrades, his friends.
"For what it's worth," Hatfield placed a hand on his shoulder, "I really hope I am wrong."
After leaving the main compound, Scott needed someplace to think. The card was on his shirt pocket, but he could feel it through the fabric, a constant reminder of what Hatfield had told him. But he wasn't Hatfield. Was Hatfield even a real person?
"Hey Saint!"
Scott looked up to see a group of his friends heading towards him. Along with James there was Richard Coleman, called Radio for 'Radio Controlled' since he loved gadgets; Christopher Jackson, the lawyer wannabe nicknamed Justice for 'Criminal Justice'; and Michael Dobbs, called Doc since there was no better acronym for MD. Four of his six closest friends, men he would give his life for. Was one of them the traitor?
"Dude, you day dreaming or something?" Michael asked, nudging his arm.
"Come on, we're on our way to watch East and Railroad try and kill each other at pool," Richard said happily.
Before he could protest, Scott was pulled along to the officers club where he was handed a beer and sat down with a front row seat to the game. Edward Saunders, named for the 'East Side', was facing off against Randy Redmond. After the second straight win by Randy, Scott had all but forgot about his meeting with Hatfield.
"Viva la resistance!" James cheered as Randy sunk another ball.
"Really, dude?" Edward rolled his eyes. "That ended, like, two months ago."
"The resistance will never die," James stated with mock severity. "Right guys?"
The other men who were part of the movie smuggling operation all nodded, except Scott. He was suddenly struck by how readily and openly James defied authority. Granted, swiping a projector and movie was a far cry from selling secrets to the enemy, but still …
"You still with us Saint?" Randy asked as he lined up another shot.
"He's just finally regretting his part in your little escapade," Christopher smirked. "I'm just glad I stayed out of it."
"I still can't believe they all talked him into it," Edward added. "With a career like his, you'd think he would have had the sense to stay away."
"Someone had to keep them from getting caught," Scott shot back, joining the conversation.
"Darn straight," James grinned, clapping his friend on the back. "He's with us to the end, right Saint?"
Suddenly the card in his pocket seemed to gain weight, until it was impossible to ignore. Was he right in trusting these people, or was he drinking with a traitor?
"Right, Saint?" James repeated, eyeing him with a mix of confusion and concern.
"Right," Scott forced a smile, tapping his beer against James'.
His friend smiled and went back to cheering as Randy won another round. There was no way he was a traitor, or any of these guys. They were like his brothers, guys he could trust with anything … weren't they?
/'/'/'/'/'PRESENT DAY'\'\'\'\'\
Scott stepped into the small room, his mind seeing it as it was all those years ago. A couch had replaced the bed along the wall and the desk was different from the fine oak one Hatfield had used. Someone had repainted, replacing the dull gray with a pale blue. Far more cherry, but it failed to lift Scott's mood any. Pulling out a pocket knife, he knelt by the base board, about two feet from the edge of the couch. He had to scrape away some paint to make sure he had the right spot before prying it loose.
"It's still here," he murmured, putting away his knife.
He reached out and took hold if the dirty file, pulling it free from the nook it had been hiding in for ten years. Scott looked over the yellowed pages, wondering whether or not he should just burn the darn thing. No, he told himself. He didn't have a business card with a name and phone number this time, no one to tell his family if things went south. All he had was this file, put together ten years ago, which may finally bring to light the darkest secret in his past.
What do you think?
Again, if I get a good response I will try to get the next part up before bed tomorrow ... oh wait, it's almost 2am. Make that before bed today. :)
BTW, I tried to explain the nickname thing in this chapter. Let me know if anything else is unclear and I will explain it asap.