Beyond the Rivers of Jordan
Book 1: River Crossings
Chapter 5
JAG Internal Network
Log entry no: 20016657
"I'm spinning out of control…yeah out of control… Chaos rulez!"
User ID: Cavalier
JAG Headquarters
Falls Church, VA
1504 ZULU
"Sir, I'm sorry, but the Col. has put a hold on all her calls…I know, sir, yes, sir this is the sixth time you're calling….she's busy, sir…"
"Who is that, Tiner?"
Tiner covered the headset then mouthed quietly, "Commander Brumby, Ma'am."
"Let me," Harriet put down the files and walked over to Tiner's desk to take the phone, "Hi, Mic? It's Harriet….Yes, I know you've been trying to get her, but she's been tied up with a case the whole afternoon….no, I doubt you'll be able to get her today…maybe later tonight?…yeah, I expect we'll get home around eleven if nothing goes wrong…uh-huh, uh-huh….alright, I'll tell her, Mic. Yeah, bye bye."
Tiner gave a sigh of relief and told Harriet, "THANK YOU, Ma'am!"
"That's probably the tenth time you've said that today, Tiner," she joked.
"Yes…I know Ma'am…THANK YOU!" he repeated, obviously irritated by the numerous phone calls Mic was putting in.
"Was it that bad, Tiner?" Harriet asked.
"It's not that I don't like Commander…I mean Mr. Brumby, but there are so many calls the Admiral want me to make…and with him so difficult on the phone…"
"Difficult, Tiner?" she looked surprised.
"Yes, Ma'am…I know!" he agreed, "I assumed he and the Col. had a fight or something…not that it's any of my business, Ma'am."
"Mmm…" Harriet mumbled, and then turned to Tiner, "Well then, he won't be calling anymore for today, so you can go about your business…"
"Yes, Ma'am…" Tiner replied as Harriet walked off, "Thank you, Ma'am!"
"Eleven, Tiner!" Harriet hollered back without turning.
She took a straight route, not stopping till she reached Mac's office. The door was open, but she knocked nevertheless to make sure it was okay for her to disturb.
"Hey, Harriet! Come in…close the door."
Harriet did so and walked over to Mac's side of the desk, looking at the note paper she had in front of her, "Hmm…leaves…and lines, lots of them…an out of shape Garfield? …oh and er…'life is like a vacuum cleaner, it sucks!'…I take it your day has been rather fruitful."
"…Doodling…helps me to think," she tried to explain.
"…'To hell with the world'…" Harriet pointed out another scribbled phrase and perched herself on the table, "Good defense counsel."
"Alright…" Mac put the pen down, "So I haven't exactly come up with a solid strategy…"
"…'Drown the bloody…"
"Alright, alright!" Mac threw her hands up to stop Harriet from reading another horrendous phrase, "So I have nothing! Zilch!"
Harriet smiled triumphantly, and then got started, "So why's the world going to hell today? Wouldn't have anything to do with why a certain fiancé has called six times?"
Mac swallowed and tried to cover as convincingly as possible, "You know Mic, likes to call…and I was working so…"
"Uh-huh…uh-huh…" Harriet went, unbelieving, so she looked at the paper once more, "…'men are the scum of the…' …"
Mac slammed her hands over the paper, and tried to pull an innocent grin on Harriet as she pulled it away.
"Tell…" Harriet warned.
"Harriet, honey…" Mac pouted.
"Oh no…don't you 'honey' me…" Harriet pretended to reach for the paper that was steadily retreating behind Mac, then she gently touched Mac's cheek to make her take the conversation more seriously. Mac sighed, and looked at her with tiredness etched in her eyes.
"What happened, dearie? Did you guys have a fight? Cos it's normal before a wedding you know…"
"We didn't have a fight, Harriet…" Mac exhaled frustratedly. She was quiet at first as she stood up to explain things, but then her face scrunched up a couple of times, her eyes becoming a little red. Mac struggled to control the overpowering emotions, and said "I mean…I don't know if you qualify it as a fight… we fought, but he doesn't really know we did…but its not that that's bothering me, so I'm not sure if the problem is a problem…"
Mac shifted a foot unsteadily, and Harriet suspected something was wrong, so she reached out, "Slow down, honey…you're starting to –Woah!" she jumped of the table as Mac dropped back into her chair.
"Okay, breath, Mac…" Harriet stroked Mac's back trying to calm her.
Mac was bending over towards her knees, trying to dispel the dizziness by regulating her breathing. Twice in one day! She couldn't believe it. Harriet took the USMC mug letting her take a sip of water and putting it back on the table. As Mac looked up again, she pushed the hair out of her face and was shocked. She hadn't seen her girl friend look so pale and distraught, at least not out of the hospital, and she quickly felt her cheeks and neck, grabbing hold of her hands.
"Sarah! What happened? You're so cold!" she exclaimed.
"I'm alright, Harriet…really…"
"No, you're not!"
"I just… didn't sleep well…that's all."
Harriet frowned worriedly and held both Mac's hands in hers, "Sarah, you don't have to pretend with me, okay? You should have come to me about what happened."
"I know…I just…" Mac stammered, "It's just too complicated..."
"Alright, I've got time to get it out of you…either way I'm not letting you tell me right now…did you pack your bag?"
"Yes…"
"Mmm…" Harriet muttered rubbing Mac's hand to warm them and feeling her neck to see if the temperature was coming up again, "I'm going to tell the Admiral you need the rest of the day off."
"Harriet…"
"No buts! You're not getting anything done in this state…"
"But I've got a ton of work to do…"
"So bring it home…if you're feeling better you can work on it later tonight!"
"Okay…" Mac answered reluctantly.
"Start packing your stuff!" Harriet looked back briefly to say as she hurried out.
"Yes, Mom…" Mac remarked sarcastically.
"I heard that!"
Mac shook her head as she picked up the documents on the table to replace inside their folder, but stopped when she came to the piece of notebook paper. She sighed, running her fingers over the small words scribbled at the side, one which Harriet hadn't seen.
Guilty, or not guilty? Guilty.
************
Underground Detention Facility
Unknown Location, Washington DC
"We've been over this a million times!"
"And we'll keep going through it until you tell me the truth!"
"Argh! I am telling you the truth!" she growled getting up from the steel table, "Who the hell are you anyway, Mr. Webb?"
"I told you, I'm spe-…"
"Yeah, yeah! Special Assistant to the Under Secretary of State! And I'm the Dahli Lama!"
Clayton glared the marine in front of him, and bluntly stated, "Major Reese, in case you haven't noticed yours isn't exactly a straightforward case! You are facing murder one, two and manslaughter, a dozen counts of treason and espionage against the United States of America, not to mention desertion and wrongful conduct as an officer of the Marine Corps, and don't let me get started on how many rules you broke in international ceasefire and immigration agreements! As far as I'm concerned I'd rather throw you to the wolves! But Congresswoman Latham obviously thinks your sorry ass may not be a lost cause and worth the while for her little campaign stint! If you know what's best for you you'd better start talking!"
"Like I said," she stood defiantly, "I've already told you everything there is to know."
"Something going on here, Webb?" Latham entered the interrogation hall.
"Congresswoman," he rose from the table, "What a pleasant surprise."
"I'm sure it is," she commented, "what are you doing here, Webb?"
"What does it look like?" he snapped, "I'm conducting an interrogation."
"And why might you be doing that?" she narrowed her eyes at him.
"I've been appointed to investigate this case, Congresswoman."
"That's not something a Special Assistant does now is it?" she challenged.
"On some days I'm Special Assistant to the Under Secretary of State…other days I'm…other things," Webb replied.
"Why don't you go about your other things then?" Bobbi suggested grudgingly, "And let me and the Major get down to some legal matters."
Webb looked at both women obviously peeved, "I'll come back later," he said, leaving in a huff.
***********
Daniel Chang's
Kensington Blvd
Mark drummed his fingers on the wooden coffee table, idly sipping the warm scotch. It'd been nearly two hours now, and he was hoping they would be finished soon.
"Would you like another, sir?" the waiter asked.
"No, I'm fine thanks," he replied.
"Perhaps I could get you a magazine, some food maybe?"
"It's quite alright, thank you."
"Xiao Wu, bu yao da rao ke ren le (don't disturb our guest anymore), bu ran ta ke neng hui tui ni bu ke qi (or he might not be as nice in a while)," a voice came from the entrance to the lounge and a good looking Eurasian man walked in. He was well groomed and had tasteful dressing. He grinned broadly as he came over to where Mark was.
"shi de (Yes), li xian shen (Mr. Li),"
The waiter left the two men alone in the room.
"Sokol," he said feigning wariness.
Mark raised an eyebrow, "Is this the part where I silence you?"
"Do try!" the other mocked.
Both men began laughing and hugged, "Geez its good to see you…"
"How long has it been, Elijah? Nearly nine years?"
"Since the Ghana operation? …eleven man!"
Elijah Li – Mark had known him for time. Because of ties between Daniel Chang and his godfather, they had met occasionally. Elijah was second to Chang in his work. The last time they met however, Mark had to work with him for seven months in Ghana where he went undercover to root out 'faceless Ojo', the alledged leader of a militant group who had been buying stolen technology off the Russian blackmarket. Mark oversaw the analysis of the Elijah's findings. The agencies had tried to track him for years only to hit dead end after dead end. Each time they took someone into custody, it turned out that person was just another puppet put there to hide the real leader. Eventually though, they found the man, and Mark watched Elijah carry out the final stages of their mission. When he arrived at the site to confirm the mission status, he was horrified by what he saw, what Elijah was able to carry out due to his training. That was how the man earned his title in the intelligence world. They called him 'the Prophet', because he slaughtered hundreds of men, wiped an organization from the face on the earth in a single day, as one man. He ordered a housekeeping crew to the site once Mark had ensured all documents had been recaptured, till this day, the superstitious locals say that God's hand reached out of heaven and took away the evil men. Mark had to admit, as much as he liked the guy, he scared him sometimes.
"My goodness…" the other commented, "I had been looking forward to seeing you."
"I didn't know you'd be around, you've never been around the last few times we came…assignments?"
The other nodded, "But I blew my knee on a sting op last august, took a while to recover, but no way I'm going out on the same frequency as before…"
"August…what was it…Catona?"
"Mmm-hmm," the other nodded, "the run was supposedly complete, some idiot decided to play Lazurus…tipped heads, both went right through…one nipped my thigh joint, the other completely shattered my knee cap," he said pointing at his right knee.
"So you've been grounded?" Mark asked.
"Missions directive…and I do a lot of the training for Bane."
"It was expected," Mark replied, "…sooner or later."
The other nodded agreeing, "I've had more than my fill of the action…oh, sorry, have a seat."
The two men sat opposite one another and Elijah called out to the waiter, "Xiao Wu!" the waiter came to the door, "jiao Yi Quan kuai dian ba wo shuo fen fu de dong xi long hao (tell Yi Quan to finish what I asked her to do), ran hou ma shang dai shang lai (and when she's done to bring it up immediately)…jiao ta kuai yi dian (tell her to hurry up)."
"Should I be anticipating a change in command anytime soon?" Mark smirked.
"Should I be?" The other went along.
"Now you know better than to ask me that…"
"You keep your secret, I'll keep mine," Elijah retorted, "But seriously now, I didn't come here for nothing…"
Mark sighed, "I am not surprised."
"Oh you will be," the other replied, "You definitely will be."
*********
Underground Detention Facility
Unknown Location. Washington DC
"Major, there's a reason people call me 'hardass Latham'…I like winning wars, especially those that aren't meant to be won. But I won't lie to you here, this is a long shot, and even I don't like our chances. We'll have to wait and see how this plays, he may or may not want to take the case…and I don't want to force it on him."
"Is there anyone else we can turn to, Ma'am?" Kathryn Reese asked.
"Well, Major…he is the best, and him being the media face of the Navy…you'll want him on your side," Bobbi stated the facts, "It'll give you added leverage."
"And if he declines?"
"Hopefully it won't come to that, so you'd best pray hard things go our way."
"Can't you persuade him to take my case, Ma'am?" the Major implored.
Bobbi sighed and replied, "Like I said, I don't want to force it on him…plus the JAG won't like this one bit. The Commander already has a reputation for being able to turn the most trivial escapade into a crusade."
Kathryn paced around, and tried to explain, "Ma'am, Its not that I want to be pushy…it's just that with this…"
"I know, Major, and believe it or not I sympathize…certain things…just aren't in my control."
"Ma'am I'm grateful that you're willing to do this."
Bobbi pressed her lips together, and replied, "Just make sure you're straight with me, Katt…I've got a lot on the line here...and I don't just mean my campaign."
"I am telling you the truth, Ma'am."
Bobbi studied her carefully, but wasn't ready to trust her, "For your sake I hope so."
**********
Naval Training Facility
Norfolk
"That's the girl?" Sturgis examined the photograph, wiping the water off the plastic to see through it more clearly.
"Not bad huh?" Harm said as they walked quickly down the small slope to the parking lot.
"Well yeah…" Sturg shrugged, "She's okay…"
Harm looked to his right and took his wallet back, a little insulted, "What do you mean 'okay'? Renee is more than 'okay'!" And he wiped the inside plastic against his damp trench coat to dry it before slipping it into his pocket.
Its okay with me if it's okay with you…
Is it? Is it okay with you?
"Don't get me wrong, buddy…" Sturg replied, using one hand to shield his face from the rain, "she's okay…just not the kind of girl I pictured you settling down with. But hey! If she's okay for you then…oh-kay!" he added cheekily.
You should hold on to that one, she's good for you.
"Excuse me! I happen to think she's pretty good for me, thank you very much!"
So its not okay…
I didn't say that!
They continued towards the car and Harm unlocked the door.
"This certainly wasn't the car I was expecting either…" Sturg purposely commented.
"There's a lot you didn't expect now isn't there?" Harm threw back, making Sturgis all the more gratified. He continued, "And for your information, the vette was stolen…I'm in the midst of putting together another…okay?"
"Okay!" Sturg burst into giggles as he got in.
Harm glared as he turned on the ignition, stepping hard on the acceleration to emphasize how upset he was with Sturg, but the latter only laughed harder, much to the other's frustration.
"Alright, alright…I'm just droppin' a little chaff…" Sturg, pat his shoulder.
Harm's mind drifted briefly once more.
Your droppin' chaff, Hammer, Nice diversionary tactic, you almost got me going there.
It's not a diversionary tactic, Mac…I was there when Brumby asked you out…
"Harm…Harm!"
"What?" Harm snapped out of his day-dream and turned to the man beside him.
"I was asking you what you thought about the case…HARM!"
The car swerved sharply, but continued skidding perpendicular along the wet road.
***********
Roberts' Car
Harriet pulled to a stop carefully. The rain was pelting down fiercely against the windscreen, causing a drumming sound inside the car. From the corner of her eye, Harriet saw Mac pull the trench coat tighter around herself, so she reached to turn up the heater. Even with the wipers on full, visibility was at a minimal, so traffic was moving a little slower. She held on to the steering wheel waiting for the traffic light to turn green.
"Geez, it's raining cats and dogs…" Mac shifted in her seat.
"I thought you were asleep," Harriet smiled.
"I think I was, for a couple of minutes," Mac replied.
"…funny dream…" she muttered before turning to Harriet, "How long have we been in the car…twenty minutes?"
"More like half an hour actually, "Harriet corrected, "Internal clocks' not working? You must really be sick…" she joked, earning herself a good glare.
Mac stretched a little, massaging her stiff neck, "Mmm…I can't believe the Admiral gave me tomorrow off…" she remarked.
"He's worried about you, Mac…he told me he saw you nearly passing out this morning," Harriet told the other as she stepped on the accelerator.
Mac stopped abruptly and looked towards the other wide-eyed, "H-he saw?" she stammered.
"Yeah," Harriet glanced at her peculiarly as she kept focus on the road ahead, "He saw Harm helping you, and you looked alright…so he didn't bother to check."
"Did he say anything else?"
Harriet shook her head, "Nope…but he was a little shocked when I told him you nearly passed out a second time…so he gave you the day off…and threw in the personal chauffer."
"Thanks, Harriet," Both ladies smiled at one another.
Mac turned toward her window and gazed idly at the passing cars and buildings outside, people rushing around for shelter from the cold November rain. The car stopped again at another traffic light, just outside some apartments. The one just next to them had the lights on, with the curtains drawn. They were only a couple of meters away from the block, so Mac could pretty clearly make out a couple inside, shuffling about trying to dry themselves off with some towels. The car began to move off once again, and somehow, she found her mind drifting back to that day, when she had stood outside, alone in the rain, watching him hold someone else in his arms. She seldom thought about it these days, she made every effort not to. Some things were just better left alone.
"So what were you dreaming about?" Harriet asked after observing her for a while.
"Hmm…? Oh! Nothing…" Mac answered, "Just some silly thing…it's nothing really…"
Nothing, Mac told herself.
**********
Daniel Chang's
Kensington Blvd
"We pursued a '3-01' yesterday…"
"Who?"
"Minon."
Mark was shocked, but said nothing.
"He had been selling level six info to Heinsklov."
"Raide and Hope…" he whispered in realization.
Elijah nodded, "We detected an unauthorized withdrawal from main frame yesterday. Systems was able to put a trace on it, and the signature found uncovered other withdrawals that had gone undetected… these corresponded with previous losses. All sectors affected by the last transaction were subsequently evacuated, but we didn't get to Kuno in time, he was the first hit."
"Unbelievable…" Mark held his breath as the truth sank in, "Our greatest enemy is from within…how did Bane take it?"
"He had left the matter in my hands…"
Mark remembered the earlier conversation, and asked the other staidly, "He was worried that he wouldn't follow through?"
Elijah answered solemnly, "That he would."
"It's been two years since Raide…two years, Eli! How is that possible?"
"He did quite a job…we only stumbled across the last transaction. Apparently Minon had a son on a level six some time back…"
"And Heinsklov had him?"
Elijah glanced up and continued, "It was supposed to be the last installment, but the boy was already dead when the team arrived at Heinsklov's position."
"The scum had no intention of releasing the boy…who conducted his father's execution?"
The prophet paused, and then replied, "I did."
Mark swallowed, "I take it was no accident that systems was able to trace him after all these years…It was the only to retrieve his son if Heinsklov had kept his word."
"We believe that to be the case…"
"Eli," a tall woman came in. It was obvious she wasn't one of the restaurant staff, at least she wasn't disguised as one.
"Thank you," Elijah said to her as she handed him the small metal disk and proceeded out. Mark eyed the scene carefully and cracked his wrist, forbodence reflected in his movements, "So the million dollar question is…why are you telling me this?"
"Because I told him to."
Another voice interrupted the conversation, but this time, Daniel and Nathan ambled in. They rose to greet them, Mark noting the stern look on his godfather's face. He opened his mouth to ask, but the old man patted him to be still, so he kept quiet as the lounge door was shut by staff outside, and Eli inserted the metal disk into a slot near the large television set mounted in the wall ahead. An operating system came up on screen, showing the map of a particular area in Russia Mark was familiar with. Eli grabbed a small remote from the shelf and returned to stand where the rest were, primarily directing the explanation to Mark.
"Yesterday while directive 3-01 was being carried out, a large transport of firearms and supplies was enroute from Millov Base to a Russian military camp located in the Yveskoff Valley…" Eli enlarged the map and got the program to mark specific locations, "less than a hundred miles west of Heinsklov's pinpointed location. The escort consisted of a platoon of 32 infantry and 2 helio escorts. This was their intended route."
A bright green line appeared on the map, part of it showed that the Russian Transport would have come less than 30 miles from Heinsklov's position.
"To go undetected by Heinsklov, our team had to enter through here and proceed on foot to the capture point. During inception an operative got his chute caught in a tree and was unable to take it down, but because of the urgency of the mission, we did not anticipate complications with the transport. Not long after entry the chute was spotted, so one helio left to investigate. We believe the two aviators followed the tracks all the way to Heinsklov's base…and witnessed the operation. They had to have witnessed Heinsklov's interrogation, because while the team conducted a sweep of the area, one of them made a grab for his laptop."
Eiljah pressed a button on the remote, which brought up a window containing a video recording from one of the operatives. They couldn't see his face of course, but he was walking around a large jungle campsite. It had long barracks and containers pitched up all over, in a manner that was obvious they had worked around the terrain so as not to destroy their tree cover. Many parts of the campsite looked like it had been blown up; there were scraps of metal and wood all over the place, along with many, many lifeless bodies. He was yelling some orders to the rest of the operatives, two of them pointing rifles at a group that was squatting on the ground, obviously those who had surrendered; there weren't many of them. One of the men guarding the prisoners yelled suddenly and they could see the video snap briefly as gunfire was heard. The video panned almost violently around to see the back of two Russian soldiers running from a large open air tent. The operations leader was running towards them, stopping momentarily to examine the tent as he ran past. This revealed some more dead bodies, along with one tied to a chair, his head slumped over.
"Heinsklov…" Mark murmured inaudibly.
They heard the man shout that the laptop had been taken, his heavy breathing apparent as the camera jerked all over the place, gunshots and shouting coming from the men who pursuing the two soldiers through the woods. The two soldiers only had hand pistols and turned fire some sparse shots as they ran, but they were too far for Mark to make out who they were. After a few more seconds of pursuit, the video cut to the end. There was a small clearing ahead with a helicopter in the middle; you could just make out the harness of a chute dangling from a tree further up. Now you could make out that one of the soldiers was carrying what appeared to be a laptop. One turned to fire a couple of shots as they neared the helio; there was a shout just before the video snapped to the ground for a moment, then to a bloody thigh. It panned unsteadily up again but you could tell from the angle that the operative was in a prone position, groaning. The barrel of a rifle came up against the picture of two men scrambling into the helio, one running to the drivers' seat and the other returning fire at another operative who was reaching them. The barrel recoiled consecutively several times and then there was another shout as the Russian soldier firing went down on his back inside the helio as it took off. An operative had his upper torso inside, but the former scrambled up holding his shoulder and kicked the fellow back down, letting him drop about three or so meters. There was cursing and swearing as the helio sped off.
Elijah clicked a button to stop the video and the screen reverted to the map, "The transport stopped further down at this point and the helicopter rejoined them, and that is where they were hijacked. When the team arrived at the site the two helicopters along with one jeep had been blown away; twenty-one dead, three of which were aviators, one the man who was shot in the shoulder earlier. The area was searched but they found no trace of the laptop…I had the team extracted before the military arrived on the scene…and we sent in a tracker…"
A new point came up onscreen, "There is a sizeable Chechnya rebel force stationed here, that has not yet been discovered by Russian army intelligence. Our tracker gave us a live video feed of the camp…" another video came up, along with parts of analysis that had been rendered during the recon, "but we were not to find evidence of the laptop at the campsite. We did however, find the aviator who had taken it."
The video feed cut to fenced off area where the remaining Russian soldiers were being held, some wounded. The computer zoomed in on a particular soldier whose side was facing the tracker, as the area was enlarged you could see he was the only aviator in the lot. A boxed appeared at his head, and was enhanced once, twice, three times.
Mark gasped.
**********
Underground Detention Facility
Unknown Location, Washington DC
Clayton walked down the corridor and into the cafeteria. There were two detainees sitting at separate tables having their lunch, each with their own guard and assigned agent, and some employees sitting around on their break. He stood near the door at a corner, continuing his conversation with the SecNav on the cell phone.
"No, Sir, we haven't ascertained that for certain…the Major stuck to the story….she's with Congresswoman Latham at the moment…No, Mr. Secretary, I assure you there's nothing to be unduly concerned about, Congresswoman Latham is simply discussing legal options with the Major. ….Sir, the Congresswoman and myself are communicating all information, no holds barred. And all conversation in the facility are taped, if there's anything to know, I will know about…Correction, Sir, YOU will know about it…Absolutely, sir, you'll updated regularly…yes, sir, yes sir…yes, sir…goodbye… ….hello? Sir?" Clayton heard nothing but the engaged tone and grumbled.
"Trouble, Mr. Webb?"
Clayton rolled his eyes in annoyance at the man beside him and replied, "Nothing I can't handle, Furginnson."
The latter smirked condescendingly at him, so Clayton turned away muttering to himself, "Jerk…"
"Did you say something, Webb?"
Clayton turned to the man and smiled, trying to make pointless conversation, "No, nothing at all, Agent…so what are you doing here? Break?"
Agent Furginnson narrowed his eyes at Clayton and answered, "Lunch for the Major," then looked away again. The cook came out the kitchen door with a metal tray with some utensils. He passed them across the counter to Furginnson.
"Ah, how nice of you to bring it to her," Clayton commented, letting his eyes look toward the other inmates having theirs under watchful eyes.
"Smashing." The other man replied.
Clayton glanced over the counter at slop in various trays, and then looked at the cook, "Special order?"
The cook looked at the contents of the tray he'd carried out and handed to Furginnson, and then gruffly mumbled a sarcastic reply, "Yeah, low fat." Then he turned and went back through the door he came. Both Agent Furginnson and Webb were annoyed but didn't pursue the matter.
"Tell your friends: Its nice to know my tax dollars are being put to good use making sure the world's terrorists are kept safe and eating right," Furginnson took the tray and headed towards the detention cells. He greeted Bobbi as she came in, "Ma'am."
Bobbi nodded back, taking note of the look on Clayton's face as the other left, "I take it you two know each other."
"Know him? He's 'pain-in-the-ass' from-hell!" Clay remarked.
"What do you know?" Bobbi mused, "God is fair after all."
He shot a glare at her for the comment, and then asked, "So how did it go?"
"Is it safe to talk here?" she asked.
Clay nodded.
Bobbi crossed her arms and sighed, "Why don't you and I have lunch."
They turned simultaneously to study the assorted gunk behind the counter. She raised an eyebrow and looked at the cook who came out from the kitchen to serve them. She corrected, "On second thought, how about just coffee? Black."
**********
Daniel Chang's
Kensington Blvd
Elijah switched off the equipment while the others went to sit down. He went over to the door and whispered some instructions to the guards before closing it again. Then he came over to sit down next to Mark.
"So what now?" Mark dared to ask, knowing what the answer would be.
"They are already in the process of moving the prisoners up North to proper detention facilities…"
"And you want me to leak the information to Russian intelligence," Mark finished.
Elijah studied the other and replied, "It's either we do it that way, or the 'hand of God' makes another appearance…"
Mark swallowed at his morbid sense of humor and the other continued, "And we are not dealing with superstitious locals in this case, Mark...there will be too many questions. We don't know how many he may have told."
"He wouldn't…"
"You don't know that, Mark."
Marked breathed and looked at his godfather, who gave him a nod in returned. He sat back and asked, "What do you want me to do?"
"Leak the information through whatever means necessary…I don't forsee you will have problems requesting charge of the mission? I thought so. Make sure that after the rescue is made the first person to talk to him, is you. Ascertain the whereabouts of the laptop, and if anyone else knows the information. I believe he will tell you the truth?" Elijah directed the question at Mark, but looked to Daniel for his go ahead, and looked a little disagreeable that his mentor approved.
He turned his attention back to Mark, "We have full confidence his testimony will be the truth."
"And after?" Mark and Nathan glanced up at one another.
Elijah answered, "We retrieve the laptop, and he signs the standard confidentiality contract."
"More like a life sentence," Mark remarked.
"He has a choice," Elijah reminded him, looking sympathetic for Mark's sake.
The other exhaled heavily then asked, "Those who know…?"
"All will have to be handled according to standard directives," Daniel stated.
Elijah glanced at Nathan then back at Mark, "As Bane has said, we will handle it according to standard directives."
**********
Underground Detention Facility
Unknown Location, Washington DC
Clay listened to the disgusting gurgling noise the coffee maker made, then took the two Styrofoam cups from the guy behind the counter handed him, muttering, "Is it low fat?"
The man raised an eyebrow questioningly at him, but Clayton simple ignored it and walked towards Bobbi who was already seated a table in a corner. He set the cups down before positioning himself opposite her.
"So what did she tell you?" he said bringing the cup to his lips and staring aimlessly ahead. He was used to the bit of nausea that accompanied him constantly. The price you paid for being perpetually robbed of sleep your entire career. The strong bitter taste had a slightly sour edge to it, making him feel worse, but he consoled himself with the fact that it was because the coffee was strong, and in a couple of minutes or so whatever nausea he felt would be completely dispelled.
"Nothing you haven't already heard or got on tape…" Bobbi answered.
Clay snickered to himself and then asked, "So what do you think?"
The other gave careful thought, and replied, "She seems forthcoming enough…yet…"
"Yet?"
"…she seems to be hiding something..."
"Oh? How do you figure that?"
"Call it women's intuition…but I could be wrong. I find it hard to believe that one of your kind could just wake up fed up one morning and decide that maybe it's a good day to blow the roof on everything."
"Mmm…you'll be surprised, Congresswoman…"
"Don't tell me you've…have you?" she stared at him skeptically.
Clay eyed her as he drank the last mouthfuls of coffee, and replied nonchalantly, "Everyday."
Bobbi was unbelieving, but the other continued, "But she has been pretty consistent around both you and I, so either she's telling the truth, or she's just really really good…either way, I'll talk with her more once she's had her lunch…"
She nodded and began telling him about legal matters that she's discussed with Kathryn Reese earlier; she figured he would want to know what she was planning to do. Clay raised his cup getting the cooks' attention, signing that he wanted one more…he was feeling better already. The cook acknowledged and got down to preparing a second cup, and Clay began wondering where the other fellow had gone, he didn't recall ever being briefed about a change in shift in the middle of lunch….then paranoia began to set in as the gears in his head started putting two and two together. He rose to from his seat.
"Clay, are you listening to me?" Bobbi frowned.
He ignored her and yelled to the cook, "Where's your other man?"
When the other stared at him blankly, Clay yelled one more time "Where's your other man??" and started towards the counter. Bobbi stood calling to Clayton and asking what was wrong. Everyone else had their eyes on the commotion.
The cook stammered uneasily as Clay came running towards him, "He went to take a leak…"
"How long ago?" Clay shouted, "HOW LONG??"
"About twenty minutes…"
"Shit. Get the Doc…tell him it's a poisoning case! Hurry up!" Clay yelled at the MP standing by the door as reached for his revolver and ran down the hallway. Bobbi followed after.
"Furginnson! Where the hell is Furginnson?" he yelled at the two agents standing in the hallway laughing.
"I'm here!" he immerged from the room opposite Kathryn's cell.
"Open the Major's cell!"
"What the…"
"Don't think! Just do!" Clay shouted as his running echoed down the hallway.
As he neared the men, he saw Furginnson slide the key card through the lock.
"Shit!" Furginnson yelled and ran in, "Get the medic! Now!"
The two other agents tumbled past Clayton and grabbed hold of the frame of the cell opening, sliding inside to a stop. He dropped to the ground helping Furginnson to get Reese to her feet to try to induce vomiting. She gagged a couple of times; obviously in pain. And then threw up on the floor, there was blood. Bobbi stumbled in just in time to see some red splash onto the floor, and she froze, going pale.
"Where are the medics?" Clayton yelled as the two men settled the woman back onto the floor.
"They're…coming…-" she could barely say.
"Move aside, Ma'am!" the doctor pushed her roughly as three others rolled the apparatus in after him. Clay and Furginnson stepped back.
The doctor made some quick examinations and swabbed a piece of cotton over the blood and handed it to one of the personnel, "Get the food as well, take it down to the labs! We need to get her to OR now!"
They hoisted the major onto the mattress and out the door. As they went passed, Kathryn eyes fixated almost lifeless on Bobbi,
"I told you I was telling the truth…"
**********
Bud and Harriet's House
Rrrrrr-iiiiiiiiiinngggg!
"Alright! Hold your horses!" Harriet tumbled into the living room throwing her keys onto the couch, "Mac, why don't you go up to your room…you know which one…"
"Yeah, no problem, honey," Mac replied as shut the front door and headed up, trudging heavily up the carpeted the stair way, down the hall and into the first room on the right. She dropped her overnight bag just next to the doorway and took a couple of paces to the bed, tumbling face down into the mattress.
Rrrrrr-iiiiiiiiiinngggg!
"Mmm…" she moaned into the heavy blanket covering, her head throbbing. She yelled to downstairs, "Harriet! Do you want me to get it?"
Harriet stuffed the bag of Ben and Jerry's into the freezer and slammed the refrigerator door shut, "It's okay, Mac! I've got it!"
Mac hardly heard the last part of the sentence before she dropped off to sleep…
Downstairs, Harriet ran out the kitchen and snatched up the receiver, "Hello?"
**********
Daniel Chang's
"Hello? ... … … what? Shit… How is it possible? …Fine, alright. I'll tell him." Mark flipped the cell phone shut, "I'm sorry Elijah, but could you excuse us?"
"Certainly." The man rose respectfully, showing that he took no offence. In their line of work, everyone was on a need to know basis. He quickly exited and closed the door behind him.
"What's the matter?" Nathan asked.
"There was a breech in security. Our primary factor was nearly compromised."
"Present status?" Daniel asked.
"Barely 'Active'. She's in the O.R., no word yet."
"How?" Nathan enquired.
"Cook took a leak and never came back." Mark replied frustrated.
Daniel and Nathan looked on calmly and the latter assured his godson, "No sense worrying about it now. It was foreseeable. We were prepared."
"Yes, but I had hoped to prevent the senerio from even occurring." Mark grumbled.
"Is an evaluation being done?" Daniel asked.
"He'll call as soon as he's done," Mark replied.
"Well then, we will wait," Nathan concluded, "Meanwhile I think you have a plane to catch."
The three men stood as Mark put on his trench coat, turning to Daniel, "Sir…"
"Don't worry, Mark, your godfather is in safe hands," the man assured him.
Mark then looked to his godfather, "I will take care of it."
The old man nodded, and motioned him to be on his way. When Mark had left, Nathan turned his back to the door and sighed dejectedly.
"I am sorry, old friend," Daniel expressed.
"It is I who should be apologizing," Nathan replied, "You have given your whole family to this life… I should be thanking you for the compromise you are making for me."
Daniel consoled him, "You have tried your best."
"Maybe I've tried to hard and ended up losing all," the other laughed ruefully, "As I say, sometimes the choices we make…only delay what is inevitable."
***********
Bud and Harriet's residence
She was standing by the road. It was raining. She had sweats on and they clung to every inch of her body, cold and heavy. The rain was dripping down from her hair and over her lashes, onto her skin and down her cheeks. There was a midnight black car, flushed to a tree by the side of the road. The drivers' side had caved in, smashed against the trunk. A large branch was lodged amongst warped metal and shattered glass, part of it on the roof and part of it on the hood. She stepped carefully, fearfully along the tarred road, slowly making her way towards the wreckage.
A flash of the front of a large truck bellowing noise and heat from its engine…
As she moved nearer she could make out that part of the branch had crashed through the windscreen. The front seats looked mangled. She moved closer.
A flash of a muted shout, hands throwing the steering wheel to the left, before they instinctively flew up to shield.
She could see a hand dangling lifeless outside the window. She moved closer.
Screeching…the sound of a car screeching…the smell of burnt rubber and screeching, black tread marks burnt into the tar…rain falling.
She moved closer. Another person in the passenger seat.
Shouts, screeching, then impact. Branch falling, shattered glass all over.
She was near. She came closer.
Broken glass, blood…car alarm ringing.
She moved closer.
Blood trickling down a brow…car alarm ringing
She moved further front, her heart palpitating.
A face…his face
She screamed at the face jerked back.
"HARM!" Mac roused suddenly, her eyes flying wide open.
"Sarah…" Harriet hurried in from the doorway holding on to her shoulders.
Mac tried to steady her trembling as she lay on her stomach, propping herself up on her elbows as she rubbed her face, "Just a dream…" she whispered, and then asked, "How long was I asleep?"
"You've only been in here less than a couple of minutes…I just put down the phone…" Harriet replied soothing her back.
Mac groaned.
"Mac…" Harriet started.
"Yeah…" she rubbed her eyes and looked up.
"I just got off the phone with the Admiral…" Harriet swallowed, "…the commanding officer at Norfolk called…Harm and Commander Turner…"
"Harriet?"
"…they were in an accident."
***********