Oops...I forgot to put the disclaimer on the first chapter...DUH!...oh well...of course, I don't own any of the original characters of UC Undercover. My sincere apologies for leaving out that ever so important little tidbit of information, which can get us into a whole mess of trouble if we don't. Amazing, huh?
Thanks to all of you wonderful folks for the awesome reviews! Also, to those of you who emailed me in concern over my not posting more on the story...my thanks. Life has been quite rough lately, and I have had little if no time to do any writing, reading/reviewing. But now I'm back...and hopefully...this is worth the wait.
MALICIOUS INTENT
CHAPTER 2 PAST REVISITED
Bloom contemplated the position Frank had put him in and wasn't going to take the wrap for this. Yes, he had been the one who devised the program, but he wasn't the one who actually set the wheels in motion. He had given it over to Esquivel and at first, all went well with the program. Then things started going awry. Agents were turning up missing. No one knew of their whereabouts and Esquivel was at a loss for answers. No way they could have escaped from that island. 'And why would they?' Bloom thought.
Over and over, Bloom tossed around what information had been given him concerning the strange disappearances of agents. They was only one in the first year...but now there were eight missing.
He hated it. Had argued with the higher-ups about sending in Frank's team. But they wouldn't hear any arguments contrary to their decision. Now, there was hell to pay for, with Frank. He always clashed with Frank, but he knew that Frank was the best man he could ultimately have when the chips were down. He had never been Frank's favorite person, and he knew there were many valid reasons for it. Still, knowing how Frank had suffered during the training and the residual effects it had produced made him shudder.
Bloom reluctantly re-entered the nest for the second time that day. He would have rather have transmitted the information. But as usual, his superiors had given him the ultimatum to deliver it in hand to Frank or he would be looking for another job.
Now, file in hand, he reluctantly walked into the Nest. Looking around, he saw Cody, Alex and Jake sitting and mulling over unclear facts of this lucrative mission they had to endure. They had very little information to work on and it was driving them insane.
Jake saw Bloom enter the door, and stared at the man. He wasn't much at sorting out a person's character, but he knew he didn't like the man. Maybe it was infectious. Frank didn't like him, and well, the rest of the team wasn't too up on him. Now, all he could think of was what Bloom was toting in his briefcase. He knew it couldn't be good, judging from the look on Bloom's face. Then again, maybe Bloom just hated to have another confrontation with Frank. Who could know?
Bloom saw Jake sitting and staring at him. Jake, coming out of his deep thoughts, motioned up the stairs. With a sigh, Bloom started for the stairs. Jake rose from his seat and walked in his path.
"I wouldn't go up just yet," Jake said, shaking his head. "He hasn't calmed down. Monica is with him and as of yet...she hasn't had any success."
"I'm afraid that Monica won't make any progress concerning his problem," Bloom said ruefully.
"Why is that? What did they do to him? What really happens at this so called 'indisclosed location' that is so bad, that it can take a man down like Frank?"
"That is classified information, Agent Shaw," Bloom said, his voice thick with the bluntness of denial. " Anything that goes on there is classified. Which is to be seen by the eyes of those in higher offices and by psychiatrists and the counselors assigned to rehab. DO NOT try to retrieve that information!"
"I assure you, Agent Bloom, I don't even have the knowledge to do such a thing, nor would I try and break any Department rules," Jake assured him.
"Right, Agent Shaw, Bloom said, disbelief lacing his voice. I am aware of your incapacity in that area, but I am not ignorant. I know of your tenacity when faced with great odds. I know very well of Agent Forester's tenacity as well, and the fact that he is very adept in that area. If any of you try to retrieve that information, the repercussions will be more than the information is worth," Bloom said, glaring.
Jake stared impassively as Bloom brushed past him towards the stairs that Jake was attempting to block. Feeling the need to know even more so now, he turned to Cody. Cody hadn't even looked towards Jake to know what he was thinking. Jake could tell in Cody's expression that he would crack the code to Frank's file if it was the last thing he ever did. He had to know, they all had to know.
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Frank toyed with the pen he was holding, staring at the wall before him. He had buried the pain so deep, he didn't want to even think about the agony he had endured. Monica sat across the desk, pensively studying him with an intensity that even surprised herself. She was so afraid of what had erupted from Frank earlier in the day, the nagging ache to understand and help never left her. She knew some things about the psychological effects that were the result of severe trauma, and wanted desperately to help Frank. He was reclusive and cold most of the time, but they all had seen glimpses of the man they knew was hidden behind the mask of stone. That man deserved to be let out and Monica vowed to herself to do anything possible to help him come out of that hardened shell and face his personal and professional demons.
For how long she sat there, she had no clue. It could have been ten minutes, it could have been hours for that matter. Time seemed to stand still. The pain that had emerged to the surface of Frank's features had never left. Bloom and his cohorts were responsible for this. She was sure that there was much more to this than what little information they were able to retrieve had stated. There was no way that anyone as tough as Frank could be affected by something referred to simply as 'terrorist/abduction' training that was meant for an agents benefit. Something was amiss about this training program. And above all, they were walking in blind. Why the Department wanted them to go in like that, not knowing what they faced, was beyond her.
Never had any information been denied them concerning the various training sessions they had to go through, and definitely, no information was ever withheld about any case they were working on. Many times, in the beginning, they had tried to retrieve information on Frank, but they gave up after awhile as nothing Cody could do with his techno wizardry would unlock his file. Of course, she knew that there were more than just his file that was deemed 'classified', but Cody had managed to crack most of the codes of the other files that were deemed 'classified' and most were rather interesting and implicating in content, but were not so bad as to have the 'hands off' classification.
Frank kept twirling his pen on the desk, staring into the very depths of the wall, threatening to bore an inescapable abyss in it. The pain was so hideous in his eyes, as his thoughts took him through the torment he endured and had effectively hid in the recesses of his trained mind ever since. It was being forced to the surface by broaching the subject of the 'questionable' training.
It was most painful to watch him like this. Never had Monica seen him suffer emotional turmoil like this. She had witness flickers of various emotions in him that had threatened to surface during the numerous cases they had solved. Some of those were very emotional at that. Seeing someone whose life had been snuffed out just for someones sadistic pleasure was not something that anyone in their right mind would flippantly approach or walk away from emotionally untouched. Frank's emotions had threatened to surface on many an occasion as such, but nothing like this. Monica finally couldn't take anymore. Looking down at her watch, she realized she had been sitting in Frank's office for nearly an hour, watching his features betray him as he agonized through the past memories. She spoke.
"Frank, I want to help you," Monica earnestly insisted. "Holding in the pain you endured will do nothing but make the suffering much worse. Sometimes just talking through a past experience can help one face it. Please, open up to me. Let me in. Let me try to help you."
The moments seemed interminable. Monica finally came to the realization that she wasn't going to reach him. Slowly, she started to rise. Turning, Monica hesitantly began to make steps for the door. Grabbing the handle, she heard him clear his throat. She stopped when she heard his attempt to verbalize something that fought to stay buried.
"Monica, this situation we are facing is one like you've never experienced before. It's not that I don't want your help, I just can't face the fact that you and the rest will have to endure this. I don't even know if 'I' can take it again. There are no words that can describe a situation that is equivocal at best."
Monica turned to face Frank. "Equivocal? What do you mean, Frank? What makes you suspicious of this program?
Frank stood, slowly he made his way over to the windows. Dusk was well in its descent, and the darkness of night would soon be upon them. In a little over twenty-four hours, they would be headed to a destination best described as 'hell on earth'. How could one describe the hideous acts that were experienced there? The utter humiliation? Normally when someone went through a special training program, one had a sense of personal satisfaction in successfully completing it. But not this one. There were no laurels to be had, no triumphs to inwardly smile upon, but nightmare upon endless nightmare for the rest of their lives and to never be the same man or woman again. Was that the Justice Department's idea of personal and professional achievement? To relive the unspeakable acts over and over for the rest of one's life? Bloom had said that some agents were institutionalized and one of them had attempted suicide. Deep down, Frank could understand completely. This program was one that needed to be scratched, never more to afflict the men and women who lay their life on the line everyday for the sake of duty and humanity.
"As long as I can remember, I wanted to do something that would benefit people. To do something that would make a difference in their lives. I thought I had found the answer years ago when I decided to join the Bureau, and help take out the evil influence that was destroying young and old alike. Too many times as a young child, I had seen crime first hand. At first, when I joined the Bureau, there seemed to be a lot of positive things going on. Of course, I was just a novice at the time and wasn't aware of the secret departments and the underhanded approaches some agents had.
Pausing, Frank turned and looked at Monica with hurt gleaming in his eyes. Never did he anticipate the underhandedness of his higherups. He shouldn't have been so naive. But his knowledge of the intricate workings of the bureau hadn't dawned on him as a young agent. The first major operation he led, was the reason that the Bureau had developed this program. Maybe it was his fault; his failure to bring the men under him safely through the mission and break that large drug operation. Maybe he deserved the mental anguish he was suffering, afterall.
A gentle nudge from Monica, prompted him out of his private accusations, and to continue his story.
"Supposedly, I had been under close scrutiny for a few years by the Bureau's upper echelon. These were in fact, my first three years as an agent. My partner, who had been an agent for over ten years, was in charge. But nevertheless, they liked how I worked and how I handled tricky situations. Even as a fairly new agent, they told me they were impressed by my performance and said that I had a natural ability for leadership and wanted to utilize it to the fullest," Frank said, frustrated. "That was the day that they told me that they had a special operation that I was to lead. At first, I couldn't believe that they were already putting me in charge of an operation, and when I found out what type it was and the severity of it, I had my doubts. But Bloom and some of the other higherups told me they had a lot of faith in my natural abilities. It would take me deep into the Columbian Cartel and into the very heart of Luis Cortina's operation. I went in undercover, alone at first. The game plan was to go in as a major buyer and would have the means to transport a huge shipment of cocaine and heroin to the states and had multiple connections in all the branches of the Justice Department so that we could ship extremely large quantities and go undetected."
Frank stopped and stared aimlessly at the windowsill. Monica walked over to him, placing a comforting hand on his arm. "Go on, Frank. I know this has got to be difficult, but just let it all out," she said reassuringly.
Running his fingers through his hair, Frank looked intently into her eyes. "I was 26 years old, and alone. I was to have some backup that was supposed to be showing up as the men who were in my employment. One man, Agent Hernandez, was posing as my business partner, so that the operation would seem phathomable, since my business operation was a very large one. Bloom said that everyone had agreed that it would look better if I had a partner and Hernandez 'insisted' that he pose as my partner. Well, Hernandez and the other agents showed up as planned. Hernandez, did an excellent job portraying my partner."
Disgusted at the remembrance of the whole situation, Frank started to pace. "When Hernandez arrived with the other agents, everything seemed to be working as planned. Cortina had invited Hernandez and I to a dinner party the night before the drugs were supposed to be loaded for shipment. Several big name cartel members were present and we both played our roles well while the entertainment and dinner commenced. But I can't tell you how hard it was to maintain the front after what we witnessed earlier in the day. Monica, I can't describe what it felt like to rub elbows with all these druglords. It sickened me, knowing the ruthless way they kept people under submission working for them."
Frank stopped talking, overtaken by the visions of horror flooding forth from the dark recesses of his mind where only 'nightmares lived' are stored.
I witnessed it all, as Hernandez and I were given a tour of the compound earlier in the day. Also, we saw some men and women who had been brought to the compound the day before we arrived. These people refused to work for Cortina and were paying for it dearly. They were in an outbuilding and were being beaten mercilessly. Then the women, after being beaten, were being used over and over while their husbands were made to watch. I couldn't even so much as flinch, or my cover would've been blown. I was supposed to be this tough, uncompromising drug trafficker and my counterpart was supposed to have the same demeanor. It was all I could do not to give in to my gut instincts right then and there. I remember glancing over at Hernandez. He just looked at it impassively as if it was nothing more than a normal sight of everyday life. Hernandez was playing his part very well."
"That night, after the dinner was well over with, I was really nervous about the next days shipment and takedown. Even though I was only an agent for a few years, I had been placed in charge of this major assignment and I hated every minute of it. We had twenty agents with us, excluding Hernandez and myself. These guys had been agents a lot longer than I had been, but they handled the fact that I had been given the lead over it with no problem at all. Back at the Bureau, these guys all seemed to be accepting and supportive of me from the first day I showed up as a new agent. I really liked those guys. Anyways, I couldn't sleep that night and paced restlessly in my room. The villa we were staying in was very spacious and Hernandez and I both had separate large suites. His suite was adjacent to mine. We both retired at the same time."
"Walking to our suites, he could see that I was very upset about what I had seen happening earlier in the day as well as nervous about the upcoming events and he tried to calm me down some. He said something like 'kid, things are gonna work out. You wait and see.'
"Like I said, I had tried to suppress the horrible feeling I had about the whole situation, and did well during the dinner and gathering before and after the meal, but once I was on my way to the suite, I couldn't control the feelings at all. He was so calm. I attributed his calmness to the fact that he had been an agent for four years more than I. The other agents posing as our men, were staying in a large outbuilding where manual labor workers were housed. They had all been agents a lot longer than I had been as well."
"Actually, in a very different situation, it would have been quite relaxing. The estate, in itself, was beautiful and it would have been quite a pleasure to stay, had it not been a druglord's domain. To this day, I still can't imagine how any of the men and women employed at the estate could live there in relative comfort, knowing what horrors were going on deeper inside the compound."
"I tried, but sleep evaded me. I continued to pace the floor long after I had prepared for bed, and walked out the terrace doors of my room to lay back on one of the chaise loungers and stare at the stars. My room was on the second floor and facing rolling hills behind the mansion. All was quiet in the night for a long time and I started to dose. Then I heard voices in the courtyard below. It seemed to be an argument of some sort. The voices were in a hushed tone, but I could still tell that they were arguing. I lay down on the floor and carefully worked my way to the terrace's edge to look through the lattice work, and saw who was arguing. It was Cortina and Hernandez. It startled me at first, as I thought Hernandez had been found out. But that was not what the heated discussion suggested."
Frank turned and looked Monica square in the eyes. She could see the pain of blatant betrayal in them. "It was a setup, Monica. They were at odds to who would have the honor of killing me! Hernandez argued that he had been following my steps throughout this whole operation and wanted the job. He told Cortina that he had been waiting a long time to take me down. Wanted to get rid of me because he had heard from Bloom that I was headed to the top. Hernandez had followed me with interest and had been a spy for Cortina in the Bureau. Cortina, on the other hand, wanted to kill me himself, because I was trying to bring down his drug empire."
"That had jogged my memory to the day that Bloom had said that Hernandez had specifically requested to work with me on any missions I was lined up for. Hernandez had worked with me on several projects before Bloom had told me of this, and thought that it was because Hernandez liked my techniques in achieving success in the missions assigned. But then I realized that all he wanted to do was get close to me and eventually take me out."
Monica stood there staring wide-eyed at Frank, realizing what hell he had gone through, and was actually getting a 'from the horses mouth' account of his well-sealed file. Now she understood why Frank's file was so classified. There had been attempts to assassinate him by spies within.
"Frank, you said Hernandez was working with you on other projects? Where was your partner?" Monica queried.
Haunted eyes turned to greet Monica's. "He had been murdered by a sniper," Frank said, averting his eyes. "Almost a year before the Cortina operation."
Frank sat down on one of the chairs facing his desk. He looked dejected, betrayed, and just downright miserable. She could sense that this whole story had a major role in the training they were going to participate in. Through her specialized profile training, she had learned many aspects of how the mind, in general, worked. Frank was definitely on his way to a serious 'overload'. Now she suddenly realized that Frank's going through the training again might just be the breaking point of not only his professional career, but may very well destroy his quality of life completely.
Monica walked over and sat in the chair next to Frank. He was leaning over with his face buried in his hands. Her heart went out to him, but there was little she could do to comfort the raging emotions attacking his senses.
Frank managed to compose himself to a reasonable degree and sat back in the chair. "I did the only thing I could think of. I ran to the outbuilding where the other agents were. I was sure that not all of them were in on this. I was right. When I got to the building, I opened the door and hurried in. The agents were there alright. They were all there, and quite dead. From the looks of them, it seemed that they had been murdered not more than an hour before. I had to get word out to Bloom—of the double-cross and the murders.