As Nicole continued to watch, Briggs reached out and snatched the hat from CJ's head, just as he'd finally managed to pull the T-shirt on over it. She said something that made CJ laugh quietly before bending his head and giving her a quick kiss as he grabbed the hat and put it back on, once more covering his receding hairline. She said something more to him and he quickly stepped back into the room, reappearing as he shrugged into his favorite denim shirt that he'd ripped the sleeves from, much like the T-shirt he already wore. Hefting a duffel bag onto his own shoulder, and cradling a rifle in his other arm, the duo made their way down the hall, moving away from Nicole, towards the stairwell, and descending below.
Standing once more, Nicole crept back into her room for a quick minute, hurriedly gathering her own belongings into a duffel similar to CJ's. Taking a quick look around to make sure she hadn't left anything behind, a thought came to mind. Swiftly, she went into the bathroom, opening the medicine cabinet and pulling out extra toiletries, razors, Band-Aids, even a box of tampons. Who knew if there'd be anything like this available wherever Briggs was planning on taking them. She dumped the stuff into her bag and then once more left the room, hurrying down the stairs. At the bottom she decided to head towards the kitchen in search of food. She was starving after that disastrous dinner last night, she'd hardly been able to eat with all the verbal sparring going on between the others. It didn't help that this morning she was wracked with guilt about sneaking off the night before without telling Terry where she was going. Worse yet, Zachary had tagged along after her, trying out every tired pick up line in the book. The only good part was discovering that he was just as skilled with a can of spray paint as she considered herself to be.
Arriving in the kitchen, Nicole was surprised to find Monica and Ana there already, perched on one of the counters together eating what appeared to be large bowls of cereal as they talked. When they spied her in the doorway, Monica called out, "And just where were you last night? Normally I'd guess that you were playing hide the salami with Terry, but he was with us," she grinned wickedly at Nicole, sensing that she'd touched a nerve with that comment.
"Nowhere special," Nicole mumbled. "I needed to get out of the house after all that yelling during dinner last night so I just ended up taking a walk down to the stables, you know, petting the horses and stuff. ."
"Petting the horse? That's a new way of putting it. Oh, and by the way, in case you were wondering, Terry noticed that both you and Zach were both missing," Monica told her, smiling at how the younger girl stiffened.
"Mon, be nice," Ana said looking between the two girls. "Nicole, why don't you join us for breakfast. Somehow they've managed to get some fresh milk here. I can't remember when a bowl of cereal tasted so good."
"Fresh milk?" Nicole asked, surprised. She fixed herself a bowl of cereal and joined the other two women sitting atop the counter. It'd been such a long time since any of them had last had some milk. They'd run out of it just before Briggs' team had arrived at the mall to take them to the research lab. Taking a big bite of the cereal, Nicole chewed for a moment before asking, "How do you think they managed to get fresh milk here after all this time?"
Before either of the others could respond, Briggs spoke out from the vicinity of the garage door. "Felix has a small herd of goats down by the stables. He's been milking them for years, I'm surprised you didn't notice them down there yesterday." She walked into view, CJ and Cowboy along side her. The three of them had communications equipment on, the transmitters around their necks and earpieces in their ears, as well as pistol belts strapped around their waists. Each still carried a rifle slung over their shoulder, the total effect,
especially since Briggs and Cowboy were now clad in civilian clothes, made them look like guerrilla fighters.
Monica looked at them speculatively for a moment. "What are you two, the Bobbsey Twins or something? she asked, gesturing towards Briggs and Cowboy. They were both dressed similarly in black concert tees, Rammstein and the Rolling Stones respectively, and faded blue jeans. Combat boots finished the look.
"Or something," Cowboy replied, spotting the pot of coffee somebody had brewed and gravitating towards it.
"You two seem like you're joined at the hip sometimes. Of course, now that you've got CJ tagging along you look like you're more into threesomes," Monica smiling. Ana and Nicole almost choked on their cereal over her remark.
"Oh Monica, that's wrong on so many more levels than you even realize," Briggs said. Almost smiling, she added, "Almost as wrong as, oh, I don't know, a woman who willingly sleeps with a guy like Steve maybe."
"Touché."
Worried that the war of words might break into something more serious, Ana sought to change the subject. "So Sergeant Briggs, any idea how many of us are leaving this afternoon?"
"Sixteen for sure so far," Briggs replied, searching through the cupboards for something to eat. At last she seemed to locate what she was looking for, a hidden stash of Pop Tarts. "Good old Catalina, I knew I could count on you," she muttered.
"Damn, are those the S'mores ones?" asked Cowboy. Briggs smiled, tossing a package to him.
"CJ?" she asked, holding up a package and then tossing it his way as he nodded.
"You two act like a couple of kids in a candy store," Ana commented, smiling.
"We're chocoholics, normally we've got a hidden stash no matter where we go," Cowboy supplied, smiling. "My weakness is Twix Bars, hers are peanut M&M's."
"And you've made it this long without any, I'm impressed," Monica smirked.
"Oh we've got stashes, they just wouldn't be secret or hidden if we told you where," Cowboy said grinning. He pulled three mugs down from a cupboard and began filling them with coffee.
"Damn, you guys really eat stuff like this all the time?" CJ asked as he took a bite of the Pop Tart and was almost overpowered by the sweetness of it. The look on his face caused Briggs and Cowboy to smile.
"Nah," Cowboy said, "Only when we don't have any Twix Bars or M&M's handy. How do you take your coffee CJ?"
"Black."
"Okay kids, we've got work to do this morning," Briggs said, changing the topic and becoming her usual serious self. She tore a piece of paper off of a note pad before scribbling something down. "Charlie, see if you can get a message through to Uncle Mike. If you talk to him, get the sit-rep for the bunker. If you receive any communications from Dillon, let him know we're heading out and will be incommunicado for an indeterminate amount of time. After that, finish getting the Intel downloaded and then close up shop in the Senator's study. Wipe everything."
"You got it," he said, grabbing up his coffee mug and heading for the door to the hall.
"Who all have said they're leaving today?" Ana asked, returning to her former topic as Cowboy left the room.
"The ten of us on my team," Briggs said, "along with yourself and Monica, CJ, Michael, Kenneth and Terry."
"You can count me in too," Nicole said softly.
"Seventeen it is," Briggs said. "I'll try to contain my excitement. Since you're coming with us, you really shoulda been out at the gates with us last night working on your night firing skills kid," she called as she to grabbed up a coffee mug and exited the kitchen into the garage once more, CJ doing likewise and following behind her.
"That was weird," Ana commented.
"Yea, she was almost friendly there for a few minutes," Monica agreed. "Wonder what brought that on."
"I think she got laid last night," Nicole said, blushing slightly.
"Really?" Monica said, smiling devilishly. She leaned closer to Nicole, always appreciative of new gossip. "And what makes you think that?"
"Well, when I was leaving my room this morning, I kinda saw her come out of her room with CJ," she said quietly.
"That's it? He could have stopped by on his way down the hall or something," Monica said, sounding disappointed.
"Um, he was putting his shirt on and they were kissing and stuff. I'm pretty sure he spent the whole night there," Nicole stammered. Looking around the kitchen she suddenly asked, "Hey, has anyone seen Chips?"
"No, not since last night," Ana told her.
Abandoning her cereal, Nicole hopped from the counter, calling out "Chips! Where are you?" as she left the kitchen.
"That girl is going to drive me nuts with that dog," Monica muttered.
"She's just fixated on him right now," Ana explained. "She's pretty much substituting her affections for her family on the dog. He loves her just as unconditionally as they did."
"Well so does Terry, and he's much less annoying than that walking flea bag," Monica declared.
"It's not the same Monica," replied Ana. "Terry's just a guy, still a kid himself really. With him it's that first puppy love excitement, a distraction away from everything else that's going on around her. With Chips, he's kind of like a security blanket, only with four legs," she smiled.
In the garage, CJ and Briggs climbed aboard two of the quads that they'd loaded up their duffels on earlier, along with Cowboy's gear. Heading off down to the helipads, the twosome were actually enjoying themselves for a few brief moments, racing on the quads. It was a surreal, stolen moment of freedom away from the reality of the world. Cowboy's voice over the radio brought reality back to them.
"Kenny, it looks like we've got some company moving in our direction. I didn't realize the Senator had radar hooked up in here. Anyways, it appears to be a single aircraft approaching the northeast quadrant of the estate, coming in fast."
"Towards the helipads?"
"That's affirmative."
"Shit, it can't be Scarecrow already, it's too soon. I imagine he'd bring a bigger force than a single helicopter could carry."
"Not if it's another Stallion."
"Shit. Me and CJ are on it."
They sped towards the stables, pulling inside the front doors. "Head up into the hay loft, get the window facing the helipad opened up," Briggs told CJ as she hurried towards their waiting helicopters.
"Where in the hell do you think you're going?" CJ yelled over the radio.
"Jesus CJ! You trying to deafen me?" she ground out in reply. "I'm going to get the M82 from the Stallion. If it is Scarecrow's strike force, maybe I can bring the bastard down." After a brief pause Briggs exploded over the radio, "Who the fuck has been messin' with my damn helos!"
"What?" CJ asked in confusion.
"Nevermind, I'll explain later."
The helicopter was just coming into view when Briggs joined CJ in the hay loft. Swiftly getting the M82 into position, and peering through the scope at the aircraft, Briggs said, "Looks like it's an AH-6, probably an advance scout making sure we're here."
"You think they're gonna cause us any problems then?"
"I'm not taking any chances, if they disable that Stallion we're fucked, ain't nobody getting outta here without that. I want to try to bring them down, maybe get one of the crew alive to interrogate."
"If you shoot it down, isn't there a good chance they could crash it into our helicopters anyway?"
"Shit. You're right, they're too close."
"So what now?"
"We wait, see what they do, try and hope for the best that they don't come in for a strafing run."
The AH-6 approached, doing a flyby of the helipad and stables, but not firing.
"Cowboy, any chance they're transmitting and you can pick up what they're saying?"
"That's a Negative Kenny, either they're scrambling the signal or they're maintaining radio silence."
"They're coming in for a landing," Briggs reported over the radio. Turning to CJ she said, "I'm going down below, see if I can't get a couple of prisoners. Cover me."
"Kenny.." he started to say, but she'd already slipped away. "Watch your ass down there," he radioed.
"Affirmative. If you fire, try to keep at least one of them alive, I've got some questions for them."
She crept from the stables slowly, slipping through a door into the fenced goat pen in the rear, overlooking the helipads. Crouching low, she moved along beside the wooded fence, using that and the tall grass which grew beside it for cover. She stopped beside a large 4x4 fence post, pulling her rifle up and peering through the scope, watching as the AH-6 touched down. One door of the helicopter came open and, crouching low, the passenger alit from the aircraft, weapon at the ready. He continued to make his way around the helipad, inspecting the other helicopters for possible threats. At last, he waved an all clear to the pilot who swiftly joined him on the ground.
"Fucking amateurs," Briggs muttered. Moving carefully once more, she made her way to the far corner of the pen where a cluster of Maple trees grew just outside the fence, providing shade for the animals within. Using the trees for cover, she climbed over the fence, dropping almost silently to the ground outside. She moved forward slowly once more, eyes intent upon the two men making their way towards the stable.
"CJ, be ready," she softly said over the radio, "two tangos are heading in your direction." As they moved from view, Briggs left the cover of the trees and sprinted across the open grass until she was once again alongside the rear of the barn. As she reached the corner nearest the helipad she stopped, hearing the two men from the Little Bird talking, making radio contact with their command.
"That's affirmative sir, tell Scarecrow, we've made contact with the terrorists' helicopters, they are indeed in residence at his parents' estate, probably a hostage situation. There's no sign of any guards around the helipad. Yes sir, I'm sure we haven't been spotted, as I said sir, there's no sign of guards or watches of any sort here."
Briggs smiled. So that's how Scarecrow got his scout team, he borrowed them from another stronghold, told them they were hunting down terrorists. Probably blamed this whole outbreak on her team. And these guys were about useless, declaring the area to be secure without doing a full search of the perimeter. It was going to be almost too easy to take them out.
"Kenny," CJ's voice whispered over the radio. "I don't know your location, or if you can already see them, but the crew of that Little Bird are standing almost directly below me. I don't have a clear shot."
The sound of a barking dog suddenly filled the air around them. Briggs felt like pounding her head up against the stable wall. Chips came running full out towards the men barking, the one time he ever went after people. Then Nicole came running across the lawn, "Chips, where are you honey? Chips! Come here boy! There you are, come on honey!"
She spotted the two strange soldiers a second after Chips took off running back to her.
"Halt, stay right where you are," the soldier who'd been on the radio called out. Nicole froze in fear and Briggs made her move. Leaving her rifle behind and pulling out the HK Model 23 pistol instead. Swiftly she stepped out from around the corner, the two soldiers had their backs to her. Raising the pistol she took the one on the right down with a single shot to the back of his head. The one on the left, momentarily distracted by the sound of the shot and the sight of his partner collapsing behind him was ill prepared for Briggs attack. Pivoting on her right foot, she quickly delivered a spinning heel kick to the second soldier's head, driving it into the side of the stable in the process. He dropped to the ground unconscious. Briggs stooped down to remove the gun and the radio from his reach and then reached out to check his pulse. He would live, at least until she finished with her interrogation anyway.
"Kenny?" CJ's voice came over the radio.
"I'm okay, both of the tangos have been neutralized. Bring the jeep around, we've got a prisoner to interrogate."
Nicole came hurrying to where Briggs stood, Chips right on her heels.
"Briggs, what's happening? Who are these guys," she panted.
"Uninvited guests. Grab me some rope, I want to get this one here tied up before he comes to."
Crouching down beside Chips, Nicole pulled a length of rope from the saddle bags he wore on his back. "You...You killed the other one," she said as she handed the rope over.
"Very astute."
"But that, that's like murder," Nicole stammered.
"No, it's self defense. He was armed and he would have done exactly the same thing to either of us if the situation was reversed," Briggs said, making short work of tying the hands and feet of the unconscious soldier. CJ arrived with the jeep just then, sparing either of them from discussing the situation further.
"Grab his shoulders CJ, let's get him loaded into the back."
"Damn, for a skinny guy he sure weighs a ton," CJ grunted as they lifted him into the back of the jeep.
"Nicole, grab that radio equipment from the ground and load it into the jeep," Briggs called out.
Nicole hesitated for a moment before complying. As she reached for the radio she caught a glimpse of the other soldier. He lay on the ground with his head turned towards her, his eyes already glazed over as he seemed to watch her every move. There was a gaping hole through his forehead where the bullet had exited, the sight was somehow less disturbing to her than those staring eyes. She swallowed hard before grasping the radio and carrying it over to Briggs.
"What now?" she choked out.
"We take this sonuvabitch back up to the house for interrogation," Briggs said. "Can you drive one of the quads back up to the house?"
"No, I've never drove one before."
"Then you ride shotgun in the jeep with CJ, keep your eye on this one in case he comes to," Briggs told her. Looking over to CJ she said, "I'll meet you up at the house."
The interrogation began a scant twenty minutes later.
"So, Smith is it?" Cowboy asked the helicopter pilot who was now bound to a chair in the Senator's study.
"Smith. John M. Warrant Officer. 254-94-2101," the pilot replied.
"Smith it is," Cowboy said. "Now, why don't you tell us who sent you here."
The pilot quoted his name, rank and social again, refusing to say anything more. Briggs shook her head, this was taking too long, costing precious time for their departure, and allowing Scarecrow the opportunity to move closer. It was time to try a new tactic, a little 'good cop, bad cop.'
"So seeing as how you're such a dumb ass as to make radio contact with your command, before making sure the area was secured that is," Briggs said to goad him, earning a dark look from the bound pilot, "I gather that the Scarecrow must have radioed your command. Probably fed them a line of shit, calling us terrorists most likely."
Watching his reaction, Briggs took a seat on the couch, casually leaning back. It was only the pilot, Briggs, Cowboy, CJ and Michael in the study, the others having been locked outside to keep them from interfering. Although she imagined the rest of them were probably waiting just outside the door trying to hear what was happening.
Briggs continued, "Now, this being the case, your presence here is presumably because Scarecrow got nervous. He probably figured that by this point someone from our command had tipped us off that he was on his way with a strike force. And I suppose when you saw our helicopters, with no guards in sight, you got stupid. Stupid people decide to do stupid things like some sabotage work, on your own, to insure we can't fly out before Scarecrow arrives. Hell, he's a big name in political circles, has a little bit of Black Ops mystery attached to the name, you probably figured it would be a nice little coup for you to impress him. Help capture the so-called terrorists that let loose the plague." She rose from the couch then, slowly pacing a circle around the bound pilot, avoiding the curious looks of CJ and Michael.
"So am I getting warm, Smith?" Briggs asked, stopping close to his side, but just out of his line of vision.
"Go to hell," he answered.
"I'm already there."
"Look man, we're just trying to get through this mess alive," Michael said suddenly. "Can't we work together on this? There's few enough of us left as it is."
"I don't cooperate with terrorists," Smith said angrily.
Briggs laughed harshly. "But that's just what you're doing by helping Scarecrow. Only you're too dumb to realize it."
"Bullshit," he replied.
Briggs resumed her pacing for a moment before speaking. "See Smith, this brings us to the crux of our problem. You have information that I want, and whether you're willing to believe me or not when I say we're innocent, every minute you delay, is another minute you're buying for the assholes that started this plague. It's a minute closer to Scarecrow's arrival. So, the way I see it, we can do things in one of two ways." She stopped her pacing, standing before him. There was a long moment of silence.
"What's that?" he finally asked, unable to bear her cold, silent stare.
"The first way is the easy way for you. I ask you a question and you give me an honest answer. We do this until I know what I need to know, and then I leave and you're free to relax in the lap of luxury here until Scarecrow arrives to return you to your post."
"And the second option?"
"That's the easy way for me," Briggs said, a grim smile touching her face causing the pilot to swallow hard. "This one goes something like this, I ask you a question. If you don't answer, or I think you're bullshitting me," she hefted her HK Model 23, "I put a bullet in you. We'll start with your ankles for the first two wrong answers, then we'll move up to your knees. Plenty of joints to hit from there up, although usually it doesn't take but two shots before somebody sees the light and starts talking."
"Briggs, you can't be serious," Michael said.
"Unless you want your ass booted from the room, you'll be quiet," Briggs told him.
Cowboy spoke up, "Let me suggest you take option one Smith. Easier on everyone that way, you'll save yourself a lot of unnecessary pain. They don't call her the Wraith for nothing."
That caught the pilot's attention. "The Wraith is just another legend, a Black Ops myth. He doesn't really exist. Just like the Holy Trinity," he said nervously.
"He most certainly does exist," Briggs said stiffly, "only he is a she. And the Holy Trinity, three Black Ops specialists, acting as judge, jury and executioner." She leaned down close, looking Smith in the eyes with a cold stare. "Scarecrow the judge, Cowboy the Jury, and Wraith the executioner. There's always some truth in a good myth." Standing, she gave the pilot a wicked smile as she brandished the HK Model 23.
The pilot turned ashen. "You're not serious, you can't be."
Michael started to speak again, but CJ grabbed his arm, shaking his head a negative. "You'll just make things worse," he whispered quickly.
"We can't let her do this!" Michael hissed in reply.
"Just give her a minute more, if she tries anything we'll stop her," CJ whispered back, silently hoping against hope that it wouldn't be necessary.
"Wanna find out Smith?" Briggs asked. He shook his head. "So," she drawled, cocking her weapon, "which option is it going to be then."
"I can't tell you anything," he said at last. "They'll kill me if I do."
"And I'll kill you if you don't. Your choice. What's it going to be?" she asked, once more staring him in the eyes.
"If I tell you what you want to know, you have to take me with you when you go," he pleaded.
"Deal. Now who sent you?"
"It's like you said, Scarecrow contacted my command. Told them he was out hunting down the terrorists responsible for turning loose the plague. He said that you knew he was hunting you and that you were holding his parents hostage here at their estate. He asked if we could send a recon patrol out to verify you hadn't flown the coop yet, try to get an estimation on troop strength."
"Why'd you set down? You could have done all that safely in the air."
"My co-pilot got cocky, said if we sabotaged your helos, kept you from being able to lift off, we could make a name for ourselves after all this was over. We'd be given credit for helping to take down your team, be something like national heroes."
"Where's your command located?"
"We appropriated a ski resort in Aspen after our post fell."
"And where was Scarecrow's last known position?"
"Somewhere between Poplar Bluff and Springfield, Missouri as of yesterday afternoon sometime."
"For the record, if I was holed up here with his parents for hostages, why would he have to worry about me taking off?" Briggs said at last.
Smith looked down. "I guess we didn't really think any of that through, we just took him at his word. Like you said, he's a big name."
Briggs nodded and turned towards her companions. "Bring Zach and Dennis in here for a minute Michael."
"I don't think that's a good idea," Michael said, still unsure whether or not Briggs was going to go nuts and kill the guy tied to the chair.
"It's okay Michael, I'm not as crazy as I sound sometimes. I just want to make a point to Mr. Smith here," she told him. He stared at her for a moment before finally moving to the door. A few moments later he returned, ushering the two boys in front of him.
"Smith, this is Dennis and Zach. We airlifted them out Kansas City, they were trapped inside their apartment. Do they look like terrorists to you?" Briggs asked. When the pilot didn't answer she continued, "We picked up CJ and Michael here along with a group of civilians that had barricaded themselves into a shopping mall in Everett, Wisconsin. How about them? Do they look like terrorists?"
"No," Smith finally answered.
"This is the kind of people that make up better than half of my team. Just so you know what you're dealing with in case you've lied to me at all. It's not a bunch of soldiers who'll suffer for it." She turned towards the door, "CJ, cut him loose."
As Briggs walked to the door, Michael grabbed her arm, drawing her to a halt. "Wait, all that drama, the threats about killing him, and that's all the information that you wanted from him?" he asked incredulously.
Briggs smiled. "No. That was a little psychological mind game. I threatened him, and he found out my questions weren't too bad afterall. He didn't have to go into too much detail, shit, nothing he said except for the location of his HQ and Scarecrow's last known whereabouts was any kind of major information, none of itwould get him killed. Letting us get away, now that would be a different story."
"So what was the point of all that then?"
"You'll see."