The team had opened up to me slowly, I guess it was because I didn't talk or smile much. But that wasn't the weird part.
Flag was absent.
The rest of the week was uneventful. I got used to the routine of the team's downtime. By Friday I was able to recognize, if not name, almost all the officers at the base.
Every day, I watched anxiously until the rest of the Alpha Dogs entered the cafeteria without Flag. Then I could relax and join in the lunchtime conversation.
Mostly it centered on a trip to the local bar within of the base in two days that Hayes was putting together.
I was invited, and I had agreed to go, more out of politeness than desire.
By Saturday I was perfectly comfortable entering our situation room, no longer worried that Flag would be there. For all I knew, he had gone on leave.
I tried not to think about him, but I couldn't totally suppress the worry that I was responsible for his continued absence, ridiculous as it seemed.
My first weekend in Alpha Dogs passed without incident. Kowalski, unused to spending time in the unusually empty barracks, worked out most of the weekend.
I cleaned the medical cabin, got ahead on my notes and inventory, and wrote my brother some bogusly cheerful e-mails.
I spied the team's dossiers from the shelf across the room. Curious, I opened the one by one, hoping it would give me an insight to their backgrounds.
After studying most of them, my hands fell on Colonel Flag's. I hadn't yet had the chance to find out exactly what made him tick.
Reluctantly, I opened it.
TOP SECRET was stamped across the page.
His folder was thicker and heavier than the others; the package is supposed to be a long dossier of everything you've done as a Seal, minus the bar fights.
Everything in Flag's package was his service record, medical chart which was several pages. You could almost write a novel on this man's accomplishments and medical notes.
Even his Silver Stars and Bronze Medals were in there.
Graduated from West Point after high school- skipped college all together.
We has deployed after only two months of USMC (US Marine Corps) training, and after eight tours in the Marine Corps, he became a Navy Seal. Even after the countless ops run under JSOC( Joint Special Operations Command), the DEVGRU ops were never recorded. Because we didn't even exist.
The medical records were brief, but there were a lot of them.
Most issued leave was declined by Flag, and also any psychotherapy that was offered between ops.
There was the occasional acceptance, the longest one recorded at two months after an op under NSWDG (Naval Special Warfare Development Group) in Fallujah.
I remembered this war vaguely on the news while I was stationed in Pakistan. Fifty one Special ops were killed during the Iraq War.
The pieces fit together perfectly.
Kowalski said Flag lost his entire unit at a Jihad stronghold.
I didn't bother to read any of the notes on Flag's injuries just yet, I was preoccupied with the depth of the devastation he must have dealt with after losing several men.
I would accept that, though it wouldn't change the way I felt about him-cautious.
I thought of him as a . . . living stone - hard and cold.
That's true. Seals are set the way we are, and it is very rare for us to experience a real change.
I had no idea if Flag was winning or losing. He needed help. A distraction. Something to give him an edge. Perhaps this was why he took a sudden leave of absence.
This was the life I had signed up for. Was I strong enough? Was I brave enough?
I did drive to the market Saturday, but it was so poorly stocked that I didn't bother to get a thing; I would have to make a date to visit the city soon and find a good supermarket.
The rain stayed soft over the weekend, quiet, so I was able to sleep well.
People greeted me at the target range Monday morning. I didn't know all their names, but I waved back and smiled at everyone. It was colder this morning, but happily not raining.
My phone pinged out nowhere. An unknown number, 999999. This was our secret call to duty.
I dropped everything and ran to the situation room, but no one was there. After a few minutes, the men arrived, chatting amongst themselves.
"Hey, Nurse Joy is here before everyone else." Taylor cheered.
"A case of beer for you," I snarled.
Kowalski laughed.
Hayes happily sat beside me, and he seemed to do that a lot. If there was an empty seat next to me, he took it. Kowalski sat at the other end of the long table, with Spenser close behind.
"Hey, why do they call you Trig?" Hayes asked, grabbing a pen and notepad.
Kowalski scoffed. "It's short for Trigger Finger."
Hayes grinned. "Ahhh."
Perry's eyes panned our faces curiously. "Anyone seen Flag today?"
I shook my head, along with everyone else.
Hayes shrugged. "Bout time me had some time off. Dude is intense."
"How long have you worked with him?" I asked casually.
Spenser took a swig of his coffee. "Well, Taylor and Perry have been here since the stone age, and Hayes and I have only had to put up with two years of servitude."
"Gee, thanks," Perry muttered, standing behind Taylor.
I grinned. "Flag doesn't like anybody, I take it?"
"He doesn't notice anyone long enough to like them." Taylor answered.
I frowned. "High expectations?"
"No- he just doesn't get close to anyone. Ever since the Jihads, I mean." Taylor sniffed and leaned back in his chair, folding his arms as though he were offended.
"Doesn't that bother you?"
Kowalski frowned. "Since when did you care about anyone Trig?"
I scoffed. "I don't care. But if I expect to at least know my Commanding Officer and be able to trust him. We're supposed to be a perfect team. How do you do that if you don't know anyone on it?"
Hayes nodded. "She's right. Maybe we need to give him a break."
Taylor grunted. "He got Steve and Gregg killed. I don't trust him."
"That's why he's making mistakes. Because we don't trust him. He has to prove himself to us. Not the other way around." Hayes replied.
"No, no no. I've known him my entire career. He wasn't always a hard-ass. He's making mistakes because he never takes time off for himself, and tried too bloody hard not to follow the rules. He's been suicidal since the Jihads." Perry sighed. "He needs to get counselling."
"He tried." I answered quickly.
They all turned to me, wide-eyed.
I instantly regretted opening my mouth. "He came to me last week, and told me about Steve and Gregg. He's torn up."
The team looked dazed and confused.
"General's instructions, apparently"
Kowalski bowed his head. "Well, shit." He chuckled. "You? You're no good to talk to, you can't care about anything we tell you. Not even Hayes's blisters."
They laughed.
"You got something on your chin." I sneered.
Kowalski wiped his face, but found nothing.
"Oh, it's just a bit of bullshit."
The others laughed, and mocked Kowalski.
"Okay, Team, let's get started. Since Flag is off base, you get to choose amongst yourselves who is your CO (Commanding Officer) stand in." Lieutenant General Blackburn walked in, and took in a deep breath.
"I hope you practiced your Alpha One's Taylor," Spenser joked and Taylor rolled his eyes. "Eeeelfah woooooon," Spenser laughed, mocking Taylor's Texan accent.
Taylor shook his fist across the table at Spenser, who merely laughed harder.
"Okay, that's enough." Blackburn turned to a woman walking through the door.
"Ellis has the intel." He handed the woman the remote.
"Good morning team. I trust you have all had a nice week off," she started, giving me a smile. "Kowalski and Chapman, that's great. Nice to put faces to the names. Welcome to Alpha Dogs."
I nodded, and waited for the brief. This was Nicole Ellis, the tactical officer we spoke to over the comms for our intel. She was short and lean, looked more like a magazine model than a logistics expert. She had a beautiful figure, the kind that made every girl around her take a hit on her self-esteem just by being in the same room. Her long black hair was tied up in a thick bush.
"You're looking at an abandoned hospital just out of Al-Hool in north-eastern Syria." Ellis held the projector remote over her shoulder casually as she flicked the projector to a satellite image.
"Wait a minute," Kowalski interrupted, smiling. "I'm sorry, but there are a lot of tyre tracks around there for it to be an abandoned hospital… just saying." He sniggered.
The woman rolled her eyes and continued. "We believe the Syrian army are using it as a bio-weapons factory."
"Aren't they supposed to be using the mobile labs by now?" Spenser said seriously, though I could see him trying to hide a smile.
"I'd like to introduce Doctor Lucian from our chem-bio desk," she added.
"Oh no, Doctor Death," Taylor droned sarcastically, stroking is beard.
A Japanese man stood inside the door and made his way to the front, pointing at the projector image on the wall. "Hi, everybody," he spoke perfect English. Although he wasn't wearing a lab coat and glasses like I imagined a scientist would, he still looked like a respected professional. "Our recent success identifying and destroying mobile labs, has convinced them to go back to using static sites."
"And they're choosing hospitals, because they think we're afraid to bomb, right?" I skipped ahead, eager to know where this was going. I was never patient during briefs.
"Yes. The D.O.D (Department of Defence) won't authorise a strike without definitive proof that the site is being used for chemical weapons production." Dr Lucian added.
"And what does the Department of Defence consider definitive proof?" I asked, flipping a pen with my fingers as I leaned over a pad on the desk.
The woman looked down at me, crossed arms. "Physical evidence."
"Samples?" Kowalski concluded.
"Gets better," the woman turned back to the projector screen.
Dr Lucian grabbed the remote and flicked the next screen. "So our satellite passes every seven hours which traverses the area for twelve seconds and takes six photos."
The projector map of the hospital didn't change, but brown spots emerged on the screen, and multiplied each time he clicked the button. "Three passes ago, it took these."
"Those black shapes are?" Taylor frowned.
"Dead cattle." The woman confirmed proudly, crossing her arms again.
"Wow, they're definitely had a leak, didn't they?" Kowalski mumbled.
The woman began to pace around the desk, watching us as we all examined the photos. "Heavy fighting in the area lasted a few days, we believe an errant shell hit the stockpile."
"When does access close?" A note in Kowalski's voice suggested he was in.
"We'll be monitoring the Syrian troop movements the best we can. Get ya in and out in a hurry." Blackburn was looking at Kowalski with a reassuring nod.
"How big is the guard force?" Hayes added.
"So far we reconned a single six man unit." Dr Lucian replied.
"You're tellin' me they got a chemical weapon in this factory and there's only six guys guarding it?" Taylor could barely believe what he heard.
"Yeah, unless they were missed by the satellite analysts? If it not for the cows, they'd never have found the place."
"Best guess what they're making?" I asked.
"Based on the regime's history, Zerine, or VX." The woman sighed.
My eyes flicked down to her ID card hanging from the lanyard around her neck.
"One of those is the bad one, right?" Spenser urged.
Dr Lucian looked uncomfortable, but stood forward. "Ah, Zerine, is pretty nasty stuff, a bucket full of it would kill every man woman and child on the planet. But you're probably thinking about VX. It's widely regarded as the most dangerous substance man's ever created."
"So we're actually gonna have to handle this stuff?" Taylor forward in his chair with interest.
Blackburn nodded at Taylor. "I trust you all to decide the team leader. Good luck." He got up and abruptly left.
"Right. Who says you never take us anywhere nice?" Perry scoffed.
Hayes nodded, looking at Taylor. "You up?"
"Nuh-uh." Taylor answered. "I got no commanding skills."
Kowalski chuckled. "No one is touching it? Seriously?"
"You do it then," Taylor sneered.
Kowalski shook his head. "Not me, but Chapman has run a few ops in green team."
They all turned to look at me, surprised.
My eyebrows shot up. "What?"
Taylor nodded. "Yeah, let's see what Nurse Joy can do. Be a shame if Flag couldn't keep his job…"
"Knock it off," Perry snapped.
Kowalski shrugged his shoulders. "No one wants the job? Really?" He looked back at me, hopeful. "Come on, Trig, take one for the team."
"Fine."
Taylor clapped his hands in obvious relief. "Thank you, Jesus."
The beginning of a new op did not give me the pleasure it seemed to give the other SEALs. Actually, I felt nervous to the point of nausea whenever I thought of it. I tried to not think of it.
But it was hard to escape such an omnipresent topic as commanding a team of Tier One operators on a real op. No drill. This was the real thing, with real consequences.
I was determined not to let the other know how nervous I really was about it. My thoughts flashed to Flag, mimicking his way of thinking.
"Look, we can't even get a drone up? I gonna assume we can't helo in." I stood up to get an unnecessary close up on the projector.
Kowalski slapped the table, triumphant. Kowalski had to be the happiest man in the room, glad that his best friend has stepped up to take lead. If he thought he was going to get the easy jobs, he had me mistaken.
The others seemed to be happy they didn't have to fill the Colonel's shoes.
"Russians are threatening to shoot down anything that crosses the Syrian air space." Nicole replied.
We fell silent, trying to think of another way in.
I crossed my arms thoughtfully. Planes and vehicles would be visible by drones. So we needed to get around the drone… or above it…
Finally, I found an idea. "We jump in. Hey-ho,"
"Oh yeah, Hey-ho," Kowalski jumped to his feet in excitement. "We bail out in Iraqi air space then fly to the target under cam."
Taylor laughed. "Look at the rookies, taking on asymmetrical warfare."
"That's too many syllables for you." I replied with a grin, turning back to Ellis. "That's right. The problem is getting out," I turned and paced, staring at the floor as if it had all the answers.
"How far to the boarder?" Kowalski asked.
Nicole looked over her shoulder at him. "Eighteen kilometres."
"What's the nearest QRF (Quick Reaction Force)?" I added.
"Special forces ODA (Operational Detachment Alphas) are working at the boarder." Nicole smiled.
"Have them standing by, we clear the target, they come in and pick us up. Boom." I looked over at Kowalski and nodded with a devious grin.
"The Russians are seen in the border area right? The D.O.D would never authorise any ground movement with the possibility of Russian contact." Perry leaned against the wall, arms folded.
"D.O.D has no balls," Taylor got out of chair and mumbled something slurred.
Nicole stared at me from over the table. "We could get you local vehicles."
"How many?" Kowalski had a flare for intel.
"I couldn't count on more than two or three?" she guessed.
I held up three fingers and frowned. "Three?" I whispered. "It could work if we keep our numbers small. How many SMATs (Supply Maintenance Assistance Team)?" I pointed at Nicole.
"You have one EOD (Explosive Ordnance Disposal) for the contamination."
Kowalski nodded. "So that's all we need?"
"And him." Nicole pointed at Dr. Lucian, who stood quietly in the corner.
Everyone in the room turned to look at him.
"What?" Hayes spluttered.
"It's not my idea, I assure you." Dr. Lucian protested.
"Another contribution from the good idea fairies that sent you." Taylor threw a handful of peanuts in his mouth and looked at me, cynically.
Nicole sighed. "We still have no idea if that factory is actively contaminated."
"Why, the Syrians didn't clean it first?" Taylor sniggered.
"As far as we can tell, they pulled their scientists out," The Doctor made a quote hand signal as he spoke. "And locked the place down. So they could pacify the area."
We looked at each other dubiously.
"I'm on point." Spenser declared suddenly.
"Hell no, you're not." Kowalski argued.
"I'm on point," Spenser repeated.
Taylor leaned back in his chair comfortable and satisfied while observing the debate.
"I'm on point," Kowalski growled.