Chapter 8

The day came when their precious window of opportunity would soon be up. The fall was in full swing now and ice cream sales would soon cease. When the ice cream trucks stopped rolling, there would be a great possibility that "Mr. Frosty's" would no longer be left unoccupied.

As night approached, Sector V would meet at the Donut Shop Headquarters to head off towards the location. There were a lot of changes that were taking place in the KCD. Nigel had learned that Sector V had stood for Virginia and that Chad had made it clear though that there would be more sectors to come. Also, an ambiguous squad was being constructed by Fanny Fulbright, known as Sector K, which would work as the containment and clean up sector to make sure that damage control stayed a top priority.

Nigel smiled as he waited for the rest of his team in the shadows behind the Donut Shop. The calm fall air was crisp and crackling with tension. He checked his watch and waited longer. Where were they? This mission was critical and they needed to make sure that they had a good head start. If this was an indicator of how the team was going to work together on missions, Nigel started having doubts. The flash of headlights on him interrupted his concerns and a white van pulled up next to him.

Nigel crouched against the cinder block wall of the Donut Shop and tried to look for an exit among the vines and bushes.

It was an ice cream van.

The pink, white and pastel colors on the van were a dead giveaway. There was a loud speaker on the top and a window that had been cut into the side. The giant plastic ice cream cone on the top was looming in the shadow.

Had Nigel been spotted? How many men were in the ice cream truck?

He squinted through the headlights as he felt his muscles begin to tense up. If they were looking for a fight, they were about to get one.

"Nigel!" a whiny voice rang out from the darkness, "Are you coming or what?"

Nigel's blood pressure dropped as he realized that the silhouettes' that he was trying to make out in the cab were his teammates.

He frowned at his own impulsiveness and pulled his shades lower into his eyes as he marched towards the side door and wrenched it open. He rolled his eyes when he noticed that where it should say "ICE CREAM" in large letters, this van actually said, "ICE KREAM". Hoagie was seated in the driver's seat with his trademark aviator's cap and goggles; he also sported a goofy looking smile and gave Nigel a high-five when Nigel got in the passenger seat.

"Are you ready pal?" he said with grit in his voice, "We're going to kick some butt!"

Hoagie put the van in reverse and pulled out of the alleyway and into the road. They were headed towards the location on the map.

"This van looks REALLY good," Nigel said as he looked around, "I really thought it was an ice cream truck at first!"

"Yeah," said a smart voice from the back, "So we noticed!"

Nigel turned around to see Abby and Kuki sitting in jump seats in the back of the van. Kuki seemed to be trying to get ice cream out of one of the dispensaries attached to the wall, not realizing that it was just a prop. The van was loaded with several milk crates in the back and they weren't filled with ice cream.

"You guys did a good job," Nigel said, "We haven't even started yet and I'm already proud of you!"

"Well," Hoagie said, "What can I say? That's n-ICE of you!" he started giggling to the chagrin of the passengers in the back.

"Seriously," he continued, "It was pretty easy to find a beat up van and Kuki is responsible for the paint job. Abby is…"

"I'm responsible for the fireworks, baby!" came the confident reply.

"Ooh!" Kuki said with excitement in her voice, "There are going to be fireworks!"
Nigel tuned out as Kuki started going off into a rant about how great fireworks were. He had to concentrate on the mission at hand.

It was a simple plan. Rachel, who was online with several other operatives at the Donut Shop, had learned that two of the ice cream men happened to live down the road from each other. She had parked her roadster in an inconspicuous spot around the corner earlier that evening. She knew that there would be NO way that they would allow any type of media or police investigation into their circles, so the plan was to take an old vehicle and disguise it to look like an ice cream van. This van would be loaded with a trivial amount of explosives. It would be enough to get the neighborhood's attention without killing anyone or causing serious property damage. It would also get the attention of the police and the news media, something that the ice cream men would certainly scramble over themselves to stop. After all, what would an ice cream truck be doing with explosives? The investigation that would ensue would be devastating and distract them perfectly for a long time.

Sector V would use that cover to infiltrate Mr. Frosty. Since it would be occupied, if it were truly what they believed it to be, it would almost most certainly be emptied if this faux organization believed that they were about to be exposed. Rachel believed that they had military experience and she banked that they would abandon their posts and run to the support of their coworkers if they thought they were under attack.

Hoagie pulled around the corner to the house that was listed as "Mr. Frosty". The house stood alone in a small amount of acreage, away from the other houses. That would certainly be advantageous if the house was used as a way station as Rachel had predicted. Hoagie dropped them off at the corner and kept driving. It was his responsibility to get the ice cream van to the secondary location and pick up Rachel's car to use for a safe extraction.

Nigel, Abby and Kuki began to walk nonchalantly down the sidewalk. They veered off the path as they approached the dark and gloomy beaten up house. They inched along the neighbor's fence, seeking cover in the hedges and tree line.

There was sickly pale blue glow faintly bleeding out from the windows which were either covered by dark shades or boarded up. There was a picket fence that went around the perimeter of the house and a flowerbed full of dead plants in the front. The porch was sagging and the roof was in need of severe work.

At the Donut Shop, there were operatives peering around a large screen TV in the middle of what the operatives were calling the "war room". It was the main open room where Nigel had met all the team early on. The desks were present, as usual, lining each side and making a massive isle in the middle, but at the front of the room on the wall was a large screen TV that served as the focal point of the "war room". At some of the desks were operatives, including Herbert at one desk and Gabe at another. Patton stood in the back of the room with his arms crossed, tapping an orange gloved hand against the opposite arm's elbow. His olive ski cap was pulled lower and his jet black hair spilled out of the front, shading his eyes. He didn't say a word as he stared intently at the TV screen watching his beloved trainees in action.

Herbert was shaking and tapping his foot nervously, obviously annoying Gabe who sat across the aisle at a different computer in his usual white lab coat and purple shirt. He was glaring at Herbert with gritted teeth, causing his braced and bucked front teeth to stick out even worse.

Rachel McKenzie stood in front of both of them with her hands on her hips. She was dressed in her classy tiger striped sweater and turquoise turtleneck; despite the time of night, she still had time to be professional.

Chad Dickson stood in front of the TV screen, in front of everyone with his arms crossed. Dressed in his football uniform, having just come from a practice, he wore his Samurai helmet in support of his team; the glow from the TV lit up the number "274" on his jersey. His face was as stone and the shock of blond hair that usually covered his eyes was still not enough to deter the look that he gave the events unfolding on the screen.

In the darkened room, they were all watching the live satellite feed that Gabe was broadcasting was from a Japanese cable TV satellite he had commandeered a few hours before. They would use it to watch the mission unfold since their own satellites hadn't yet become calibrated. Each face stared in determination and angst as they watched the events take place. They all knew what it meant if Sector V couldn't pull this off. This was a simple mission; in and out. If they couldn't pull off something so trivial, how could they stand when there was more at stake, more obstacles and more resistance?

Suddenly, Chad snapped his hand up and shoved his bangs out of his face, startling Herbert. The tension in the air was thick as they watched Nigel, Abby and Kuki navigate closer and closer to the target. Chad was muttering commentary under his breath wishing that Nigel wouldn't expose their location as readily, that Abby should have ditched the bright red cap, and that Fanny, who was seated at another desk behind Herbert, needed to have her finger on the dial button of her phone to call Sector K in to clean all traces at a moment's notice.

Meanwhile, Nigel and Abby were surveying the scene. It was almost like a competition between the two of them. They would try and profile different people in their classes and predict what kind of trouble they would get into, who they would end up dating, etc. They were like two sides of the same coin, iron sharpening iron and this was the ultimate test for both of them.

"There was a "beware of dog" sign on the fence", Nigel whispered as they surveyed the house, "Did you notice that?"
"There is no doghouse, dig pits, or manure in the yard," Abby said coolly, "Did you notice that?"
Nigel smiled at her through his black shades, "Team, we're going to head through the back door as it will most likely be unlocked or the least fortified, we just need to wait for the signal."

"You know," Abby said thoughtfully, "I was just thinking, we need to consider the fact that we might get captured. We need to have an ace in the hole for that scenario."

Nigel and Kuki looked at her, startled at the suggestion.

She peered at them under the brim of her ball cap, "I mean that we need to have a bargaining chip. Suppose we get in there and they have radios to listen in, or they overhear our radio between HQ and Hoagie, what will we do when they figure out there are two guys and two girls? They will have captured us and then be on the lookout for another guy!"

Nigel scratched his head as he listened, nervous at the potential setback.

"I'm just saying," She continued, "that we're offering up too much information. If they here our radio chatter they will know our REAL names, which is bad enough, not to mention they'll figure out how many are out here. If we can keep them guessing, we might be able to buy time."

"Good point Abby, what do you suggest?" Nigel asked.

"I think we ought to come up with number or letter designations instead of names."

Nigel was floored; it was a stroke of genius. Why didn't they think of that before? It was silly to put their names out there, especially when they were dealing with a group that was supposedly involved in espionage.

"Great idea! I'll be Number 1," he said, motioning to Abby and Kuki, "and you can be 2 and 3."

"That's not really what I had in mind Nigel," Abby said with a smile.

"That's fine Abby, you can be 1 and I'll be 2," Nigel said, embarrassed with his impulsiveness.

Abby giggled, "No, silly, I mean that we should use the numbers to confuse our enemies as to how many of us are out here. I was thinking I could be more like, Number 5; that way the numbers don't indicate how many of us our present".

Nigel grinned back; this was going to work perfectly.

"Did you catch that base?" he whispered, knowing full well that they could hear every word.

"Yes sir, Number 1," whispered Chad's voice, "This is…."

There was a short silence.

"This is Number 274, letting you know that your signal should be given any minute."

Nigel gritted his teeth as he braced himself against the neighbor's fence. He felt every fiber in his body begin to tense up. He could feel the adrenaline pulse through his soul and he felt the desire to wade into his enemies and fight with all he had within him; he felt like a leader. Could Rachel have been right about him after all?

Suddenly, there was a rumbling explosion in the distance. Hoagie had accomplished his mission. Like clockwork, there were only a few drawn out minutes that passed before the garage door flew open harshly and two ice cream vans barreled out and into the driveway. The larger bearded man that Rachel and Nigel had fought before was driving one and the skinny guy with "coke-bottle" glasses was driving the other. One of the vans lagged behind so that three men running out of the front door could catch up and dive in the back. All three of the Sector V teammates noticed that the three ice cream men running out of the front door were carrying firearms.

They were real firearms.

The time to be concerned about the closeness of danger narrowed as Nigel sprung up from the hedgerow along the fence when he saw the ice cream trucks careen off into the distance.

"They are coming for you, Number 2, make sure you are out of sight!" Nigel yelled into his ear piece radio.

There was no reply.

"Hoagie," Nigel yelled, "You're Number 2!"

There was more silence. Had Hoagie not made it out of the truck in time? Was he compromised?

"Ah!" came the high pitched gasp at the other end of the radio, "I get you now! That's right! Number 2 reporting for duty! I'm fine and I'm headed to the extraction point!"

"Great!" Number 1 yelled as he led the charge to the back door of Mr. Frosty's. He ran and flipped up and over the fence, followed closely by Number 5 and 3 as they hopped up and over.

They ran up and Nigel kicked the door open; he didn't even bother seeing if it was locked or unlocked.

"Number 3, you look for a computer and get hacking." He said as he peered around the room, looking for opposition.

"Number 5, let's see if we can find Mr. Frosty." They walked through a heavily used and filthy kitchen as they made their way to the main living room.

The tension back at the Donut Shop was still pretty high as all the KCD officers hadn't moved an inch. They were watching the satellite feed that Gabe had uploaded and had seen all the action unfold. It was to be a simple "in and out" mission; nothing to it. Would Sector V be cut out for it? Number 274 had his doubts. It wasn't that he didn't trust them, he just wasn't sure if they grasped the reality of what life could mean in this new organization.

Number 1 jumped into the living room and ran straight into a hulk on top of which was the grizzled face of an ice cream man. He was in an ice cream man's uniform but his neck was covered in tattoos and his eyes held a darkness that looked as though he was on the verge of seeing a familiar sight…the death of a victim.

Number 1 narrowed his eyes at him through his dark shades and smiled. The man took a step towards Number 1 and was reaching towards him

Mistake one.

Nigel fell to the ground and used his strong arm to support him as he reached up with his free leg and kicked the man in the side of his knee with his steel toed boot. This side swipe caused the man to fall towards the ground to one knee and he took his eyes off of Number 1 to pay attention to the knee.

Mistake two.

Number 1 smashed the man's face in an uppercut as he looked down at his knee. The ice cream man retreated back and scrambled to his feet, pulling a knife from his back pocket. Number 3 had moved around to the side and was on the ice cream man's immediate left. He seemed earnestly shocked to see that that there was more than one person.

"Hi!" Number 3 squealed in a hi-pitched voice waving like a school girl, her green sweater sleeves had already fallen past her hands again and made her look like she was waving a flag.

The ice cream man looked puzzled, "Oh," he said with a start, "Hi!"

Mistake three.

By the time the ice cream man figured out what was going on, obviously disoriented by his knee and bleeding nose, Number 1 had a freestanding lamp and swung it like a ball bat at the ice cream man's head. The shatter of the top half of lamp against the thug's head ended the episode in an eerie silence. The fight was over as quickly as it had started and the ice cream man was on the floor in the midst of splintered wood, lampshade, and glass….out cold.

"Lights out!" Number 1 said with a smirk.

He turned over to Number 3, "That was quite an impressive distraction Number 3; I'm glad that worked!"

"I panicked" Number 3 said, blood red in the face, "I was just scared out of my mind."

"Will you guys knock it off over there and give me a hand!" yelled Number 5 from the back of the room.

Number 1 was impressed again by his teammates; he had never seen Number 5 move past them during all of that.

"Don't worry Number 3," Number 1 said putting his hand on her shoulder, "Just keep that up and you'll work out fine."

Number 1 and Number 3 walked further into the living room and were chilled by what they saw in the darkness. The larger room was lined wall to wall with desks and computers. There were desks with papers stacked on them, maps of the neighborhood tacked to the aging wood paneled walls, computers running live camera feeds and there were rifles, semi-automatic and bolt action variety, as well as boxes and belts of ammo lying up against one whole side of the wall. There were tables set out with pistols and more ammo as well as cleaning supplies. There were power cords running to and from every computer laden desk and large baker's racks that held other telephone related equipment. It was almost too much to take in.

"What is this place?" Number 5 whispered. The room was eerily silent except for the low hum of the computer equipment and the constant clicking of the telephone equipment as it intercepted, and no doubt recorded, phone call after phone call.

Number 1 walked up to one of the computer monitors and watched as it was evident it was recording live feed of people in their homes whom had no idea that they were being watched. The feeds cycled through every few minutes and no few sets of frames were the same. It was like a constant eye upon these people and their lives as they went about their daily business. In this derelict house, in the shadows, these men watched the comings and goings of these people and their children each and every hour. During the days, these same men would wear ice cream uniforms and patrol the streets with smiles painted on their faces as they sold ice cream to the same children and adults whom they had come to know so immorally.

Number 1 felt a shiver run down his spine.

This was the heart and soul of what Rachel feared. She feared that there was an element at work who was taking advantage of a power in which they had seized a long time ago. As he began to recognize senators, congressmen, mayors, police chiefs, and various other high profile families on the seedy monitors, he realized that Rachel had stumbled onto something truly evil. If it had come to this point, it would be reaching out a lot further.

"Number 3," Nigel said with a start, "The flash drive rig that you brought, can you set it up to record some of this live feed? We need to get this information back to HQ and have it analyzed."

Number 3 smiled and pulled out her smartphone and a cable out of her pocket. Pushing up her sleeves again, she plugged it in and started tapping away. It was obvious that she was the one for the job.

"What do you see in there Sector V?" Chad barked, over the radio.

"We see the obvious workings of a well-connected nefarious espionage operation," Number 1 started as he scanned through some of the papers on the desk that Number 5 was handing him. "It's also obvious that they have been at this for quite some time."

Rachel's voice chirped over the radio as well, "Number 1, this is….Number 362."

"Go ahead, 362"

"What can you bring back with you? Is there anything that you can take?"

There was a long pause and Nigel could hear murmuring over the radio static.

"Also," she started slowly indicating her frustration, "Herbert…or…uh…Number…"

Another long pause

"Number 65.3 is wondering if you brought a camera to properly document the crime scene. I'm telling you though not to worry about that and just see what you can pilfer."

"A camera!," Number 1 yelled as he continued to look on the desks and under the desks, "No, I forgot to ask the ice cream man to pose for his mug shot because I was too busy knocking him out cold, tell Herbert that if he wants a picture he can come down here and take it his self and I'll have Number 2 frame it for him!"

The radio went silent but Number 1 was pretty sure he heard Chad laughing before it cut out.

"Anyway," Nigel continued, "I had Number 3 work up a program that would allow us to download anything we might find so we'll have plenty of breadcrumbs for you to work through, Number 362." He smiled in the darkness, hoping she would catch the reference.

Nigel kept taking papers that Abby was handing him and scanning them, putting them in a separate pile. She was almost as good as Rachel was when it came to realizing the importance, or unimportance, evidence that she was going through. Still, they were running out of time, the ice cream men wouldn't leave their posts abandoned for long.

"How much longer does the program have, Number 3?" he asked as he looked around the room for some sort of container.

"Just a few more minutes", came the reply.

"Number 5, check down the hall to see what's down in the bedrooms and take out any hostiles you encounter." Number 1 said as he shoved trash out of the way to get to a weathered looking backpack.

Abby smiled and snuck off into the darkness towards the hallway. Nigel had no doubt in his mind that she was the most capable out of all of them of taking care of her own self. She had a knack for stealth that Patton Drilovsky had mentioned was quite impressive and kept him constantly on his toes. In the survival training, Patton had mentioned that he had actually lost track of her a few times, it was quality that Nigel was sure would come handy more often than not.

"Number 1, you don't have much time left." Chad whispered over the radio, "It's only been about fifteen minutes and the ice cream men will have dealt with their distraction by now."
"Understood," Nigel said as he finished stuffing the last of the papers and flash drives into the backpack. "Team, we're out of here in sixty seconds."

Abby came back from the hall just as quietly as she had left.

"Oh heck, Number 1," Chad whispered anemically over the radio, "You don't have sixty seconds, they're coming back fast. There was a satellite hiccup and we lost the feed or we would have known sooner. They'll have the roads blocked in seconds."

Nigel's blood turned to ice as he heard the news and he jerked his head around to witness Number 3 yank the cord out of the computer and cram the phone in her pocket. The look on her face was colorless and full of fear.

Nigel narrowed his eyes into his black shades and looked straight ahead at the front door. It was not the time for fear; it was the time to act.

"Well, I guess we're going to fight our way out! Number 2, are you on spoke for extraction?" he asked.

"That's affirmative Number 1"

"Number 2, it's going to be a hot extraction; do you copy?"

"Yes sir," said the overly cheerful voice on the other end, "It sure will be!"

Nigel looked at both of his teammates and nodded. He walked up and ripped open the front door. They barreled out of the house with Number 1 leading the charge and Number 5 bringing up the rear.

Nigel could see the alarming glare of headlights coming up the long road leading to the neighborhood, side by side. The ice cream trucks, at least five in number, were flying down the road and there were men with large military style weapons hanging off of the side of some of the van's sliding side doors. Number 5 started to run off towards the sidewalk, followed by Number 3.

This wasn't going to end well.

"Nigel!" she yelled, "What are you waiting for?"

Number 1 was transfixed on the front porch, watching the ice cream men coming closer and being followed by a new pair of red headlights, fast on the approach…and in the sky.

There was a howl as though a jet engine were approaching as a large, dark olive green metallic object began to descend on the ice cream trucks from the sky. There were red lights glaring from underneath it and a large triangle that looked like an oversized trailer hitch that dominated the front of it. Above the glaring red lights there was a long and narrow tinted window but nothing else. On either side of the front half there were large metallic pipes, which had flames coming out of them, pointed away and straight down from the craft.

There were also the bodies of small, single engine jet aircraft strapped sideways to the sides of the large object and one mounted on the top of the very back of the large and long metallic object. Out of these craft, flames were glowing like missile flares.

Number 5 and Number 3 had stopped in their tracks.

"Is that?" Number 5 wondered in apparent disbelief, "Is that a….camper?"

The jet plan laden camper lowered itself until it was skimming on the ground right behind the ice cream trucks. With a burst of speed, the camper used the massive trailer hitch in front to shove the ice cream trucks off course. Each ice cream truck veered wildly, crashing into trees, cars, and some were flipping end over end.

There was a magnificent roar as the two jet engines on the side of the missile rotated to face the opposite direction and shot flames down each side of the camper. Painfully, the machine was trying to come to a sudden stop.

Number 1 felt a new fear wash over him as he realized the missile was headed straight to him. Yet, in his shock, he was unable to move.

"Move Number 1!" he heard in a muffled and slowed down voice, somewhere in the distance, "Get out of the way!"

The roar got louder and louder as the camper seemed to slow down to almost nothing…right in front of Number 1. Had Nigel collapsed in the shock that he was feeling, his nose seemed like it would have touched the edge of the camper, and it seemed so close to him at the time.

The jets on either side rotated a quarter of a turn and were now facing straight up and down and had a strong downward thrust that synchronized perfectly with the large metallic tubes on either side of the front half. The camper was hovering perfectly above the ground.

The camper hovered and moved into a position that was even with the road until it lowered and rested on the ground. The back tires on the camper and the trailer leg on the hitch made a triangle of support as the camper resting, its engines idling.

After a few seconds, the door on the side opened up and an overly excited Number 2 stepped out on the ground.

"Did you see that guys!" Number 2 said laughing and trying his best to do a victory dance, "Was that not the coolest? Everyone, my whole life, accused me of having my head in the clouds too much. Now, I really do, ladies and gentlemen! Anytime you guys need a "hot" extraction, you know who to call…the hottest! Number 2!"

Number 1 collapsed to the ground…out cold.