. .oOo.
Chapter 20 Epilogue
Tense moments at the big red brick building on Haywood, seemed never to end. At nearly the very same place that Aban had been attacked, and subsequently rescued, came another onslaught. This time it looked like the terrorists, who were looking for Aban, were not going to hold anything back.
Another four man team had been sent to finish the job that had been started before. Aban was a loose end that had to be tied off. No one just left the organization, there were rules for this kind of situation. That's just the way it was.
As their car passed slowly by the RangeMan building, automatic machine guns sprayed bullets into the front door and windows. The bullet proof glass gave the men, on duty there, a good few minutes to alert everyone to what was happening. Immediately, all eyes at RangeMan were on the monitors that showed the front of the building.
"Look, there," Anson said, pointing to the shadows moving behind the car as it moved away. "It's a distraction. They wanted us to see them driving around out there."
McKay nodded and Chandler picked up his weapon. "It's now or never," Demo said with heat in his voice. His words were directed to all of the men standing in the circle, watching the action, but he knew it would be Anson who jumped up and led the way. The three of them were joined by two more rangemen who raced up to the roof with them.
With his head set in place, Lester updated Roy and Silvio, at the front desk, as he hurried to get down there with them. By the time he reached the main level, it had begun. With glass crashing around them, two of the terrorists broke through the cracked windows. Gunfire started immediately as one of the men tried to provide cover for the other one to get to the elevator.
He did not get that far. It was a horrible plan. A plan that had no way of working. Silvio was all over the first guy, and Roy was on the other one as Lester joined them and helped take them down. Once both men were contained, the guys looked up at each other. This did not feel right.
Just then, a huge explosion outside, rocked the building. "There goes the getaway car," Lester said, only half joking.
Moments later the final act started. The glow of the burning car lit the faces of the fourth terrorist and his hostage. So this was their last resort. Still not a great plan, grabbing some random person off the street, but far more effective than anything else they had tried.
Lester stood to face them. He had seen this guy, the hostage, before. Usually he was as loud and obnoxious as the rest of his friends that he hung out with. In the grip of a man with a mask over his face, however, the punk kid with facial piercings and tats did not look so tough.
What a bummer, Lester thought. Poor kid, it was a classic case of being in the wrong place at the wrong time. No matter what kind of attitude the kid usually demonstrated, Lester was glad to see that he was smart enough to know to keep his mouth shut now.
Step by step, they got closer. Lester saw Sal moving up behind them, and he locked his blank face in place. Demands were being shouted to him. This guy really did think that he had the upper hand here. He was demanding that Aban be brought to him.
When he was close enough to look Lester in the eye, lowered his voice into a menacing growl. "The boy will die," he said, "If I do not see Aban Lufti here in one minute."
Lester did not say anything, he just stood there. This angered the man, who pushed the kid another step forward and started yelling in his own language. They were nearly face to face now, and still Lester did nothing.
His face twisted in anger just as he was grabbed from behind. His grip loosened on his hostage and Lester grabbed the kid and pulled him away as Sal slammed the man to the ground placing his knee on his throat. "Not one more word," Sal ground out the words with deliberation.
Sirens were heard now, getting closer and closer. Flashing red and blue lights announced the arrival of both the TPD and the fire department. Cars screeched to a halt and officers swarmed the area. Sal waited until Roy and Silvio handed over the men they had before he hauled up the last guy and gave him to the cops. His actions were not gentle nor were they kind. He wanted this man to know that he had made the biggest mistake of his life coming here like that.
From the roof top, Anson looked down at the mess below. Who knew that the rangemen had a small rocket launcher in their arsenal. He glanced over at Chandler now. He stood at ease, the weapon at his side, and the flashing lights playing on his face. It was hard to read the expression.
When they had brought out the weapon earlier, he had been like a kid in a candy store. Lifting it up to his shoulder, he had been impressed with the balance of the weight, all smiles as he looked over the finely crafted piece.
Victor slapped Chandler on the back. "Nice shot man," he said. Chandler smiled, it had been a long time since he'd done anything like this. And while it was nice to see he still had it in him, he knew that his warrior days were over. He handed the launcher to Victor and turned to his friends.
"Lets go home," he said. McKay and Anson couldn't agree more. And together they left the scene, with its bright flashing lights and loud noises, behind them. They had done what they'd come for. Ben's killers had been found. Dealt with. It was time to go.
And though they did not say so. They all knew they would be together again soon. For the funeral. To say a final goodbye to Chef. Those words were too hard to say just yet.
. .oOo.
Sarah, or as she was going by now, Emily, held on tight as Vasya, no Zurie, no David, zipped through traffic on the motorcycle. She suppressed a gasp at the clandestine nature of their life right now. None of what was happening was like anything she had ever done before. Not even acting as a spy in the White House had held this kind of thrill, or danger.
Truth be told, some of that came from the fact that she had never been on a motorcycle before. If she gave it any thought, she'd admit that she had always been too scared to even want to try it. That had not changed, except now there was this part where she got to plaster herself up to the man she had fallen in love with. Suddenly her fears seemed to take a back seat to the sheer joy she felt to be with him this way.
Her grip around him tightened as he zipped through the streets. He seemed to be taking the scenic route through the city. Switching from neighborhoods to the highway, crossing bridges, circling around until she didn't even know where they were. All of a sudden, they ended up near the Pentagon.
Since there was no way to ask him what he was doing, while they were on the bike, Sarah was completely confused. The package in her backpack had airline tickets, why weren't they headed to the airport? When he stopped and turned off the engine, she thought that maybe he would give her an explanation. But he did not move, and he did not speak.
Carefully she climbed off of the bike and walked around to face him. Though he did not look at her, she could see the haunted look in his eyes, and it alarmed her. Sarah grabbed his hands and brought them to her lips. A simple gesture meant to give comfort for whatever seemed to be bothering him.
Slowly his eyes moved to find hers. She held her breath, what could be so bad that he would look like this, she wondered. Zurie took a deep breath and reached for her. Wrapping his arms around her, he finally whispered into her ear.
"I have to do something," he said. "Before we leave, I have to make this right."
Sarah pulled back, understanding beginning to dawn. He had said something like this that night he had said goodbye to her. They were drunk, at least she was. The vodka that he had brought had been unlike anything she had ever experienced, and not being much a drinker anyway, it went straight to her head.
But now that he had said the words, she remembered how intense he had been. His whole life had been a lie, he'd said with quite a bit of venom in his voice. He had been chosen, years ago. Chosen to be this person, to fulfill their plan. The only choice he'd had, he told her with sincerity, was the choice to do the best that he could in the role he'd been given. He'd be dead otherwise.
She had thought that maybe he'd been a little bit drunk too when he had said that. But now, seeing the stricken look on his face, she knew that it had been true. How could that be? She didn't know, but in her heart she knew that she would do anything to put a smile back on his face.
"What can I do?" she asked. He said nothing for a long time. Sarah gently grabbed his chin with her hand and turned his face toward her. "Zurie, tell me what we need to do."
As if coming out of a trance, he looked down at her. She was concerned, she was frightened. He had done that to her and it stabbed at his heart to see her so worried. But he realized that she could help him. At first he had not wanted to get her involved, this was his problem.
How could he ask her. But no, she had offered her help to him. And truly, she was the answer. Zurie kissed her gently on the cheek, and smiled. Her eyes lit up and under the disguise that she wore, he saw the most beautiful woman he had ever met. He had never let himself love another, never in his life had he hoped to know what it would be like to be loved. But it was there in her eyes. Her love. He was the luckiest man in the universe.
Hope bloomed. Maybe this would work after all. Taking his pack from the back of the bike, he pulled out a large manila envelope. Sarah noticed that it was stuffed to its capacity, taped around the edges to keep it together. And, more importantly, it was addressed to one of the directors of Homeland Security.
Without asking, she knew what this was all about. For as long as she had known him, Zurie, or better yet Vasya, had been a spy. She had helped him, for the last year, in getting the secrets to steal from the US and many other governments.
Most of the time she had been able to justify what she had been doing. The greater good, and all that, like Vasya had told her when he recruited her help. But there had been times that the intel, that she had to pass along, seemed too dangerous to let anyone see. Her first instinct was to pretend that she had not heard it, did not know anything about it. At those times she had cringed at the fact that she had taken part in any of this.
If she was right, the contents of this package would ease her conscience, as well as his, by giving these secrets back. Along with the identities of the players they had seen in the game. Knowing what had been stolen, and shared, and by whom, was the first step in containing the damage that could be done.
Knowing that Zurie was the kind of man to follow his conscience made Sarah's heart burst with pride. It would do them both a world of good to get this done. She took the package from him, nodding her understanding.
This would not be a simple thing to do, no one just drops by the Pentagon and hands over a bulging package without raising a bunch of questions and a few alarms. But it was late so they had the cover of darkness to aid them. And the fact that there were fewer people around was helpful too. Zurie had given this a lot of thought.
Getting back on the bike, Zurie took them to the south side parking lot. As was often the case, it was used as a staging area for various events during the year. Right now, a freedom walk was scheduled for tomorrow. Tents were already set up for registration first thing in the morning. If they slipped the package under the tent flap, it would be discovered early the next day.
Keeping close to the row of tents and temporary fencing covered in tarps, he was able to get within a few yards of the main tent. When he stopped, Sarah jumped off and shimmied between the tents to place the package near the entrance. Her heart was pounding and a trickle of cold sweat dripped down her back as she raced back to the bike.
The ride back out of the lot seemed to take forever, but they did not dare go any faster or make any more noise than they had to. Finally they hit the streets and quickly disappeared in the night. Their next stop was the airport, and a few hours later they were in the air.
Sarah was pretty sure that she had seen the last of the states for a very long time. She gazed out of the window, seeing only complete darkness, her thoughts were not on what she was leaving, but on what she had just gained.
Zurie was beside her. She had secretly loved him for so long. But never in her wildest dreams had Sarah ever imagined that he had felt the same way. No matter what the future held for them now, they had each other. And that was all she needed.
. .oOo.
Nia was still in her uniform when she stepped off of the plane. It had not been the way she had intended to travel on her flight home, but nothing about the last few days had been planned. So here she was, a few days early, but ready to see what her future held.
By the time she made her way to the luggage carousel, she had seen the many looks that had been directed her way. Keeping her head up, and smiling in return, she had to admit to feeling that pride that comes with earning this uniform.
Before she saw them, Nia could hear a familiar sound. Even at this short notice, she had a welcoming committee. And when they saw her rounding the corner, her mother led the crowd with her arms open and a big smile on her face. Aunts, uncles, cousins all descended on her. Everyone was here with her. All they needed was some confetti and it could be a parade, she thought a bit facetiously.
It wasn't just her uniform garnering attention anymore. Nothing to be done about it now, Nia loved her family, and she was not unaware of how hard it had been on her mother to have her so far away. But really, this was a little over the top. She moved into the waiting arms and hugged her mom tight.
"Oh, you shouldn't have," Nia laughed. Her mother saw the smirk and playfully hit her shoulder as she stepped back. Still, the gleam in her eyes let Nia know that there was never any doubt that she would welcome home her only daughter with as much fanfare and love as she could muster.
That look could also say that the rest of the day was planned for her, and there was nothing that she could say that would change that. Nia nodded. Off to her mother's house they would go, to a big, loud family party.
The phone call that she wanted to make was going to have to wait. Nia sighed and collected her suitcases. Hoisting her bag onto her shoulder, she moved everyone along. The sooner they got this party started, the sooner she could try to have a quiet moment for that call.
She had missed this, Nia thought, sitting in her mother's backyard, breathing in the damp air and the sweet fragrance of the many roses that bloomed here. Only a few people still remained, but enough that she could not take her leave, unnoticed, just yet.
When her mother came to sit next to her, Nia had her eyes closed. She was listening to the cicadas song that, she realized, was so different from the crickets she had heard just last night. "So," her mother said. "Who is he?"
Nia's eyes popped open, her head jerked around to see her mother laughing. "Who?" Nia repeated the word, dumbfounded. "What do you mean who?" She had not said a word to her about Tank. There had not been time. They had only just met, and besides, she was still trying to work out what had happened.
"Oh, now darlin, there is no fooling me," Nia heard her mother say, through the buzzing in her head. How could she know? "It is plain to see that some man has come along and stolen your heart."
It was no use, Nia had never kept secrets from her mother, and she had not intended to now. Its just that being back home, everything looked different than it had in Arizona. Her doubts and fears made her worry that she had imagined it, seen too much in his looks, his smile, his kiss.
So she told her the story of the very tall, very large gentleman whom she had met only a few days ago. She said that she could not stop thinking about him. That she thought he felt the same way too, because he had been so wonderful, so sweet, so romantic when they had met the second time and had been able to eat lunch together.
Listening as only a mother can, she reached out and touched her daughter's hand. Then she asked the question, the very one that Nia had been wrestling with. "What are you going to do about it?"
. .oOo.
General Douglas Kinkaid did not usually like being kept waiting. But his visit to the pentagon today was a special occasion. He was willing to take the time he needed to speak to the right man. Directed to wait in his office, Kinkaid wandered over and stood by the window with an incredible view.
Overlooking the Potomac, Kinkaid took in the boats below and the fighter planes above. It was an impressive sight. He stood with his shoulders back, and a deep sense of pride filled his chest. The protection and security of this country had been his charge for a number of years. And he was here in that capacity once more.
The door behind him opened and Kinkaid spun around. "Kinkaid," the man said, as he entered and approached his desk. Social pleasantries were not necessary, not for these men, but he smiled and said them anyway. "To what do I owe the pleasure of your visit today?"
"A bit of excitement here today?" Kinkaid said, referring to the extensive wait, but also to the protocol that had placed the building in a temporary lock-down shortly after he arrived.
The reluctance to say anything, to make up a plausible excuse, flashed over Director Scade's face. But this was his old friend, if he couldn't be honest with him, who could he trust?
"A package arrived, and not in the usual way," he said with meaning. "And you know what we do when that happens," Scade said.
"Can I ask what was in the package?" Kinkaid made his way to the chair opposite the desk. He sat, watching those facial clues carefully. He and Ken Scade went way back, both had the military background to give them some perspective to what had happened today.
"Intel," he said simply. "Arrived in a package designed and delivered to get attention."
"Interesting, have you checked any of it out?" Kinkaid asked, knowing full well that Ken would not even be here until after he knew what they were dealing with. In light of what he himself had to show him, Kinkaid was more than interested in what other intel had shown up so mysteriously.
The brief discussion that followed told Kinkaid exactly what he needed to know. By some strange coincidence, the package that had arrived today confirmed what he had. Because what they both had in common was the fact that Chef Ben Davron had worked with both sources of this intel.
From what Scade had shared, Kinkaid was pretty sure that the package had only contained a comparatively limited amount of information concerning the network of spies that existed in and around the White House. What he was bringing put a whole new perspective to that information.
Kinkaid sat back in his chair, his fingers steepled in front of him. The relaxed stance was meant to give emphasis to what was said next, and Scade knew it. He leaned forward, not wanting to miss a thing. He gave his friend a small nod.
"Ken, I have something to give you, something that you need to see," The director's eyebrow rose a hair, but he still tried not to seem too eager. They both knew the drill. But this was not about negotiations or having the upper hand.
"I'm listening," Scade said, waiting.
Kinkaid pulled out his own laptop with the zip-drive. That brought another look of surprise from Scade. "Take a look," Kinkaid said, as he slid the computer across the desk.
Scade spent a silent five minutes looking at the data. But it did not take him that long to see that what they had here would blow the lid off the espionage game in the capital. Presently, he let out a long breathy whistle and looked up in amazement.
"Doug," he said. "Where did you get this?"
It was quite a day for the DOD. Under the direction of Director Scade the sources information about terrorist cells and classified information were shared with the appropriate agencies. Kinkaid watched long enough to see that he had started the ball rolling. When he left, he gave Scade the copy of the drive, but let him know that he was keeping the original for security purposes. Yeah, they knew the drill.
Kinkaid was satisfied, and quite pleased that things had worked out the way they had today. In the back of his mind, he wondered who it had been that had come to the point that they wanted to end the way things were being done in DC. They had taken a risk, every bit as much as Aban had. Though by doing it anonymously it had let them hide under an extra layer of protection. If they were ever discovered, there could be some ugly reprecussions. But that was a thought for another day.
Right now, he had another task. This one much more unpleasant, and very personal.
. .oOo.
For the moment, things had quieted down at RangeMan. Not quite back to business as usual. That would not happen until their guests had left. Ranger's friends were taking advantage of the time they had left to be together. They had all ended up in the break room to wait. That was probably because Ella had worked her magic again, with enough food to create a festive mood as they waited.
Stephanie reached up to grab the napkins from one of the higher shelves. She had been helping Ella set out everything for lunch and snacks for everyone. Ranger saw her when he entered the room and came up from behind her. When he wrapped his arms around her, she let out a little squeal of surprise.
That drew the attention of everyone in the room. And the teasing began. Ranger in love was a sight to behold and his friends felt the need to mark the occasion with whistles and clever comments. Most of which Ranger pretended not to hear. It was like having little brothers along an a date, and they earned a few impressive eye rolls from both Ranger and Stephanie.
Ian, formerly known by the team as 'Saint' for his tendency to quote scriptures, stepped up and clapped his hand on Ranger's shoulder. "You know man," he said. "I'm a licensed priest now. I can perform a marriage ceremony any time, anywhere you want.
The laughter erupted again. They were enjoying this, but what they didn't know, as Ranger sat down, was that he was filing away that comment for future use. He had not done so yet, but it was his intention to give Stephanie the ring he had for her. The right time had not come up yet. But it would not be long now, he couldn't stand to wait much longer.
Tank had also noted Ian's comment. This was a bit of a shock to him. Thoughts of marriage were not usually the first thing on his mind. At least they never had been before, but after meeting Nia, things had started to change. Realizing that he thought of her so often because he wanted to have her in his life was a revelation. No one had ever touched his heart and mind like this.
Quietly Tank walked out into the hall. Pulling out his phone, he tried to find her again. This time he asked to speak with Mitch Gielen, hoping to bypass the air-headed secretary who couldn't seem to find Nia, every other time he'd called.
The ploy worked and Tank smiled when Mitch came on the line. That smile faded at the news that Nia was no longer there. His heart nearly stopped, he suddenly felt cold. The idea that he would never find her again paralyzed him. Mitch was still talking, but it was more like a buzz in his ear as Tank tried to clear his mind from the depressed fog that had moved in.
"...home in just a few hours." Gielen was saying. Tank caught the tail end of that statement, and felt hope spread its warm blanket over him. Mitch knew where she lived, he could still get that information, meaning that he still had a shot at finding her.
Interrupting him, Tank desperately asked for Nia's phone number at home. Mitch seemed to take such pleasure in sharing this information with him, and the moment he had it, Tank tried to end the conversation. "Thanks, I appreciate it," he said before ending the call and immediately entering the number he'd been given.
In a delayed reaction, his heart started pounding so loud he could hear it in his ears. This was a local area code. Nia lived in New Jersey. He'd been prepared to fly across the nation to find her and she was right here. He had to take a deep breath as all of this new information was processed in his mind.
Overlooking the north rim of the Grand Canyon, Mitch looked out at the view as he slowly placed the phone back in its cradle. A very satisfied smile spread across his face. If he was not mistaken, he had just witnessed the proof that this man was as in love with Nia as she was with him.
He imagined the look on Tank's face when he recognized the area code and let it sink in that she was only half an hour away from him. Oh, yes, Mitch thought, his wife was going to love hearing the update on Nia's love at first sight story.
. .oOo.