Thanks to those who have reviewed, always appreciated. Now on for a look at "Field Harry..."
Chapter 4
The noise of the helicopter was in a strange way comforting to him. He chose to use the time to check his equipment, and to that end checked the magazine and safety of his 9mm Glock, and the small duffel bag containing a silencer, sniper rifle, rope, wire cutters and many other small tools that he thought might come in handy along with a small toiletry kit pre-paid cell phone and a change of dark clothing. Satisfied that his equipment was ready, he closed his eyes in the hopes that he might be able to doze for the ride out to meet his contact. But instead of rest, his mind turned to an inevitable subject: Ruth.
He swallowed down the lump that formed in his throat at the thought of her. If he knew Ruth, she was in the depths of despair over her own guilt of speaking so plainly just minutes before he "died." Despite the fact that she had never loved him, he was confident that she would mourn his loss at least a little – at least no less than their other colleagues. And if he was being honest with himself, he would admit that he hoped she mourned him a little more than most.
"I don't love you."
He could hear her voice saying it over and over in his mind; God how that had hurt. His heart wanted to believe that she had lied to him, but his mind, his logic, told him otherwise. Ruth would not have said it if she hadn't meant it; she would not have been that cruel, knowing how deeply it would hurt him. He felt tears begin to sting his eyes and he wiped at them quickly. He could not afford to be emotional; there would be time later to grieve over a lost love that he apparently never had. Right now, he had a job to do and he had to focus on it.
It was a terrible job; a job that would probably cost him his very soul. But if it would save innocent lives and the souls of his team, then it was worth it; hell, he was dead to everyone now anyway. And then his heart jumped: Scarlet. What would happen to Scarlet? Surely Ruth wouldn't let her be taken to animal services? Someone on the team would certainly be willing to take her, he hoped. And then he shook his head: his life was more or less over and he was worried about his sweet little Jack Russell… His mind fleetingly wondered if Ruth would have found that fact endearing.
Harry swallowed another lump down. He had to stop thinking about her; about them. While there was a chance that he might survive what he was about to do, he couldn't afford to think about it. Still, he wished he could talk to her just once more. That thought almost made him laugh: what would he say to her that he had not already said? She didn't love him; it was not something words could fix.
His heart was heavy when the RAF Linx landed on the tarmac of the USS Ronald Reagan, which had anchored out in international waters off the coast of Scotland. He marveled at how brilliant the military was, both British and American, that they could navigate a ship, fly and land a helicopter in the middle of the night on a sea that was a black as anything he had ever seen; and with absolutely no navigational lights. Harry thanked the lieutenant who had piloted, grabbed his duffel bag, jumped out, and the Linx promptly took off again.
A seaman greeted him. "Mr. Pearce, sir, Seaman First Class Randy Jackson, sir, please follow me."
Harry nodded and followed the officer below decks. Every corridor they traveled down was deserted, much to Harry's relief, and then finally they came to a hatch, and the seaman stopped, opening it for Harry.
"Please remain here, sir, your contact will see in a few minutes."
Harry nodded, stepped in, and watched as the hatch was closed by the seamen from the corridor side. Harry guessed that the man was now standing guard on the other side of it. He could hardly blame the Americans; hell, he was pretty sure that Her Majesty's Royal Navy would never have allowed a spy – even an allied one – on board one of their aircraft carriers, especially carrying weapons. But God bless the cousins for their occasional lapse in judgment, for without them, his job would be next to impossible.
He didn't wait long when there was a knock on the hatch and the lock turned. A man about Harry's age entered. He was wearing a suit and tie and had the look of long-time spook written all over him. He extended his hand.
"Harry, good to see you, although I'm sorry for the circumstances."
"And you, Jack," Harry said shaking the man's hand. "It's been years. I take it you like the desk job in Washington?"
Jack shrugged. "It was time, Harry. I'm too old for fieldwork now." He eyed Harry's gear. "How long has it been for you?"
"Been working a desk for about the last decade, Jack."
The two men sat down at the table.
"This is a bad business, Harry."
"Yes it is." Harry watched as Jack poured two glasses of scotch, handing one to Harry, who smiled. "I thought yours was a dry navy, Jack."
Jack laughed. "It is, officially, but I don't know of many that don't have some contraband on them. And it's not my navy, Harry," the man smiled. "I'm CIA now, just like always."
Harry laughed then and downed the rest of his scotch. "I need to know that you have handled things on your end of Oil Rigger, Jack."
"If you mean are the American assets in the Middle East ready, yes they are." He downed the rest of his scotch then. "I hope it doesn't come to that, Harry."
Harry nodded and took a breath. "And the rest of the allies?"
"Ready, but as I said…"
"Yes, I quite agree. Do we have any idea who gave up the list?"
"Not yet."
"It was probably the French."
"You Brits never give up a grudge, do you?"
"Not really, no, so any ideas you have of donning a blue uniform and climbing on horseback and shouting through the streets, 'the British are coming,' don't."
"Same old droll Harry Pearce," Jack laughed. "Look, I doubt it was the French, there's nothing for them to gain in leaking to the Arabs that several of the smaller countries had entered into an oil deal with the five of us. It could have been the Germans, but honestly, I don't know."
"Twenty years of planning and work to get to this point only to have it blow up in our faces, Jack."
"It was probably madness then, Harry, but we were young. Your problem is we're too old now to blame it on youth."
"At least we were thinking about what was probably going to happen down the road with our oil resources." Harry looked down, then back up at Jack. "More than I can say for many of our colleagues."
Jack looked at Harry's left hand. "Still haven't let any other girl catch you since Jane, Harry? Smart man."
Harry's face turned sad but he let it go and instead spotted Jack's golden band. "I take it Marjorie still leads you round by the nose then, eh?"
"Wouldn't have it any other way."
Jack pulled out two pieces of blank paper and two pens. He set one down in front of himself and handed a set to Harry.
"You ready?"
"Yes."
"Okay, twenty names for each of us, go…"
And the two men started writing names down on their respective sheets. When they were finished they traded papers.
Harry folded the paper and put it into the pocket of his black pants, and then he stood, Jack following suit. Harry extended his hand.
"Jack, take care of yourself, you're one of the better, more trustworthy of the cousins…"
"And you, Harry. Is there anything you need? From the looks of you, you're tasked with handling every last detail of this… I'm surprised the crown is letting you handle this so personally, a man of your standing in the services."
"I insisted, Jack." Harry looked at his hands. "I couldn't bring myself to ask my team to clean up my mess." He looked back up at Jack, "And I do believe I have all that I need now, thanks."
Jack eyed the duffel. "Bet I don't want to know what's in there."
Harry smiled. "Bet you don't."
Jack headed for the door. "The seaman outside will escort you to one of our Hueys that'll drop you back on land." Jack stopped and looked Harry in the eye. "Be careful, Harry. This is a risky business."
"Yes it is. But the alternative is unthinkable; we can neither allow biological warfare to take place in our cities anymore than we can afford to extract our Middle Eastern assets."
Jack nodded and without another word, he was gone.
TBC