Chapter Four
Discovery
Hotel Gloria Bar
Panyu, Verusa
February 13, 2028
2100 hours
"Fuck."
Avery slammed his briefcase down, somehow landing right side up. His hatred for Corrigan went well beyond their moral foibles. "Fucking can't make a comfortable plane for shit," he muttered, settling himself into the more comfortable booth bench. The leather was supple, and it was a lot better than a shitty Verusan Airlines seat.
"Anyway," Diego started, "we have business to talk, yes?" Avery nodded. The jet lag was already catching him. "Yeah. I'm tired, but I think I can manage," he replied. "Okay," Diego said, "you were able to slip the V2 info through carefully, I hope."
Avery could just shrug. "Uh, I think I sneaked it past them without too much Green Dawn involvement. It's pretty easy to convince people back there to fly an Aurora up and see what the ground looks like, and a nuclear blast has a pretty dramatic effect." Diego grinned. "Good, good, it looks like we taught you well. Your tradecraft is impressive. Remember, just because Rutherford's gone doesn't mean you'll be without moles."
He knew Diego was talking like this because of his tiredness, but it didn't make Avery feel any less like a preschooler. "Look," he said, cutting off Diego's next thought, "we've still got a big fuckin' problem here. How many more V2s are floating around? There could be as many as twenty-two, and the Verusans might have them all. We don't know who's funneling these things, though I guess we know where they're coming from."
As if on cue, Avery's phone began ringing. "It's Beckett," he said. At the mention, Diego's eyes lit up. "Greet him for me," Diego said. Avery nodded as he took the call. "Norton," he responded, playing up his old identity. Beckett replied, calm as ever. "Danielson," he said, "good to see you're responding to phone calls. Anyway, I had some new info to throw at you. I've sent it over encrypted email. You should have it by now. Pretty big lead we got this time. Anyway, hope you have a good trip there in Verusa. Maybe it'll suck a little less this time, eh?" Avery stopped him. "Well, actually, uh, Delta Lima sends his regards. Wanted to make sure I got that little part in." Beckett almost audibly smiled. "Good to hear he's alright. Tell him he's done good."
Formalities were exchanged and Avery replaced the phone on his belt. He turned to his briefcase, pulling out the Defensebook in his briefcase. "PJ says I have some new info," he said. "Do you mind?" Diego shook his head, and Avery knew he wouldn't. But they were professionals. As Admiral Andersen once told him, professionals are as professionals do. I'm not really sure if that has anything to do with this situation, but it came to mind anyway, Avery thought to himself.
Upon reading the email, Avery realized that Beckett wasn't kidding when he said it was a good lead. "Damn," he muttered. Diego leaned closer. "What did you find?"
Avery cleared his throat. "Helluva lead," he said. "We've got our man…on fingerprints. Fuck, the FIO coulda done this. Not the brightest guy on the block here. Guy must be young if they could pin him so easily." Diego shrugged. "Not much good if you don't have him in cuffs," he said. Avery nodded. "True, but I think that'll come soon enough."
A Kelling gas station just off OF-41
4 miles from Bellingham, Nassau
February 13, 2028
2307 hours
"Sir, I'm going to need some kind of ID," the clerk said lazily. He hated working the night shift at this shitty gas station in the middle of nowhere. There were crazy bastards who came in here at all hours of the night, not looking old enough to buy alcohol, but trying anyway. This man seemed a little too nervous about his purchase. "Sir," the clerk repeated, before being cut off. "Fuck you, here's my goddamned ID!"
The man pulled a gun and looked intent on using it. "Al-alright, fine, take your fuckin' vodka, man! I don't wanna get killed for this shitty job," the clerk screamed. The fact that the glass was probably bulletproofed against this madman's gun didn't mean much to him in the moment. He just wanted this latest episode of crazy shit to end.
Before he could even get his bearings after ducking, the man was gone. Alex Parsons did his best to get a good look at the car at the pump island and dialed 911.
OF-41, mile marker 96
10 miles from Bellingham, Nassau
February 19, 2028
2318 hours
Nassau State Trooper Corporal Mike Anderson was sitting in his Danver Interceptor police cruiser, waiting for one of the many late-night speeders out on Highway 41. His coffee was still warm, and quite drinkable. But tonight, his coffee routine was interrupted from a crackle on the radio. "All units on Highway 41, this is dispatch. We have reports of a possible two-eleven from Bellingham County Police, break. Suspect was reported fleeing the scene in what was described as a blue Gnade sedan. We suspect a Gee Zero Zero, repeat, Golf Zero Zero, break. Suspect matches description of a suspect wanted by the Oh Bee Aye. All units north of mile marker 88 are requested to be on the lookout for the subject vehicle. Vehicle last reported on a northbound bearing. Subject may have turned around and headed southbound, however, so at this time, dispatch requests that all units within twenty miles north and south of Bellingham on Highway 41 be on the lookout. Over."
Just as the dispatcher finished the APB, Anderson scanned the well-lit road. About a hundred yards behind him, he saw a dark shape under the road lights, moving at something way faster than 70 mph. He hit the gas and saw the readout on his radar: 115 mph.
"Dispatch, this Five-Charlie-Seven, I've got a speeding vehicle at mile marker ninety-six, vehicle possibly matches description of subject vehicle in the APB. Subject is really bookin' it, could use some backup here."
Within the hour, six Nassau State Police cruisers were pursuing the Gnade as it tore through the Nassau countryside. Corporal Anderson had never coordinated a chase before, and now he was having to lead a big one too.
"Five-Charlie-Seven to all units. Let's try to box him in. We've got the size advantage on him, over." The other units moved to try to box the car in, but the driver wasn't having any of it. As Three-Adam-Six moved forward to take the head, a window rolled down, and the night sky flashed with gunfire. Three-Adam-Six moved back just before the occupant could get a good aim. "Three-Adam-Six, shots fired, I repeat, shots fired! We have at least one armed occupant in the vehicle!"
The six cruisers were big, taking up so much space on the four-lane highway. Before long, they had a Corrigan Explorer overhead, tracking with the chase.
"Rotor One to Central, I'm with the target vehicle, assisting units on the ground. Acknowledge, over."
Inside, NSP was also transporting two expert snipers with the state's SWAT team. Accompanying them were four of the state's best in the field of special weapons and tactics. NSSWAT had its finest tracking the gas station stickup artists now, but they were holding back with the gunfire now that officers were just tailing them.
The chase became nearly dreary on the open roads. The Interceptors, big as they were, could still match the Gnade step for step on wide highways like this, their huge V8s continuing to lay power down on the surface with ease. Something has to break the tension, Corporal Anderson thought to himself.
Almost before he could finish this thought, he heard a bullet whiz over his cruiser, but he never saw the flash. Before any of the troopers could process what was going on, two more bullets whizzed over head, and troopers in the lead could hear the fsssshhhhh of air leaking out of the tires of the vehicle they were chasing.
Within seconds, it was all over. The troopers at the site took inventory of the situation, including the IDs of the occupants. "Looks like we got a Jonas Fleischer, and I'm getting a hit on him being wanted by the OBI," Corporal Anderson noted from behind his cruiser's computer. He called the local OBI field office to check the wanted status of his Jonas Fleischer.
Chelsea Restaurant
Panyu, Verusa
February 14, 2028
1300 hours
Avery slumped over in the seat. "I wish I was back home," he groaned to Diego. "I miss Taylor."
Diego clucked with disapproval. "You can't be like that, Doctor Danielson. This is not the time. We've got work to do. We need to figure out what's going on here. That's why we're sitting here, looking so suspicious, with our computers."
Diego looked as if he intended to go on, but Avery's cell phone rang. It was Beckett. Again. "Norton," Avery said glumly, as he took the call. "Danielson, you sound like hell," Beckett replied. Avery noted that Beckett sounded pretty tired. "I could say the same," he said, chuckling as he did.
Beckett wasn't interested in small talk, though. He never was. "Redmill State Troopers picked up our little friend last night, Danielson," he said. Avery shot straight up in the booth. "Where?" Beckett shrugged inaudibly. "Dunno. They're going to transfer him to OBI, and we're working with the Office to secure some personal time with him. That'll take a few days, though. While you're playing games with Green Dawn's best agent, maybe you could consider coming back and trying to coax some HUMINT out of this guy? I hear you're good at that." Avery sighed. "I guess I'll try to arrange it. I'm still working on putting together some more pieces, though. But I'll think about it."
Hanging up, Avery was able to smile weakly. At least we're one step closer, he thought to himself, relishing the thought. Diego, however, was buried in his work now. He must be on the trail, Avery thought, but before he could engross himself in his own part of the work, Diego's face lit up. "I've got it here!"
"What? What is it?"
Diego clapped softly. He then turned the laptop around so that Avery could see the screen. Avery began reading softly. "Location One-One-Eight? What the hell's that mean, man? It could me—"
Diego's smile widened as he saw the dawning expression on Avery's face. "Oh my God," Avery said. "Does that mean…"
"Yes," Diego responded, nodding slowly. "There's a lot more to our friend here than we think. Remember what San Salvacion did back in twenty-oh-nine, when they 'shockingly' quit ISAF? I think this is what they were going for, but I don't believe they knew about the warehouse Bruun had left behind in his haste."
Avery tilted his head. "So…if they didn't know about the warehouse…"
"Someone else did. I don't know who, but someone else did," Diego said, picking up where Avery left off. "I wouldn't be surprised if either this Fleischer fellow—" Avery cut him off. "How did you know about Fleischer?" Diego smiled. "Ways and means, Doctor Danielson. Ways and means. Anyway, I would not be surprised if this Fleischer fellow knows the man with the keys. We need to find the gatekeeper to get in, because I can assure you that this warehouse, or warehouses, will be under lock and key."
Avery was slumped, fumbling around with the keys to the rental car, contemplating the options. Finally, he shot straight up. "Well, what about this. I go back home, I talk to this Fleischer fuckface, and we bust open his operation. I reckon one of two things happens. If he's the gatekeeper, problem solved. If not, we'll find the intelligence that gets us to the gatekeeper. Hopefully, he, she, it, whatever the hell, doesn't find out. We do that, and we should be squared away, no?" Diego didn't look convinced. "Who does the raid? If it's the military, you're going to have an outcry. If it's the police, they'll get killed."
Avery smiled slyly. "You're forgetting one thing," he said. "We've got the HRT."
244 Gant Drive
Margate, Nassau
February 16, 2028
0900 hours
It was a long flight, but the happiness on Taylor's face for getting home unexpectedly early was worth it. Even if Corrigan's seats still suck ass.
The wonderful evening—to make up for Valentine's, of course—was made less fantastic when Taylor made a mumbled announcement into a pillow.
"I'm being stationed in Vedia."
Avery was dumbstruck. "I thought you'd been reassigned to Department of State on a permanent basis," he said, downcast. Taylor could only look away. "I got reassigned to Foreign Service reserves recently. They said it was a precautionary measure because they were short on non-volunteers. After they upgraded the hardship level for Indus, they assigned me there, because I was listed as hardship-willing."
It wasn't exactly the news Avery wanted to hear. While he felt a duty to his country, and wanted his partner to feel the same way, he still felt uneasy. Avery knew that Taylor would have to go alone, and now he was working at the Agency and taking care of a five-year-old…this wasn't a good situation.
"I hope you know of some arrangements we can make for Sierra," he finally said. Taylor nodded, not turning her head to face Avery again. "Charlie and Nina will take them," she said, almost wistfully. "Did he come back from Verusa yet?" Avery asked. Taylor nodded again.
Avery still felt a sense of anger welling up, because he was already putting together what was happening. I don't even care if she'd be the right one for the job, I don't want her getting fucking killed in all of this. If she even gets hurt, Donilon's going down with her, he thought to himself.
Normally, Avery wasn't this agitated into defending his friends and family. But the way Taylor was acting about it, what Donilon said in the briefing before he went to meet Diego…
He knew what he was doing the whole time, the fuck. I knew I shouldn't have trusted him. I knew I should have pushed him further from intervention, told him to let the Agency handle it. Jesus Christ, how could I have missed that? This seems so obvious now.
The more obvious it became, the angrier he got. Taylor turned over, gave Avery a short kiss, and mumbled something about needing to get up early before falling asleep.
Alone in his thoughts, Avery could feel his blood pressure rising. This is not good for going to sleep, he thought, thinking he might get something to calm him down. I've probably got some diazepam in the cabinet. Ever since his spate of panic attacks a few years ago, he had kept a current bottle in the bathroom. Never know when you'd need the things, and the last thing I need right now is an irregularity check from Fort Eustis. In fact, the nanobots inside of him were probably already in the yellow range because of irregular pulse and blood pressure.
After fumbling around in the cabinet, Avery managed to swallow a dose of the depressant dry. It was not an experience he felt like repeating in the future. Next time, get some water.
Staggering back into the bedroom, Avery had to pass by Taylor's side of the bed. In the moonlight, he could easily see her face. The look was tortured, as if torn between two incredibly powerful influences on her life. At least she's not taking this lightly, he thought, as he stumbled to his side of the bed and nearly fell into it.
Jesus Christ, what a night, he thought, before finally falling asleep.
OBI Headquarters
Oured, Nassau
February 17, 2028
1100 hours
"I can't believe you're wanting to put me up to this," DCI Beckett said, as he walked with Avery to the Director's Office. "We're going to try to send the OBI, and then their HRT after what might be a small private army? This is going to be a fucking suicide mission for these guys."
Avery shook his head. "These guys train with Deltas. What are you so worried about? It's not like you. Fuck's sake Patrick, you got shot with a laser. You don't get to be scared about things like this."
Beckett could only shrug and nod. Danielson has a point there, he thought. But still, he preferred the idea of Deltas themselves taking care of the problem. Even so, he had to appreciate Danielson's nearly shocking level of tact in the face of, as far as anyone knew, the love of his life being deployed to a diplomatic mission in the heart of a war zone. So many decisions. It must be a struggle for such a young kid to be trying to handle this, he thought, though Beckett immediately realized that sounded silly.
Avery and Beckett turned to the Director's office. OBI Director Raymond Sidney was a tall, burly man, who had spent decades in law enforcement before his time in the OBI, much less as its director. A gregarious Atlanta native, he was always happy to talk anyone's ear off about the sights of his hometown of Palmetto.
"What can ah do for y'all?" Sidney asked, motioning for Avery and Beckett to seat themselves. Beckett turned to Avery and gave him a short nod, as if to say, this one's yours, kiddo. Avery took the initiative. "Of course, we wanted to talk shop about talking to our mutual friend Jonas Fleischer, but that's not what we're here for." Sidney looked surprised. "Okay," he said, "go on." Avery nodded and continued, "right. We were actually interested in involving the Hostage Rescue Team for a probable operation."
Sidney leaned back slowly in his chair. According to what everyone had told him, Avery took this to mean he was in thought. He had also been told to keep pushing if this happened. "We know Fleischer's running his schtick out of some office here in the Federation, but we don't know exactly where. If we figure out where it is, we'd like the HRT to clean it up. It would help us out a lot in pinning down some certain…"
Avery glanced over. Beckett was shaking his head. Okay, Avery thought to himself, don't bring up the nuke intel. Christ, I'm still barely above water after thirteen years on this job. He picked back up. "Certain bits of intelligence, Director Sidney. You know how it is." Sidney smiled and nodded. More understanding than disagreeable, it looked. Avery took this as a good sign. "We of course would let your people take full credit, and would be happy to supply whatever needed to maintain that cover story. We just need one of your 412s, a team of HRT guys, and some people willing to take big risks."
Sidney chuckled at the last part. "Son," he said, "everyone in the HRT is willing tuh take big risks." Avery sighed and laughed in relief. "So we have a deal?" Sidney nodded. They shook hands to emphasize the finality of it. As they broke the handshake, Sidney finally remembered to respond. "Ah, yep. Sure thing, kid. Beckett, could I see you in private for a bit?" Beckett motioned for Avery to leave. "Go ahead and take the car back, Avery," he said. Beckett tossed Avery the keys. Avery was hoping to have a chance to visit Nassau State Police headquarters, anyway. He wanted to meet this crazy bastard who'd caught Fleischer.
Osean Department of State
Oured, Nassau
February 17, 2028
1300 hours
Taylor pulled into her assigned parking space, albeit slowly. She didn't really want to be here. This isn't my job, she thought. It's not…my war.
But just as she felt it wasn't her war, it wasn't her place to argue, either. Reservists didn't get a lot of leeway, whether it was in the military or in the diplomatic corps. Avery had taught her a couple of things about data mining in Osean databases after he'd done a tour with his company in Verusa…whatever company it is that he worked for. He always said it was a policy thinktank.
Now, it was time to put that to the test. Once she was on station at the embassy in Amirabad, Taylor resolved that her first order of business would be establishing connections to all kinds of databases she was cleared on now. Maybe then she could get to the heart of all of this. In the meantime, the nagging feeling that she didn't belong on this assignment was tugging at the back of her mind.
CIA Headquarters
Fort Eustis, Nassau
February 17, 2028
1340 hours
Just minutes later, Avery was back at headquarters, wondering what was going through Taylor's mind.
She must be torn up about this. I would be too, even though my commitment to the Federation is strong. I wish I had a clue as to why she was being called up.
He didn't have much time to think about it. Gabe popped into his office. "Hey, Doctor Danielson, sir," he said, excitedly. "I heard about your wife being deployed. You need anything?" Avery shook his head. "No, Gabe. Just…don't bring that up again until she comes back, please," he responded.
Gabe got the message. If there's anything he's good at, it's getting the picture, Avery thought to himself. That's part of the reason I picked him out of the pool.
"Uh, Gabe?" Avery called. "Yes sir?"
"Get me an Aurelian Vanilla tea. Hot."
"Sure thing, Doctor Danielson, sir."
Losa thought that because Avery was former Air Defense Force, he had to add "sir" to the end of everything. He thought it was sort of endearing for Gabe to do, but he'd have to get over it soon if he was going to work here after college. Not everyone enjoys being treated like a drill sergeant.
Avery had already decided that today he would be checking up on Aurora recon overflights of Indus and Vedia. Satellites were nice, but they were too easily fooled. Osea's massive defense complex afforded the CIA easy access to VISINT and ELINT from various key countries at any given time. Thanks to absolutely psychotic behavior by the two nations, the International United Nations was already sending an international flotilla to force the navies apart, and steps were being taken to have international control of the countries' nuclear arsenals.
But Avery suspected the latter was not a wise course of action. To confirm these suspicions, however, he would need access to ongoing aerial surveillance, which now was strewn across his desk. There were pictures of all kinds of bases and installations, and now Avery would have to take to the task of sorting all the images out into differing classes.
Before he could start, his phone started ringing. It was Taylor. "Hi Avery. I just wanted to say…thanks for what you told me after coming back from Verusa a couple of years ago. I'm about to make good use of it. I just wanted you to know that before I got on the plane."
All Avery could stammer out before she hung up was "Uh…I…er…you're welcome?"
Jesus Christ, now I sound like goddamned idiot, he thought to himself, as he put the phone back down on the desk.
Walking over to the pinboard, Avery pinned up his signs and string lines. Dividing the board into thirds—naval bases, missile bases, and airbases. Each one had their role in nuclear warfare, but the middle section—missile bases—is what counted. It was the only group where Vedia had any platform that could launch something the size of V2.
"This is gonna be a long day," Avery muttered, as he started picking up photos from the table.
Osean Embassy
Amirabad, Vedia
February 18, 2028
0900 hours
"Welcome, Officer Grimm."
Foreign Service Officer Hans Grimm stepped into his temporary office. This station was expected to only be a couple of months before he would be reassigned back to his post at the State Department. But Vedia was really hot and humid, and it didn't take long for Hans to miss his old post under the cool windstreams of the Oured Bay.
The room's air conditioning was adequate, however, and Grimm quickly got to work making phone calls.
In another office, Taylor Danielson was getting used to her own accommodations. Unlike Grimm, she had ulterior motives. Starting up the computer at her desk, Taylor put in her credentials and immediately began accessing a variety of databases she was cleared for.
BTSTME, CIAFD, DOSPID, all these insane acronyms. Taylor wracked her brain to try to think up other fields to draw from. Troop movements? Covered. CIA factfinder updates? Covered. Political information? Covered.
Now to see if she could find anything going on near Vedia…
CIA Headquarters
Fort Eustis, Nassau
February 18, 2028
0020 hours
"Fuck."
Avery had still succeeded in identifying all twelve of Vedia's missile bases and had sent the requisite images down for double-checking. Hopefully, the peacekeeping operation would move too slowly to beat the CIA to them. Anything less could be disastrous.
Grabbing some more tea from the commissary down the hall, Avery started poring over measurement charts and other data from all known Vedian missile bases. Only one of them matched the qualifications for a V2 launch, he noted. Seems like there should be more of these if they were stockpiling for a campaign, he thought, looking over the specification sheets again.
No…still just one. There must be other bases.
A quick flip through the factfinder database confirmed that there were only twelve known Vedian missile bases, and Location 27B was the only one that could accommodate something as big as a V2. So there must be more, Avery thought.
Just then, his phone started ringing.
Taylor.
Scattering a number of pens, markers, and photos across the desk, Avery grabbed the phone and accepted the call. "Uh, hullo," he said.
"Avery. Thank God. I didn't know if I'd be able to reach you at this hour." At least she's adjusting to the time change pretty well. "I did some digging. I picked up a memo for what's called a…what's it again? Oh, here, it's a flash…flash access. Except the flash part is in all caps."
Avery got nervous. "Whoa, whoa, okay, hold on now. What's that one say?"
Taylor sounded even more nervous. "I've already got a compressed file I can send you. It's kinda big, one-point-eight gigs. But I figure you have fast enough internet for it."
Avery nodded. "Yeah, I can get that pretty quickly. Send it. But don't send it to my normal address. Send it to, ah, shit…oh, ad1988 at marcorp dot net, okay? Marcorp dot net. Got it?" Taylor responded quietly. "Mm-hm. Got it." Avery wasn't finished. "Don't even put a subject line in it. The only way to trigger a search on that email is through the subject line."
Within seconds, he could hear his own computer alerting him to the presence of the email. "Just got it," he confirmed. Lemme take a look at this little FLASH-Access memo.
The memo looked pretty simple.
Operational information
Send date: 16-02-2028
Execution date: 24-02-2028
Code name: Heartbreak One
Operation Heartbreak One details:
Osean Air Defense Force 178th Tactical Fighter Squadron "Night Train" to assist with top cover in aiding 5th Carrier Group "Louis Murphy" to execute Operation Sand Island. Goal of Operation Sand Island—complete subjugation of Vedian military. Sent via FLASH-Access for maximized security.
Precautions: Operation may spark major international conflict/incident.
Other requests: Please confirm use of fifth-generation aircraft to ensure maximized operational success.
Avery leaned back in his chair.
"Sheeeeeit," he muttered. Then it struck him. Donilon's choices hadn't been accidental. He knew what he was doing.
Before he could begin seething, Losa knocked quietly and entered the office. "Doctor Danielson, sir, Fleischer's below in the interrogation room."
Avery finally had something less painful to do. "Okay honey, don't forget to call back. Thinking about you. Gotta go. Bye." He kissed the phone, feeling ridiculous, but you never knew who knew who and who was involved in what in this place.
"Thanks, Gabe," he said, grabbing his coat as he walked to the office door.
Black Site 1-Alpha
Somewhere near Fort Eustis, Nassau
February 18, 2028
0115 hours
David Bartholomew, an assets expert and Special Activities veteran, handed Avery the manila folder of all relevant information on this Mr. Jonas Fleischer. It included a simple biodata sheet and a ton of photographs of locations where Fleischer was seen. Avery flicked through them quickly, noting that one of them was Verusan Naval Dock 375. Connections were already forming.
"Okay, Fleischer, we know who you are, and what you do. Now fill in the rest for us. Where did you get the explosives to cut through the Mount Schirm rockslide? That place was sealed up pretty good."
"How do you know I did that? You can't prove it."
"Like hell. We've got your fingerprints on the scene. It was sealed when you were nine years old, dipshit."
"Okay, so what if I did?"
"How'd you get in?"
"What's it to you? It doesn't matter to you. All you're doing is trying to soften me. You won't. I'm a hard Belkan man, built by the sands of time to crush üntermensch like you."
Just as I suspected. He's a racist bastard—but that means he's also cocky, Avery thought to himself.
"Okay, I see how this is going to be. You're going to stonewall me. Alright."
"I can see the rage in your eyes, Osean pig. You want to kill me. Why not? You've already got your Osean shit gun on you. Just shoot me. Make me a martyr."
Avery laughed. "No. I won't do that…yet. But how were you moving these missiles to the Verusans?"
"I don't think you understand, Mister Osea. I'm not going to talk to you about this. I'll tell you what I will talk about. You Oseans, you always act like you're so much more right than Belkans. But what do Belkans do that is wrong? They kill. Now what do you threaten to do? Kill me. How are you better than your enemy?"
Avery just chuckled. "Fleischer, just in this folder I have enough to ship you off to Port Edwards and have you tried for a laundry list of war crimes. I don't need to know anything you have to offer, I'm just trying to decide if I want to shoot you or not. Because you know what? Your actions caused my President to act irrationally, and now my wife is stationed in the middle of a goddamned war zone on account of you. Does that thought make you hard, Fleischer? Is that what gets you off? I tell you what…"
Avery produced a quarter zollar coin from his pocket. "Call it in the air. Get the call and I send you with these nice fellows from the OBI. You lose, and I kill you."
Avery flipped the coin.
901 Marigold Way
Oceanview, Chevalle
August 19, 2077
"To be honest, Takara," Avery said, pointing decisively at her chest. "I knew what that coin was going to do as soon as I made the deal. It was going to land on whatever he called."
Avery chuckled at the memory. "Sure enough, that fucker called tails, and it landed tails."
February 18, 2028
"Special Agent Barker," Avery called, motioning the OBI agent into the room. "Take this fuckin' bastard away. I don't want to see his face ever again."
In less than an hour, Avery was back to his office. Back to staring at that memo. Back to wondering what would become of Taylor.
He scanned over a handful of other related memos. Nothing new really popped out at him, other than some battle plans for Operation Sand Island. Taylor apparently couldn't scrounge up any for Operation Heartbreak One. That just made the whole thing more disconcerting.
But wait, Avery thought. Who would have to sign off on Heartbreak One?
It wasn't a reality he wanted to face, but it looked more and more like he was about to be caught up in another intra-agency scandal. Not what he was expecting when he saw Taylor in that silky nightrobe just a few nights before.
The anger was welling up again, but this time, Gabe wasn't there to keep it from brimming over. Avery stormed over to his computer, printed off the Sand Island and Heartbreak One memos, and tore them out of the printer. From there, it was off to Beckett's office. He'd still be there, as usual.
In just minutes, Avery arrived. Slamming the papers on the table, Avery lost control.
"Director Beckett, what the fuck is this?"
Beckett turned around quickly at the sound of Avery's tone. "Danielson? What are you doing here so la—" Avery cut him off. "Cut the crap, Beckett. What the fuck is this on these papers? I'm cleared on this shit, but you never briefed me on it. This was two days ago, Beckett. I'm not fucking happy about this."
Beckett realized that he had to do something to mollify Avery, but it wasn't about to happen. Avery gave Beckett a stare that could have frozen lava. The look Beckett had in response told Avery everything he needed to know. He collected the memos and stormed back to his office in a angry haze. He picked up the phone and set an appointment with the President for the next morning. He was going to confront Donilon on this too.
Brighthill Manor
Oured, Nassau
February 18, 2028
0900 hours
Entering the Presidential Suite, Donilon could tell by the look on Avery's face that something was wrong. "Doctor Danielson, what can I—" Avery cut him off.
"What the fuck did you think you were doing, Donilon? Did you think I'd just let this slip? No harm, no foul? Except harm, Donilon. And foul! You fucking scumbag. I told you to butt the fuck out of this. Run a peace deal, maybe, and that was already risking a perfectly manageable status quo."
Now it was Donilon's turn. "Nukes are not a status quo, Danielson! Are you out of your fucking mind?"
"You don't fucking get it, do you? Putting my wife in the middle of your egotistical, bleeding-heart bullshit, and probably getting her killed? You disgust me, Donilon. You've lost sight of what you're here to do. You're here to lead, not propagandize like a Yuke prick. You've been discovered, Donilon."
With that, Avery stormed out of the manor, knowing that he had a ticking clock to make things right. This wasn't an operation where he could afford a miss.