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Chapter 12
Ranger called a meeting of the Summit Team. Ram had walked in not sure where to sit. This was the Core Team, the nucleus of Rangeman, and although Tank and Les were not there, he could still feel the raw power in the room.
He had slowed his steps as he arrived and looked around. Ranger was sitting behind his desk, and Bobby was sitting on one side of the leather couch. The chair in front of Ranger was vacant and so was the other end of the couch.
Bobby noticed that Ram was standing by the door prepared to stay there as he looked around the room. He patted the seat beside him and spoke.
"Park your ass here, Ram. Les usually sits there but I already swept off his cooties."
Ranger looked at Ram and nodded and he walked over to sit in the offered seat. He did not slouch but sat almost at attention as he waited.
Ranger looked at the men.
"Les is in New York right now. He has a line on something and hopefully he can give us some more details before we move this there."
He looked down at his notes.
"I checked with Hector and he has his time-line for wrapping up Denver and making his way to New York. He is prepared to set up his electronic command post but it will have to be stationed back at Rangeman. He will have video access by the cameras we are planning on installing plus up-to-date information on any cancellations, or revisions as they come in. Unfortunately not being on site we need to keep him appraised of anything that feels off and hopefully he can help us to contain anything before it blows up in our faces."
He took a breath.
"Stephanie is clearing her schedule and is preparing to attend. She will arrive on the 13th and we have already secured a suite in her name, paid for by Rangeman. We have booked Digger for the entire event and he is co-ordinating getting her to her appointments and our personnel to wherever we need to be. We will also have a couple of vehicles on stand-by but vehicles are tight at this branch so I would like to keep their use to a minimum."
He looked at the men.
"Ram, have you found anything we need to be aware of with respect to the presenters?"
Ram shook his head.
"I checked our usual sources and even a few not so usual. The rumors seem to have totally dried up and I suspect that either whatever someone was talking about has not come to fruition, or in a worse-case scenario, they are set up and waiting for the Summit. I am hoping for the first but am not ruling out the second."
There was silence and Ram spoke again.
"Unfortunately there have been a number of cancellations from both presenters and attendees. The reasons are the usual; illness, family or scheduling changes. The committee is scrambling a bit making the necessary media corrections and they are holding off printing off the registration packages until the last minute. A number of the presenters had a significant number of people who had signed up wanting to attend their discussions and they are busy advising the attendees of the changes and the need to reschedule."
He looked at Ranger as if wanting permission to continue.
"Unfortunately I have noticed a disturbing trend that a number of attendees and presenters who are cancelling have ties to the Mexican and southern hemisphere region. I have attempted to clarify why on behalf of the Summit Committee but so far they are using the standard lines of illness, changing schedules or family obligations. There are too many of them to be just random."
Ranger looked at Bobby, and he straightened unconsciously.
"How are the hotels coping with the sudden influx of influential guests?"
Bobby looked down at his notes.
"We have the list of the hotels where most of the guests are staying and have co-ordinated with the hotel security with respect to increased vigilance while the ladies are at the Summit. The three hotels that have most of the guests have handled high security details in the past and their personnel are well trained in protection measures.
Unfortunately we are not in possession of where all the presenters are staying and I suspect that they are staying with friends or family which, if there is a security breach will make it difficult to keep them out of harm's way.
As it turns out, Bomber is staying at a hotel that was not on the list and at this time I am not sure if that is good or bad. She would have been under their increased protection, but at the same time we use that hotel ourselves for clients and they know that we are always checking on their security."
He paused.
"At least most of the ladies are travelling by car services that are fairly reputable. The Summit package of information had recommended that they travel that way due to a lack of parking and the always possibility of potential security threats."
Ranger nodded.
"Les is checking into the staff hired for the event. Most of the wait staff are casual workers but at first glance they have been working at the Convention Centre for some time.
He is also checking on the media events associated with the Summit. A number of stations wanted media accreditation to the Summit but as in past years, it has been closed to them and they are only allowed to set up the final evening for a synopsis of the events. They have already lined up a number of national news leaders who are female and they fought for the right to participate. So far, the Summit Committee has held them off but the Freedom of the Press legislation lawyers will eventually be brought in, I suspect."
Ranger looked down at the paper on the desk, mentally checking off what else needed to be done.
"Prepare to move to New York on the 10th to set up and finalize the details. Remember to pack the Tux's for the two formal meals. Standard Rangeman uniform is the order of the day for the workshops and we are on retainer for the additional workshops on the 16th for any that are being arranged over and above the initial workshops."
He looked at his men.
"I do not need to remind you that with this many well-known and important people attending such an influential function that security is to be maintained. Keep your eyes and ears open and report anything that you think is off, no matter how trivial."
Bobby, followed by Ram stood up and walked out of the room. Ranger had already started to work on the paperwork on his desk and didn't look up as they took their leave. Ram thought that it was passing strange but Bobby didn't seem concerned, clapped him on the shoulder and nodded his head to follow.
He headed to his office and waited for Ram then closed the door behind him.
"Thanks for coming onto the planning team on such short notice after you just returned. I expected you to take your usual two weeks off to decompress but if you are feeling up to it, I will not question your action. I have kept some possible times open for your returning physical, but I just wanted to touch base with you now."
Bobby looked at Ram as they sat down. He had flipped him a bottle of water that he had taken out of his personal fridge and opened one himself as he sat in the other easy chair.
"I hear that you finished your last mission of the contract and you didn't renew. How does it feel to be a free man?"
He smiled as he spoke. All the Core Team were now free of their contracts and only took on what interested them. He had dropped going on any missions and was pursuing further medical training. Les still did the odd one if the conditions were right and Ranger only took on the odd domestic call now. Tank was still on hiatus with the birth of the boys and he too had expressed that he was done. His family was more important than a few more dollars in his bank account.
Ram looked pensive as he rolled the bottle between both hands slowly. He looked up and his brow was furrowed.
"I had the strangest feeling that something was 'off' this mission. When we were being inserted, I sat on the chopper and was not sure if I would get off or refuse and return to base. I knew in my heart that I had done everything I needed to do to bring my mission to a successful conclusion but I had this niggling feeling that I was missing something."
He looked at Bobby and thought about his next remark. Bobby was the resident medic on staff, but he was much more than that to the men. He had been there and understood all the emotions that men had while out in the field.
"I had the weirdest feeling that I was 'done'. I couldn't get the thought out of my mind and to this day I have no idea what happened to make me think that. I used to get a real adrenaline rush from doing my job but this one..."
He stopped and looked at Bobby.
"I'm not afraid to die, but this mission made me reassess what I wanted to do with my life and where I wanted to go with it."
He dropped his eyes and seemed mesmerized by the bottle and its' sloshing contents.
Bobby stood up and walked to Ram, putting his hand on his shoulder and squeezed.
"No man will ever admit to fearing a mission, but there comes a time when it is time to hang'em up, and it could be that your mind and body are telling you it's time, Ram. You have always trusted your instincts up to now, so you might want to listen to them."
Ram nodded. He had a lot to think about. He thought of the contract that he had refused to sign. It was a lot of money to turn down, but he had handed it back without even considering it seriously. He wondered what his life would be like now. Ranger putting him on a detail with the Core Team had him wondering if he was being looked at with an eye to more responsibility and maybe a step up the ladder in leadership. He vowed to do his very best at the Summit, both to look for that one possible detail that might take down the house of cards if they were not vigilant, but at the same time to try to keep Stephanie safe. She was a magnet for trouble and if there was anything happening at the Summit he firmly believed that she would be involved somehow.
He looked at Bobby and nodded.
What time do you want me in the infirmary for my physical?"
Bobby walked back to his desk and sat down, pulling up his schedule for the day.
"How about 1100? That gives us both some time to work and to have time before lunch for your blood tests?"
Ram nodded. He was beginning to exhibit the early signs of hypoglycemia. It was in the family and they had been watching for the tell-tale signs. Time would tell with a regular schedule and careful diet if it would remain stable for years to come.
Bobby made some notes on his working file to keep an eye on Ram. He had suspected that there was a reason behind his early return. He hoped that it was just because Ranger had asked him to step into the vacant spot on the detail.
~~~o0o~~~
Les pondered his next move.
He normally had a member of the Core Team as his back-up, but with none in town, he hesitated to use someone from New York. He shuddered to think what kind of shit he would be in if and/or when Ranger found out. He shrugged. Of course Ranger would find out. He seemed to know everything, especially if someone was trying to hide something.
He prepared with care for the evening. He had a name but it would mean infiltrating in a brotherhood so ugly that he shuddered in spite of himself.
Les was a strong man and had literally seen it all, at least in his opinion.
He was to be at 252 West 43rd Street by midnight. From there he would be taken to the meeting. He suspected that his cover story had been checked and re-checked for validation and he crossed his fingers that the details would pass. He had paid a lot of money to get this far.
Les emptied his pockets of any materials identifying him as someone from Rangeman and he also left his weapons in the building. He felt totally naked with only a knife in his ankle scabbard. He had a sheet of paper with the motto in his back pocket in case he was required to produce it.
Les took a last cleansing breath before vacating the building. He grabbed a cab down the street and had the driver take him to a run-down hotel, then walked to the subway down the street, jumping on it and watching with New York boredom as the stops came and went. He had no idea if he was being observed and tried to maintain the facade of building excitement but apprehension. Some part of him was not feigning the apprehension.
Les exited the subway at his stop then walked the remaining distance, leaning against the wall. He crossed his legs and watched the crowds pass by. Midnight and it was still busy. Having lived in New York, he knew that it never slept and there were as many night owls as early birds.
He had been advised that he should watch for a person wearing a brown leather jacket and wearing a pair of blue gloves walking by then follow about ten feet behind until he walked to a car. He was to get in the back seat and wait for further instructions.
Les spied his target and carefully stood up gauging when to start walking. He came to a car and the rear passenger door opened. He sat down and someone closed the door behind him.
It was dark inside the car and he heard a rustle as a bag was placed over his head.
"Welcome to the Brotherhood, friend. You are about to meet some new friends."
Les tried to remain calm. Unfortunately, this could end in a number of ways.
He remembered the last time he had had a bag put over his head while on a mission.
~~~o0o~~~
Flashback
He had been bagged, but not with something as soft as this. It had been a burlap sack and was scratchy and rough. He also was not sitting in a comfortable car, but trussed up with his hands and feet tied together behind him. He had endured a rough ride in the back of a pick-up truck that had seen better days and possibly had no shocks left to cushion the bumps as they flew down the road.
He remembered as the bag had been pulled off his head and looking around at men wearing scarves covering their faces, staring down at him with their weapons at the ready.
He had endured days of beatings and wondered if he would make it out alive. They wanted information and he had held firm enduring the torture with stoic stubbornness.
He had been moved a number of times to keep his whereabouts secret and while he hoped that someone would rescue him, he mentally prepared to die. He had wakened up one morning to women standing by to wash and dress him in a clean set of clothing and was put in front of a video camera and forced to read what was printed beside the camera while a rifle was poking him painfully in the back, and a gun was held to the head of a 8 year old boy in front of him off camera.
The team had devised a signal to be used if this ever happened that could give a general area they were in in case that it would be seen by someone. The different subtle signals would signal what dialect was being spoken.
He had been hauled away after the recording ended and the beatings began again.
When Ranger and the men found him, he was unable to walk and would need to heal for months. Tank had offered to carry him out to the pick-up point but Ranger had shaken his head and had carried him all the way. He had felt devastated that his cousin was in so much pain and blamed himself for the whole mission going as FUBAR as it had.
Bobby tended his injuries for months and they had all reaffirmed that they would hunt for a brother to their last dying breaths.
End Flashback
~~~o0o~~~
Les sat as comfortably as he could as the car drove up and down the streets, trying to keep him guessing at the destination.
Finally it slowed down and turned, then stopped.
The car door opened and a hand grabbed him by the upper arm and guided him out of the car. He was walked up a sidewalk and told to step up three stairs. He heard a door open in front of him and he was gently guided forward again. He could hear their footsteps echo and realized that he was in some kind of a large building. His arm was pulled back and he stopped. He could hear whispers and then the sound of footsteps leaving.
Les could feel the chair against the back of his legs as he was encouraged to sit down. His hands were pulled back and they were handcuffed behind him and what appeared to be snap ties attached to his legs holding him against the legs of the chair. His knife was taken away and he could hear someone tut-tutting him on bringing a weapon.
He started to sweat under the bag, even though he could feel the cool air around him. His first thought was that he was in some kind of a packing plant but he could not smell meat.
He waited, his ears straining to hear anything. Minutes stretched into many more minutes. He wanted to squirm and try to massage his stiff shoulders but he stilled his movements. There was no telling if anyone was watching his every move and he did not want to take a chance that this was another test.
Les pretended to sit quietly waiting his fate. He regretted that he had not let Ranger know what was going on, even just to advise him what he had learned.
A door opened and he could hear footsteps. He could almost feel the people standing with him in the middle of a circle. He began to tense up.
The first voice spoke.
"Welcome, friend. This is a meeting of the Brotherhood to ascertain if you are worthy of joining our collective. As you probably suspect, we checked your references and then we delved into your life. Before we make a final decision, we are going to ask you a number of questions. Failure to respond or providing the wrong answer will result in significant discomfort."
Another voice chimed in.
"Our Brotherhood is strong, yet we feel bound to keep our true business as private as we can. We have our pledge, and we have our objectives, but our real motive is to keep our country honorable and safe from the enemies flocking to our land."
Another voice spoke.
"I am not convinced of your dedication to this cause and to pass, you must convince me that you are solemn in your views and truly want to join us in our struggle."
Another voice chimed in.
"I can see that we have scared the boy. I say we ask one question each then meet and decide his fate. I for one think that we need new blood and what better way than to recruit from this great city we live in."
Les tried to clear his throat without drawing too much attention to himself. He made it appear to the group standing around him that he was preparing himself for the all-important questions and was trying to put his best foot forward.
He hoped that the tiny recorder that was sealed in the shoulder padding of his jacket was recording everything. Silvio had promised that he would process the voice recognition upon his return.
The questions began.
"Tell us about your name and where your family originated."
Les cleared his throat and he stammered.
"My name is Enrique Michael Benevides. My father emigrated from the small town of Benidorm in Spain with his young wife, my mother. My two brothers were born in Spain and I was born in New York . My father was a cobbler and worked his whole life supporting his family."
Another voice began their question.
"Why do you want to join The American Freedom Party?"
Les remembered the motto in his pocket.
"I am saddened by the southern borders being over-run into our great country. While I too come from immigrants, my family is from the old world and wished to bring their skills to this new country and hopefully help the family to reap the rewards of hard work. My father watched as immigrants flooded into our city and scooped up all the available jobs leaving the young to forage for their own trades or join a branch of the Armed Forces to make ends meet for their families. I too was unable to get a job and was forced to serve in the Army. I watched as my unit became diluted from men from the south who had forced their way into my country for a better life. I served my time and got out when I could. I listen as co-workers spout that guns need to be eliminated from the general population and the motto that we, the citizens have a right to bear arms, should be challenged in the courts across my country."
Les stopped and took a breath as if to control his emotions.
"I want our government to become lean and mean and actually get something done to rid the scourge of the earth from my city."
He opened his mouth to say more, but a hand on his shoulder quieted him.
Voice number three spoke.
"What skills would you bring to our collective?"
Les thought of his answer.
"Although I speak the same language, I do not recognize the South American Spanish as it is a perverted/bastardized version of my native country's' beautiful native language. I was born with the ability to learn languages and I can observe and watch and hear what people are spouting on the street. I have a good memory of faces and can pick people out in a crowd. I was trained by our country to get rid of the enemy and I have no qualms about killing for the greater good."
The voice who sounded almost kindly spoke.
"Where is your family now?
Les shrugged his shoulders.
"My father was killed in a drive-by shooting and my mother died of a broken heart. I do not agree with the values and ideals of my brothers and I have not seen them for some years."
Les sat quietly, waiting as if for fate to decide.
He heard footsteps recede as if to meet in a corner of the room.
His ears picked up whispering back and forth. He heard one person expressing caution but another expressing their support. More conversation was held and finally Les could hear some kind of slapping, as if a secret handshake had just been performed.
He tensed up as the footsteps came closer once again.
Someone put their hand on his shoulder and he prepared for what might happen next.
"The Leadership has decided. You will be placed into our New Brotherhood Wing and your training will commence immediately. You will submit yourself to our ways and we will ensure that you have backing as you learn our ways.
His legs were freed from the snap ties and his hands uncuffed. Les felt the bag begin to lift off his head and he prepared to memorize the faces of the four interrogators.
Imagine his surprise when he looked around. The room was filled with men and women, of various ages and dress. They had stood so very still in the room he had no idea they had been there.
He was pulled up off the chair and first one man then another shook his hand. No names were offered. He was passed around the room and shook hands with men and women, old and young, rich and poor. His mind was trying to register just how many were there.
Les was moved to the corner of the room and two men stood by him. The obvious leader put his finger to his lips and pantomimed to be silent. Les watched as a man with a bag over his head was led into the room and he was made to sit down. He watched as the hands were handcuffed and the legs fastened to the chair legs.
He listened as once again the questions began. He was watching for signs and noted that the men asking the questions were looking at each other and shaking their heads. He watched as they moved to a vacant corner and did some kind of handshake. They walked back and once again circled the man sitting.
"We are not convinced of your dedication to our cause."
There was a gasp from the crowd as a woman stepped behind the man and produced a line in her hands. She quickly put it around his neck and tightened it. There was a slight struggle and the man slumped.
Two men moved forward and picking up the chair, they left the room. There was absolute silence.
Les watched as another chair was placed in the middle of the room and once again someone was led in. This time it was a female and once again the questions were asked. Obviously she had spoken what they wanted to hear as her ties were cut off and she was freed from the handcuffs and the bag over her head.
Les watched as the members slowly left the room. His two escorts stayed by his side and he waited for further instructions.
A voice he recognized from his questions came over and spoke.
"Mr. Benevides. Welcome and please know that you have joined a brotherhood that is very powerful and believes in the cause. Go home tonight and dwell on your good fortune. As you observed, there are only two ways out of this room. We will contact you when your training is to begin."
He walked away and Les felt a hand on his back, pushing him to follow. He found himself in the front entranceway and a car was standing by with the back door opened once again. One of his escorts held the bag in his hand and he nodded at Les. It was placed over his head and once again he was led to the car and placed in the back. The car pulled away and sped down the street once again twisting and turning. It stopped and the bag was removed and the door opened.
"We will be in touch with your next instructions. Have a good night."
Les found himself on the sidewalk back at where he had started. He looked at his watch. It was almost three a.m. but he felt too relieved to feel tired. He walked to the subway and retraced his steps, except he did not go into the Rangeman building but instead a small hotel down the road. Silvio was sitting in the room watching tv and he put his hand out for the jacket, slightly ripping the seam and retrieving the small recorder. He pocketed it and walked out the door.
Les lay on the bed spread-eagled and thanked all the gods in the world that he was still breathing.