PROBLEMATIC

Chapter 22

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As a knock came from the General's door, the four MPs marched to the adjoining door and waited for us to fall in. The door was opened and we marched in. Three generals were seated at an oval conference table, with our handler, General Harley at the head. He signalled for us to remain where we stood as Hal closed and locked the door behind us.

We saluted in deference to the generals, standing at attention. "At ease, men."

Instantly a look of surprise crossed the face of General Warner who was sitting on the right. General Harley was in control and only raised a quizzical eyebrow at his colleagues, waiting for the expected response as he turned his head slowly to the left. The other General, however, was immediately furious.

"Arrest these men for treason!" he commanded to the MPs.

The MPs remained in formation, unmoved, disregarding his direct order, except they positioned their assault rifles in attack prep mode.

When the MPs did not obey his command, he was livid. Standing up from his chair, he yelled while gesticulating wildly, "I just commanded you to arrest these traitors!" He glared at them. He was beside himself, a nervous sweat already appearing on his forehead.

"Michael, you're making an ass of yourself. Sit down! These are my MPs and they have followed my orders. Your underling MPs are outside, under guard, completely outranked by these four SEALs. Your subordinate MPs have been taken into custody for questioning. For your information, I needed to make sure these four most honourable men made it back here, alive. From all our intel, that was not your intention. Shoot to kill was not in any memo from me. You have a lot to answer for."

Confused, General Warner asked, "Am I missing something here, Roger? From what we were discussing, the mission failed. We were just discussing funeral arrangements for those men killed in action. What's going on?"

With a slight tilt of his head to the MPs, two of them marched promptly to stand behind General Rickman. "Stand up, Michael, while my MPs frisk you for weapons."

"What the hell?!" was the enraged response from him.

"Well? What is this?" General Warner asked, still rather confused.

"Let's call it an intervention of sorts, a hearing of the kind that precedes a court martial, if he chooses to take that path."

With that remark, General Rickman was ready to blow a gasket.

Cal and Hal remained beside us, their weapons poised in readiness, impressive and intimidating by their actions and their formidable size. I recognised Norman Bates, aka Psycho, and Titan, aka Johnny Atlas, who reminded me so much of Tank. They were a scary looking pair. Inwardly, I smirked at the General's choice of MPs.

"This is preposterous! How dare you treat me with such contempt and disrespect. I will not stand for this nonsense. These men are untrustworthy and need to be punished, court-martialled for their disloyalty and lack of patriotism!"

He was pointing at us wildly, with spittle flying from his mouth. General Warner was eyeing him suspiciously. We knew General Warner, and trusted him almost as much as General Harley. Casting his eyes from General Harley, to us and back to General Rickman, it was obvious that he was finally seeing the bigger picture. Ah yes. Enlightenment, as the proverbial light bulb switched on.

"Allow me to clarify, Brian. Contrary to belief, dead men do tell tales. This Alpha team of operatives was sent on a mission. You are both already aware of the details. However, someone intervened, in a number of ways, and, to cut a long story short, the mission went FUBAR. Intel had deliberately been altered, against my specific directives, in order to guarantee a failed mission. Captain Manoso, Lieutenant Stoneham, Sergeants Gomes and Elkington survived, by having to make an emergency jump from the chopper, just before it was shot down. The drop zone had been changed, setting them up for an ambush. It is believed that the helicopter was shot down by guerrilla insurgents. Bad intel again. However, someone leaked the intel to that guerrilla party with determined accuracy. So many red flags. Missing in action was soon upgraded to killed in action when they missed their check ins repeatedly. Collateral damage it seems. Unfortunately, we lost two good men, who died at your command, the pilot and the co-pilot of that chopper. Did you corrupt them and include them in your dastardly plans? More collateral damage to achieve your own disgraceful goals?"

General Rickman folded his arms defiantly, obviously annoyed, that this briefing was not going according to his plans. The look of disgust on General Warner's face clearly showed that he understood what went down. It seems someone was posturing and positioning himself during this entire debacle, knowing that General Harley was planning to step down. I surmised that he may have been drawn into the deceit but declined. Call it an educated guess.

"Let's talk about 'disloyalty and patriotism'. Your words, Michael. Your loyalty and your patriotism have come into question. We have critical and compelling evidence, with irrefutable proof of your direct involvement in this malicious plot. Incriminating evidence that you cannot escape. Your intent to have these men, my Alpha team, killed in action, for your own personal gains is reprehensible, involving premeditated murder, conspiracy, treason, drug smuggling and fraternising with guerrilla insurgents and an emergent drug cartel - the very emergent cartel which was the target of this mission, to stop the drug smuggling into our country. Cocaine smuggling from Colombia."

"That's outrageous! You have nothing. You have it all wrong. These desperado mercenaries were the perpetrators."

"This would be a good time for you to shut your mouth, Michael. I don't give a flying fuck what you think! Other than these four wonderful, exemplary operatives, under my command, with specific instructions to annihilate that emergent drug cartel, we have other credible witnesses."

While Rickman looked increasingly uncomfortable with his blank face continuing to evade him, General Harley pressed the intercom. "Jason."

Psycho opened the other side door and invited Jason inside. He looked well and slick in his fatigues with barely a limp after his ordeal with that punk kid shooting him in the thigh. He saluted the generals, nodded our way but maintained his blank face.

"At ease, soldier."

"Rickman. I'd like to introduce Captain Jason Packham, aka Pacman. For nearly four years he has been deep undercover, in Colombia, getting intel on the very same emergent drug cartel, specifically about one Diego Sanchez."

General Rickman snorted in derision and mockery.

"FYI, his handler was our recently retired colleague, General Hugh Connors, who expressly insisted I take over his portfolios. He was explicit that you were not to be anywhere near this. He already had reservations about your indiscretions and trustworthiness."

This was received with a Stephanie-worthy Jersey eye roll.

"Captain Packham, in his undercover role, was involved in a new Colombian government directive with the agricultural cooperative he managed, which enabled small farm holders to be competitive in a market dominated by large conglomerates. This directive, supported by the US government, was instigated in their battle against cocaine."

It was obvious that General Harley was hitting the mark as General Rickman scoffed and muttered under his breath.

"In your power hungry need for control, you also changed the name of the target for this mission. Juan Pedro Gonzales was Pacman's cover and you deliberately altered the directives to eliminate him. You actively consorted with the enemy, the emergent cartel group leader. That, according to American law, constitutes treason."

"That's bullshit. I was here. In Georgia."

Ignoring him. General Harley persisted with his onslaught.

"Through the methodical work of Captain Packham, he compiled a very comprehensive profile with thorough documented intel, revealing the likelihood of involvement from an outside source. He suspected an inside job for which he was gathering more evidence over many months, particularly with this most recent shipment. Because of your own stupidity, our Alpha operatives, while maintaining their mission goal, knowing they were considered MIA and more likely KIA, were able to locate and identify him. They already suspected internal interference with all the red flags they encountered from the get-go."

General Rickman glared furiously at us accusingly, like it was all out fault. A low grumble was his only response as he tightened his defiant posture. With a minuscule lift of an eyebrow as he cast a glance my way, General Harley paused for effect.

"Let's talk about Viktor."

Nice segue. That was all he said as he sipped his water, his eyes firmly fixed on his beleaguered colleague. General Rickman flinched momentarily before he tried to compose himself.

"I believe you know Viktor, very well. But his passports, one Colombian and also an American one, had his name as Viktor Jacob Santiago Richardson. It was obvious that he was an American, not just by the careless dress choice of the KU Class of 24 shirt he was wearing. But, we know it was a false passport. Did you enable that through your contacts? Fast tracking it? Our investigators were able to trace the complicated and convoluted paper trail, despite your efforts to redact much of that information. They discovered the third, genuine passport."

Once again, he paused for effect.

"Viktor is not a Richardson per se, but Rickman. Viktor Jacob Santiago Rickman. Despite earning a scholarship to Kansas University, he dropped out of college. The college redactions were uncovered, revealing a drug addict who not only failed to attend classes, but also the rehabilitation order for dealing and taking drugs. At the same time, substantial donations were gifted to the college. Direct from one of your accounts. Hush money perhaps? Bribes? After each episode, Viktor was re-enrolled under different names, four times in fact. But you knew he was a lost cause. By the way, Viktor also failed the psych eval for boot camp for the army with a misguided aim to become a Ranger."

Oh yes. That touched a raw nerve.

"Your son, Viktor, was in Colombia. Your son, by his own volition, sought out Juan Pedro Gonzales and shot him in the thigh. Had it not been for the Alpha team already there in situ, all his tireless undercover work may have been lost forever because of his wounds. He was safely medevac-ed back to Miami, requiring immediate surgery. Ranger's team was beyond exemplary. After his recovery, Captain Packham was able to share his intel and handed over significant, vital e-data and photographic evidence, which he had accumulated while undercover. Essentially, because of the critical need for secrecy and security, to avoid the misdirection and conspiracies, I was forced to use an excellent team of private investigators, with high military clearance. Through their diligence and tenacity, the pieces started to unravel and come together. Their forensic auditing was most comprehensive and revealing."

Taking a sip of water, letting that bombshell sink in, General Harley slowly eyed and acknowledged each one of us, with pride. General Warner was no longer resting so casually on the armrest of his chair, but leaning forward, intently focused on all this new information, fingers entwined, resting under his chin with his elbows on the table. The revelations were only just beginning. I smiled inwardly at his acknowledgment to Rangeman with the 'excellent private investigators'.

"I was here," Rickman iterated defiantly.

"Yes, how interesting. Rather convenient, in fact. Because, your wife, Sofia was not."

An involuntary jolt was General Rickman's sudden reaction. The 'Oh shit' look was very telling. His composure wavered, and was about to be shattered.

"She was visiting family!"

Yeah right. Clutching at straws, as they say. Considering what she shared with us after our return to Miami, it will be interesting to see how he handles that. I sense that the shit is about to hit the fan.

"Yes, visiting family, you say. Indeed. In Colombia. Hm, how very convenient. My investigators noted her frequent visits over the last couple of years and how they coincided with a number of shipments entering the States. Coincidence? It seems she was visiting the very man who was the target, Diego Sanchez."

"Her mother was sick!"

"Ah yes. Her mother. The same mother who died over seven years ago. Somebody is lying here. Why was she known to visit Diego Sanchez?"

"She was being held hostage!"

The two generals laughed sardonically at that lame attempt. How did he know if she was allegedly being held hostage? He knows more than he's letting on. That was a faux pas he will certainly regret.

General Harley was cool and assertive, completely in control, his commanding presence and his voice exuding a calm yet fierce composure. He was imperturbable. In contrast, General Rickman was becoming increasingly agitated, nervously wiping sweat from his brow with a handkerchief. Each time he tried to stand up to retort in defence, Psycho and Titan firmly pressed his shoulders down, holding him in place.

"I find that hard to believe, Michael. Before Sofia came to the States, she was previously married to Sanchez, who is the father of Viktor, hence the Santiago in his middle names. You adopted her son after you married her. Was she a mail order bride? I'd say she specifically sought you out. You married within two years of her arrival and suddenly she is an American citizen. That's a process which usually takes up to five years for a lawful, permanent resident. Fast work. Dual citizenship as well, hence the dual passports for both her and Viktor. Why the name changes? What are you hiding?"

Ooh yeah. That hit a raw nerve as he spluttered and swore in his seat, restricted firmly from getting up. His face turned red and the strain was definitely taking a toll.

Not allowing General Rickman a chance to regroup, General Harley wasted no time as he pressed the intercom again. "Send in the prisoner."

A more subdued Sofia entered the General's conference room. However, as soon as she spotted her husband that changed instantly. She became hysterical once again leaping into a tirade of rapid Spanish. He was surprised to see her, and shocked that she was in cuffs, with two female MPs beside her.

"Say nothing, Sofia!" he implored. Too late for that.

"Be quiet, Mrs Rickman! There will be no crying in this room! Or you will leave me no choice but to have you subdued by other means." She sniffed and hiccupped, nodding her head. It was more a performance than a show of genuine emotions. Crocodile tears.

"Sit down and listen carefully. This is a serious matter here, and you will treat it with the respect that is expected."

She nodded contritely, her sad, scared eyes wandering to her husband, General Rickman.

"You have been arrested for a variety of crimes against the United States including drug smuggling and consorting with Colombian guerrillas with vital information resulting in the ambush of an American helicopter, which was shot down, killing all on board."

She said nothing, although her eyes widened a fraction with the last part.

"This is not a game, Mrs Rickman. Lives are at risk. Lives have been taken. That is commonly referred to as murder, premeditated murder in this case. This is a matter of national security, both for the US and the Colombian governments. Both countries have gone to great lengths to battle the smuggling of cocaine with internationally supported directives."

She made a dismissive shrug which made the two Generals shake their heads in disgust. Was she in denial or just plain stupid?

"You, and your son Viktor, were in Colombia with the sole purpose of arranging a shipment of cocaine to our shores." She was wringing her hands tightly, trying to avoid looking at General Harley.

"Under your given instructions," glancing directly at General Rickman, "you informed the guerrilla insurgents nearby, encouraging them with a reward if they succeeded. You made direct contact with the guerrillas' leader, Elonzo Lopez, a notoriously reckless, dangerous man, who was easily bought with the promise of cash, rum and drugs. Witnesses say he came into the local barrio boasting about their ambush feat. He and his three men were captured and arrested by two Colombian undercover agents. Your direct involvement is an act of treason which comes under the federal laws. These are not deemed under criminal law. It is a federal felony and you will be charged and punished accordingly."

She gasped at that. Fear was setting in.

I grinned inwardly, and then Jason winked at me. Confirmation. Of course! Emilio and Miguel. They were working together. I lifted my chin letting him know I figured it out.

"Rickman. You knew you were in over your head but it was too late. My assumption is that greed was a leading factor but in no way an excuse. Sofia, wanted to live the life of luxury to which she had become accustomed. Her extravagant jewellery was a clear indication of that. Mrs Rickman, you had two men trying to win your heart and you played that rivalry to your selfish, greedy advantage."

Another deliberate pause.

"Your son Viktor was enabled. You persisted in 'rescuing' him for his nasty drug habit. You both mistakenly thought that him getting a scholarship to Kansas would get him away from the drug life. You never held him accountable, just kept on bailing him out, throwing money as bribes at the Dean, to cover his misdeeds and crimes. So many redactions in his file. Criminal acts by both of you. As parents, by indulging him, you failed him."

He drank the last of his water and surveyed his two felons.

"Look at me, Mrs Rickman. I have something very important to tell you."

He waited until she met his stern gaze. She swallowed hard and gave a little nod.

"You lived a promiscuous, double life, one in America and another in Colombia. The promiscuity is not for us to judge, however, when it involves the enemy it concerns us deeply, compromising the safety and welfare of thousands of people, young people the same age as your son. Each visit to Colombia, despite assertions that you were visiting your sick mother, was a lie. We know she died over seven years earlier. You stayed with your lover, your first husband, Diego Sanchez. It appears you never divorced Sanchez. You were not held hostage as was alleged. Your son was free to roam around, which he did. Because of your frequent visits to Colombia, US immigration already had you marked as a red flag, despite having dual passports."

The General was now talking slowly and calmly. Her eyes wandered fleetingly to her husband and he returned a tight-lipped gaze. He was not happy about that being aired in this forum, but, from his demeanour, I'd say he already knew about it, maybe even encouraged it. She played them.

"Speaking of your son," he remarked even more seriously, looking at both General Rickman and his wife, Sofia, "I have some bad news."

She gasped. His blank face set in place, as they both braced themselves.

"Viktor is dead. Knowing that Juan Pedro Gonzales was the target, he took it upon himself to be the one to kill him, in a misguided show of machismo. He shot Gonzales in the thigh, then, through his own clumsiness because he was drunk, subsequently shot himself in the foot. At the sight of his own blood he collapsed, hitting his head against the wall. His neck was broken. There was nothing they could do to revive him, even with an experienced medic in attendance."

Shock. Gasps. An anguished gasp. Tears rolled silently down her face. She started to rock, muttering under her breath, "Tonto. Estúpido tonto, mi querido hijo," over and over again. (Fool, stupid idiot, my darling son) "I told you not to go. But you didn't listen."

"His body was brought back on a medevac. Following these proceedings, a funeral can be arranged, with your attendance supervised, to farewell your son. According to the toxicology reports, Viktor had cocaine in his system and a substantial amount of alcohol, well over the limit for someone his age. A deadly cocktail."

Both the Rickman's were now silent, overwhelmed with the shock, perhaps realising the cost of their crimes. There are always consequences of our actions and choices. Do they even have a conscience, I wondered? She was too busy protecting her livelihood, her wealthy existence. Denial was clearly evident. I don't think she realises the gravity of her crimes. General Rickman understands completely as he sat there, his head bowed in submission. Remorse? Regret more likely. He fucked up, big time.

General Harley gave them a bit more time. Neither counter argued the facts. Grief with acceptance.

"Sofia. You were rescued from the location in Colombia, only because of your American status. Just like your American husband, you will be detained in a federal prison to appear before a panel of military judges. We have body cam evidence of your admissions including trying to coerce your rescuers to join your lucrative business in the cocaine smuggling trade."

General Rickman looked at her in disgust, shaking his head, followed by an exasperated facepalm.

"Rickman, you interfered with the mission to cover your son's ass and to keep your wife in the lifestyle to which she had grown accustomed. Living a life of luxury, funded by the cocaine smuggling, while young people died of overdoses and abuse in its many forms, is despicable. You, too, wanted that lifestyle, by your own admissions. By the way, an informant advised their concerns with me over your sudden wealth with many extravagant purchases, over the past two years especially. You conspired to make this look like a suicide mission. The list is long, from conspiracy to murder, and treason. You are a traitor to your country. I am disappointed in you. The very thing we strive so hard with missions like this, when helping countries like Colombia to eradicate the lucrative cocaine trade, you of all people interfered at the worst level. Your incessant efforts to terminate this mission, is appalling. All that for personal self-seeking greed, and power? You know what awaits you for your felonious behaviour."

He remained indifferent, yet understanding fully the implications of his dirty, underhanded deeds.

"This document is a search warrant for your present home, and the other properties discovered in various versions of your names. Forensic auditing from the investigators had uncovered multiple accounts, including off shore shell companies for money laundering, where you hid your illegally acquired wealth, the profits from your crimes. Other property including luxury cars, and at least one luxury yacht, which will now be seized. I'm sure Sofia's taste for extravagant gold and jewellery will also be of interest. Gold is a tradeable commodity. The IRS has been informed and they will be in touch with you for tax evasion."

His shoulders slumped. But there was more to come. General Harley's voice was firm and commanding.

"Regarding RicoSnape…" he paused for effect. Surprise from both the Rickmans. "One of the investigators recognised the cryptic construction of the title you gave this last shipment. Even without knowing your name, your full name, this particular investigator opened up an entirely new direction through simple ingenuity. Michael Henry Alan Rickman III. Using that knowledge, they were able to track and identify your accounts along with other cryptic codes and strategies you used to hide them. The shipping manifest listed coffee beans and various cacao products, as well as tropical fruit. Once the shipment arrived in Miami, as they were unloading under cover of darkness, the combined alphabet agencies swooped in and captured all the personnel involved in the smuggling. The hidden cocaine was found and seized, a much larger quantity than past shipments. You have been going under the radar for some time. Your complacency let you down. That will also be added to your charges. Drug smuggling."

"Get this scum out of my office!" Titan and Psycho handcuffed General Rickman.

General Harley stood and turned his back on them, a look of disgust and distaste on his visage, while the Rickmans were taken away. His colleague praised him for a comprehensive pre-trial summary.

He walked over to us, and Packham, congratulating us all on our remarkable endurance, resilience and courage, in overcoming such persistent attacks on our mission. General Warner did the same.

"Very impressive, men. That is what makes you the Alpha team. You will be missed but we understand."

After a final debriefing, we left, saying farewell to our new friend Jason, in parting I made him a job offer and he grinned. "I'll think about it."

We were flown to Newark, first class, compliments of the General.

I only had one thing on my mind.

"I see that smile," Sly nudged as he grinned at me.

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