Behind Enemy Lines

by R. J. Patterson

  Watkins shook his head. “No, of course not. I told you everything.”

  “I don’t think so. I’ve been doing this long enough to know when people are lying.”

  “So, you think I’m lying to you?”

  Black shrugged. “Are you? If you aren’t lying, you’re omitting some very pertinent details, the kind of things I need to know to keep you safe and figure out what’s really going. If you want me to help you, there can’t be any secrets between us.”

  “I don’t have any secrets.”

  “There’s more to the story than you’re telling me, isn’t there?”

  “Maybe.”

  “I can’t protect you, much less help you, if you don’t tell me what really happened over there in Japan. Base commanders don’t just magically wake up one day and decide that they want to send one of their best pilots on a suicide mission.”

  Watkins eyed Black closely but didn’t say anything.

  “That’s right,” Black said. “I looked into your record. You’re a model pilot, the kind the Air Force wants and needs. Yet you were thrust into an assignment that was designed to fail, designed to leave you for dead. At least that’s what you’re claiming.”

  “I’m not lying about that.”

  “I don’t doubt that you are. But it’s the why that interests me. You pissed off the wrong people, yet you’ve kept that information from me. I need the truth right now.”

  “You’re on a fishing expedition, aren’t you?” Watkins said.

  “Look, I get it. You’re scared. You’re wondering if you can trust me. Well, I can promise you that I’ve had my share of run-ins with powerful people over the years. Some of them are behind bars, others are dead. And a few of them are still walking around thinking that they’ve gotten away with something. But they haven’t. I just haven’t finished the job yet. So, if you want to pretend like you’re telling me everything, go ahead. You’ll always live looking over your shoulder. But if you come clean now, I just might be able to help you.”

  Watkins furrowed his brow. “Might be able to?”

  “I learned a long time ago not to make promises that I can’t guarantee.”

  “I’m not sure that’s good enough for me.”

  Black shrugged. “It’ll have to be if you expect to have anyone in your corner, fighting corrupt behemoths in the American military.”

  Watkins sighed as he walked over to the window, staring out at the awakening bustle of the country’s capital. “Just tell me what you want to know.”

  “How about let’s start at the point in the story when you learned something you wished you hadn’t?” Black said as he measured out coffee grinds.

  “I’ll never regret discovering what I did—as long as something good comes out of it.”

  Black nestled the filter into the coffee maker before filling it with water and turning it on. “Let’s hear it.”

  Watkins closed his eyes for a moment before he began. “About nine months ago, before a mission I was doing a routine inspection on my F-22 at Kadena Air Base when I noticed what appeared to be a couple of young teenage girls following one of the C-130 navigators around. Now, it’s not completely unusual to see visitors on the base, particularly locals. But something about the way the girls were acting made me question whether they were actual guests.”

  “And like a good soldier, you couldn’t just let it go, could you?” Black chimed in.

  “Of course not. What would you do?”

  “I’d check it out,” Black said.

  “Exactly,” Watkins said. “Because I suspected that the navigator was doing something he shouldn’t have, I hustled over near the hangar where his plane was, keeping a low profile. I waited a bit until I was sure no one was around and then entered through the cargo bay. There were several coffins inside, which made me wonder if I’d stumbled onto a morgue transport.”

  “A morgue transport?” Blunt asked.

  Watkins nodded. “Yeah, you know, guys fighting in the Middle East who get blown to bits by a roadside bomb or ambushed by some suicide bomber? They have to get home some way.”

  “And what’d you find?”

  “A slew of coffins, but the funny thing is I hadn’t heard of anyone getting killed,” Watkins said. “Usually, it’s all over base news and we have a moment of silence every Monday morning for the men killed in action. But it had been three months since I’d heard of a single soldier dying, much less a whole bunch of them. And based on the number of coffins, you would’ve thought we lost an entire platoon in Afghanistan.”

  “You hardly hear of any soldiers dying over there anymore.”

  “Precisely why I was skeptical,” Watkins said, shaking his index finger. “I knew there was something shady going on. So, I snooped around. I was just about to open one of the coffins when the navigator caught me in the act. He asked me what I was doing and I had to think fast. I just told him that I was looking to see what kind of bed they’d put me in if I crashed and my body was recoverable. He just glared at me and asked me what I was really doing on the plane. I told him I was looking for one of my pilot buddies who flew C-130s. He said he wasn’t scheduled to fly that day and that I should leave immediately. So I did, complying so I didn’t make anyone suspicious.”

  “But apparently you did make someone suspicious, right?” Black asked.

  Watkins nodded. “My theory is that the navigator told the base commander what I was doing. The next thing I know, I’m getting called onto the red carpet and getting reprimanded for my actions.”

  “And that’s when you knew something was up,” Black said.

  “Absolutely right. I may have dropped it if I hadn’t heard anything else about it. But when I was called in for something as inane as looking for a fellow pilot, I knew I’d stumbled onto something.”

  “You didn’t consider the consequences?” Black asked.

  “Of course I did,” Watkins said. “But I don’t want to be part of any organization that’s transporting people illegally around the world.”

  The coffee maker sputtered as it spit out the final few drops. Black pulled out two mugs from the cupboard and filled them. “So, that’s what you found?”

  Watkins picked up one of the cups and took a sip. “Not right away. But I started snooping around on some of the manifests. The C-130s in Kadena were shipping somewhere in the neighborhood of thirty to forty coffins a week. A week! What the hell were we doing moving around that many boxes? That’s when I knew something seriously shady was going on. But I needed to know what exactly before I could take it to any of my superiors, or even know which superiors to take it to.”

  “And that’s when your base commander found out what you were doing?” Black asked.

  Watkins nodded. “I got careless and was caught on the surveillance footage. One of the security guards turned me in to Col. Roman. He told me that what I was doing was endangering my career. At that point, I still didn’t know exactly what was going on, but that only made me more curious. A week later, I hid up in the catwalk of one of the C-130 hangers. It was one of the ones assigned to that particular navigator who caught me the first time. I was pretty sure he was in on whatever was happening. So, I staked out that spot and waited.”

  “And what’d you find?” Black asked.

  “Just as I suspected,” Watkins said. “I watched the navigator sneak four young teenage girls onto the plane one night. I took a video of it and decided to show it to my squadron officer since I’d grown suspicious of Col. Roman being above board with everything.”

  Black nodded. “What did they do to make you fear for your life?”

  “Col. Roman called me into his office and thanked me for alerting him to this issue. He said that he wanted to handle the discipline privately so it wouldn’t become a public relations nightmare back home.”

  “And did he follow through with what he said?”

  Watkins shrugged. “It seemed like it because the navigator was gone the next day. I asked around about
him, and everyone said he was being reassigned.”

  “Yet you’re still suspicious of Roman?”

  “I’m getting there,” Watkins said. “The day after I found out that navigator was being sent somewhere else, I get called into Roman’s office. He tells me that he has a special reconnaissance assignment for me over Russia.”

  “You don’t think your squadron officer is in on it?”

  “He could be, but he’s not the man pulling the strings,” Watkins said. “The only one who could’ve assigned me to such a dangerous mission would’ve been Roman. And if nobody came looking for me after that, I can’t help but draw any other conclusion. He has to be in on it, if not directing this entire illegal operation.”

  Black took a long sip of his drink as he considered what to say next. “Let’s say you’re right about all this. The biggest thing I need is proof. If I go up against these guys, I need to have irrefutable evidence that they’re doing what you’re claiming.”

  “I’ve got you covered,” Watkins said. “I have a copy of the video I took of the navigator sneaking those girls onto a plane.”

  “How’d you manage that?”

  “I uploaded it to a cloud server almost immediately after it happened,” Watkins said. “And it’s a good thing I did because when I got back here, all my personal effects were waiting for me. And the footage was deleted off my phone.”

  “That’s definitely a red flag.”

  “I still don’t know how they broke into my phone without my password.”

  Black’s eyebrows shot upward. “You’d be amazed what tech geniuses can do.”

  “I’ve since made several copies and emailed friends the video as well, so killing me won’t bury the truth.”

  “I’m gonna need a copy of all that so I can levy these charges,” Black said.

  Watkins held up his index finger as he drained the rest of his coffee. Then he marched back into his bedroom and returned dangling a small set of keys.

  “What’s this?” Black asked as he took them from Watkins.

  “There’s a locker at Union Station, number forty-two. You’ll find reports detailing everything I told you along with a thumb drive containing the video. It’ll contain all the evidence you’ll need to make a compelling case to have Roman, the navigator, and whoever else is in on this scheme put in a dark hole somewhere for a very long time.”

  “Thanks,” Black said. “I’ll do what I can, and hopefully it’ll be enough to protect you.”

  “Well, I’m planning on blowing the lid off this operation anyway at the ceremony today,” Watkins said. “I don’t think there’ll be any way they can touch me after that.”

  “I wouldn’t be so confident that they’ll leave you alone,” Black said. “Just because you expose them doesn’t mean they can’t find other creative ways to besmirch your good name and smear you with lies in public. If you plan on going through with that, I’m going to fight for you, but know that you’ll be putting an even bigger target on your back.”

  Watkins nodded knowingly. “Thanks for believing me. I just want to see these bastards put away for what they’re doing. It’s disgusting. And violating the public’s trust like this, using government funds and aircraft to transport these young girls around, it needs to be brought into the light and dealt with accordingly.”

  “I’m with you on that,” Black said. “I’ll see you at the ceremony, and good luck.”

  “You too,” Watkins said.

  Black left the safe house and hustled to his car. He didn’t have any time to lose if Watkins was going to make a public statement about what he saw in just a few hours.

  CHAPTER 9

  BLACK CHECKED THE TIME and considered if he could get to Union Station and back before the ceremony began. However, before he could make a final decision, his phone rang with a call from Blunt.

  “You’re up bright and early,” Black said as he answered.

  Blunt grunted. “Duty is always calling, even at this ungodly hour.”

  “I’ve been at the safe house talking with Watkins, so you’re not rousing me from any sleep.”

  “Are you trying to outwork me?”

  “Trust me. I don’t want your job. But what I do want is to put away those men who tried to kill Watkins and cover it up.”

  “He somehow convinced you?” Blunt asked.

  “It didn’t take much, just the whole truth, which he’d withheld from us. And to be honest, I can’t say I blame him.”

  “What happened over there?”

  “He thinks his base commander is operating some kind of human trafficking ring.”

  “Human trafficking?”

  “Yep,” Black said. “And if you think about it, that’s a far better way to transport people instead of in the cargo bay of a ship. Military planes go everywhere and aren’t subject to the kind of inspections you get at an international shipyard. It’s brilliant as far as illegal schemes go. If you’ve got a few crews willing to handle all the dirty work, it’s nearly flawless.”

  “Unless someone catches you.”

  “And that’s exactly what Watkins did. He stumbled on them moving a shipment of girls one day and reported it. He went back and filmed it for proof before getting his top secret assignment to spy on the Russians. Supposedly, there’s a locker at Union Station that has all this documented.”

  “That certainly makes his fear sound more rational than when he debriefed with us in Morocco,” Blunt said. “I’m always willing to give someone the benefit of the doubt, but he wasn’t giving us much to go on.”

  “Can you blame him? I can’t. The guy’s scared for good reason. His superiors who he trusted tried to kill him and cover it up.”

  “Well, that makes my assignment for you today all the more important.”

  “You need me to do something for you?” Black asked.

  “Yeah. Late last night, I met with Robert Besserman at the NSA, and he had a favor for me. He wanted me to have you check out the staging environment for Watkins’s ceremony this morning.”

  “Why me?”

  “There have been some threats levied against Senator Gaither that he wants us to do some due diligence on,” Blunt said. “And since you’ll already be there lending moral support to Watkins—and you’re the best man for the job—I thought I’d give you something to do.”

  “Senator Gaither? Maybe I just won’t show up.”

  Blunt chuckled. “I told Besserman something to that effect. He didn’t think it was all that funny.”

  “I know it’s our job to run these ops behind the scenes, but could you give me anyone to protect I despise more than Gaither?”

  “I doubt it.”

  Black grunted. “So, what are the threats?”

  “Maybe a deranged gunman? In the dossier Besserman prepared for me, they seem to think someone is going to shoot Gaither.”

  “That’s a pretty specific threat. Anyone attempting to take Gaither out that way wouldn’t be interested in keeping it a secret.”

  “They’d be a hero to more than half the country,” Blunt said. “That guy’s approval rating is just south of twenty percent, even from the people who voted for him.”

  “Those good Missourians cast a vote for him asking both parties to show me another candidate.”

  Blunt chuckled. “I can only imagine how bad the opposing party’s candidate is for Gaither to keep getting elected.”

  “Maybe I’ll be slack on my job today,” Black cracked.

  “Just keep your eyes peeled. Remember that we don’t want anything happening to Watkins either.”

  “Roger that,” Black said. “Don’t tell Besserman this, but Watkins is top priority. The world needs men like him. And we sure can do without a few less blowhard politicians.”

  “You won’t get any argument from me there. Just get out there early and do a preliminary threat assessment of the area. Send me what you come up with, and I’ll forward it along to Besserman so he knows that we’re taking this seriously
. And then after that, keep an eye on Watkins.”

  “You got it.”

  *

  THE SITE FOR the ceremony was on the grassy quad at the national mall. Black immediately saw it as a nightmare when it came to determining what position an assassin might take up. There were rooftops on the left and right, albeit heavily secure government buildings, most of which belonged to the Smithsonian museums. There were plenty of places with restricted views that could be difficult to inspect.

  Black scanned the area, and his first thought was that if his assignment was to kill someone on stage, he’d sneak onto the grounds before anyone else and stake out in the trees. And since the leaves had yet to fall, it was a potential location that Black decided had to be checked out.

  One by one, he ruled out certain trees as he peered up into the branches. There were a couple more that he proceeded to investigate, though he wasn’t sure if even the most skilled marksman could shoot through foliage and hit a target from this distance. When he finished, he flashed the CIA credentials he possessed for situations like this and asked the security personnel if he could take a moment on the stage to look around. Once permission was granted, Black climbed up the steps and pulled out a pair of binoculars from his bag to look around.

  During his preliminary assessment, Black didn’t see many unobstructed views from the surrounding buildings. However, there was one: the Museum of Natural Science offered a clean shot from the rooftop. Black would’ve picked it had he been given such an assignment, though it would’ve been far more complicated if the assassination attempt was anticipated. Either way, that’s the location that made the most sense.

  Black checked his watch. The ceremony was set to begin in just under two hours. And while it wasn’t a huge amount of time, it was enough for him to hammer out a brief report and issue it to Blunt so he could do with it as he saw fit. Black found the nearest park bench and typed out his thoughts before emailing them to Blunt.

  While writing, Black overheard a man claiming to be a reporter for The Washington Post in a heated argument with the ceremony’s public relations firm rep. The reporter stomped off, sulking over the fact that his request had obviously been denied.