Wolfe Trap

by S L Shelton

  I smiled as I squeezed off the first nine and then yelled, “Bang,” for the tenth one.

  Dylan broke out in hysterical laughter as Paul came around the divider with his spotter scope to look at my target.

  “Perfect score,” Dylan said, still chuckling.

  Paul lowered his scope from his eye and shook his head. “You aren’t doing Joiner, or you, any favors. Would you want him as backup?”

  I leaned backward to look around the divider. “Eric…you got my back?” I asked.

  “Most definitely,” he replied, grinning.

  I looked at Paul. “What about you, Paul…you got my back?”

  He scoffed as he returned to his side.

  “Exactly,” I muttered as I showed my cleared weapon to the range cadre when he walked by.

  “Nice scores,” the cadre officer muttered. “That’s what I’ve been waiting for from you.”

  I just nodded acceptance of his comment and began picking up the expended brass.

  After our qualifying was done, we headed back to the dorms to pack for Christmas leave. I kept holding out hope that Nick would show up to take me back north, but I was perfectly alright with the idea of taking the shuttle into Richmond the next day and finding alternate transportation back to Fairfax.

  Nonetheless, when Nick appeared in my doorway after being gone for two days, I was glad to see him.

  “Nick!” I exclaimed, dropping my book. “How’s—”

  “Can you give us the room?” Nick interrupted, looking at Eric.

  “Sure,” Eric replied before grabbing his study material and sliding out the door around Nick. Once he was gone, Nick closed the door and sat on the bed across from me.

  “Have you found him?” I asked.

  Nick shook his head. “But they’ve confirmed he made it out of the kill zone,” he said quietly. “He was bleeding pretty bad…so, for all we know, he’s lying dead in some field.”

  “Any leads on who attacked the convoy?” I asked.

  Nick shook his head. “The only thing left at the site was blood, dead marshals, and burned-out vehicles,” he replied, leaning back against the wall. “They’re processing DNA as fast as they can, but it may not turn up anything. Whoever did it wasn’t just well-funded, they were well-trained. It’s like a ghost army came in, hit the convoy, and then evaporated.”

  I shook my head in frustration. “Fuck,” I muttered. I wanted off the Farm. I wanted to go out and track Gaines down like I did last time. I wanted to know how the attacks on me, the nukes, Mark, and the payoffs to politicians and bureaucrats were all connected. I wanted to hack every system in the country until I found the key and then walk over and set the bastards on fire.

  “I’ve got more bad news for you,” Nick said quietly.

  I looked up expectantly.

  “You’re confined to base over the holiday break,” he said plainly, not letting any sign of apology slip into his tone. I knew Nick. He was sorry to have to tell me, but to him, showing regret would have felt like giving me an opening. He didn’t want to deal with that.

  I shrugged, drawing a mild look of surprise from him. “I figured that now since I’m the best bait for whoever is doing this, John would lock me down,” I replied with a defeated tone.

  “How the fu—”

  Nick’s words trailed off. He hadn’t expected me to figure it out that quickly. John would have, though.

  I shook my head. “It doesn’t matter,” I replied. “I’d have done the same thing in John’s position.”

  He looked at me suspiciously.

  “Don’t feel bad,” he said with a grin after a few beats. “Kobe’s gonna stay, too. You can catch up on your knife fighting.”

  “Awesome,” I muttered sarcastically.

  **

  6:15 p.m. on Friday, December 24th—The Farm, Camp Peary, Virginia

  I had just finished my second class of the day with Kobe. Even the fact that it was Christmas Eve didn’t get me a pass from working out. Don’t get me wrong; I loved learning from Kobe—and my fighting skills had multiplied many times over since I started training under him. But it still would have been nice to see my friends for Christmas.

  “Only one class tomorrow,” Kobe said as I wrapped a towel around my neck and headed for the gym exit. “It being Christmas and all.”

  “Are you staying here just for me?” I asked, ignoring his generous offer.

  “No,” he replied tersely. “I like it here.”

  I couldn’t tell if he was kidding or not. “Don’t you have family to spend the holidays with?” I pressed.

  “On second thought…three lessons tomorrow,” he replied, his face a stony impasse.

  I looked at him a beat, not reacting.

  “I have a daughter,” he replied finally. “She’ll most likely be with her husband’s family for the holiday. I don’t get to see her very often.” He sat down to put his shoes one before looking at me. “And I used to have a wife…but I haven’t seen her in almost forty years.”

  “Got lost going for beer?” I asked with a grin.

  He smiled as he bent to tie his shoes. “Something like that,” he replied quietly.

  As he got up and walked over to the door to join me, I flipped the breaker switches off for the overhead lights. On the way out, he patted me on the back. “No class tomorrow if you promise to come and find me at some point during the day to have a drink.”

  I nodded. “Deal,” I replied. “See you tomorrow.”

  He nodded before heading toward the instructors’ building. I nodded at two Baynebridge security guys as I passed them on my way to the empty student dorms. I walked through the lobby and noticed a light coming from the hallway that my room was down.

  I didn’t leave any lights on, I thought. I tensed myself as I walked quietly down the hall and noticed the light was coming from my room.

  I definitely didn’t leave the lights on in my room, I added silently.

  I pulled the practice knife out of my waistband. It was made of wood and had no blade, but it was solid and could be used a small club in a pinch. I pushed my door open and saw Penny Rhodes standing by the window, looking out into the darkness.

  I cleared my throat.

  She flinched but didn’t turn toward me. “Kobe has you working hard,” she said.

  “Not worried about an attack?” I asked as I tossed my towel, gym bag, and practice knife on the bed.

  “Attackers don’t usually warn you by clearing their throats,” she replied, turning toward me finally with a crooked, yet seductive, half grin.

  “I thought you’d be gone by now,” I said, pausing by the bed, unsure how to play this.

  “Nah,” she replied, holding her smile. “People in our line of work don’t usually have families to worry about on the holidays.”

  I nodded. Though analysts, admins, managers, and techs had the luxury of being close to home most of their careers, operatives and field officers could sometimes be away from home for months on end, just to turn around and head out again—not the best ingredients for a happy family.

  “So you came by to wish me a Merry Christmas?” I asked, mirroring her crooked smirk.

  “Yes,” she replied, drawing the word out slowly as if there were other hidden compartments within it. “And maybe dinner.”

  “Okay,” I replied. “Let me grab a quick shower.”

  “I’ll be here,” she said.

  I pulled a change of clothes out of my drawer and grabbed my shaving bag before walking across the hall to the showers. After several minutes of letting the hot water pound my aching body, I heard my phone vibrating on the sink. I quickly dashed out of the shower stall without turning the water off and shook the excess water off my hand before picking it up. I didn’t recognize the number, and it wasn’t secure.

  “Hello,” I said, not wanting to use my name over an unsecured line.

  There was a long pause on the other end, but I heard the rush of traffic, so I knew someone was there.


  “Hello,” I said again.

  “Is this Scott?” came the response from the other end. I recognized the voice immediately.

  “Mark?” I asked.

  “I’d appreciate it if you didn’t use my name on an unsecure line,” he said.

  “You used mine,” I retorted. “Are you okay?”

  “I’ve been better,” he replied. “I didn’t know who else to call who might be in the know.”

  “You could have called m—”

  “Stop!” he hissed. “No names.”

  “I was going to suggest you call mom,” I said, referring to John by his codename, Momma. “Mom always knows what to do.”

  “You’ve got a clean phone,” Mark replied quietly. “Mom’s phone is a work model.”

  Shit! Are you just being paranoid, or do we really have to worry about CIA phones being tapped?

  “Understood,” I replied as I peeked around the corner to see if my room door was still closed. “What do you want me to do?”

  “Where are you?” he asked.

  I hesitated, wondering if I would be exposing myself further by revealing even that. “I’m spending the holidays with family at the farm,” I replied with a weak cover. “The work is hard, but it’s quiet.”

  There was a long pause. “If I asked you to come pick me up, would you do it without letting Mom know until I got there?” he asked. “I’d like to surprise her…you know how she always goes out of her way to prepare for visitors.”

  Son of a bitch, I thought. “I have no wheels, man—and Mom’s got a babysitter here.”

  “Who? Spartan?” he asked.

  “No…that guy who taught Bruce Lee how to fight.”

  “Shit,” Mark muttered, clearly catching my meaning that Kobe was there as well.

  “Are you safe and dry where you are?” I asked.

  “For the moment.”

  “Hang tight,” I said peeking around the corner again. “It may be a while, but I’ll find a way to get to you.”

  “I’m guessing I don’t have to tell you how to find me,” he said. “Pay phone.”

  “No problem,” I replied. “I’ll get to you as soon as I can. Keep your eyes peeled for me.”

  “Thank you,” he said after a considerable pause.

  “Don’t thank me yet,” I replied just as I heard my door open. I quickly ended the connection and stuffed the phone into the folds of my clothes before dashing back to the shower.

  “Were you talking to someone?” I heard Penny call from the doorway.

  I poked my head around the curtain. “Just singing,” I replied with a grin.

  She looked at the floor and my wet footprints across the tile.

  “Can you hand me my shave kit?” I asked. “I was on my way over to get it when I heard you come out of my room.”

  She walked to the sink, pausing over it for a second, before grabbing my kit and bringing it to me. She handed it through the curtain before leaning against the shower divider wall next to me.

  “Bashful?” she asked with a grin.

  I winked at her before closing the curtain. I listened for her feet moving toward the door.

  “Hey,” I said before they faded completely, sticking my head back through the curtain. “Could we go into town and get something to eat? I’m a little tired of cold mess hall food.”

  She squinted her eyes at me for a moment. “You’re confined to base,” she said.

  “Come on,” I replied with doubtful disappointment on my face. “A couple hours off base would do us both some good.”

  After a moment of reflection, she nodded. “Beer and pizza?”

  “Perfect,” I replied.

  She nodded with a sly smile and left. I finished getting ready, laying out a plan to get to Mark Gaines. Somehow, I had to get to him without exposing me or him.

  Then what? I wondered. Who can I trust if I can’t even trust the secure phone lines?

  **

  9:15 p.m. (a short time later)—Giovanni’s Pizzeria, Williamsburg, Virginia

  “So why are you such a quiet boy around camp?” Penny asked. “Almost half the cycle is female this time around.”

  “I socialize,” I replied defensively, wondering what she was getting at.

  “Come on,” she said with disbelief. “Out of twenty some odd women in camp and more over at Peary, all you do is socialize?”

  I shrugged.

  “I’ve seen you hanging out with Leyla—is something going on there?”

  I shook my head. “I think Leyla has eyes for Maria.”

  Penny laughed. “I’ve seen how Maria looks at you…Leyla might have some competition.”

  “I thought I was here to learn,” I replied dismissively. “I didn’t know I’d be graded on my dating prowess.”

  “Always,” she replied with a wink.

  “Then I’ll be sure to double my efforts.”

  “Mmmm,” she purred suspiciously, one eye closed to a slit. “Promises, promises.”

  I tried to get a read on her microexpressions. Though I had been plying her with beer for better than an hour, I couldn’t believe she was that inebriated yet. But she was slurring her words, leaning heavily on her arms, and had shown a lack of coordination when going to and coming from the ladies’ room—plus, I wasn’t getting anything from her microexpressions except that she was tired.

  I looked out the window of the restaurant toward the buildings across the street. Colonial Williamsburg had been a flurry of activity all evening with the Christmas Eve candlelight tours. The bulk of the tours were beginning to wind down. I was certain that was why the restaurant was still open, waiting to catch the strays as they crossed out of the time machine and back into the present.

  I looked at Penny, who appeared to be drifting, her chin on her hand and leaning heavily against the table.

  “I’ll be right back,” I said as I stood and walked toward the restrooms. I barely got a drunken smile from her as I left. On my way into the back, I stole a grease pencil from the counter and secreted it away into my sleeve.

  As soon as the door closed, I locked it and began writing my message on the mirror: “Had to run an errand. See you back at school.”

  I dropped the grease pencil on the sink and proceeded to climb out of the narrow window above the toilet. If I were lucky, I’d get a five or ten minute head start on what would most assuredly be a search by Penny…perhaps others.

  I walked casually to the edge of the block before looking over my shoulder to make sure I was still clear. Satisfied, I turned the corner and began to run. As I went, I pulled my phone from my pocket and began a search for the pay phone number that Gaines had called me from.

  “Ashland?!” I complained. “Jesus, Mark.”

  I’d need transportation. After turning away from the pizzeria several more times, I began looking for prospects…and a jacket. The Christmas Eve weather was warmer than usual, but it was still quite chilly to be outside with just a long-sleeved T-shirt—and I had left my coat on the back of my chair in the restaurant to avoid raising suspicion.

  I found what I was looking for tucked into a side street: a small used-car dealership. The sign on the door read, “Closed Saturday and Sunday for Christmas.”

  Perfect.

  I pulled the wiper off one of the cars to use as a makeshift Slim Jim when a thought occurred to me. I went around to the side door and looked through the window. A smile slipped across my face as I recognized the style of alarm system. I looked around on the ground and located a piece of stiff wire illuminated by the streetlight. After picking the lock on the deadbolt, I rushed in and pulled the cover from the alarm panel. My fingers went right to the two wires I needed to pull, silencing the beeping from the box and doing so without setting off the alarm.

  “Thanks, Penny,” I muttered in quiet gratitude to my silent entry instructor.

  On the wall next to the desk was a small metal box. I quickly picked the lock on it before looking at the selection of keys
for the cars in the lot. I picked a newer-model Toyota that would not stand out on the road. If I could, I would locate a car of the same make and steal a license plate. Until then, the dealer plates would have to do.

  On the coat rack by the back door were two jackets. They were lightweight but still better than what I had on, so I grabbed the one that fit the best before I left the shop and relocked the door.

  After putting the magnetic plates on my first stolen car, I hopped in and began the hour-long drive to Ashland. The phone Mark had called from was near a RV retail outlet. The satellite view on Google showed dozens of acres of recreational vehicles, large and small. That was a good choice for Mark if he was holed up there. RV retail is slow in the winter. All he would have to do is find one tucked into a back corner of the lot, and he could live there for quite a while as long as he wasn’t obvious as he came and went.

  It was nearly midnight before I arrived at the pay phone. I was actually surprised to see one. There weren’t many left around anymore, but the gas station it sat in front of had a trailer park behind it, so perhaps the heavy usage justified the expense. I parked in the lot and flashed my headlights twice before turning them off.

  Within moments, I saw movement in the RV lot across the street. I got out of the car and ran over as soon as it was clear he was having difficulty getting over the chain-link fence.

  “Hey,” I hissed as I approached.

  He looked up and collapsed on his butt, waiting for me to come over and help him. As I got closer, I started to worry again; he looked like shit. His face was pale and there was a dark bloodstain near the bottom of his otherwise clean Oxford.

  “How’s it going?” I asked as I landed next to him and slipped my arm under his to help him up.

  “I’ve been better,” he muttered.

  The heat coming from him told me he had a high fever. I helped him get up to the top of the fence, and then scrambled over and around him to stop his fall on the other side. He grunted with pain as he hit the ground and doubled over, despite my assistance.

  “Come on,” I said, helping him across the street. “Let’s get you lying down.”