Wolfe Trap

by S L Shelton

  “We aren’t safe yet,” I replied, urging her toward the armory.

  As we met up with the rest of the group, Nick had a phone to his ear, punching in numbers on the electronic keypad for the armory. When it clacked open, he motioned for everyone to go in.

  “We’re in,” he said. “We’ll grab radios to coordinate with the incoming support.”

  As he hung up, I checked my phone as well… I finally had one bar of signal.

  “For a minute there, I thought you were still in that chopper when it blew,” Nick said, pushing me into the armory.

  “I couldn’t let you get in hot water with John, now could I?” I asked as I handed his SIG Sauer back to him before procuring a new Glock and ammunition for myself.

  “Hurry up and grab what you need,” Nick said to everyone. “All we have are a handful of SEALs to back us up right now.”

  “And the gunships,” I muttered.

  I looked up through the open vault door and saw someone running toward us. As he got closer, I realized it was Bailey.

  “Why aren’t you with the wounded?” Nick asked as Bailey bounded into the armory, breathless.

  “I heard the fighting and wanted to join in,” he replied as he skidded to a halt, but I saw anxiety flit across his face when he spotted me.

  Nick had already moved away from me before I could nudge him to bring it to his attention. I quickly loaded one magazine with nine-millimeter rounds and slapped it into the Glock before following Nick outside, tucking a box of ammunition into my cargo pocket.

  “Let’s go link up with Arrow and see if there are any other troops coming in,” Nick said as he ran between buildings, draping the wire to his newly acquired headset across his neck. I watched Bailey out of the corner of my eye as we jogged toward the field.

  “Hey,” Bailey said to Nick. “Why don’t I grab a couple students and have them guard the armory? It’s a juicy target.”

  Nick nodded absently and motioned his acknowledgment with the wave of his hand.

  “Come on, Scott,” Bailey said with a false smile. “Let’s grab someone and set up security.”

  I decided to play along, but as we turned, Nick looked over his shoulder and stopped. “No,” Nick said firmly, walking back to us. “Scott’s coming with me.”

  That’s when the flicker of suspicion washed over Nick’s features. Bailey put his hand up, deferring to Nick’s demand.

  “Okay,” he said after the others had rounded the building, leaving just the three of us. “I just wanted to—”

  Bailey pulled his weapon and aimed it at Nick’s chest. Like a bolt of lightning, I smashed my palm into Bailey’s forearm and pulled the weapon back with my other hand, bending his wrist sharply until it snapped. He dropped to the ground screaming as Nick leaned in and smashed him in the face with a solid punch. I released him to fall to the dirt.

  “That’s our inside guy,” I said, standing over him as Nick shook his hand.

  “He may not be the only one,” Nick muttered, still looking down at him.

  “How many sworn officers of the CIA do you think were turned by these guys?” I asked.

  “Oh, I don’t know,” Nick said sarcastically. “They managed to turn the second-in-command at the embassy in the Hague.”

  “Good point,” I muttered. “What do we do with him?”

  “Wrap him up,” Nick replied as he grabbed Bailey by the legs and began dragging him to the armory. “We’ll put him in an empty weapons cage.”

  I nodded and grabbed him under the arms. “Why do I get the heavy end?”

  “You’re the one who took out their secret weapon,” Nick replied with a grin.

  “For the record…you did that,” I retorted, echoing his earlier comment.

  “Nah. I just shot him,” he conceded quietly. “You had already beat his ass when I showed up.”

  After binding Bailey securely and stowing him in an empty weapons locker, we ran to rejoin the rest of the group.

  Seifert was there, talking with Penny Rhodes.

  “What’s the scoop?” Nick asked as we ran up to them.

  “The last helo beat feet when the gunships showed up,” Seifert said. “We’ve got seven on the ground and twenty inbound, but as far as the bad guys go, we’ve got nothing but bodies so far. The LT is sweeping the woods back toward the Farm with the rest of the guys. I’m supposed to secure Monkey Wrench. Hey, Monkey Wrench.”

  “Majesty,” I said as he turned our handshake into a bro hug.

  “Greg Bailey is in the armory,” Nick said. “He drew on me trying to separate Scott from the rest of us.”

  Penny’s expression turned to one of shock. “Bailey?” she said. “I’ve known him for years… Unbelievable.”

  “We’ll leave him to internal security,” Seifert said. “I’ve got orders to bring Monkey Wrench off the post.”

  “Orders from who?” Nick asked, but Seifert waved him off, pushing his earpiece with his finger to hear something.

  “Roger, Papa. Monkey Wrench is secure,” Seifert said into his throat mic.

  “Acknowledged,” he said after a beat or two. “Oscar Mike to you as soon as transport arrives.”

  “Where am I going?” I asked.

  “Don’t ask me,” Seifert replied. “I’m just supposed to make sure you get on and stay on that Black Hawk.”

  He pointed at the tree line as a Black Hawk, escorted by the two gunships, approached our end of the parade grounds.

  “Tell Arrow I’m heading out to meet up with him at camp,” Nick said as he turned, but Seifert put a big hand out and grabbed him by the collar.

  “You’re supposed to go with us,” Seifert said. “Orders.”

  Nick pressed his lips together in agitation but nodded before we jogged toward the landing Black Hawk. Once aboard, we took off, banking sharply into the dark, early morning sky. The vertigo created by the lack of visual cues during the ascent was uncomfortable, but it settled as soon as the streetlights came into view and I was able to get my bearings.

  “You got your travel ID?” Nick asked, leaning over and raising his voice above the noise of the helicopter.

  “Yeah,” I replied, patting my canvas bag, which was still hanging from my shoulder.

  “You might not get a chance to close any loops before you get shipped out,” he said.

  “Where am I going?” I asked.

  He shrugged. “Not sure. But I can promise as important as you’ve become to this investigation, Burgess is going to want to stash you somewhere.”

  “To hell with that,” I said. “I haven’t even finished my training. I need to be out there finding the trail on these accounts.”

  “Trust me,” he said, patting me on the shoulder. “You’re trained. But don’t get your panties in a bunch. I didn’t say you’d be on lockdown…just gone.”

  I nodded, still trying to swallow some of my agitation. I leaned forward and tapped the crew chief on the shoulder. “Where are we headed?” I asked.

  He pulled his boom mic away from his face. “Pentagon,” he replied.

  Nick leaned forward. “Did I hear you say we’re going to the Pentagon?”

  The crew chief nodded. Nick sat back and hit me in the arm. “You got a change of clothes in that bag?”

  I shook my head. “Why?”

  He just shook his head and smiled.

  “What?”

  “Nothing,” he replied. “See if you can catch some sleep.”

  As ridiculous as that sounded, I sat back and closed my eyes. Within moments, I was asleep.

  I woke as we were touching down. Nick and I got out and we were ushered to a black SUV by a man in a black suit. Seifert waved at us from the open door of the Black Hawk as it took off again.

  “We need a change of clothes,” Nick said to the man in the black suit who opened the rear door of the vehicle for us.

  “No time, sir,” he said rigidly but with sincere apology in his voice. “They know what you’re coming from. There’ll b
e no judgment. I promise.”

  Nick looked disappointed but nodded acknowledgment as we got in. As soon as the door closed, we were speeding away.

  “Do either of you have weapons on you?” the black suit asked.

  Nick immediately reached under his jacket and withdrew his SIG Sauer, followed by the two spare magazines. I followed his lead and did the same, clearing the chamber before handing over my Glock.

  “You’ll get these back,” Black Suit said.

  I nodded, though I was confused. It seemed like we were traveling for a very long time, though I couldn’t see out of the windows. The divider to the front was opaque, so I couldn’t see through the windshield either.

  It took a minute for me to realize we weren’t going to the Pentagon; that had apparently just been our drop off point.

  “Wha—?” I began, but Nick hit me in the arm.

  “Mouth shut, eyes forward,” he said. “No talking unless you’re spoken to.”

  The black suit next to me smiled but pressed his lips together to keep from chuckling. When we finally stopped and the door opened, we were in a covered, semi-submerged portico, several feet below ground level. I could hear traffic on the other side of the structure, but still couldn’t figure out where I was.

  The SUV sped off as soon as we were out and had closed the door.

  “This way, sir,” Black Suit said, opening the door for us.

  The hallway of the partially submerged basement entrance reminded me of a delivery dock at a grocery store. Empty carts, hand trucks, and pallet jacks neatly lined the walls in the concrete-floored, cinderblock hallway. We passed through a kitchen area and then through a double-hinged door into a very fancy hallway…it reminded me of the Watergate Hotel or the Hay Adams.

  “Are we in a hotel?” I asked as I looked around the wide, well-appointed corridor.

  Black Suit couldn’t hold back his chuckle that time as he opened one of the doors in the hallway and ushered us in. “Director Burgess will be in momentarily,” he said before closing the door.

  “Dude,” I said to Nick. “Where the hell are we?”

  Just then, Director Burgess walked in and stepped toward me. “You are in the White House,” he said, smiling broadly. He shook my hand as my head began to float. It felt like all the blood dropped to my feet.

  “Whoa there, son,” Burgess said, guiding me to a seat. “Don’t fall over.”

  He looked at Nick. “Has he been injured?”

  Nick was doing the best he could to suppress his laughter. “No, sir,” he replied. “Just a little overexcited from the action, I think.”

  “I’ll need the highlights before I go back in,” Burgess said to Nick. “I’ve only got a few minutes, so anything new would be helpful.”

  I barely heard their conversation, still dazed by the fact that I was sitting in the White House.

  “Scott?” Nick said, shaking me out of thoughts—I had been obsessing over the blood and dirt on my clothing. “The asset…Director Burgess needs your assessment.”

  “Yes,” I replied, fumbling for words. “Of course. Highly skilled fighter. He took hits and delivered punches that the average man wouldn’t have been able to. He disabled Kobe in a matter of seconds.”

  Burgess’s eyebrows arched high. “Any INTEL on his origins?”

  “Not really,” I said and then thought of the radio conversation between him and the giant.

  “Oh…it seemed that the person in charge was the giant we ran across in Syria,” I added. “He responded to the name ‘Harbinger’ over the radio. I don’t know if that was a code name or what.”

  “The same guy?” Burgess asked.

  “Well, I didn’t see him this time, but it sure as sh—sure sounded like him. He has a really distinct voice,” I replied. “And he called the asset ‘Jagger’.”

  Suddenly, Burgess looked like he was going to faint. The color left his face.

  “Is that important?” I asked.

  “Are you sure he said ‘Jagger’?”

  “Yes, sir,” I replied confidently. “But I don’t think it was a code name for an individual…while we were fighting, he made the comment that I wasn’t a Jagger and wanted to know what I was.”

  The tone in my ear flared suddenly. Too much information! my other voice yelled into my ear, making me flinch and sending a dagger of pain into the base of my skull.

  Director Burgess was reaching for a chair to lower himself into, and he apparently didn’t notice my momentary migraine reaction.

  “What’s wrong, sir?” Nick asked.

  Burgess looked up at him. “Nick, I need you to go into the hallway for a minute,” he said.

  Nick looked confused but nodded and exited without another word.

  “Scott, I need you to think about anything else that you might have noticed about your encounter with this ‘asset’,” he said, looking very worried. “Anything at all that might help us tie things together.”

  I raised my hands as if showing they were empty. “He was a good fighter…the best one I’ve ever come up against. His first priority was capturing me, not killing me. He didn’t resort to using a firearm at first, so the fact that he was fighting hand-to-hand when he had a weapon on him made that pretty obvious. Harbinger called him ‘Jagger’,” I replied, giving the inventory of what I knew while omitting what Wolf considered to be too much information. “I can’t think of anything else. Why?”

  Burgess looked down for a moment as if he were making a hard decision about something before looking me in the eye. “You killed him?” Burgess asked me very quietly.

  “No, sir,” I replied with the control of a stone—I knew now what was bothering him. “Nick shot him in the head.”

  A look of relief flooded his features. You know what a Jagger is, and you were wondering how I could have beaten him. I watched as heavy concentration swept over his features and he turned his head slightly as if he was trying to remember some elusive detail.

  What do you know about this? I thought, evaluating. Me mentioning him was completely out of context, but Jagger is something you were already aware of. Clearly enhanced…SHIT! It’s a government program, and you know about it!

  Just then, the door opened from an adjoining room and in walked someone I recognized immediately—the President of the United States. I stood so fast, I made myself dizzy again.

  “Matt, we’re going to push the meeting out a few minutes,” the president said. “I want to make sure I have a list of all the names of the CIA trainees before word leaks out. I want to make the calls to the families myself once we have our cover story sewn up.”

  “Of course, Mr. President,” Burgess replied, standing uneasily from his chair.

  “Is this one of the students who survived?” POTUS asked.

  “In a manner of speaking,” Burgess replied. “He’s actually been active in the investigation from the beginning.”

  He smiled his famous smile and reached out to shake my hand. “You’re a little young to be an operative,” he said. “How long have you been with the Agency?”

  “Mr. President, this is Scott Wolfe,” Burgess said. “He’s the young man who rescued the State Department personnel in the Czech Republic in May.”

  “Ah, I’ve heard of you,” POTUS said. “Good work. I’m glad you decided to join up. We need good men who can get things done in a pinch.”

  “Thank you, sir, uh, Mr. President,” I replied clumsily.

  “I’m sorry you lost so many people tonight, Matt,” the President said, shifting his attention back to the Director. “Hopefully we’ll be able to make the connection and get the AG on those indictments.”

  “Yes, sir,” Burgess replied solemnly.

  “Thirty minutes,” POTUS said.

  “Sir?”

  “We’re pushing the meeting back thirty minutes,” he repeated.

  “Of course. Thank you, Mr. President.”

  “It was good to meet you, Scott,” he said, without even giving me a once o
ver due to my appearance. Though I had been close to him during one of his campaign rallies when he was still just a senator, the impact of shaking hands with him moved me.

  As he left, Burgess put his hand on my shoulder and leaned over to whisper in my ear. “You are to speak to no one else about this ‘Jagger’ or his abilities,” he said quietly. “I’m afraid I’ve exposed you to more than we had planned with this little ‘Wolfe Trap.’ Hopefully it’s not too late to do something about it.”

  “Yes, sir,” I replied, though now I was more confused than I had been before.

  He opened the door a crack and called to Nick before turning back to me. “We’re getting you out of here,” he said.

  “Yes, sir,” I replied, with obvious disappointment in my voice.

  “Nick says you’re trained,” Burgess replied as Nick came in and closed the door. “Raise your right hand.”

  A wave of heat washed over my face as I lifted my hand. Though I was wide awake, it felt as though my hand floated up, weightless as if in a dream. And then I spoke the words in a basement meeting room of the White House.

  It was surreal.

  “I, Scott Lawson Wolfe, do solemnly swear and affirm that I will support and defend the Constitution of the United States against all enemies, foreign and domestic; that I will bear true faith and allegiance to the same; that I take this obligation freely, without any mental reservation or purpose of evasion; and that I will well and faithfully discharge the duties of the office on which I am about to enter.”

  “Welcome aboard, Scott,” Burgess said, shaking my hand. “I know John would have wanted to be here for this. As soon as he’s awake, I’ll make sure he knows how well you’ve done.”

  “Thank you, sir.”

  “Nick,” Burgess said, turning. “There will be a jet sitting on the tarmac at Andrews. See that Scott is on it within the hour. He can pick up anything he needs when he reaches his destination.”

  “Yes, sir,” Nick replied. “What’s the destination?”

  “That’s going to be up to Scott,” Burgess replied, drawing a confused expression from Nick. “I want him to disappear and continue this investigation. I think he would be safer if no one knows where he’s going… That’s what John had planned already.”