Steel Force

by Geoffrey Saign

  His brain told him the phone rang, but his ears heard nothing. Then it returned. Two rings. Silence. He swung his legs out of bed as the burner phone rang again. Three rings. He picked it up. Silence. He hung up and ran.

  ***

  They met on the same dirt road. This time Steel pulled up behind Kergan’s Mercedes.

  Kergan got in, and Steel pulled away.

  “How’s Carol?” Steel noted a deer not far from the road.

  “She’s upset. It’ll pass.” Kergan turned to him. “Talk to me.”

  “It’s over.” Images of Grove, Janet Bellue, Carol, and Spinner rose up before his eyes. His responsibility.

  “Are you sure?”

  “Yes.”

  “I think that’s smart.” Kergan looked at him. “You don’t look very healthy, my friend.” He glanced at the glass on the floorboard. “Neither does your Jeep.”

  “We’re alive.”

  “I’ve been asked to talk to you.”

  “Who?” His grip tightened on the wheel.

  “General Morris. He’s solid. I had a look at the Serpent Op. It’s important and straightforward. Connections to expected future terrorist acts.” Kergan paused. “They know I’m close to you and they know you trust me. They said they need you on this one.”

  “What do you think?”

  Kergan continued. “You would have a few days before it’s a go. And since you would be team leader you’ll be briefed first and can take a look at the other operatives.”

  Kergan crossed his arms and sat back. The wind ruffled his mane of gray hair. “When I got out it was the same way. One day I was in, the next it was all too much. Emotionally more than physically.” He glanced at Steel. “I understand. Do what you have to, my friend.”

  Steel drove a little farther and then turned the Jeep around. “Do you think it’s a setup?”

  “Not with Morris on board. He’s beyond reproach. Since Danker is out, they can’t do this one if you’re not on board. The target will move again soon and he’s hard to locate. They’ve got good information and it’s the first time in a year they’ve had anything specific on advanced whereabouts with him.”

  Steel felt all used up, a mattress with a hundred thousand nights of wear. Weak and limp.

  “Go to the briefing. Then decide.”

  “You’ll keep watch over Carol.”

  “My word on it. For now it’s better if you don’t know where she is. Let’s see if things really settle down.” Kergan paused. “I’ll talk to her. It’ll be all right, Jack. She still loves you.”

  “She does?”

  “I’ll get her to call you.”

  Hope filled Steel’s chest.

  Kergan’s face was taut. “I’m glad you let this go, Jack. I don’t want this violence to spill over into my life, my friends. You understand?”

  ***

  He called Christie and left a message for her.

  Then he went online and checked the local Fredericksburg news. An article discussed Janet Bellue’s murder. It mentioned the police got an anonymous phone call and responded right away. They found her already dead. It made him swallow. He had hoped he was wrong about them killing her.

  Christie called and he was glad to hear her voice.

  “How are you, Steel?”

  A rush of conflicted emotion filled his chest. “Who do you report to?” He waited, realizing he should have done this in person. This was sloppy too.

  “Do you want to meet, Steel?” Her voice was quiet, soft. “I have plans, but I can break them.”

  Her response caught him off guard. Emotion versus intellect. His voice hardened. “You didn’t answer my question.”

  “That’s because you’re being silly, Steel. You’re acting as if I’m spying on you. You did a great job of analysis. We’re through with that, but I’ll still make time for you if you want me to.”

  Maybe he had it all wrong. There were other ways the enemy could have gotten information about him and his security without using her. The idea of her ending up like Janet Bellue sent a chill down his spine.

  Gripping the arm of the couch, he said, “Look, someone tried to take Carol. She’s all right, but I don’t know who’s after me. Watch your back.”

  There was silence, and then, “I appreciate the heads-up. You have no idea why?”

  “It’s related to a mission I can’t discuss. I’ve reached a dead-end on the why.” He paused. “You don’t have any information, do you?”

  “If I did, I’d tell you.”

  “I appreciate it.”

  “You don’t sound good, Steel. Are you all right?”

  “Thanks for asking. I’ll talk to you when I can.”

  “I’m not going anywhere, Steel. Are you going somewhere?”

  “I’m not sure.”

  She sighed. “Take care, Steel.” She hung up.

  He remembered similar talks with Carol and the bitterness of her responses over the last year due to his vague answers. He wanted a private life that was open and honest, uncorrupted by work.

  Christie and Carol were both strong women. However, Christie was more invasive, more direct than Carol in some ways. He wasn’t sure why he wanted to save his marriage with Carol. Maybe nine years of emotional investment. And trust. Which at one time he believed he had with her. He missed that.

  He called Larry Nerstrand, dreading what he would hear from the PI.

  “I can’t talk, Jack. I’m following the guy. I think he’s got a stable of girls working somewhere. I’ll let you know. Hang in there.”

  “Where are you?”

  “California. I’ll call you as soon as I have something.”

  The line went dead. He dared to hope. His hands were jittery as he imagined finding Rachel alive after all this time. Holding her, talking to her… he quickly let those thoughts go, not wanting to suffer through another deep disappointment like those of the last year.

  He searched for news about General Vegas and Francis Sotelo. A religious fanatic had tried to shoot the friar at a speaking engagement, accusing him of abusing his religious duties by equating the plight of animals with humans. Sotelo escaped unhurt.

  His chest tightened over headlines about another attempt on the friar’s life in a small coastal village. A bomb had gone off at a speaking engagement. Generals Rivera and Vegas had survived it, as did Francis Sotelo. There was speculation that the drug lord Gustavo Alvarez was behind it.

  He thought about the friar, who was taking a stand against the powers that ran society to try to bring about a major shift in viewpoint for the poor and nature. The friar struck him as courageous. He wanted to help him. It gave him a feeling of impotence that he could do no more than observe.

  MultiSec had most likely tried—and perhaps was still trying—to kill this man and what he stood for with no fear of repercussions. Whoever was behind everything was no better than well-funded assassins or terrorists.

  And whoever had commandeered the Komodo Op had collaborated with or forced someone inside Blackhood Ops to go along with it. He wanted both parties dead.

  CHAPTER 42

  Serpent: briefing

  Steel focused on the details. Danker disgusted him, but he shoved that down.

  Danker pointed to a photo. “That’s Gustavo Alvarez.”

  Steel stiffened over hearing Alvarez’s name—the man thought to be targeting the friar, Francis Sotelo. He studied the image on the monitor, noting the half-moon facial scar.

  “Don’t let his size fool you.” Danker motioned. “Alvarez has killed as many men with his hands as he has with guns. He personally supervised the torture and killing of a DEA agent his men caught.”

  “How do you know that?”

  “Informant. Thing of it is, there’s no proof. Colombian judges tend to die when they have any, and on pap
er Alvarez is a law-abiding Colombian.”

  “How was the DEA agent caught?”

  “Pretended to be a buyer and they smelled him out.”

  Danker talked his way through a number of photos of Alvarez’s jungle compound, and of Alvarez’s woman, Marita Lopez.

  Danker shut off the computer and leaned back in his chair. “DEA intel is that someone hired Alvarez to kill General Vegas, one of the candidates in the Mexican election.”

  Steel wondered if the target was Vegas or the friar. It could be the general. Vegas wouldn’t be someone Alvarez could intimidate or bribe so the drug lord might have his own reasons to get rid of him.

  Danker added, “DEA also learned that after the failed attempt to kill Vegas, Alvarez was asked to kidnap the friar Francis Sotelo to force the general to withdraw from the election. However we want Alvarez for different reasons. We have intel that Alvarez is supporting terrorists with money and logistics. Maybe he’s already planned an attack. His brother was killed by a DEA agent and he wants revenge against the U.S.

  “His compound is in the Choco jungle in northwest Colombia. You would have one day to reconnoiter the place. We have to move fast.” Danker paused. “We want him alive, to get the names of his terrorist contacts here.”

  Steel didn’t see that he had a choice now. It was a chance to stop terrorists and to help the friar. If Alvarez kidnapped Francis Sotelo, the Choco hideout would be a likely place to hold him. If he hadn’t yet kidnapped the friar, capturing Alvarez would help protect the friar. “Any chance he knows we’re coming?”

  “I’ve been told none. The man has a huge ego and thinks he’s invulnerable.” Danker looked at him. “What’s your decision?”

  “Let’s go over assignments.”

  “I take it this means you’re going.”

  Steel avoided his eyes and grunted. “Let’s get started.”

  CHAPTER 43

  After two days of healing he did mild exercises in the barn. It felt good. He pushed himself just enough to keep an edge to his senses, an edge which he had lost over the last days. The following day he ran far inside the perimeter of his land, still wary. He missed running with Spinner but didn’t want to bring her home until he was sure things were safe.

  The solitary cawing of a large crow stopped him. The vocalizations changed to a chuckling caw before the bird finally flew away. Crows were as smart as chimpanzees. He wondered what the bird was saying.

  Carol called his burner phone at six p.m.

  “I’m sorry,” he said.

  “Kergan explained things.” There was a pause. “I’m still upset with you, Jack.”

  He held his breath in the long silence that followed.

  “I loved you before we lost Rachel, Jack. I’ve thought about that more and more this week, but I don’t know what it means. I don’t know what the emptiness inside me means.”

  “We both have it.” He swallowed. “We could help each other heal.” There was only silence. “Does it matter to you that I’m getting out of the Army?”

  “Kergan said you’re doing another mission.” She sounded accusatory.

  “The last one.” He realized even as he said it how many times he had promised similar things to her.

  “You told me you were done.” Her voice had an edge.

  “This is it. Kergan thought I should do it too.” He regretted using his friend’s advice like this, but he felt desperate to convince her.

  “I’m just not sure. I need more time.”

  “All right.” He couldn’t deny the surge of energy in his chest. “I love you, Carol.”

  “I love you too. Take care, Jack.”

  ***

  Several days later he drove to Langley Air Force Base to take the first of two flights which would eventually drop him into the jungles of Colombia, a hundred miles northwest of Medellin.

  Buckling himself into the seat of the Army plane, his thoughts turned to Carol. He wondered how long he could give her to make a decision. They had spent ten years together. A few more months were either worth the wait or what they had shared didn’t matter that much to begin with.

  He wanted to give their marriage every possible chance before he abandoned it. What made him swallow hard was that Carol wasn’t doing the same.

  CHAPTER 44

  Danker wondered if he would ever be able to dance again. He enjoyed waltzes and it was the easiest way he knew to meet eligible women.

  The cab stopped. Using the door to brace his body, he slid his good leg out and planted his foot. As he pulled and pushed to his feet, loud chants assaulted his ears.

  He paid the cabby and hobbled along the sidewalk with his cane. A crowd of protestors marched in front of MultiSec’s tower, one of the tallest and most expensive buildings in Manhattan. Danker smiled over that as he headed toward the demonstrators.

  They were draped in black rags and carried posters that read: MultiSec Creates Death Row; Multi Ways to Destroy; and Ban MultiSec from Defense Contracts. A husky man with short hair, wearing a brown sport coat and sunglasses, directed their chants while also handing out leaflets to passersby.

  Danker limped up beside him. “Environmental group?”

  The man nodded. “A coalition. Half a dozen organizations.” He handed him a leaflet.

  Danker glanced at it and slipped it into his briefcase.

  “We want MultiSec to clean up the dozen Superfund sites they’ve created in the last ten years,” said the man. “And we want them to stop creating more of them. They’re guilty and irresponsible.”

  Danker extended his hand, which the man shook firmly.

  “Rich Plugh. I’m the coalition’s lawyer.”

  “Colonel Danker.” He grinned. “Looks like you have a fight on your hands.”

  “I know it.”

  Danker clapped Plugh’s shoulder. “Good luck.”

  He found the floor directory inside and looked up William Torr. Forty-fifth floor. He got in the elevator and smoothed down his black hair and moustache. It took effort to keep the grin off his face.

  ***

  Torr remembered when he was a child and used to stomp on ants. From the office windows he was unable to see the demonstrators, but security had told him they were down there. Like pesky bugs. He wanted them swept away.

  No matter. They would rant and rave, the press would get a headline, and a day later the public would forget about it. He smirked. Getting press in this country no longer meant anything. News was mostly sensationalism anyway. Entertainment for the masses.

  MultiSec’s bank of lawyers would go to work tying up the molasses-slow wheels of justice until it was decades before they would have to do anything about any Superfund sites. Eventually the environmental groups might be able to claim some minor victory that the public would see in a small paragraph on an inside page. Big deal.

  By then MultiSec would find legal loopholes in responsibility with regard to any lawsuit claims against them or point to ambiguity about many Superfund sites. And since work on defense contracts had produced some of the problems, the government also held some responsibility.

  He shook his head. The environmentalists just didn’t get it. They had already lost.

  Colonel Danker was shown in.

  Torr turned and sat down. Gripping the arms of his chair, he studied Danker intently. He was surprised the colonel wore civilian clothes. Loafers, khaki slacks, and a short-sleeved tan shirt.

  When Danker had called for the appointment, Torr called General Sorenson. But Sorenson didn’t know any more than he did. Torr had told Sorenson not to interfere. He preferred that Danker keep the appointment. It was the best way to find out what the colonel wanted, and what he knew.

  Torr’s neck tightened. Danker shouldn’t even know who he was. He felt a headache coming on.

  Danker sat down. “You have a few pr
oblems out there, huh?”

  He immediately disliked Danker. Cretin. Big and oafish. The man sounded slow and stupid, his heavy brows and wide face confirming it. “What can I do for you, colonel?”

  “It’s what I can do for you that matters.” Danker smiled and gazed around the office. “It looks like MultiSec is doing well. I can ensure that its string of successes continue.”

  Torr said nothing.

  Danker leaned forward. “Aren’t you even a little interested in how I can help MultiSec?”

  Torr looked at his watch. “In two minutes I have another meeting.”

  Danker nodded and reached into his leather briefcase. He pulled out an inch-thick manila folder, which he tossed onto Torr’s desk. “It wasn’t hard to figure things out once I saw MultiSec’s name in the report. I did some research. I assumed the guy at the top would be running the show.”

  Torr went rigid, his eyes on the folder. He knew what it was. A copy of the Paragon file that Steel said he had made, which Hulm insisted didn’t exist. And Danker was the lone intruder that Hulm’s people had seen on Steel’s security system.

  His heels pressed into the floor over Hulm’s mistake—the stupid flunky. His eyes turned cold on Danker, who he now knew wasn’t as stupid as he looked. He didn’t even bother to open the folder. A sharp spike of pain struck behind his eyeballs and he squinted. “How much do you want?”

  “First let’s set some ground rules.” Danker sat back. “I know you already sent men after Steel so I have to take you seriously. I want to make sure you take me seriously too. I’ve made a dozen copies of the file and sent them all over, sealed with instructions.”

  Danker nodded at the folder. “You can keep that one. The copies will turn up in the news should you decide to take action against me. I wouldn’t advise it, or from what I’ve read in that file, MultiSec might have a few problems, don’t you think? I’m guessing one of those problems might involve jail time for you.”

  Torr returned Danker’s icy smile. “You’re interfering with some pretty big players, colonel. Do you feel safe?”

  “Do you?” Danker got up. “I want you to think on that file going public. What it’s worth to you. I’ve looked up MultiSec’s assets and they’re impressive. Billions. Lots and lots of reasons to run a clean ship. A ship that a lot of people would like to sink. Some of them right outside your window.” He winked. “Think about it. I’ll contact you in a few days. Maybe you can come up with a favor you would like from me to make it square.” He smiled again. “Whatever.”