Steel Force

by Geoffrey Saign

  Alvarez’s threat ate away at him and worry for Carol sent his thoughts spinning. He struggled to keep his eyes open. Sweat poured over his skin and he nearly fainted.

  He picked up a stick and rubbed it between his fingers. Thoughts whirled in his mind until he concluded there was only one solution. He would have to kill Alvarez to protect Carol and the friar. He couldn’t worry about Alvarez’s threat—the drug lord would come after him anyway if he let him live.

  His decision didn’t bother him as much as he felt it should have. Maybe he just wanted an easy way out, though it seemed justified.

  “We’re not all leaving here, are we?” asked Alvarez.

  Steel stared at him. “Don’t worry about it.”

  “You’re a coward.”

  Marita’s eyes widened.

  “Se ha terminado,” said Alvarez.

  Steel said nothing as he repositioned the man’s gag. But Alvarez was right. It was finished. He sat down again, his head resting against the tree trunk. Alvarez and Marita stared at him. The forest’s humid air lulled his eyelids shut repeatedly.

  He shook himself alert and finally decided it was time. Deep shadows filled the rainforest. Drawing his knife, he cut Alvarez’s and Marita’s bonds.

  Alvarez rose, nodding to him. “Good choice, amigo.”

  Thinking of the soldiers Alvarez had killed, Steel swung the stock of the AK-47 at the man’s head. Alvarez fell to the ground and Steel stomped one of his knees. Alvarez crawled away, slowly rising to his feet, barely able to limp away.

  Marita stood with her back to the trunk, her face drawn and her arms trembling as she watched.

  With his finger on the trigger, Steel stood in front of her. Shadows covered her face. She pressed herself against the tree, her eyes wide. If she wasn’t the informant and he brought her back, she could betray him later to the cartel. He wondered who else besides Gustavo had his name. He needed to question her more.

  “I’m innocent.” Her voice wavered.

  “Can you prove it?”

  “How?”

  Noises came from nearby. Alvarez.

  “Wait here,” he said gruffly.

  “Will you take me with you?”

  “I want to talk to you first.”

  He pulled the gun down and lurched to the right, following the sounds.

  Hunting.

  ***

  At midnight a lone rope ladder dropped down to him. He grabbed it and an automatic winch hauled him up in the light rain that was falling. His wide eyes mirrored the copilot’s. Crawling into the back of the otherwise empty Black Hawk, he sat with his head in his hands.

  Guilt filled him over Marita, but there was nothing he could do. He didn’t say a single word to anyone until much later.

  CHAPTER 49

  Serpent: debriefing

  The other four men stared at Steel, while he looked at his fingers, the clock on the wall, the grain of wood on the table, and their clothing. Anything but their eyes.

  He wore khaki trousers, a tan shirt, and brown loafers. His shoulder was sore, and his side, calf, and arm were bandaged. Due to his wounds and the tension in the room, he sat stiffly.

  Generals Morris and Sorenson sat at the other end of the oval table, Major Flaut and Colonel Danker on either side of them. The generals and Danker wore uniforms. Flaut was less formal with a black, short-sleeved cotton shirt, trousers, and wingtips.

  Morris was tall and slender, with ebony skin, graying hair, and glasses. Sorenson looked like a ghost of a man, weary and worn out.

  They were in a conference room in the Pentagon.

  “You’re saying the landing area was secure.” Danker stared at Steel.

  Steel’s throat tightened. “I observed no hostiles. But when the Black Hawks arrived they must have seen Alvarez’s men on infrared. By then it was too late.”

  “And you ran.” Danker shook his head.

  Steel glared at him. “There were too many to fight.”

  “Go on,” said Morris.

  “I ran east.”

  Danker waved a hand with a flourish. “You were surrounded by a small army of men and yet you escaped. Is that right?”

  Steel kept his voice level as he described his run through the woods and his capture of Alvarez. Only Flaut interrupted him a number of times to clarify the methods he used in fighting and escape.

  “Alvarez described in detail how the DEA agent was tortured and killed,” said Steel.

  “How?” Flaut leaned forward.

  Steel repeated Alvarez’s story.

  Flaut’s eyes flickered and he sat back in silence.

  Steel continued the story up to the second Black Hawk pickup.

  “You say Alvarez came at you with a knife?” asked Sorenson.

  He nodded. “It was hidden in his boot, a small shiv. A few hours before exfil I needed to stop for sleep. Alvarez cut Marita free and came at me with the knife. I shot Alvarez, and Marita ran off into the jungle. It was dark and I didn’t have time to follow her.”

  “You know absolutely nothing about how the Op was compromised?” asked Sorenson.

  He shook his head. “Does CIA or DEA have any clues?”

  “You’re sure you weren’t observed before the Black Hawk was shot down?” asked Morris.

  Steel grimaced. “No. But they knew I was there. They waited for me to bait the Black Hawks.”

  Danker sat back. “You’re asking us to believe that you escaped Alvarez’s small army without a hitch, but were surprised by a seriously wounded Alvarez and forced to kill him?”

  “I went through hell because someone betrayed me. Alvarez had my name.”

  Danker scoffed. “How could he get your name on a highly classified secret mission?”

  Wondering the same thing, Steel stared at the generals.

  “You have to realize how this looks, major,” said Sorenson. “Your story verges on the incredible.”

  “It’s the truth.”

  Flaut stared at him intently.

  Steel averted his eyes and wiped his sweaty palms on his knees. “I have no reason to lie about why I had to kill Alvarez. If I could have produced him at the extraction, his presence would have validated my story.”

  “Why didn’t you bring Alvarez’s body back?” asked Flaut.

  “I didn’t think the U.S. would want to be embarrassed with the body of a man who wasn’t yet convicted of a crime, but only charged with one. That would be committing murder on foreign soil, sanctioned by the U.S.”

  “It still is,” said Flaut.

  “What’s worse, Major Steel, is that this is the second mission you’ve been on that has been compromised in some way.” Sorenson held up a hand before Steel could react. “I’m not saying you had any responsibility for what happened on the Komodo Op. Everyone was cleared on that mission. But it still is a fact.”

  “Why would I make up a story?” He couldn’t keep his voice calm. “Why wouldn’t I just say hostiles got the Black Hawk, I ran for it, and eventually made the extraction point? I could leave out all mention of Alvarez. Look at my record. I’m as loyal as any of you.” He glared at each of them in turn.

  “This isn’t a question of loyalty, but one of understanding the truth.” Danker spread his big hands. “Maybe you were spotted by Alvarez’s men and they followed you to the Black Hawk. Maybe you’re too scared to admit it and are trying to come in with a story to vindicate your sloppiness.”

  Steel ignored Danker. “Can DEA or CIA confirm that Alvarez is dead?”

  “The man is in hiding so much it might take a while to learn the truth,” said Morris.

  “I’ve told you the truth. What would I have to gain in compromising the Black Hawks?”

  “Money.” Danker swiveled on his chair. “If your wife goes for a divorce you’re going to lose you
r place. You’re in debt big time. People do lots of things for money. Maybe Alvarez got to you before the Op or during it and made you a proposition. Or maybe you approached him.”

  Steel clenched his fists on top of the table. “That’s absurd. I’d be risking my life going to an animal like Alvarez with a deal for money.”

  Silence held the room.

  Morris sighed. “Colonel Danker’s allegations do seem far-fetched, but we had to air them to see your response, to assure ourselves of our own concerns. Because otherwise we have to assume the CIA or DEA were compromised by their informant or one of their own people.”

  Morris paused. “Marita Lopez’s body was found outside the U.S. embassy in Bogotá late last night. DEA confirmed that she was their informant.”

  A ball of pain formed in Steel’s gut, which he kept off his face. “How was she killed?” he asked quietly.

  “She was tortured extensively,” said Sorenson. “She died from her wounds.”

  Keeping his eyes lowered, Steel clasped his hands together.

  “Why would Marita run away from you?” asked Flaut.

  “I don’t know.”

  “You were considering retirement before this Op, weren’t you, Major Steel?” asked Sorenson.

  “That’s right.”

  Sorenson nodded. “Maybe that would be for the best.”

  PART 4

  OP: DRAGON

  CHAPTER 50

  As Steel drove home his mood sank into the black hole that seemed to represent his life.

  The Jeep’s window had been repaired while he was away. Both windows were rolled down and he drank in the fresh air. The relief that he imagined would wash over him at this moment was nonexistent. He had left the service in disgrace, with mutual distrust.

  And he had nothing at home to return to. His only satisfaction lay in the fact that Alvarez couldn’t support terrorists or hurt Francis Sotelo.

  He parked the Jeep in the LLC shed and took the tunnel to the lower level. Cameras and sensors showed no intruders had come while he was away. The absence of a familiar voice greeting him on his return did nothing to buoy him up. He checked the upper barn level next, but found it trouble-free, like the house.

  Wanting a distraction, he turned on the VR station and put on the goggles and suit peripherals. He selected a chase, six men, and a SIG.

  The pedestrians flowed by on the sidewalk. He pointed his gun at the back of a woman. Sweat ran down his forehead. It took all his will to pull the trigger. The woman went down in a splash of blood on the pavement. People screamed, running from him in all directions.

  He turned. Across the street on the sidewalk stood six men. All drew firearms. Lowering his gun, he backed up against the building. The men moved in front of him like a firing squad, their bullets tearing into him.

  Afterward he had to go into the tank to escape. The warm water enveloped him and the darkness helped him hide from his emotions.

  ***

  Later, while sitting at the computer station, he called Larry Nerstrand. The PI answered on the first ring.

  “We got the guy and freed all of his kidnapped girls, Jack. All young. He and another man were running them out of a building in a low-rent district in L.A.”

  He clenched his jaw, fearing the worst.

  Nerstrand continued. “Rachel wasn’t among them, and I don’t think he ever took her. The police offered the creeps a deal if they talked about every one of their girls, and they did. The guy I followed, who brought them in, never picked up anyone in Virginia. Didn’t even know where your area of the state was. His partner didn’t recognize Rachel’s photo. They both passed lie detector tests.”

  Nerstrand paused. “I’m sorry, Jack. If you want a referral, I can give you one. Send me two thousand when you can.”

  “Okay, thanks, Larry.” He hung up, feeling lost. He needed air.

  Stepping out of the barn, he gazed down his driveway at the trees on his land. More leaves were falling and the trees had taken on a skeletal appearance. He wasn’t sure what he felt about living here anymore. It seemed as though he had been gone for months.

  He wondered how long he would have to worry about his security. Maybe he should move. Carol wouldn’t leave her job to go elsewhere. At one time he would have understood and agreed with that. His own career mattered that much to him once, even more than the wishes of a spouse to move. Not any longer. He understood what mattered now.

  Belatedly, he was surprised he could think about leaving without closure for Rachel.

  Another idea about MultiSec occurred to him. One last avenue to find answers. It also gave him an excuse to call Kergan—the only friend he had.

  They met on the same road. Kergan got into Steel’s Jeep.

  “Is Carol safe?” asked Steel.

  “Do I need to worry?” Kergan looked at him.

  He paused. “Can you find out if Sorenson or Morris ever participated in oversight on any of MultiSec’s weapons projects in the last decade?”

  “Talk to me, Jack.” Kergan’s eyes were steady on his.

  He hesitated, not wanting to put his friend at more risk. On the other hand, if he didn’t tell Kergan something, his friend might not know when to watch his back. “I was betrayed on the last Op.”

  “Why would Sorenson or Morris risk that?” Kergan’s eyes narrowed. “I’ve been patient, Jack, but if you want me more involved, I need to know everything.”

  Steel swallowed. What if Kergan’s life was turned upside down or he was killed? He couldn’t do that to his best friend.

  Kergan’s voice softened. “It’s my choice, Jack. It’s what friends do.”

  He took a deep breath and told him everything, from the Komodo Op to MultiSec and Torr, to Grove, Paragon, Janet Bellue, Rusack, Quenton, and the Serpent Op. Finished, he added, “After Grove was killed they threatened to kill anyone I talked to.”

  Kergan gave him a sharp look after he finished. “You should have told me sooner. Is all of this worth it?”

  “Carol won’t be safe until this is over, and neither will I.”

  “All right. Don’t talk to anyone else. No one. I’ll get what I can and I’ll call you.”

  ***

  He kept to his routines for two days. Eating healthy. Taking walks inside his property. Watching his back. And another face joined his nightmares—Marita’s, an add-on to Carol and Rachel.

  The third day the phone rang once, twice, and a third time. Steel met Kergan in the early evening. They walked this time.

  Kergan talked. “Sorenson was on the review committee for the Paragon missile project that MultiSec ran over a decade ago. Morris was never involved with any of MultiSec’s projects.”

  Steel’s fists clenched. “I’m guessing Sorenson and Torr ran the Komodo and Serpent Ops for their own agendas. And Sorenson could have betrayed me to Alvarez on the Serpent Op without Morris’ knowledge. Whatever Sorenson and Torr are hiding, it had to be why John Grove and Tom and Janet Bellue were murdered.”

  “Sorenson’s dirty,” said Kergan. “I did some checking. He has too much money for a general’s salary, but not enough to attract suspicion. My guess is he has offshore accounts too.”

  “Sorenson and Torr have to pay.” He wanted to put bullets into both of them.

  “I agree. Let me do some more checking. I have strong connections.”

  He felt hopeful with Kergan on his side. A retired four-star general had the kind of clout they would need.

  Kergan shook his keys out of his leather pouch. “Under one condition.”

  “Name it.”

  “We’re both on the line now and we have to be careful. We can’t talk to anyone about any of this until we get proof, agreed?”

  “Agreed.” He paused. “Can you ask Carol to call me?”

  He drove home, knowing Kergan was now at ri
sk. But he needed his help. More than help, he needed redemption for Grove, Janet Bellue, and Marita.

  ***

  On the fourth day, in the afternoon, the burner phone rang. Steel was watching TV on the sofa in the lower level of the barn, his fingers sweaty on the phone as he picked it up.

  “Jack?”

  The familiar voice brought him to his feet. “Carol.”

  “How are you?”

  “Things have been rough.” There was a pause. He knew she didn’t want to hear about his troubles. He lowered his head and hunched his shoulders.

  “Jack, I want to be fair to you. I know you’ve waited...”

  “What?”

  Silence. Then quietly, “I’m going to ask for a divorce.”

  He sat down. The TV faded from view and his eyes turned inward. “You don’t love me.”

  She was silent for a few moments. “I do. Just not like that anymore.”

  “Who is he?” His hand tightened on the phone.

  “It doesn’t matter, Jack. He’s not the reason I’m leaving you.” She paused. “I still want to be friends.”

  “Who is he?” he shouted.

  She hung up.

  While the TV provided medication for his numbness, he did a search on a laptop for Francis Sotelo and General Vegas. Sotelo was going to Honolulu, Hawaii for the International Environmental Summit. Generals Vegas and Rivera would remain in Mexico to campaign. A TV news report about the friar would be aired later that evening.

  He sank into the sofa and considered things. He didn’t know how long he could wait for Kergan to investigate Sorenson and Torr before he acted.

  Later he called Christie. Voice mail. He left a message. “Steel,” he said softly. “Jack Steel.”

  When she returned his call in the early evening, he was still on the sofa.

  “Steel, do you want to meet?”

  “Please.”

  CHAPTER 51

  Christie had Steel where she wanted him. Broken and needy.

  Danker had told her Steel had been forced to retire, and that on his last Op—she didn’t know what that was—he might have compromised his loyalty again. That gave her enough motivation to try to get what she could from him.