The Mason Walker Bundle 3

by Alex Howell

  David left a bit puzzled by the remark, asked, “The Armory?”

  Raina then offered, “Yeah it’s the base of operations Mason’s created in his home basement. It’s got all the resources we need to track just about anyone on the planet.”

  This was no gross exaggeration on Raina’s part either, since the powerful servers in Mason’s basement could flawlessly link up with 5 G broadband internet in order to scour the entire globe.

  David relieved to finally have some support sighed thankfully, “Perfect.”

  MOMENTS LATER, IN MASON’s ONYX, BASEMENT HQ

  Mason Walker’s basement, decked out with an endless row of monitors and other various information gathering equipment looked like a cross between the bat cave and Quantico. Mason was seated next to Kyle as he perused through massive reams of data. He was busy sliding through files displayed on a large overhead monitor so that everyone could see what it was that he was looking at.

  Marshal Oliver who was standing over Kyle’s shoulder handed him a flash drive, telling him, “Here it is Kyle. Baltimore Police just sent me the video footage direct to my flash drive. You can pull it up from here.”

  Thanks to the advent of direct wireless transfer, after a quick phone call, the info was indeed rocketed off right to Marshal’s flash drive. And once Kyle popped the drive into his own laptop, sure enough the startling security camera footage of three men forcing a terrified woman and her three children into the back of a van was on full display.

  Seeing the expression on the woman’s face as her own children were being ripped from her and tossed into the van, Raina gasped, “Oh my God… this is horrible…”

  Mason was just as disturbed at what he was seeing but trying to be as objective as possible, as he remarked, “Alright their wearing masks, and heavy camouflage. Not much detail here.”

  The video then ended on a still shot of the back of the van as it drove off. Mason then turned to Oliver and asked the obvious, “Alright—looks like we got the license plate on camera. Have they tracked it down?”

  Marshal nodded, “Yeah—I asked about that. But it’s a dead end. They were able to process the numbers on the plate but it came back as a stolen vehicle…”

  Mason prompting him to continue, asked, “And?”

  Marshal sighed, “And the van was found dumped in a back ally…the perps only used it to haul their hostages and after that got rid of it. Apparently, these guys are pretty determined to cover their trail.”

  Mason was getting frustrated, but he wasn’t going to give up as he told Kyle, “Turn on the high depth for the video.”

  As Kyle switched the feed to high definition, Mason was hoping that there might still be something to pull from the grainy surveillance rubble. Mason then had Kyle back up the video frame by frame. It was a laborious process and meticulous process, but it paid off, and right in the middle of the tape they saw something they had previously missed.

  As the woman and children were being tossed into the van, one of the men acting as a lookout, just for a split second raised his mask halfway over his head giving a clear view of his mouth, nose, and part of his eyes. Seeing as much, Mason shouted, “There! Kyle rewind it back a couple seconds and freeze the frame!”

  Kyle did so, capturing the exact moment the man had absentmindedly revealed himself to the cameras. Mason then pointed at the unmasked man and ordered, “Now zoom on that guy’s face!”

  Kyle did so and there for everyone to see was one of the perps. Kyle mused, “Not enough for basic recognition on sight, but after running it through the database we very well could get a match.” Not wanting to waste anymore time, Mason ordered, “Do it!”

  Busily sifting through the data, after a moment Kyle came across some of the old files of their previous mission against a group of Catholic extremists and remarked, “Here are the old enemies of Onyx—shut down and demolished.”

  The next file to come up was a photo of an arrested suspect by the name of Ben Walters, Kyle narrated the background info of the find, “Sex trafficking creep arrested and locked up…. Another one bites the dust.”

  Clara seated nearby, visibly shuddered at the sight of her old boyfriend turned sex trafficker, prompting Raina to tell him, “I don’t think Clara wants to see that Kyle.”

  At which Kyle—as if just then becoming cognizant of that fact—stammered, “Oh shit—that’s right. Sorry Clara.”

  Prompting Clara to concede a quiet, “That’s alright Kyle…”

  Mason seeking to get Kyle Garrison back on task, ordered, “Com on Kyle, keep going through the records, eventually there has to be a match.”

  David Trenton meanwhile, as he watched Kyle seamlessly roll through the files couldn’t help but be amazed at the quality of work that was being produced. And he acknowledged as much as he remarked, “You guys are certainly thorough in your work, I will give you that much.”

  As if speaking for the whole entire group, Kyle shrugged, “Well, what can I say—I try....”

  This prompted Raina seated nearby to playfully punch him in the shoulder as she corrected, “You mean we try—right?”

  Kyle didn’t answer and instead buried his head back into his laptop, returning to his efforts of crosschecking images of known suspects with the latest surveillance still of the current assailants in the case.

  While Kyle worked, Mason spun around and leaned back in his chair, staring up at the ceiling as if in deep thought. He then turned to David and addressed him, “You know what David? I hope you know that you came to the right place. Because what you see here today is no fluke.”

  Mason then waved his hand around the room, and explained, “All of this is the accumulation of what has been my life’s work, and I couldn’t imagine it any other way. Even if I retired, catching bad guys will no doubt remain my favorite pastime.”

  Clara who was seated on the other side of her father—a rare treat for her to be able to sit in on official Onyx business—remarked, “Yeah tell me about it. Growing up I couldn’t ever find my dad out playing golf or working on his car like other guys… Nope he was always out catching crooks.”

  Mason sighed, “Yeah…

  Managing to smile a bit at the levity, David offered, “Well whatever it is you guys are doing—you’ll just have to keep it up. Because I can see that it has paid off in spades.”

  David looking around at the meticulously kept command center, again expressed his esteem, “This is really incredible. You guys are working just like the SEALS used to—or maybe even better than that.”

  7

  Finding Leads

  The group had been pouring over their leads or lack thereof for several hours when Raina suddenly looked up from the laptop her nose was buried into, and announced, “Guys! Guys! I think I’ve found something.”

  Mason knew more than anyone else that when Raina said she found something she wasn’t usually exaggerating. They sometimes jokingly called her Radar in reference to the fact that she seemed to have fantastic instinct and an ability to zero in on a story almost immediately.

  So it was that in pure moments like this, Raina became their invaluable, intuitive “Radar” antenna.

  It was this pet name Kyle Garrison referenced as he spun around in his chair to ask, “What you got there, Radar? Is your antenna up already?”

  Raina mirthlessly laughed, “Funny Kyle.”

  All humor aside Mason Walker for one knew full well that Raina had a certain intuitive sense—that when put to use could get some rather stunning results. Even though Raina had at times chided Mason for overly relying on his “gut”—Raina herself had a killer instinct at times that could not be matched.

  Thinking as much, Mason sidled up next to her and he too inquired, “What is it Raina?”

  Raina squinted her eyes at the screen before pointing at a file she had pulled up, flatly remarked, “I think these are the suspects.”

  Mason asked, “Who are they?”

  Raina then offered, “These guys had alre
ady been put away a long, long time ago. I think by the SEALS no less.”

  It was then Mason’s turn to be surprised because as he focused on the profile of the suspects, he was shocked that he seemed to recognize a couple of them.

  It then dawned on him like a ton of bricks, “What?! I know these guys!”

  Raina looked at him and questioned, “You do?”

  Mason nodded as he answered emphatically, “Yes! Because I was the one who put them away!”

  As Mason stared at the screen, he felt as if it were just yesterday that he had stormed into a home to free the hostages that terrorists had seized. It was his first mission, and in many ways, it laid the groundwork for all of his further efforts both in the SEALS and in the group of private contractors he was currently a part of in Onyx.

  It was the kind of mission that he always took great pride in. He loved the idea of being given nearly impossible tasks; helping the helpless, and snatching victory from the jaws of defeat. That’s what the SEALS were all about—when there wasn’t a way, it was the SEALS that made a way.

  A diplomat’s family had been cruelly held prisoner by ruthless thugs demanding an exorbitant amount of cash for their freedom. In such situations, even while the supposed negotiations were in process, the SEALS served as the ace up the government’s sleeve to upend the terrorists’ devious agenda without giving them a single dime.

  It is also for this very reason that so many terror groups hold the SEALS and other special forces with the utmost contempt. They are their constant foil—their great antagonist that can drop in on them and catch them unaware in the middle of the night. It was the SEALS after all, that nabbed the terror King of the early 21st Century—Osama Bin Laden by dropping just a few men right in the middle of the heavily fortified and guarded compound he was hiding out in.

  Outnumbered and overwhelmed, the SEALs knew how to go in, accomplish their directive, and get the hell out. Mathew’s comrade in arms had earned the nickname of “Ghost” because he was so good at slipping in and out of dangerous spots while leaving the enemy completely oblivious.

  Mathew Benton too, had been present during Mason’s first mission with the SEALS all those years ago. Wanting to get his opinion on the matter, Mason called him over, “Hey Benton—you remember that deal, right? The hostage situation with the diplomat’s family?”

  Benton walked over, “What’s that?”

  It took a minute to jar his memory, but as he stared at the screen his recollection came flooding back. His mouth dropped open as he muttered, “Oh shit… Yeah, I remember this.”

  Benton was the more experienced soldier at the time, and while Mason and the others stormed into the home, it was he who took up a position on the front porch to make sure sudden reinforcements didn’t catch the group inside off guard.

  Unbeknownst to Benton however, even while he was keeping a lookout, a sniper holed up in the attic had him in his sights. He most likely would have been dead if it wasn’t for the fact that right when the sniper was getting ready to pull the trigger the whole house was rocked by an explosion. This caused the sniper to slip and shoot Benton in the shoulder rather than the heart.

  Still staring at the screen Benton acknowledged, “Yeah… If I ever had a mission go completely FUBAR—that was probably it.” After a pause he added, “But we were able to recoup in the end. The hostages were saved and the terrorists were arrested—that’s all that matters in the end.”

  Agreeing with Benton, Mason replied, “Yeah…. I saw these guys put away. I figured they would be behind bars for a long time—how are they out?”

  Spinning around in his chair to face them, it was Kyle who piped in, “All courtesy of new legislation from the Verne Landers administration and their efforts of criminal reform.”

  President Verne Landers, the current leader of the more liberal form of government that ruled DC, had been elected a few years prior. Although Verne wished to appear tough on terrorism and associated criminal acts of terror, making big shows of shutting down terror cells and other enterprises of violent crime, the legislation that he and his cronies crafted behind the scenes had created a revolving door that made it much easier for lower level offenders to get back out on the street.

  Marshal Oliver who had been quietly sitting on the other side of the room, took umbrage with the approach of Verne Landers just about 99% of the time. And in this instance, he made his displeasure known as he remarked, “Kyle’s right about that…If he deems their offenses minor enough, Landers has no problem at all with letting hardened terrorists back out onto the street.

  Mason couldn’t believe what he was hearing, and as he continued to stare at the perp’s mugshots plastered across the computer screen, he bellowed, “But these guys?! After what they did?”

  Marshal nodded, “I’m afraid so, kidnapping and aggravated assault just doesn’t carry the sentence that it used to.”

  Kyle pulling up records on his laptop, quickly skimmed through some of the finer details of the case, as he confirmed, “According to what I’m seeing in the archives they got out in just 18 years.”

  Squinting at the screen to make sure that she wasn’t missing anything, Raina confirmed, “Yeah... it seems since no murder was involved, they were able to get a lighter sentence on just the kidnapping and assault charges.”

  Shaking his head, Marshal hissed, “Shit... I never thought I would say it, but I wish we still had President Morgan… At least these jerks wouldn’t have gotten out under his watch.

  Marshal was of course referring to the former U.S. president before Verne Landers took office. But all politics aside, the man that understood the implications of the revolving door that had been created for these terrorists was David Trenton. His whole family was kidnapped, tortured, due to a minor technicality in their sentence that allowed them to get out early enough to get their revenge.

  David seated next to Marshal Oliver quietly muttered, “And I’m sure they were model prisoners while they were locked up… But they were just biding their time…

  Mason becoming infuriated at what he was hearing, practically howled, “What’s wrong with the freaking parole boards? After being released, did they really expect these creeps just to drop their ideology and go on their merry way? After what they pulled?”

  As the rest of the group came and huddled around the monitor Mason had finally connected the dots. Despite the façade of these terrorists turning over a new leaf, reform was not on these ex-convicts’ agenda.

  Instead of reform they were out for plain and simple revenge. David realized as much as well, and as if he himself had been convicted by sudden revelation, he shouted “Mason—if these are the guys you bagged decades ago, then they are going to be coming after you too!”

  Mason shook his head in stunned acknowledgement, “Shit… You are right…”

  Staring off into space in deep thought, Mason then asked, “My only question is—why did they take so long?”

  After a moment, David offered, “They’re probably saving you for last.”

  Mason seeing the worried expression on Clara’s face wished that she hadn’t been privy to this conversation but knowing it was too late, he told her, “Don’t worry Clara we’ll get these guys. Everything is going to be alright.”

  And with that vote of confidence, not knowing what else to do, Clara Walker quietly replied, “Okay…”

  8

  Getting a Grip

  EARLY THE NEXT MORNING, MASON’S HOME IN BALTIMORE MARYLAND.

  Like a man obsessed Mason remained in the basement after everyone else had left. Not only was he researching the case but he was also obsessively keeping a watch on both the camera in the room where Clara slept, as well as the upstairs bedroom where Raina slumbered.

  He didn’t want to sleep while people threatening his family were lurking and on the loose. He had to stay vigilant. Or at least he told himself as much as he poured himself another cup of coffee. Sitting down at his desk, he sat his coffee down in front of him
and began looking through the latest files once again.

  He took another sip of coffee as he squinted his eyes. Setting the coffee down he leaned back in his chair as he read the headline from two decades prior that highlighted his rescue of a man’s family. He wasn’t just any man he was James Kerry. Kerry was a former candidate for president and a current secretary of state at the time of the rescue.

  It was this diplomat who had pleaded for him to save his wife and children. Mason stared at the old newsprint that described the operation, and before he realized it, his head had slumped further back into the chair, his eyes had closed, and he was fast asleep.

  His mind drifted off into dreamland the next thing Mason knew he was reliving the event. As is the case with most of us when we sleep, Mason didn’t realize he was dreaming at the time, and this experience his mind had routinely relived, in that moment seemed fresh and as if it was happening in real time.

  He was poised and ready outside a compound in the middle of the desert. But this wasn’t the desert sands of Iraq or some other forlorn Middle Eastern location, it was the desert surrounding a housing addition near Modesto, California. The terrorists had broken in and were holding the family hostage in their own home, demanding a large ransom.

  They had explicitly demanded that the diplomat, James Kerry not contact the authorities or anyone else, and simply pay up in order to get his family back. Kerry was stalling them however, while he created a plan with the SEALS to rescue his loved ones. It was on the behalf of Kerry that Mason found himself standing outside the door of the home with a group of SEALS.

  The man to his immediate left was David Trenton. He and Trenton had devised a plan. It was to be a classic SEAL takedown; David would separate with a few seals and go through the back door while Mason and a couple other men stormed through the front. As they crouched down low and—hopefully out of sight—David gave Mason the “okay” signal and as planned quickly led his group behind the house.