by Kelly Utt
“Thank you,” I say simply. “I agree.”
He stays close, speaking to me informally. “And Hartmann, your boy…”
Wet tears spring to my eyes now. I’ve been doing my best to keep Ethan’s disappearance out of my mind. I’m physically so far away that there’s little I can do about it. I have to compartmentalize if I want to be effective at anything I try to accomplish.
“My father-in-law is on the case,” I say. “He’s one of the best, too. If anyone can find our boy, it’s Roderick Davies.”
Colonel Becker lowers his brow and leans back when he hears Roddy’s name. If I didn’t know better, I’d think he recognized it. That seems far fetched.
“What?” I ask. “Sir, your expression right now makes me think you know my father-in-law’s name. Do you?”
The Colonel stands up, clearing his throat. He walks to the door nervously like he’s going to leave. He carries the blueprints with him. Those blueprints presumably have information that I’ll need during the raid. I can’t let him leave, that’s for sure. I can’t let this mission get delayed again. There’s too much at stake. I sigh heavily with frustration and I slam a fist down on the bed beside me. Becker stops and stands still, staring at the closed door. He doesn’t turn back to look at me.
“Sir?” I ask.
“There are clearances involved,” Becker mutters.
“I know,” I confirm. “My father-in-law used to be British Intelligence before he left that life behind to become a New York City playwright. He hasn’t told me details about what he used to do, exactly. But he revealed that he was a field agent. Did you know him?”
Becker remains silent, one hand curled tightly into a ball at his side.
I’m reminded of my first impression of the Colonel when we met him at Nellis Air Force Base in Las Vegas a few days ago. I thought he was gruff and crusty, and that he looked more like an Army Ranger than an Air Force Officer. As I look at him now, his demeanor and mannerisms kind of remind me of Roddy’s. It seems like they’re cut from the same cloth.
Dots begin to connect in my mind. I’ve been so out of it that I can’t be sure my logic is sound anymore, but I try to piece what I know together in a way that makes sense. Could Colonel Becker know Roddy? That seems impossible. But what if it’s not? I humor myself as I work to trace the potential connections.
Camp Shorabak, formerly known as Camp Bastion, was a British Army base. If my memory serves me right, it was under British control from 2005 until 2014, when the British Army handed the reins to the Afghan Ministry of Defense. Like Colonel Becker mentioned back at Nellis when he first briefed us about the current mission, the British Operation Herrick regularly deployed the Black Hornet Nano military unmanned aerial vehicle from this base into enemy territory to collect intel. Liam and I have been here multiple times before in support of the U.K.'s Brigade Reconnaissance Force. Could Roddy have been involved with this base somehow? And with Colonel Becker? Is that why he wanted to be part of our residential surveillance business when he heard that Liam and I were planning the venture? Is Roddy connected to the world of unmanned aerial vehicles, too? I have so many questions.
To my knowledge, Roddy left British Intelligence a long time ago. Well before this base was opened in 2005. He has been prolific as a Broadway playwright since the nineties. That couldn’t possibly be a ruse. Could it? What if it was just one hell of a cover? Could he have remained connected with the intelligence community? Now that I think about it, that sounds like Roddy. If anyone could pull off such a clever cover, it’s him.
I wish I could call my father-in-law and ask him. This is unfortunate timing for him to have gone off grid.
“Tell me,” I say to Colonel Becker, my voice firm. “I think I’ve earned the right.”
“You know how this works,” Becker replies, more quickly than I expected. “Classified intelligence is shared on a need to know basis. Just because you have top secret clearance doesn’t mean you get to know everything there is.”
He turns to face me, and I notice that his eyes have softened. He feels sorry for me. Now is my chance to learn all that I can.
I chuckle, hoping to break the tension. “Please, sir. It’s not like I’m asking to see the aliens in Roswell, New Mexico.”
My tactic apparently works. Colonel Becker laughs out loud, his whole belly shaking with delight. I laugh, too. The break is what we both need to help us manage the heavy emotions we’re trading. Becker walks back to the bed and sits down beside me. It’s an unusual gesture, given the difference in our ranks, but these are desperate times. It seems like he might actually talk to me about Roddy.
“So?” I ask. “If you know something, why didn’t you mention it when you first came to tell me that he’d called? I didn’t pick up on any familiarity when you said his name then. Unless… Wait. Is that why Roddy called you directly in the first place?”
Becker sighs and looks at me. He doesn’t say anything, but his eyes tell the story. He knows Roddy. I should have figured that out the day he and Colonel Winton came to deliver the bad news. I remember Becker’s exact words: Roderick Davies phoned to notify us of a developing situation… I was in such shock that I let that slip by. No normal civilian phones the commander of a special ops team in Afghanistan to tell them anything. It just isn’t done. Roddy has a direct connection to Becker. Which means a lot of things.
“Holy shit,” I say. “Excuse my language, Colonel. This is a lot to process.”
Becker laughs again. His gruff and cold exterior is warming. I think he’s going to tell me what he knows. Some of it, anyway. He fiddles with the blueprints that are now in both of his hands. He rolls them tighter and tighter while an old fashioned, wind-up wristwatch peeks out beneath one sleeve of his uniform. The rainstorm rages outside, amping up the mood.
“What do you want to know?” he asks.
“Everything.”
“Then ask me a question.”
I think carefully before responding. I don’t know how many questions he’ll entertain. I don’t want to waste one. I start with the basics. Beads of perspiration form on my brow. This is a big deal.
“Do you know Roderick Davies in his capacity as a British Intelligence field agent?”
“Yes.”
Wow. I didn’t expect Becker to answer that question directly. Not that fast. I’m quite shocked by this whole situation. I was under the impression that Roddy had left the intelligence world a long time ago.
“Is he still active?”
“I’m not in any position to officially confirm, but unofficially, yes.”
Holy shit. Again, holy shit. The realization makes me question what else I thought I knew. At the same time though, it further bolsters my confidence in my father-in-law’s capabilities. He’ll get Ethan back. Surely, he will.
I take a deep breath before going further. My pulse quickens. Becker seems to know what I’m getting at. He rolls the blueprints tighter, skimming his fingertips over the seam.
“The photographs…” I continue.
“You mean the ones you found during the raid?”
“Yes,” I confirm. “Like I told you when I was debriefed, they had our home addresses. And pictures of our houses. Mine in Upstate New York and Liam’s in Washington, D.C. That’s unnerving, to say the least.”
Becker nods knowingly.
I try to formulate my next question in a way that will gain the most information in the shortest amount of time. I fear someone or something will interrupt our conversation. I want to ask how this is all connected. Although, Becker might not know what to say if I ask him an open ended question. I need to try something more contained. Another yes or no question.
“Are you aware of a connection between the terrorist cell we’re chasing and Roddy’s current field assignment?”
“Yes.”
And there it is. My God. My mind is blown.
I lift a hand and smooth the hair down on the top of my head. It’s my usual gesture when I’m nervo
us. This is surreal. I don’t think Ali has any idea what her dad is involved in. I wonder if Marjorie knows. I wonder if Liam knows. Surely not. Or does he? He knew about the microdrone technology having fallen into the wrong hands and he didn’t tell me about it.
“Did Liam know Roddy was involved?”
“Yes.”
I throw my head back and stare up at the ceiling, the rain still pounding above me. I can hardly believe what I’m hearing. Colonel Becker takes another deep breath, but he doesn’t show any sign of leaving. I keep at it.
“My…”
“Your little boy?” Becker asks, finishing my sentence.
Tears fill my eyes. “Yes, my little boy. My sweet, innocent, loving little boy who just wants to grow up happy and safe. The guys who keep trying to take him from me… is there a connection with this mission? With these terrorists?”
“I’m sorry, Major,” Becker says softly. “I’m afraid there is.”
I spring to my feet, my body threatening to reject this information. Anger rises in me like it has so many times before. My fists clench as my jaw hardens. Hot tears sting my eyes. At the same time, my stomach does flips. I feel like I might be sick.
“You mean to tell me that my work on microdrones on behalf of the United States Air Force led a terrorist cell to come after my son? What kind of fucked up justice is that? I thought I was doing a good thing. I was helping my country. And now I’m here, where I can’t even save my boy from their clutches? While… what? I raid their dens and they raid mine? And all the while, the two best friends I have, Roddy and Liam, knew?”
Becker sits patiently while I thrash and buck around the room. He knows I need to blow off some steam. This is a lot to take in. I stomp my feet, then I swing one fist at an invisible object in the air. I feel like a child having a tantrum as I move, but I keep going anyway. The emotions are a massive tangle inside of me. My body wants to move in response to the fresh knots. Becker is letting my tantrum happen. He isn’t scared of or intimidated by me. Rather, he feels bad for me and wishes to give me space to react. I’m grateful for his understanding. And for his sympathy. I wonder if Colonel Becker has kids. He’s nearly old enough to be my dad. About the same age as Roddy. For all I know, he and Roddy are peers from way back. They might have come up together.
“That’s right,” the Colonel replies. “They knew. It’s nothing personal, so don’t take it that way. You’re the lowest ranking member of the group. Without a need to know.”
“Damn,” I say as I let my arms fall slack at my side. “Forgive my outburst. It’s just… frustrating, to say the least.”
“I hear that,” he replies.
I sit back down on the bed, then wipe the sweat that’s accumulated on my forehead. I feel a little woozy after the few minutes of physical exertion. It reminds me that I’ve been injured and am not yet back to normal. I’ve got to take things slow.
“Not feeling back to your old self yet, eh?” the Colonel asks with a smile.
“Not quite,” I confirm. “But I can do the mission. I promise.”
My shoulders slump. I fear he’ll pull me off the assignment. Or worse yet, cancel it altogether.
“Don’t worry, Major,” Becker assures. “The mission will happen tonight. And I’m sending you. No one else can assess the technology like you can.”
“Except for Liam,” I blurt.
It comes out before I’ve had time to consider my words. I don’t mean to make Colonel Becker feel guilty about Liam being missing in action. I know he has hard decisions to make. I’ve made plenty of difficult decisions over the course of my military career. If it were simple or easy for Becker to get confirmation of Bravo 2 team’s demise, he would. I get that. Those of us who made it out heard the explosions. We waited to see if anyone else emerged from the rubble. We weren’t supposed to be in Syria in the first place. We all knew the dangers. Getting a rescue team on site when the Colonel doesn’t think it’s likely there are survivors would be a huge political risk that could disrupt the delicate balance in the region. The United States and our allies urgently need the cooperation of Afghani authorities if we’re going to stop the terrorist attack on American soil. It’s critically important that we go on the second mission and learn all we can about the terrorist cell’s plans. As much as it hurts me to think about Liam’s life being considered expendable when compared to the potential for gathering the intelligence we need, the soldier in me knows that it is. Those are the facts. And national security depends on facts. Cold, hard facts. From a strictly strategic point of view, leaving Liam and the others for dead was the right thing to do. That doesn’t make it any easier for me to accept, which is why I have to find a way to get to Liam on my own.
I expect Becker to be defensive about his decisions. He isn’t.
“You’re exactly right,” he says. “It’s hard to take.”
“It is.”
I look down at my hands as if they should be able to somehow make things right.
“You knew what you were getting into,” Becker says. “You and Liam knew what you were doing. You knew the risks. You knew… why there were two of you… two teams…”
I nod. I do know. I did know. Liam did, too.
“So, Roddy?” I ask, resigned. “Is he really off grid?”
“I don’t know for sure,” Becker answers. “But I think so. I think he has deviated from his orders to rescue his grandson.”
“My son.”
“Right.”
My chest heaves as my breath catches.
“If anyone can find your boy, Roddy can,” Becker says.
“I agree,” I reply. “He’s incredible. He has more instinct and skill than anyone I’ve ever seen. Not that I’ve seen a whole lot of that, but Roddy seems like one of the best.”
“I can confirm.”
“I hope he finds him,” I say quietly.
For reasons I can’t fully explain, Colonel Becker’s kindness gives me the boost I need. I’m truly ready to face what lies ahead. I know it won’t be easy. But I’m ready. Totally and completely ready.
I sit up straight, raising my chin. I open my eyes wide as I listen to the rain and center myself in the room. I pay attention to the energy that is me. I tell my energy to fill my physical body, right out to every edge. I will my body and consciousness to exist in harmony, so that I’m fully present to whatever comes, the good and the bad. This is my life right now. I vow to live it to the fullest.
“How soon do we leave?” I ask.
“Two hours.”
“Good. Will Draco Elias and Frida Price be accompanying me again?”
“They will,” Becker confirms. “As you know, Draco is the only chemical weapons expert who remains ready and able to carry out this mission. His cohort, Finn Reed, is missing in action and presumed dead along with Lieutenant Colonel Hartmann.”
“Please, call him Liam.”
It isn’t normal procedure, but none of this is normal.
“Fine. Liam. Finn Reed was with Liam.”
“Right.”
The Colonel speaks quickly. He seems eager to talk about the upcoming mission. A lot is riding on the mission’s success. We all know it.
“Agent Price will be with the two of you, as will Chief Petty Officer Tucker Eriksson and members of his SEAL Team. You’ll be well protected, just like you were last time.”
I don’t even have to say it. Colonel Becker and I look at each other, and we’re both thinking about Liam. He should have been protected, too. He should be here right now, joking with me as Becker preps us.
The Colonel moves on.
“You’ll proceed the way you did last time. The mission is the same. Breach their facility and find out what they know. Assess their capabilities. We must learn exactly what they can and can’t do with microdrones and the associated chemical weapon payload. You know the stakes.”
“I do.”
“Good.”
I’m beginning to relax. Even though I’ll be in a dangero
us situation during this mission, I feel better taking action. I always do.
“Sir,” I ask. “Can I make a few phone calls?”
He turns to me, perplexed. “Haven’t you done that already?”
“No, t.”
I don’t go into details about Ava hovering around me. Or about Adam and Barney trapping and sedating me like a wild animal. I feel respected and heard again after a hellish few days. I don’t want to go back.
“Major, you have every right to call anyone you want, including on your own mobile phone. Do you have that in your possession?”
I shake my head. “No, I don’t. I haven’t seen any of my things since I’ve been in the infirmary. They let me speak to my brother-in-law once, but I’d like to check in with other members of my family. I’ve been in and out of it, and frankly, I’m not sure how many days I’ve been here. I’d feel a lot better if I could get a sense of how things are going at home.”
Colonel Becker stands, tucking the blueprints under one arm. I’m surprised he hasn’t opened them up to go over them with me yet. Maybe he thinks I’ve already seen them. I’m still confused about a lot of things. I suppose the blueprints are the least of my concerns.
“Wait here,” he says. “I’ll be right back.”
He leaves the room and the door closes hard behind him. I’m left alone with my thoughts. My mind immediately spins as I realize that I’ve been in multiple worlds. It’s disorienting.
There’s the world I consider my actual reality, where I’m a respected member of modern society and am treated with the honor due to an Air Force officer and PhD level aerospace engineer who is on a pair of missions to quite literally save the world for millions of innocent Americans. I don’t mean that in a snobby way. I’m not stuck up or full of myself. Truly, I’m not. But one of the other worlds I’ve been inhabiting lately is a place where I’m looked down on and talked about as if I’m not even there. That’s the world where Ava, Adam, and Barney seem to see me as an inconvenience to be handled, rather than a vibrant and capable human being. That world is my least favorite.