Flags of The Forgoten

by Stallcup, Heath

  “What the fuck are you doing?” he hoarsely choked out.

  She gagged against the force his arm applied to her throat and he lessened his hold while increasing the pressure on the pinned arm. She gasped and tried to pull his arm further from her neck.

  “You better answer me or so help me, you’ll leave here in a bodybag.”

  She nodded and slapped at his arm, effectively surrendering. He pulled his arm from her neck and held her pinned arm with both hands. “I’ll talk,” she gasped.

  Roger led her slowly across the room until he found his handcuffs with his foot. He pulled her to the floor and cuffed her hands behind her back then pushed her against the foot of the bed. “So?” He rubbed at his own throat and glared at her.

  She glanced down at her nakedness then met his gaze. “Would you believe I wanted a goodbye romp? That I like it rough?”

  He pulled his Glock and checked the magazine. Slamming it back home, he sat in the dinette chair opposite her and shook his head. “Don’t even try to lie.”

  She opened her mouth again then he pressed the barrel to her forehead. She closed her mouth and focused on the weapon. “Okay. You got me.”

  “No shit. Now spill it.”

  She swallowed hard then looked up at him. “I’m not with the FBI.”

  “Bullshit.”

  “No. Seriously.” She paused, then nodded. “Okay, I mean, I am but I was originally hired by the CIA. They put me into ‘deep cover’ and cooked my records so that I could be recruited by the Bureau. I am an FBI agent, but…I’m also CIA.”

  Roger leaned back and gave her a stupid stare. “Why in the hell would the CIA want somebody in with the Bureau?”

  She gave him a duh stare and squirmed to get more comfortable in the floor. “Why do you think? They want to know what the Bureau knows.”

  “Homeland compiles everything and anybody with the proper clearance can see what’s in—”

  “Do you really think that everything is reported to Homeland?” She gave him that look that every man hates to see on a woman’s face. “I’ve been drawing double paychecks for six years.” She smirked and tried to shrug. “I looked at it as building up a dual pension.”

  “Don’t be a smart ass.” He waved the gun in her face again and she sobered.

  “Look, all I know is…I report things that look a bit dodgy and they do with it what they will.” She nodded toward her cell phone. “I cloned your phone and the data was sent to my handler. It took a few hours, but I just got the order.”

  “The order? What order?”

  She gave him that look again. “To…retire you.”

  Roger slumped in his seat and stared at her. “Who gave you that order?”

  “My handler. But believe me, it came from much higher than her.”

  “Why would anybody want to…wait. You cloned my phone?”

  She nodded. “Apparently you accessed some highly classified documents while you weren’t visiting me at the office.” Her gaze narrowed. “Whose key card did you use, by the way?”

  He waved her question off. “So, they knew that I accessed those files?”

  “Again, duh.” She raised a brow as she spoke to him. “Who did you send that intel to, anyway?”

  Roger shook his head. “Trust me, you don’t want to know.”

  “Did you sell it to some foreign national that wants to—”

  “I told you, you don’t want to know; or maybe you do but I’m not likely to tell you, am I? But no, I didn’t sell it.” He stood and rubbed at his chin. “This isn’t good.”

  “You’re telling me?” She sat up straighter and cocked her head to the side. “So, are you going to leave me handcuffed or…”

  He glared at her and fought the urge to smack her in the head with the pistol.

  She tried to give him her best seductive smile. He watched as she slowly spread her legs and scooted forward. “Just think of all the evil things you could do to me and I couldn’t fight back.”

  He rolled his eyes and began getting dressed. She watched him for a moment and her brows knit together. “Hey. I basically just said you could do whatever you wanted. Again. And you’re getting dressed?”

  He sat on the chair and slipped his shoes on. “Like I said, you already wore me out.” He glanced up at her and a smile crossed his features. “I could leave you here, naked and cuffed. Maybe pay the hotel for a full week’s stay. Put the ‘do not disturb’ sign on the door.”

  “You wouldn’t dare.” Her voice dripped with venom.

  He glanced at his watch then back to her. “Let me guess. You have somebody coming to either clean up the mess or there’s a hit squad coming to make sure you got the job done?”

  She shook her head and lowered her eyes to the floor. “No. Nobody knew I was here.”

  It was his turn to give her the duh look. “Sure. And we just happened to meet in the lobby of your building.” He finished dressing then turned to her. “They tracked my activity online, probably hacked the security cameras, sent you to intercept and…” he turned on her suddenly. “Did they tell you to fuck me to keep me close by?”

  She gave him a shocked stare but his glare quickly caused her to wither. “Yes.”

  He shook his head. “I’ll say this. They trained you well.” He walked by and patted her on the head. “Good girl.”

  She jerked away from his touch and he reached for the door. He grabbed the ‘do not disturb’ sign then pulled the door open. He turned to look at her for just a moment and she waited for him to say something. He simply stepped through and she heard the door click behind him.

  She lowered her head and muttered a quiet epithet as he hung the sign on the door.

  Karachi, Pakistan

  * * *

  “THAT WAS ROGER.” Bobby waved the group toward him. “Apparently they tracked his actions on the computer and sent a double agent to try to kill him.”

  “A double agent?” Jay asked.

  “Some chick with the FBI, apparently really worked for the company. They planted her and…that part doesn’t matter. The point is, they know what he sent us and they sent someone after him.”

  “Great.” Deric tossed the bag behind his desk and fell into his chair. “Tell me he’s okay.”

  “Yeah, he got away, but now he’s pretty sure they’re after him and they won’t give up.”

  Jay stepped out of the break room, coffee in hand. “So they know we have their intel.”

  “I’m not so sure.” Bobby reached over and pulled Jay’s coffee cup from his hand. “The chick thought that he was selling the data.”

  Jay stared as Bobby sipped from his favorite mug. He turned and walked back into the breakroom. He yelled from the other room, “If they think he’s selling it, then they might not realize that we have it.” He reappeared and held the coffee away from Bridger. “We might still have a small window.”

  Gregg tapped away at his computer then nodded. “I’m not able to find anything.” His shoulders slumped and he quickly added, “Except they know that we took Bobby out of the country.” He spun his screen around and the grainy black and white security images flashed.

  Jim sighed. “It won’t take them long to figure out we’re not in Montreal. How much time do you think we have?”

  Deric shrugged. “Hours. Days. Who knows?”

  Jay held a hand up. “First things first. Deric, get with Marcus and Ryan. Find out what the story is with al-Abadi. If he left, I want to know where.” He turned to Gregg, “You keep looking through whatever back doors you have and let us know the moment they update anything.” He spun his chair around and nodded to Jim and Steve. “You two go through our armory and make sure everything is copasetic. I want everything locked and loaded and ready to go at a moment’s notice.”

  “What do I do?” Bobby asked.

  “For now, keep your head down and let us use our assets to figure out our next move.”

  “I hate to ask, but could Jeff maybe find out something?”
Bridger didn’t like the idea of putting crosshairs on his ex partner, but he felt like time was slipping away.

  Jay shook his head. “Luckily, he’s not connected with these assholes. Whoever is behind this is covering their tracks. My guess would be that it’s a small group on a need-to-know basis.” He took a hard pull from his coffee and stared off. “But Jeff has local connections. We might need them.”

  Bridger sat down hard and clenched his jaw. “Why does this shit always have to happen to me?”

  Jim paused in the doorway to the armory and gave Bobby a nod. “My grandmother always used to say that the good Lord only piles on us what He knows we can handle.”

  Bobby glanced to the man and shook his head. “What if we don’t want to handle it?”

  “Gram never said.” He shrugged and stepped into the steel reinforced room that held their weaponry.

  Karachi, Pakistan

  * * *

  MUHAMMED AL-ABADI strode purposefully through the hallways of the posh residence. He approached a man behind a desk seated just beside a long corridor. “Is she in?”

  The man looked up from his ledger and nodded. “I shall see if she has time to speak with you.” He reached for the phone and held it to his ear. “Muhammed is here.” He waited a moment then waved the man through. As al-Abadi passed the table the man holstered the weapon he had drawn and held under the table.

  Walking down the long corridor, al-Abadi continually contemplated how a woman could have stepped into her husband’s shoes in the Islamic Republic. Even in the areas not controlled by the extremists, it was becoming less popular to allow women roles of power. The Sunnis were more tolerant, but the very idea that a woman held control over so many men?

  He reached the door and paused. Screwing up his nerve, he knocked lightly and waited for her to allow him entrance. The door cracked open and a young woman blocked the way. She eyed al-Abadi for a moment before pulling the door open and allowing him access to her mistress.

  Muhammed stepped inside and clasped his hands in front of him, waiting for the widow to acknowledge him. He tried not to make eye contact as she spoke softly on the phone. When she hung up she stood from behind her desk.

  She refused to wear a hijab or even bind her hair. Muhammed would have chastised any other woman, but she was the equivalent to a mob boss now that her husband had passed to glory, and he preferred to keep his head firmly attached to his shoulders.

  She gave him a broad smile and waved him closer. “Muhammed! So good of you to come.”

  “You look well.” He stepped closer and allowed her to embrace him. She kissed his cheek and he forced himself to appear amenable. Being raised a strict Shiite, it took most of his self control to allow her dominance. Part of him hoped that one day she would be removed from the picture. As her right hand, he would fill the vacuum left by her and assume the role as head of the organization.

  “You look rested.” She waved him closer to her desk and she retook her seat. “Tell me of our progress. Is everything in place for the arms deal?”

  “Yes, the weapons are loaded and waiting. The protesters have been paid half in advance and are ready to take to the streets. We wait only on the signs and the flags to be burned.”

  She smiled broadly. “Excellent. And the money?”

  “Half has been paid, as agreed upon. The rest upon delivery.”

  “Good. And do you foresee any difficulties in the transaction? Do you feel that it will go smoothly?”

  He nodded slightly. “We have dealt with these people twice before. There has never been any issue. I do not foresee a problem.”

  She leaned back in her chair and studied him. “Yet, you plan to oversee the people on the streets. These…protesters.” Her gaze narrowed. “You would not rather be at the arms deal?”

  Muhammed shrugged. “My lieutenants can handle the trade. If the protest is to be large enough and rowdy enough to draw the news crews, they will need direction.” He leaned forward, his voice softening. “This is the largest arms deal we’ve made. We need to ensure that all eyes are downtown and not at the industrial complex.”

  She nodded, agreeing with his logic. “Were you able to fulfill their order completely?” She watched him for any tells. “The anti-aircraft missiles, in particular?”

  He gave her a slight smile. “I was able to procure Russian ground-to-air missiles. I believe they will be more than satisfied.”

  She sighed. “I will admit. I am somewhat disturbed by their order.” She stood and pointed to the map. “The range of those missiles…it will allow them to strike any of our neighboring aircraft. If they take them to any of the borders…”

  “I, too, have had second thoughts, but allow me.” He stepped forward and pointed to the map. “Whether they strike at American aircraft or even here, into India…it is not we who pull the trigger. All blame falls onto them.”

  She shook her head slightly. “We supply the means.”

  “But we are not responsible.”

  She eyed him cautiously. “Is that why you would rather be at the protests? So that you can tell yourself that you did not sell them the weapons?”

  Muhammed averted his gaze and shook his head. “I will sleep soundly regardless of whether I deliver the weapons or not. What they do with them is not my concern. Making us money is.” He crossed his arms and stared at the map, possibilities flashing through his mind.

  She sat back down but continued to watch him. “Have they said whether they require more?”

  He shook his head and turned to address her. “No. This order is quite large and should keep them busy. However if they are as zealous as I fear they are, it won’t be long before they will place another request.”

  “They claim they are fighting on three fronts.” She nodded toward the map. “They say that they are freedom fighters, but I still fear they work in hand with the Islamic State.”

  Muhammed shrugged. “As long as their money is good.”

  She raised a brow to his response. “If they are Islamic State, they will eventually work their way here.”

  “That will take much time.” He eyed her and noticed the worry. “You fear they would try to remove you as head of the organization?”

  “That thought hasn’t occurred to you?” The bite in her voice wasn’t missed.

  He sat down and met her gaze. “If you truly fear this is their end goal, simply say the word and I will refund their money and cancel the deal.”

  She gave him a surprised look. “Without fear of reprisal?”

  He shrugged again and gave her a slight smile. “If I tell them that the weapons were duds and we just discovered it…would they not be grateful?” He shook his head. “Besides, they do not know that a woman leads us. They think that I am in control.”

  “And you enjoy that, do you not?”

  His smile widened. “As I have said, I do not care one way or the other. So long as their money is good.”

  She studied him for a moment longer then waved him away. “Continue the deal. We will watch what they do with these weapons. If it appears that they are working with the Islamic State…”

  “Then we cut them off.”

  She gave him a look that he didn’t immediately recognize. “We’ll do more than cut them off. We’ll remove them from the board ourselves.”

  Muhammed allowed himself a moment to regain his composure. He hadn’t expected her to make such a statement. He stood to leave. “As you wish.”

  She watched him exit and studied the empty space where he once was. “I need to watch that one.”

  10

  Oklahoma City, OK

  * * *

  ROGER PUSHED HIS truck through traffic, weaving and accelerating as much as he dared until he felt he had put enough distance between himself and the wetwork team which had surely been dispatched to “retire” him. He slowed the truck as he merged onto the interstate and set his cruise control. He tried to slow his breathing and force himself to calm down, his adrenaline spike
d when the slightest thought of what-could-have-been came to the forefront of his mind.

  He tried to focus on what his next step should be rather than simply running. He tried to imagine what would be waiting for him once he checked in with his future duty station. Would he even make it to Omaha? Could they have a team inbound on a chopper, looking for his truck, waiting to shoot him when he stopped for fuel?

  He had to stop thinking like that or he’d drive himself crazy. He punched at the steering wheel and ground his teeth as he tried to force his thinking back to the here and now.

  Check in with Omaha, request a few days leave while he supposedly looked for a place to lay low, bounce from cheap hotel to cheap hotel, try to keep a low profile, try to stay alive. Finally he pulled his truck into a rest stop and retrieved his cell phone from his pocket and hit speed dial.

  “I’m on the run. I have assets to fall back on. I’m sure they’re tracking everything on me.”

  “Calm down,” Bobby tried to reassure the man. “You’re starting to sound like me.”

  “Yeah? Well, maybe you aren’t as crazy as I thought.”

  Bobby breathed long and hard into the phone. “Without going into detail, do you remember the last place you and I met?”

  Roger nodded. “Yeah. We had coffee.”

  “Right. You know where I went after that, right?”

  Roger strained his mind. Where would he have gone? “I’m not following you.”

  “Where I did the job for you? Nobody knows where that is. Nobody but you. Go there.”

  “You don’t think that somebody has already—”

  “If they did, they didn’t find me. That’s what they were looking for. Trust me, they think I’m not coming back. Ditch the truck–walk there if you have to. Either way, it’s safe.”

  “What about my job?” Roger regretted asking even before the words left his mouth.

  “Right now, we’re worried about keeping you alive. Call the office, leave a message. Tell them as much or as little as you want, but toss the phone as soon as you’re done.”