Flags of The Forgoten

by Stallcup, Heath

  The guard stiffened and glanced to his partner, who said nothing. Deric sighed and bent forward, stretching his back. “Is there no way to make the 204 work?”

  Jim shook his head. “I’ve almost got all of the leads straightened out. Whoever wired this screwed the pooch.” He tugged at a series of wires and clipped them off of a connector. “But I have to have the 480 in order to properly test these connections.”

  Deric huffed then pulled the heavy box from the workbench. He turned to the guard and whistled. “Come on boy. Get the door, get the door. Good dog.”

  The guard finally reacted and sneered at him before turning and heading to the steel security door.

  “Don’t tease these guys. They have a job to do, too. I really don’t want to explain to your old lady that you got shot for being a smart ass.”

  Deric paused at the door and gave him a dirty look. “I’d much rather get shot for being a smart ass than shot for trying to bring you your shit. Fucking weighs a ton.”

  Jim watched him disappear through the doorway and seriously wondered if his partner might catch a bullet for running his mouth.

  Langley, VA

  * * *

  BRIDGER CONTINUED TAKING snapshots with the digital camera, closing the documents after checking each image. He groaned to himself as his neck began to cramp. “You know, I’ve been buried to my neck in ice cold mud before and it wasn’t as uncomfortable as sitting at this goddam desk and punching at a computer.”

  “Quit yer bitching,” Gregg replied in his earpiece, doing his best imitation of Jay. “My best count is you’re over halfway done.”

  “How are Winkem and Blinkem doing with the guards?”

  “You don’t want to know.” Gregg’s voice held little hope. “These guys aren’t cutting them any slack. Every time they go to the truck or to the head to take a leak, those guys are on their ass.”

  Bobby groaned and closed the document on the screen. He held the camera in order to capture the next document and clicked the button. “This may not go as planned.”

  “Does it ever?”

  He shook his head in silent agreement. “Worst case scenario, I scale the outside of the building.”

  “Sorry buddy. They have motion detectors and ground sensors. They’ll know that somebody is on the grounds unauthorized before you could make it to the parking lot.”

  “Great.” He closed the document and focused the camera on the next one. “Please tell me that this thing is automatically sending you the pictures.”

  “Sorry broski. They can detect cellular devices inside the building. That is a standard issue digital camera.” Gregg’s voice suddenly sounded more optimistic. “On the brighter side, it does have a ruggedized 500 gig SD card that you can slip out and hide just about anywhere. You know, in the event that you’re captured.”

  “Ruggedized? So it can be swallowed?”

  Gregg cringed. “Only as a last resort.” He shuddered involuntarily then added, “If you do swallow it, I’m not touching it once it comes out.”

  “You can throw them up you know. Dumbass.”

  “I heard that.” Gregg’s voice dropped to a whisper. “I have activity. Somebody is coming up the stairwell. They’ll be on your floor in about twenty seconds.”

  “Why are you whispering?” Bobby clicked the photo then closed the image, eyeing the scores of open documents still left.

  “I don’t know. It seemed like the thing to do.” Gregg groaned over the coms. “Yeah, you’re about to have company. Probably a roving Cerberus guard doing his rounds, if I were to guess.”

  “You don’t think they’re on to me?” Bobby glanced over his shoulder, trying to see out of the office.

  “I doubt it. It’s one person and they’re moving at a regular pace. If they were on to you, I would think they’d send an entire team…and they’d be in a much bigger hurry.”

  Bobby heard a door slam outside of the office then turned off the monitor of the computer. He dropped to the ground and slid under the desk, pulling the office chair as tightly to his body as he could. “Standing by.”

  Gregg watched the readout on his screen and observed as the motion detectors on that floor lit up from the guard’s movement. He watched as the man zig zagged across the floor, checking office doors. “Tell me you locked the door behind you.”

  Bobby’s reply was an affirmative double click of his coms. Gregg let loose a sigh and watched as the man approached the office on his screen.

  Bobby could hear the door knob rattle as the man checked it as secure then strained to listen as the man rattled the next door knob. He was about to push the chair off of him when Gregg’s voice came back over the earbud. “Hold tight. He’s coming back.”

  Bobby felt a cold sweat pop out across his forehead and saw the light of a torch as the man scanned the office. His beam seemed to settle on the desk for a moment then he heard muffled speech. Bobby clenched his jaw and strained to listen. “Can you capture his coms?”

  “Negative. It’s a scrambled frequency.”

  Bobby watched as the beam from the torch fanned out then disappeared. “Is he gone?”

  “Not far. Hold tight.”

  Bobby held his breath and listened, preparing himself to react if the situation called for it. He nearly jumped when Gregg came back through his earbud. “He’s leaving.”

  Bobby pushed the chair out and slithered out from under the desk. As he came up on his knees and glanced through the glass of the office, his eyes fell on the digital camera sitting atop the desk.

  “Fuck me.”

  “Not even for money.” Gregg’s deadpan reply wasn’t as funny as it sounded in his head.

  “I left the camera on the desktop,” Bobby groaned as he came back to his feet. “Is he clear?”

  “Affirmative. You are clear to proceed.”

  Bobby switched the monitor back on and focused on the task at hand. “You reckon he noticed the camera?”

  “No outside electronic devices are allowed, so yeah. He may have. Give me a moment.”

  Bobby returned to the monotonous task while Gregg did his thing. “Yeah, they logged an ‘unknown device’ left out on your floor.”

  “So I guess whoever owns this office will have some explaining to do in the morning.” Bobby continued snapping photos and closing the opened documents.

  “Unless you’re caught.”

  “If they come back I’m throwing him out the window and riding him to the ground.”

  Gregg snorted in his ear. “You’re sixty feet from ground level. No amount of fluff will keep you from breaking something important.”

  Bobby tried to ignore his negativity as he continued snapping photos. “How’s Jim and Deric doing?”

  “Status quo. We may have to come up with another exit strategy.”

  Bobby grinned as he continued, “I came up with one, but I guess I wouldn’t wanna break something important.”

  “You could always just land on your head.”

  “Ha. Ha. Everybody is a comodian tonight.”

  “You mean comedian.”

  “Not if your sense of humor is toilet worthy.”

  Langley, VA

  * * *

  DARREN CHESTERFIELD FELT like a small child about to be lectured by a parent or principal. He stood in front of Colonel Nelson’s desk, his hands shaking from nerves, lack of sleep, and far too much caffeine. When Colonel Nelson closed his computer screen, he looked up at the withered shell that was once an agent for the Company.

  “I suppose I have to ask.”

  Darren shook his head. “About what, sir?”

  “Why was Weston here again?”

  Darren swallowed hard and his gaze wandered. “She had more intel.”

  “Your targets are out of the country, aren’t they?”

  Darren nodded, realizing that it would do no good to lie. “I thought they were holed up in a safe house somewhere still in Karachi.”

  “You were wrong.”

  H
e nodded slowly. “I was.”

  Colonel Nelson leaned back in his chair and rubbed at his chin. “I have no idea why, but I have a soft spot for you, Chesterfield; sadly, I tend to feel for the underdog. I don’t want to see you fail on this op.” He stood slowly and walked to the corner of his office. “This is the kind of op that can make or break a man’s reputation.”

  Chesterfield looked at him, his bloodshot eyes searching the man for some explanation. “Sir?”

  “Oh, you knew that this op could be something to start your career climbing up the ladder.” He pulled a small box from a wall safe and peered to the corner of his office. His hand withdrew an illegal Cuban cigar and he slipped it into his uniform shirt pocket. He placed the box back into the safe then moved casually to his chair. “Funny thing about government though…” He flipped a button under the edge of his desk and the security camera mounted to the wall of his office went dark. He smiled and pulled the cigar out from his pocket, running it under his nose and inhaling.

  “What is that, sir?”

  “This is a fucking cigar, you dimwit.” Nelson bit the end off then lit it, puffing thick clouds of grey smoke into the air.

  “No, sir, I meant…what is funny about working for the government?”

  Nelson tossed his lighter back into his desk drawer and took a long draw from the Romeo y Julieta. “The funny thing is, if you really excel at your job, you can find yourself stuck in the same position for your entire career.” He took another long pull and blew it high into the air. “But if you fuck up…and I mean really screw the pooch, like, a royal screwing…you tend to end up in the highest positions.”

  Chesterfield’s face scrunched in confusion. “Sir?”

  “You heard me right, son.” Nelson tucked the cigar into the corner of his mouth and chewed the end. “It’s the royal fuck ups that get promoted the highest and the fastest.”

  “I’m not…”

  Nelson leaned back again and gave the man a smile. “Either way, you’re going to make your mark with this op. You’ll either find a way to pull it off or you’ll fuck it up so royally that they’ll feel the need to put you in a position of power so you can’t screw up that bad again without them knowing it before you do.”

  Chesterfield doubted that his words rang with any truth, but he grasped at the thin straw of hope that Colonel Nelson dangled in front of him. “T-thank you, sir.”

  “Don’t thank me, son.” He leaned forward and pulled the stogie from his mouth. “Thank Uncle Sam.”

  Chesterfield nodded, unsure what the purpose of the entire conversation was other than to ensure he knew that the Colonel was aware of everything that happened in the building. “Yes, of course, sir.”

  “Take a moment and pull your head out of your ass.” He stood and laid the cigar on the corner of his desk. “I know you’re sleep deprived and you probably couldn’t drag a needle out of your ass with a John Deere tractor…but take a moment and try to think. If you were Bridger, what would you do?”

  Chesterfield shook his head. “Sir, I’ve tried my hardest to get into the man’s head, but he’s been two…sometimes three moves ahead of me since the whole damned thing started.”

  “Language, son,” Nelson chastised, confusing Darren even more. “No cursing in my office unless I’m the one doing it.” He picked the cigar up again and took another pull, blowing the smoke in Darren’s face. “Think, boy. You’re an ex-spook; your government is trying to pin some hokey bullshit on your head and your friends are dragged into it. What would be your next move?”

  Darren blew his breath out, his mind trying to wrap itself around the situation, but his sleep deprived brain refused to cooperate. “I don’t know…maybe hide until it all blew over?”

  “This is a spec-op soldier. A trained instigator and field operative. Do you really think he’d go to ground and wait?”

  Darren shook his head. “No. He’s too proud. He’d…” His face lifted and he stared at Colonel Nelson. “He’d want to be proactive.”

  Nelson nodded. “Okay.” He blew out another blue-gray cloud of smoke. “And how do you think he’d accomplish such a task?”

  Darren’s head was shaking as he tried to put himself into Bridger’s shoes. “To my knowledge, he has no other resources. All of his connections are tied up with that damned Baba Yaga group.”

  Nelson nodded again. “Okay. What else?”

  Darren shook his head, his face twisting in frustration. “I can’t imagine…”

  “You have to, boy!” Nelson pulled the cigar out again and pressed it into the back of Darren’s hand. Chesterfield’s eyes grew wide and he opened his mouth to scream. Colonel Nelson pressed the orange glowing tip harder into his skin, his hand like a vice, holding Chesterfield’s flesh to the flaming cherry. “Wake your ass up, boy!”

  Darren pulled his fist back and cupped it protectively with his other hand. He stared at the older man. He was wide awake now, his mind racing. “The only thing he has that could possibly be damaging is the documents that Wallace sent him.”

  Nelson nodded again, a slow smile spreading across his face. “And what can he do with those?”

  Darren shook his head. “N…nothing. They’re encrypted.”

  Colonel Nelson gave him a knowing look. “Are they, now?”

  Darren nodded. “Yeah. My IT experts said it would take them years to break the encryption.”

  “Unless…”

  Darren’s face registered confusion while his brain tried to connect the dots. “Unless he had somebody on the inside that could decode it for him.”

  “Bingo.” Nelson took another pull from the cigar then snuffed it out in his ashtray. “I think you need to double check that Bridger and his cohorts don’t have any other connections that might be tied to the agency.”

  “I’ve checked, double checked and triple checked.” Darren began to pace slowly. “All of their contacts are either dead or retired. There’s nobody active that they ever worked with or even had a third degree of contact with.”

  Colonel Nelson sat down and stared at the man, willing him to connect the dots. “What are his other options?”

  Darren shook his head. “Unless he could figure out a way into the building…” He quickly dismissed the idea. Slowly his eyes widened. “Or find a way to get the program out of the building?”

  Colonel Nelson shrugged. “If that’s the only option that is viable, you’d better run with it.”

  Darren turned to leave then paused. He stood at the door, the blackened burn on his hand beginning to throb. “You’re a cold son of a bitch.” He turned slowly and faced the man. “But, thank you.”

  “Remember, Chesterfield…”

  “I know sir. You don’t know shit.”

  Karachi, Pakistan

  * * *

  BASSIM AL-AHMED paced the sunken living room, his face twisted with anger. “Why? Why would they kill so many just to stop us? We are not fighting them!”

  “Bassim!” A man ran into the room, a ledger in his hands. “I have found something.”

  Bassim took the ledger and scanned it. He looked up at the messenger and smiled. “Perhaps he knows where our money is.”

  “Who, Bassim?”

  He held the ledger up so that they could all see it. “Muhammed al-Abadi! Our would-be politician and friend of the common people, that’s who.” He slammed the ledger down on the table and clenched his jaw tight.

  “He is a small arms dealer. He is nobody.”

  Bassim spun and stared at the man who spoke. “Where do you think his arms come from? Huh?” He kicked the table, knocking the ledger across the floor. “He worked for the widow!”

  “Are you sure, Bassim?” One of his men leaned down and retrieved the book from the broken glass scattered across the tile. “If he worked for her, could he truly know?”

  Bassim stared at the man. “According to that, Muhammed is her right hand. He was the face for the majority of her dealings. No self-respecting buyer would dare dea
l with a woman.” He spat and cursed himself for having stooped to that level himself.

  “If he is her right hand…”

  Bassim nodded. “Then he must know where our money is.” He turned and glared at the men surrounding him. “Find Muhammed al-Abadi! Bring him to me ALIVE!”

  26

  Langley, VA

  * * *

  DERIC HAD GROWN tired of making numerous trips to the work truck. He handed the task of wearing down the guards to Jim, who currently was making his fifth…or was it the sixth trip back to the truck.

  He set the heavy test equipment down and wiped at phantom sweat across his brow. “I really wish they had called us sooner.” He made a big show of digging through the equipment in the rear and pulled out something that even he wasn’t sure its purpose. “The system has run so long in limp mode that half the circuits are fried.”

  He turned and sat on the heavy bumper of the truck. “I may have to call in reinforcements for this one.”

  The guard continued to scan the area beyond him, paying little attention to what he was actually saying.

  Jim stood and snapped his fingers at the man. “Hello? Excuse me?” The guard’s face jerked downward and stared at him. “If I need to call in reinforcements? Do you guys have enough people standing by to handle the job?”

  The guard nodded. “Give us a heads up before they get here. We need to ensure they’re on the approved list of contractor personnel.”

  Jim nodded. “Understood.” He turned back to the truck and secretly keyed his coms. “Did you catch that?”

  “I see where you’re going and it won’t work.” Gregg made smacking noises as he chewed and worked. “They would definitely do a head count going in. And out. There’s no way to sneak Bridger out amongst a small crowd.”

  Jim stood up and stretched his back. He glanced to the parking lot and the increasing number of people who’d come to work early. “Christ you guys are already busy. It’s only 4:30 in the morning.”