The Suicide King

by Chris Fritschi

  “After a year of small busts and bodies piling up the DEA finally got suspicious that Rojas might not be the golden boy they’d thought. After a closer look it turns out all of those sicario kills were false positives. Rojas had grabbed up locals under the pretense that they were needed for government labor. He’d take them somewhere, kill them, dump a gun in their hands and call it a victory for a drug free world.”

  “The DEA must have had a PR nightmare on their hands,” said Tate with an ironic chuckle. “They’d probably been parading the general in front of congress to increase their funding and congress found out the general had played them for suckers, they’d never let the DEA live it down.”

  “Exactly,” said Kaiden. “The DEA went into overdrive with the Colombian government offering incentives if they would retire general Rojas early. It nearly bankrupted the DEA’s anti-drug budget. They greased the right palms and the general was pulled from active duty and scheduled for an honorable discharge the following year.”

  “But he’s still in uniform,” said Tate.

  “Part of the deal,” said Kaiden, “was that the general would announce his retirement a month before he left the military. He had to be worried. He was no use to the cartel. In fact, he knew too much and it would be cheaper to kill him than to pay him off for the rest of his life.”

  “It’s a good bet,” said Tate, “the DEA were concerned the general might blackmail them with spilling the truth about them covering up his false positives. The general would have wanted to disappear before having an unfortunate accident care of the DEA.”

  Kaiden looked at Tate with disapproval. “What?” said Tate defensively.

  “Don’t be stupid,” scolded Kaiden. “The DEA doesn’t do that kind of thing. They hire other people to do it.”

  “I’d ask how you know so much,” said Tate.

  “I read a lot on the internet,” said Kaiden.

  “How do you get the internet out here?” asked Tate.

  Kaiden said nothing, but fixed Tate with a stare filled with meaning.

  “So, about the general,” said Tate finally breaking the silence. “What happened to him?”

  Kaiden let the stare linger a moment longer then went back to her briefing. “Three months before his retirement the Vix appeared. The world went to hell. Everyone forgot about the general and two years later he’s running his own army and mission number one is to take down America.”

  “And somehow we have to stop him,” said Tate puffing out his cheeks. “We know where he is and what he’s doing, but that’s all.”

  “First order of business is to recon his operation,” said Kaiden.

  “Easier said than done,” said Tate. “The Suicide King’s a scumbag, but a tactical scumbag. I went over a map of where he’s set up. It’s a port city on the Isla Cascajai. Think of New York’s Long Island, but smaller, about a mile wide and two miles long. The whole thing is surrounded by water with only one bridge connecting it to the mainland.”

  “A city?” frowned Kaiden. “That could be swarming with Vix.”

  “The last recorded census had a population of forty-five thousand,” said Tate. “There’s no way he could have cleaned them all out. An island of Vix would be a great security barrier. All he has to do is isolate the lab with a strong, unbreachable barrier to keep out the Vix. He’s likely to have some heavy defenses on the bridge.” Tate tapped the bridge on the map as he considered his next move. A low rumble of a distant thunder storm came over the sound of the air conditioner. “We can’t recon an entire city. Five minutes after we step foot on there the Vix would be chewing on us.”

  “I know a way,” said Kaiden, “but it doesn’t happen unless you accept it with zero questions and I know that puts you outside of your comfort zone.”

  Tate nodded as he struggled to maintain a poker face. “When I’m around you there’s no such thing as a comfort zone,” said Tate.

  “If you want my help you have to trust me, Jack,” said Kaiden. “There’s no in between. Either you do, or you don’t.”

  It was a lot to process, but Tate knew she expected an answer now. If he agreed, he’d have to eat his doubts and reservations. Cynicism cast the final vote. He’d done nothing meaningful with his life over the last couple of years, so if he died now it wouldn’t be as if he had much to live for. “All right,” said Tate. “But you tell me what’s happening before it happens. There’s no unilateral decisions. Agreed?”

  Kaiden closed the file and walked over to the front door. “Arrange for a helo to drop us for a recon mission, in two days,” said Kaiden as she opened the door. Outside, streaks of rain were splattering the packed ground, but it wouldn’t be long before it turned the base into a muddy mess.

  Tate paused on his way out the door. “Is that a yes?” asked Tate.

  “And work on your trust issues,” said Kaiden. “You’re starting to get on my nerves.”

  The moment Tate stepped into the rain his hair was plastered to his scalp and his shoulders were dark with wet. Kaiden closed the door behind him without another word. “I’m taking that as a yes,” said Tate.

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  STAND OFF

  They were less than two hundred meters from their objective. The rain had let up the day before, but Tate and Kaiden were soaking wet and caked with mud. To avoid their helicopter being detected, they had been dropped several miles away. They had spent that last two days carefully making their way through the jungle towards the Suicide King’s island.

  There was no sign of any outpost or listening station which told Tate their quarry had a lot of confidence in his position.

  Despite their observation point was separated from the island by a half mile wide bay they were taking no chances and low crawled the last fifty meters. Soon the soggy ground slipped below the murky water’s edge and they stopped and rested. Farther from shore clusters of trees rose tall out of the water reminding Tate of Tupelo trees in the Florida bayou.

  Tate wiped the mud from his lips and took a grateful pull from his hydration cell. He scrapped the crud and gunk from his H&K 93 then dipped it into the water.

  “It’s a crime the way you treat that weapon,” said Kaiden.

  “The whole reason I picked this was because it’s tough,” said Tate as he sloshed the rifle underwater. “It’s not one of those fickle guns that only works when the conditions are perfect.”

  “It’s not even military issue,” countered Kaiden. “They sold those things in sporting goods stores.”

  “Exactly,” said Tate. “The army has a long and glorious history of getting suckered into buying magic beans, but civilians? They know a quality gun when they see it.”

  “And it was the last gun the armorer had that wasn’t falling apart,” added Kaiden.

  Tate lifted his rifle out of its bath and drained the water from the barrel. “Let’s get down to business,” said Tate.

  Staying on their bellies, each unclipped the straps to their assault packs and pulled them around to unload their gear. Kaiden busied herself with a hardened laptop while Tate took out a short tripod and removed the protective wrappings of his enhanced digital imaging system. He snapped the EDIS to the tripod and pointed it to the distant island. Tate looked through the viewfinder and pressed the button to focus the image sensor. Nothing happened. Swearing under his breath he pressed the focus a few more times with no success.

  “Piece of junk,” he said, as he smacked the EDIS with the flat of his hand. “Everything we have is out of date, broken, or first generation.”

  “And yet you love your army,” teased Kaiden.

  Tate held up a muddy finger to make his point. “I love my country,” said Tate. “There’s a difference.”

  He put his eye back to the viewfinder and pressed the focus button again and watched as the OIP image processor displayed pops of jagged lines and light until it melded them together into a single, near 3D image. “Okay, that got it,” smiled Tate.

  The distant isla
nd came into sharp view. The entire northern edge of the island was lined with a mile long, concrete dock. Beyond the towering cargo cranes were rows and rows of CONEX shipping containers. Rusting cargo ships scraped against their moorings at the north-east end of the dock. It was the single cargo ship at the northern end of the dock that got Tate’s attention.

  “I got movement on the dock,” said Tate while keeping his eye to the EDIS. “I can see a couple of armed guys in uniform. They have a military patrol boat tied up at the dock. There’s a couple of mounted guns on it.” Tate zoomed in on the container ship. “That’s what I thought,” said Tate. “There’s a lookout on top of the ship’s bridge with binos. From that vantage he can see a boat or helo a long way off.” Tate tried to zoom the EDIS but the image fragmented. He worked the various buttons with no success. “Please tell me whatever it is I’m not supposed to ask about will be ready soon,” growled Tate.

  “Right here,” said Kaiden as she swirled the laptop screen into view. On the screen was a top-down view of the docks in real time.”

  “A drone?” said Tate. “How did you get…? Right, no questions.” But Tate was filled with questions. Who did she know with access to this kind of tech? How was she able to get a high-level file on General Rojas?

  “Something like that,” smiled Kaiden. “This has some long acronym that nobody cares about, but the short version is it’s an unmanned reconnaissance vehicle.”

  They watched as multiple icons began appearing on the screen. Some of the icons were stationary while others slowly moved.

  “The URV,” said Kaiden, “is mapping and tagging biologicals, humans, high density metals…”

  “Weapons?” asked Tate, impressed.

  “Exactly,” confirmed Kaiden. “It compares what it sees against a visual database of weapons then assigns a confidence rating depending how closely they match. See those icons with those lines?”

  Tate could see that as the icon moved it would leave a track of its movement. “The URV is recording the movement,” said Tate.

  “Right,” confirmed Kaiden. “It records patterns of life.”

  “That’ll mean we can see a history of the guard’s patrol areas. How long can the URV stay up?” he asked.

  “It’s a near indefinite loiter time,” said Kaiden. “The entire surface is a multi-density, solar cell that charges the power pack faster than it can drain.”

  “See that,” said Tate as he pointed at the screen. A wall of stacked shipping containers had been erected around the shipping dock creating a forty-foot-high barrier. “That’s how they’re keeping out the Vix.” The URV was picking up packs of Vix roaming along the barrier.

  “I’ve programmed the URV with waypoints around the island,” said Kaiden. “With the relay I brought I can get a real-time feed on this laptop from base.”

  “I know I’ve been out of the tech loop for a couple of years,” said Tate, “but this is seriously advanced stuff. Whoever loaned this to you, must have owed you a big favor.”

  Kaiden’s teeth shown bright white against her muddy face. “I didn’t exactly borrow it,” said Kaiden.

  “You stole it?” said Tate only mildly astonished.

  “It’s only stealing if they know it’s missing,” said Kaiden.

  “Please tell me you changed the RTH,” said Tate. All unmanned devices were programed with a Return To Home GPS location. If the vehicle received a RTH command it would fly back to its home position.

  “Seriously?” said Kaiden disapprovingly. “Give me some credit, Jack.”

  Tate began packing up his EDIS. “I’ll signal the helo for our pickup,” said Tate.

  “What?” said Kaiden as a large beetle crawled across her arm. “And give up this luxury vacation?”

  “I’m curious to see the intel the URV gets,” said Tate, “but I’ve seen enough to know we can’t breach that position. Maybe there’s another way to interrupt the Suicide King’s operation.”

  Kaiden looked at Tate with disbelief, but said nothing. He looked away, busying himself with packing up his gear, but could still feel her eyes on him. “Are you ready?” snapped Tate. “Let’s get moving.”

  But Kaiden remained where she was, holding Tate in her stare.

  “What?” hissed Tate. “You have something to say, say it.”

  “I am,” said Kaiden flatly.

  “The only way to reach that dock is by the water,” said Tate. “We wouldn’t get have way there before that patrol boat was shooting holes in us. Even if we survived that, they’d have the high ground from the deck of the ship shooting down on us. We’d be wiped out before we touched the dock. Damn it Kaiden, why’re you staring at me?”

  “I was trying to see past the bullshit for the Jack Tate I know,” said Kaiden.

  Tate went back to hotly cramming his gear back into his assault pack, biting back the anger that roared through his veins until he couldn’t contain it anymore. “That was a cheap shot,” snapped Tate. “You think I don’t know I’m out of shape; that I lost my edge? You think I like this? I have to accept I’m not as good as I used to be. Maybe you can wipe that look off your face and accept it too.”

  “I don’t think any of that’s true,” said Kaiden, “and I think you know it. We’ve been through some scary stuff. More than once I thought we weren’t going to make it out of an operation alive and each time you pulled some hard-core Chuck Norris tactic that nobody else in the unit would’ve thought of and saved our butts. But then your kid died and you disappeared. You think you’re a bastard for doing that and you let that redefine you ever since.”

  Kaiden closed the laptop and stuffed it into her pack. She snaked her arms through the straps and buckled it on back. Tate only watched in silence as she got up.

  “You should close the chapter on that time in your life,” said Kaiden, “and start writing a new one.” Kaiden paused before disappearing into the brush. “Do it soon, Jack. I’m getting tired of waiting for you to pull yourself together.”

  * * *

  As the Blackhawk skids touched down Tate hopped out looking forward to a long shower and an even longer time alone. The two-day hike back to the exfil point had been a chilly one. Tate and Kaiden had hardly spoken five words to each other. Once he got over his anger Tate began to see some truth in what she’d said. He almost laughed at the idea that he was angry at himself for being angry at himself. It was something to think about over a lot of beers and solitude. Those plans looked less likely from the worried expression on Wesson’s face as she jogged towards him.

  “Sergeant Wesson,” said Tate as a simple greeting.

  “Welcome back, Top,” said Wesson. “Just in time.”

  “For what?” asked Tate.

  “You received a priority message from command,” said Wesson. “There’s a full bird colonel arriving at the base in…” Wesson looked at her watch. “Twenty minutes.” Wesson handed him the message.

  Tate glanced through the pile of abbreviations until he got to the meat of the message. Tate had been called to a joint task force meeting. Other than the date and time there was no other information.

  “What’s going on, top?” asked Wesson.

  “No idea,” said Tate. “Do me a favor. Stay in your quarters in case I need you in the meeting.”

  Tate took off to his quarters to clean up and dress. He cursed as he nicked himself shaving and pressed a wad of tissue paper on it. He could hear the sound of a helicopter as threw on fresh fatigues and ran out just as the chopper was touching down. Tate snapped a crisp salute as Colonel Hewett stepped out and returned the salute.

  “Lead the way, Jack,” said Hewett.

  “Yes sir,” said Tate as he guided the colonel to a nearby building. “Would you like anything brought to the conference room, sir?”

  “No thanks,” said Hewett. “This won’t take long.”

  The chilled air of the conference room was a welcomed change from the muggy weather, but Tate’s mind was swimming with questions around why
Colonel Hewett was there.

  “I’m here about this issue with the poisoned coke,” said Hewett.

  “Sir?” said Tate. “I don’t have any new intel to report. Frankly, I’ve hit a dead end.” Tate wasn’t about to tell Hewett everything he’d learned about General Rojas, aka The Suicide King, or that he currently had a recon drone flying over his operation.

  “That’s why I’m here,” said Hewett. “Not long after we talked I was contacted by another of our field assets regarding the same situation.”

  “Army asset?” probed Tate.

  “No,” said Hewett. “Within The Ring. This coke issue is serious and it’s gotten the attention of some inside The Ring. Shipments of poisoned drugs into North America would cause wide spread destabilization and pose a serious setback to The Ring’s activities.

  “The irony isn’t lost on me,” said Tate. “If we left him alone, the Suicide King could do more damage to The Ring in one blow than we could in months, but at the cost of countless American lives.”

  The conversation was briefly interrupted by the thudding of a helicopter flying overhead.

  “That’ll be our other asset,” said Tate.

  “I appreciate the extra resources, Colonel,” said Tate, “but I believe my team has got this.”

  “Sorry Jack,” said the colonel, unmoved. “There’s too much on the line and frankly I have doubts that your unit is up to the task. I understand, no unit leader wants to hear that, but we can’t risk letting these drugs make it into the cities.”

  “Colonel,” said Tate firmly, “bringing in another asset could…”

  Tate was interrupted by a sharp knock at the door. A private opened the door. “Colonel, sir,” said the private. “Your visitors are…”

  “That’ll be all, private,” said Hewett as two men in camo fatigues walked in.

  “Master Sergeant, Jack Tate,” said Hewett, “this is our field asset, Brigadier General Guilermo Rojas, formerly of the Colombian Army.”