by Kat Smith
“Good news. I think once we have a definite date, the team will focus and settle.”
“I’d like to meet with you and Captain Conner today to review the operation plan.” She flipped open her calendar. “Are you available around 1400?”
The line was silent for a few seconds as Mara reviewed her calendar. “That works for me. Your office or mine?”
“If you don’t mind, I’d prefer to meet here at ICC. Alex is coming over after lunch to hand off a few cases. I’ve booked a tight schedule for her, so I’m squeezing this amid her other meetings.”
“I’ll notify Captain Conner. We’ll be there if we don’t get buried in your security.”
Payton flipped a pencil through her fingers. “Excellent. Let me know if I can assist with those two. I’m a fairly good mediator.”
“They need a therapist. But speaking of mediation, rumor is that they are having a face-off at the obstacle course later this morning. They may need a referee.”
When an analyst knocked on the door, Payton raised a finger for him to wait. “Really? That should be fun to watch.”
“The showdown is at 0900. Come on over.”
“I’ll see if I can sneak away for an hour. If not, I’ll see you at 1400. Later, Colonel.” Payton punched the release button and smiled. She remembered being that young and stupid once.
Devan and Alex stood near the start of the obstacle course. Word had spread across the base about the intense competition between the two, and a large crowd had turned out to watch.
The obstacle course was set up in the middle field of the quarter-mile track. Spectators were sitting on bleachers getting ready for the competition. Others, including Devan’s team, were lining up next to the track.
Alex turned to see Mara and Payton walking toward the crowd. “Shit. How did they find out about this?”
Devan stretched into a lunge. “Who?” She turned her head in the direction Alex was looking. “Oh, bloody hell.”
“Who told them?”
Devan stepped into another lunge. “Nothing gets by the colonel.” She dropped a hand on Alex’s shoulder. “I’ll go ahead and extend my sympathies for the embarrassment you’re about to experience. I’m sure it will take you a while to meet me at the finish line.”
Alex gave Devan a half playful shove and pushed her off balance. “Fuck you, Conner. In your dreams.”
Payton noticed money changing hands as they walked toward the field. “Looks like bets are being made.”
Mara rolled her eyes and purposely looked away from the group as money was passed and Sergeant Randell Washington noted their favorites. “I’ll pretend I didn’t see that.”
Payton tipped her head toward the two competitors. “Let ’em have their fun. When’s the last time you saw those two laughing?”
They found a clear spot near the middle of the action. “True. I just hope they’re still laughing at the end. This could make things better or a hell of a lot worse.”
Sergeant Lena Taylor, Devan’s number two in command, stepped to the edge of the start line and shouted, “To your mark.”
Devan and Alex moved onto the track and toed the white chalk line as Lena raised the starter pistol in the air.
“Ready. Set.” At the loud boom, Alex and Conner sprinted through the first leg of the course, a lap around the quarter-mile track.
Payton noticed Alex seemed to be holding back. She’d been a track and field standout in high school and could run like a cheetah. She ran marathons every chance she could squeeze them into her schedule and ran almost daily at the track at the University of Maryland. “She should be killing this part of the course. What is she doing?”
Alex and Devan reached the cargo net at the same time. They were head to head at the top of the net and easily dropped to the ground on the other side.
Devan took the lead in the sprint to the next station, the low wire, and called over her shoulder, “Hurry up, Sheridan.”
Devan took a dive under the wire and belly-crawled through the mud until barbed wire snagged the back of her shirt. Alex crawled by laughing. “What’s wrong, Conner? All caught up in yourself?”
Devan had fallen a few seconds behind when she reached the wall hanger, one of her best obstacles. She hit the wall at half speed, grabbed the rope, and easily pulled herself to the top of the eight-foot wall. She transitioned to the pipes and pulled herself hand over hand across a mud bog until she reached the far wall, grabbed the rope, and descended to the ground with a thud. She was turning for the next obstacle when Alex hit the last bar. “Chop, chop, Sheridan. Didn’t you play on the monkey bars in school?”
The crowd on the sidelines was shouting encouragement to their favorite soldier. Captain Carlton McKenzie, a leader for one of Mara’s teams, was serving as the referee. He looked sheepishly at Mara as he passed them on the sideline. “Morning, Colonel.”
Mara raised a brow and gave him her best stern look. “Good morning, Captain McKenzie.”
He shrugged and grinned. “Just a little friendly competition on this fine morning.”
“Yes, and who do you have money on, Captain?”
He was smart enough to send her an innocent look. “Me?”
“Yes, Captain, you.”
He moved farther down the course and called back over his shoulder, “You’ve always taught us that family trumps everything, Colonel.” He moved farther away. “Got fifty on Conner.”
Payton laughed. “They’re not even trying to hide the gambling.” Payton gave Mara a shoulder nudge. “Isn’t that against regs, Colonel?”
“I try to give them a long leash.” Mara looked down the line at the spectators. Nearly every one of the soldiers on the field served under her. “As long as they don’t do anything stupid.”
“And that’s why they respect you.”
Alex was in a full sprint to catch up as Devan reached the swing, stop, jump station. Devan was going too fast and didn’t get a good grip on the rope. Alex watched as Devan’s hands slipped off the rope and she landed with a splat, flat on her back in the mud pit.
“Fuck.” Devan pulled herself out of the mud just in time to see Alex grab the rope and execute a perfect swing above her. She couldn’t help but admire the grace of her competitor. Per the rules, Devan had to backtrack and retry. She started a slow run toward the rope, and this time, she made it across. Alex had a good lead now, and Devan dug into a full sprint as she raced to minimize the distance between them.
Alex reached the six vaults station and vaulted over the raised logs, one after another with ease, thanks to her six years of gymnastics. She didn’t take the time to look back, but she could sense Devan drawing closer. The shin splint she’d suffered from running on the old track was sending a searing burn through her leg. Alex knew she would not be at her best on the final quarter-mile sprint to the finish; she knew she could still lose. She pushed the pain from her mind and turned toward the track.
Devan hit the track in a full sprint. She could not allow Alex to beat her in front of her fellow soldiers. The heckling would be interminable, and she’d never live down the mockery if she lost to a desk jockey.
Alex pumped her legs hard and focused on the wide white finish line. Thirty yards to go, she heard Devan’s footsteps pounding the track behind her; twenty yards, she could hear Devan’s hard breathing as she drew closer; ten yards, Devan caught up, and they were neck and neck, running a dead heat.
They crossed the finish line toe to toe, coughing and gasping for air. Alex wanted to puke but forced it down. She would not allow anyone to see weakness.
The crowd that had followed along the sideline erupted in cheers. Alex gripped a muscle spasm in her side and got a first look at Devan. She was covered from head to toe in mud, and Alex couldn’t hold back the laughter.
Devan was bent at the waste, hands on knees, and struggled to breathe. “Fine. Laugh. Have your fun, but you didn’t beat me.”
“Sorry. Can’t. Help it.” Alex sucked in a breath. “Yo
u’re always dressed so, so damn perfect. You look like…who is that boy in the Snoopy cartoons? Pig-Pen?”
“Funny, very funny.” Devan tried to let it go, knew she should let it go, but she couldn’t. She barreled toward Alex, hit her midsection, and took her to the ground. She straddled Alex, and with a wicked grin, she scooped a handful of mud from her shirt and smeared it across Alex’s cheek. “Who’s a Pig-Pen now?”
Captain McKenzie pushed through the crown and yelled, “Foul. Unsportsmanlike conduct.” He tossed a yellow flag in the air, and the crowd fell silent. “Both competitors.” He crossed his arms. “Winner will be decided by a half-mile race in five minutes.”
Devan looked down at Alex and whispered, “No way.”
“Nope. No way.” She grinned up at Devan as they both had the same idea.
McKenzie’s eyes grew wide, and the crowd began to scatter as Devan and Alex raked mud from Devan’s shirt and flung it his way.
He didn’t duck fast enough to avoid a glob of mud hitting him on the side of the head. “Foul, foul.” Alex got him square in the chest. He screamed, “I said foul, damn it.”
The crowd, at a safe distance, erupted in cheers and catcalls. Everyone had forgotten about Mara and Payton until they nudged their way to the front of the crowd. Payton barely avoided a mud bomb and gave them both a stern look. “Do you two think you can garner some semblance of dignity?”
Devan and Alex had forgotten their superior officers were present. They mumbled apologies as they struggled to their feet and attempted a contrite look, but the smirks on their faces betrayed them.
Mara’s concerns were eased as she observed Alex and Devan. They looked more relaxed than she’d seen them in weeks. She knew if they could hold, the mission would certainly run better because of it. She stepped forward and snapped, “Lieutenant Sheridan.”
Alex snapped to attention. “Yes, ma’am.” Her heart was still pounding in her chest, but now it was from trepidation more than exhaustion.
Mara stepped closer, looked Alex up and down. Her steel blue eyes held Alex’s. “Lieutenant, I believe you successfully completed your readiness qualification.” Mara reached out to shake Alex’s hand, observed the mud-covered flesh, pulled her hand back, and tucked her arms behind her back. “Congratulations, Lieutenant.”
Alex’s face exploded with a beaming grin. “Thank you, ma’am. Thank you very much.”
Someone from the crowd shouted, “The loser was supposed to buy a round of beers at the Double Tap. Who’s buying?”
Alex and Devan instantaneously pointed to the other and said in unison, “She is.”
Mara turned to Randell when moans echoed from the crowd. “Sergeant, I’m sure some of that gambling money you’re holding on to could buy a few rounds.”
He shuffled his massive six-foot-three-inch frame from foot to foot and looked down at his colonel. “Ma’am?” He searched the crowd for support, but everyone looked anywhere but at him. His baritone voice suddenly toned nearer to alto when he squeaked his response. “We… well…you see, we…”
She looked at the bulge in his pocket from the wadded bills. “How much money do you think you have in there, Sergeant?”
He swallowed a lump in his throat and gave the soldiers around him a scathing glare. “Umm, a couple grand, maybe a little more, ma’am.”
The top of Mara’s head didn’t even clear his shoulders, but she had the freight train of a man virtually cowering. She tipped her head back and simply smiled up at him. “Buy one round for all these generous contributors.” Then she gave him a motherly pat on the arm. “And donate the rest to our Christmas fund for the children of fallen soldiers.” The crowd moaned in frustration, and she fought against a chuckle when she heard Payton snort a laugh from behind her.
Defeated, Randell nodded. “Yes, ma’am.”
She and Payton turned to make their way through the crowd. “Oh, and, Sergeant? Don’t forget to send the receipt for the donation to my office.” She laughed and called back over her shoulder as they walked away, “I can already hear the squeals of delight from the children on Christmas morning.”
The building looked like a shiny black monolith standing tall and fearless among the smaller structures surrounding it. The Integrated Cyber Command Center could be seen from the expressway circling the base. It was a constant reminder that, inside, the hard-working employees of the U.S. government were toiling daily to protect its citizens from terrorists trying to bomb them from existence and cyber bandits trying to rob them blind or steal their identities.
It housed what once was the National Security Administration. Over the years as ground warfare became cyber warfare, there needed to be a separation of power, thus the NSA and the U.S. Cyber Command joined forces, so to speak. The building was sectioned into three main areas. The NSA in one wing, Cyber Command in the opposite wing, and sitting snugly in the middle was a section that was manned by both. This new section was dubbed the Integrated Cyber Command, or ICC.
Payton met Mara and Devan in the lobby and handed each of them a badge attached to a lanyard. “Here, put these on.” She led them through the atrium. “I thought it would be easier if I met you here instead of you having to fight through a half-dozen checkpoints and traverse this god-awful maze alone.”
Mara slipped the lanyard over her neck. “Thanks. The last time I was in this building, the security checks took longer than the meeting.”
Payton led them to a bank of elevators. When they entered, she inserted a keycard into the panel, then punched a button.
Devan watched the indicator over the door and felt the air leave her lungs when the car started to go down. She silently thanked the gods that it was only two floors underground.
They were led down another long hallway to yet another elevator―this one with a retina scanner. Once Payton leaned in and had her eye scanned, the doors slid open silently. Payton noticed the momentary hesitation as they entered the car and observed Devan, her gaze glued to the floor indicator. There was a light sheen on Devan’s face when they finally stopped on B6. “I had no idea the building was mostly underground.”
Payton chuckled. “The outward appearance, while imposing, does tend to mislead.” She led them down another hall where they finally stopped in front of a reinforced doorway. She lay her hand on the palm plate and waited for the click as the doors unlocked.
Devan blew out a breath when the door opened to another long windowless hallway. “I hope you’re going to lead us out of here.”
“You’re not claustrophobic, are you?”
“I…prefer windows.”
“Then you’ll be fine, we have windows. Not real ones, mind you, but if you don’t think about it too much, you’ll think you’re on ground level.”
Devan just frowned. “How…?
“We run a feed from high-def cameras from the ground floor.” Payton couldn’t resist razzing the stoic soldier. “It keeps the analysts from contemplating the fact that we’re seventy-odd feet underground.”
Payton just smiled when Mara nudged her with an elbow. She turned into a large room halfway down the hall. It was dimly lit, and a purple glow emanated from behind panels in the ceiling. A dozen or more analysts worked at computer stations in the middle of the room, watching monitors on their desks, as well as those lining the wall.
Devan scanned the monitors on the walls as they wove their way through the operation center and into a large glass-walled conference room.
The motion detectors flipped on the lights as they crossed the threshold. “This is our briefing room. Have a seat, I’ll be with you in a moment.” Payton walked over to an analyst at one of the desks in the middle of the room.
A huge conference table that could easily seat twelve sat in the center of the room. A row of clocks lined the end wall indicating the time in different parts of the world. Beneath the clocks, a video screen spanned wall to wall.
Devan glanced at another monitor on the side wall and saw people sitting on benches i
n the courtyard they had crossed on their way into the building. The illusion caused her to relax a bit, and her pulse returned to normal. She took a seat and turned so she could see out into the operations center. “This place is massive. You said you’ve been here before?”
Mara took a seat on the opposite side of the table. “Yes.” She didn’t offer any further information. “I’m afraid the director has a wicked sense of humor.” She surveyed Devan’s face. “She isn’t aware of―” She stopped midsentence. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah, I’m fine.” Devan eyed the live feed from the courtyard and tried not to think about the small pitch-black room she’d been locked in when the team was captured on one of their first missions. After their rescue, she was told it had been two days, but it had seemed like two weeks.
To this day, when she heard a mouse in the wall or a squirrel scurrying across the rafters in the attic at night, she’d have flashbacks of those few days in Afghanistan. She couldn’t think of anything that truly frightened her, but closed-in spaces sent her brain into escape mode.
She focused on watching the activity in the operations center through the glass wall. Payton handed a file to the analyst. He nodded, turned back to the keyboard, and moments later, the wall monitors in the room lit up. Payton returned to the room and sat in the command position at the head of the table. “Alex is tied up in another meeting.” She flicked a glance at Devan. “We’ll get started, and hopefully, she can join us later.”
“I asked you both here to review the current mission plan. As you’re aware, the operative has found it difficult to get out of Moscow undetected, and the delay has―” Payton stopped when she spied Alex step into the operations center.
Alex swept into the room in a flurry. “Sorry, my last meeting ran late.”
“I was hoping you could make it.” Payton smiled at her protégé. “Come, join us.”
Even though there was ample seating, Alex took a seat beside Devan and dumped an armload of folders on the table. “Thanks for waiting.”
Devan was surprised when an analyst brought in a tray of drinks and set a Pepsi in front of her, a Mountain Dew in front of Mara and Payton, and a Diet Coke in front of Alex.