Into the Bayou

by George West

  Agent Reyes walked over to Adam. The door was all the way down now, and the wind was blowing in her face.

  “Hey, you better not fuck this up!”

  “Now, that’s the unpleasant DHS agent I remember,” replied Adam.

  A red light soon appeared near the rear of the plane. The team strapped on their oxygen masks. The anticipation was killing Adam and he felt relieved when he saw the red light change to green. As he jumped out of the plane, the adrenaline rushed through his body, and he felt better than he had in months.

  “Fuck this. I’m not going anymore!” screamed Clark.

  “Too late!” replied Hunter. Reaper 3 jumped out of the plane with the computer guy strapped to his chest.

  Chapter 3

  The sun beamed down on the small city. Street vendors filled the tiny streets, haggling to sell their day’s harvest of bananas and cassava. The locals wore beaten up, dirty clothing while they walked along dirt roads. Houses and apartments stacked on top of each other.

  Katherine Shaw strolled along the streets alone wearing khaki pants and a white blouse. Her Aviators and ball cap helped cover her face from prying eyes.

  She stopped at a street vendor’s hawker. A tiny old man was selling plantains. Katherine pretended to browse while she stared at the café across the street. She continued to scope out the café while she waited. Soon, a large man entered. That was her cue. The man she spotted wore a button-down shirt, long dress pants, and a beige fedora. He sat down at a table on the patio. Katherine strolled over to the man’s table, glancing to the left and right of her position. She immediately slid into the empty chair across the table from the man.

  “It’s quite hot outside,” said Katherine.

  “A beer will help with that,” replied the man.

  Katherine felt satisfied and took her baseball cap off. A moment later, a waiter carried a tray with two cups of coffee to their table.

  “I apologize, but I took it upon myself to order us both a cup of coffee. Some of the best coffee beans in the world grow in Haiti. You must try it,” insisted the man.

  Katherine took a sip and slightly smiled at the wonderful taste. “All right, enough with the small talk.”

  “Fine, fine. You Americans are always so direct, never indulging in life's gifts.”

  “General Pérez, what do you have for me?”

  “Like I told your colleagues over the phone, I will not give you any information until I am provided with safe passage to the United States.”

  “I don’t give a fuck how important you think you may be, but you are in no position to make demands. Either you give me some information right now or I walk, and we never see each other again.”

  The general took another sip of coffee while he pondered his next move. “Okay, what do you want to know?”

  Katherine placed her coffee down. “Icarus.”

  “It wasn’t us. We did not fire those nukes.”

  “Okay, this is bullshit. I’m gone.” Katherine started to stand up from the table.

  “Wait, wait. I swear we did not fire those nukes. We don’t even have control of the Icarus satellite. Honestly, my colleagues are convinced that your government is behind this latest incident,” responded the general.

  “So, what? Nuclear bombs just randomly fell from the sky?”

  “I have no idea who fired those nuclear bombs, but have you checked with your own government?” inquired the general.

  “My government doesn’t have control of Icarus. That’s why I am here,” replied Katherine.

  “Oh, really? So, someone as low on the totem pole as you would know everything that goes on within your government?”

  “General Pérez, why are you doing this? Why have you chosen to betray your own country?”

  “Country? What country? Brazil doesn’t exist anymore. It’s now under the thumb of the Global Alliance. This new regime doesn’t care about my people. They only care about molding the world the way they see fit!”

  “So then why do you want to defect to the United States? Our nation has been gutted by your regime's military strikes since the beginning of this war. Why would you want to switch to the losing side?”

  “Because, my dear, the Global Alliance is not as strong as it looks. Maybe it looks like a stronghold from the outside, but there is a lot of conflict boiling within. All of these countries have banded together to destroy the United States and its allies. However, there are too many cultural and political differences within this regime. The G.A. will not survive for much longer. They will soon turn on each other.”

  “Thank you for your big-picture wisdom of the future, but I still need some credible intel before I provide safe passage.”

  “Like I said before: we do not have control of the Icarus satellite. We thought Dr. Eris was the key to unlocking Icarus, but he didn’t know anything. So, after interrogating the scientist, we killed him and put an operative in his place before allowing your government to rescue him. We instructed him to kill your lead scientist, Dr. Oppenheim.”

  “I lost a lot of friends because of that stunt you pulled. I almost lost my own life!” said Katherine.

  “Well, you look healthy as ever, my dear,” replied Pérez.

  “That’s because I killed your operative.”

  The general looked surprised and even a little scared after hearing Katherine’s remark.

  “General, I will provide you with safe passage to my country, but you will give me more intel on the Global Alliance, or I will throw you back to wolves that you have betrayed,” asserted Katherine.

  “Understood.”

  Katherine and the general stood up from the table and headed down the block to a car that awaited them. As the two approached the vehicle, Katherine noticed something odd.

  “Why is the car not running?” mused Katherine.

  “What do you mean?” asked Pérez.

  “My driver has clear instructions to keep the engine running. General, stay here.”

  Katherine slowly approached the driver’s side door. She saw her driver and immediately pulled out her Glock and turned around to grab the general, but she was too late. General Pérez fell to his knees, grasping his neck as blood poured down his chest. Before Kat could process what was happening, she felt a jolt of electricity surge through her body. She fell to the ground, unconscious. A tall man holding a Taser stood above her lifeless body.

  A truck screeched to a halt alongside the curb and two Haitian men jumped out. They carried Kat's body to the vehicle and tossed her in the bed of the truck.

  Chapter 4

  Everything was dark.

  Adam Dawkins and the rest of Reaper team were tied to chairs with bags over their heads. Everyone was silent except for Clark Stevenson, whose heavy breathing filled the room. After three hours of being tied to the chairs, Adam’s bag was finally taken off his head.

  “I assume you are the leader. Who are you, and what were you doing in our swamp?” questioned the man.

  “Well, Major Gandler, I was actually looking for you,” replied Adam.

  “What G.A. regiment are you apart of? The 23rd infantry?”

  “Listen major, I know you have a job to protect your men, but you are wasting my time.”

  The interrogator punched the team leader in the face. Adam felt the full impact of the man's fist. Its force knocked Dawkins to the ground. Adam spit out a mouth full of blood and took a breather until the blur in his eyes disappeared.

  “I am Adam Dawkins, and this is my team. Code-named Reaper. Stop wasting my fucking time!”

  Another soldier entered the room and whispered into the major’s ear. Adam noticed his jaw drop slightly. The major and the other soldier pulled out their knives and stepped towards Adam and the rest of Reaper team. Dawkins wasn’t sure what was about to happen. He soon felt the tightness disappear from his wrists. The other soldier continued to take the bags off the rest of Reaper team and cut them free of their zip ties. The major stuck out his hand to Adam and h
e allowed the major to help him up from the ground.

  “I apologize for the aggressive security measures, but like you said, I must protect my men.”

  As soon as the major finished his sentence, Adam returned a right-hook that made contact with the man's left cheek. As the major hit the floor, the other soldier pulled out his sidearm. Immediately after spotting the weapon, John Dawkins grabbed the soldier’s hand and bent his wrist. The pistol fell to the floor while John proceeded to slam the soldier into the ground.

  “It’s okay major, I completely understand,” replied Adam.

  The major slowly stood up from the ground with blood flowing from his nose and mouth. He realized that his fellow soldier was on the floor with a knife pressed against his throat.

  “Please, there is no need for bloodshed. Central Command just sent me the encrypted message of your arrival. I had no idea," pleaded Major Gandler.

  “Like I said, it’s okay.” Adam stuck out his hand towards the major while John released the blade off the soldier’s carotid.

  “Let’s try this again. I am Adam Dawkins, and these are members of Reaper team."

  “I want to apologize again, but I must protect…”

  Adam interjected. “Major Gandler, it’s okay. It’s in the past. Get me up to speed on the situation.”

  Reaper team followed the major out of the room where they were held and into a living room. Several men sat at tables with laptops. Pictures of military installations and naval ships were pinned to a board in the center of the room.

  “Obviously, you all didn’t see any of this on the way in, but this is our tactical operations center. We discovered this house vacant and made it our own. It’s old, but from a strategic standpoint, it’s incredible. Grass hills surrounding us in all directions with a 360-degree line of sight. A swamp is located less than a klick from our position. It serves as our emergency exfil route."

  The major pointed out towards the trees. It was quite a spectacle. The view from the living room displayed trees in all directions with moss hanging from the branches.

  As the team continued touring the house, they noticed several bedrooms. Canvas cots, photos of family, and outdated sports magazines covered the floors. The guys strolled further down the corridor to the library. The once-elegant room had been converted into an armory. Tufted furniture was thrown out and replaced with an excess supply of weapons: M4s, Glocks, Kevlar vests, and Claymores filled the room. Grenades replaced the books on the shelves. Only two books remained: The Art of War and Plato's The Republic.

  “Ah, finally. I missed my kids,” announced John as he entered the armory. The members of Reaper team found their weapons and gear. Clark spotted his backpack full of computer gear behind a box of fragmentation grenades.

  “Thank God!”

  “You have got to be kidding me. You are glad your computers are fine? I’m glad we got our weapons back,” stated Hunter.

  “Just so you know, we’ll need my computers later on this mission,” replied Clark.

  “Yeah, right. We will definitely need my M4 though.”

  The team followed Major Gandler out to the backyard. Soldiers sat around a campfire drinking coffee and cleaning their weapons.

  “Meet my men. These soldiers are the rest of ODA 596, 5th Special Forces Group,” announced Gandler. The SF soldiers looked up at the members of Reaper team and just nodded as a slight gesture.

  “My men are becoming restless. They haven’t conducted a direct-action mission in weeks. Central Command has ordered my men to stand down during these ridiculous cease fire negotiations.”

  “Trust me, we understand,” replied Adam.

  Clark Stevenson gazed at all the soldiers. Men hung around the fire cleaning their barrels with oil. He noticed that every man had a beard and was more muscular than he thought possible. Some of the soldiers wore sleeveless shirts that revealed an assortment of tattoos covering their arms. One of the men shot a glance toward Clark and the IT guy immediately rotated his head to avoid eye contact. Hunter strolled over beside Clark.

  “Don’t worry, they won’t bite. They only eat snakes."

  One of the soldiers stood up from the fire and walked over to Adam and the rest of the team. The man wore a sleeveless shirt and a cowboy hat. The soldier was at least 6’4.

  “This is Staff Sergeant Byron; he’s our unit's weapons sergeant.

  “It’s a pleasure to meet y’all. I got some coffee brewing over the fire. Y’all boys are welcome to some,” announced the staff sergeant.

  Adam shook the soldier's hand. “I’m Adam Dawkins and these guys are the rest of my team.”

  John and Hunter grabbed some coffee and chatted with the Special Forces guys.

  “All right, major. Let’s discuss why we are here,” said Adam.

  The members of Reaper team followed Major Gandler and Staff Sergeant Byron into the TOC.

  “We are looking for a hacker somewhere near the town of Lacombe close to the Port of New Orleans,” explained Adam.

  "What's the objective?" asked Gandler.

  "Classified," responded Adam.

  “What’s the hacker’s name?”

  “We have no idea. DHS tracked a signal that originated near this town,” explained Adam.

  “That’s not much to go on. Brief me on the target package so we can get the ball rolling on this op,” replied Gandler.

  "Target Package is classified," interjected John Dawkins.

  Major Gandler slammed both fists on the table. "What the hell is this? I'm the commanding officer at this FOB and I demand some answers!"

  “Major, my team answers only to the top at Central Command, so whatever answers you "demand" will not be answered. Understood?"

  Major Gandler looked around the room deciding whether to help these guys out or just leap across the table at Adam. "Fine. You don't know this hacker's name or his location. What do you know, Dawkins?"

  "This person knows computers better than anyone in this part of the country. I’d bet he’s a loner. Probably doesn't fit in with the crowd," interjected Clark .

  The major quickly turned his head and stared at Clark Stevenson up and down. Gandler observed Clark's skinny frame and the lack of weapons strapped to his body.

  “I’m sorry. Who the hell is this guy?”

  “This is our intel specialist,” explained Adam.

  “You brought along an analyst behind enemy lines?" Gandler turned his attention toward Clark again. "Son, do you realize where you are?"

  “Trust me. We need him,” interjected Adam.

  The major rolled his eyes in confusion. “I can’t help you, but I know someone that can. Her name is Jessica Boudreaux. She's a local civilian. Owns a bar near the town where you are searching. Ms. Boudreaux is one of our assets. She's provided us with intel on G.A. troop activity in the area,” explained Gandler.

  Sergeant Byron stepped forward. “I can take y’all to her, but the Port of New Orleans is controlled by the Global Alliance. There is a heavy concentration of soldiers and MPs patrolling that area, so y'all are going to have to blend in with the civilian population.”

  Chapter 5

  The sun shone directly above the town. Lacombe, Louisiana sat on the water overlooking the Port of New Orleans. Naval ships covered the bay while soldiers patrolled the streets of the small town. There wasn’t anything that stood out about the place other than the church and town hall being the tallest buildings in town. Global Alliance propaganda covered the billboards. It was surreal to see the old town covered with the newly-posted propaganda. Images of a globe were plastered onto the billboards with the words: Global Alliance inscribed above the globe. Poles that once flew the American flag now flew the various flags of the countries that comprised the occupational force. The slight breeze made the Pakistani, Chinese, and Russian flags waver.

  Reaper team rolled up in front of the only bar in town: Polly's. The team parked across the street from the bar. They piled into an old Chevy Tahoe.

 
“Damn, even under enemy controlled territory, a bar is still open before lunch,” said Hunter.

  Staff Sergeant Byron was in the driver’s seat. “Hell, this is the best time for a bar to be open. In the middle of a fucking war.”

  “All right, Ms. Boudreaux is in that bar. Ask her for a shot of Woodford,” instructed Byron.

  “What does she look like?” asked Adam.

  “Trust me, you’ll know when you see her.”

  Adam and John Dawkins started to exit the vehicle.

  “What are the rules of engagement?” asked Byron.

  Adam smiled. “I have no idea what the fuck you are talking about.”

  Adam and John walked towards the bar. They wore light-weight, button-down shirts and khakis. The only indication that they weren’t civilians were their combat boots. As they walked through the entrance of Polly's, everyone looked up for a moment then stared back at their beers. There was a surprising number of patrons in the bar during this time of the day.

  “It looks like a lot of people were laid off since the invasion,” laughed John.

  The brothers approached the bar and took a seat. Adam realized what Byron meant. He gazed at a woman changing out a keg behind the bar. She had dirty blonde hair with a nice tan from the Southern Louisiana sun. She had a lean body and wore cowboy boots with jean shorts. The woman eventually approached the two brothers.

  “What are y’all having?”

  “Two beers,” replied Adam.

  The woman started to pour them two glasses.

  “Actually, you know what. My brother and I are also feeling a couple shots of your best whiskey. Do you have Woodford?”

  After hearing those words, Ms. Boudreaux stopped pouring the beers for a moment and scanned the bar. “Sorry, we haven’t had that type of bourbon since the invasion." After placing the beers in front of Adam and John, she looked up. “Who the fuck are y’all?”

  Adam took a sip of beer and grinned with slight satisfaction. “We’re your new best friends.”