Black Operations- the Spec-Ops Action Pack

by Eric Meyer

  Kyle stared at him. The consummate politician, even in the early hours at a house fire, he was ready for the arrival of the media. He was tall, fit looking, and tanned. On his feet he wore expensive, tooled handmade boots.

  “I appreciate that, but you’ll need to find them before I do.”

  The man’s smile slid off his face. “If you’re thinking of some kind of vigilante action, you can forget it. I’m the law in this town, and we’ll deal with this by the book.”

  “Yeah?” Kyle stood only inches away from him. “Where the fuck was your book when these bastards firebombed my house?”

  He flushed but didn’t reply. In that moment, Kyle Nolan knew that he had a new priority. Despite the Police Chief’s warning, he had to find the firebombers, presumably the same guys who’d staked out the kid’s school, and finish them. There was no other way, whatever it took and no matter how long. His life had changed, and until they were dead, his family would never know any peace or security.

  Chapter Three

  Carol took Nolan by the sleeve and tried to lead him away from the confrontation, but he shook her off roughly. She stared at him, obviously hurt, and shrugged.

  “I guess you’d better take care of things. The Fire Department will need to discuss what you want done to secure the house.” She turned and smiled at her Chief of Police. “I’ll give Mr. Nolan some help with the details, Chief. There’s no need to trouble you with it.”

  He gave her an angry glance. “Yeah, well you tell him to keep out of trouble. This is police business, so make sure he knows that.”

  “I will, Chief, sure, he’ll be okay. Kyle, let’s go find the Fire Chief and let him know how you him to handle sealing up the house.”

  Nolan allowed himself to be led away.

  “Kyle, try and keep it under control,” she muttered to him. “The Chief is a total asshole. He’ll be more than happy to put you in a cell if he thinks you’re breaking the law.”

  “Instead of investigating the crime?” Nolan replied bitterly. “Some police department you work for.”

  She looked tired. “Now you understand we’re not all perfect. Hey, where will you stay tonight?” She looked up at the dawn sky, threaded with pink fingers of dawn’s early light forcing their way through the blackness. “My mistake, I guess it’s not night anymore. You look like hell, and you need somewhere to sleep.”

  “I’ll check into a motel, or one of the guys will put me up.”

  “You can stay at my place. There are even some clean clothes that’ll fit you. I mean, for now.”

  Her husband had been Navy and had died on active service in Iraq. He looked at her expression, but it was devoid of any meaning. He nodded.

  “Yeah, okay, that’d be good. Thanks.”

  “Okay. You can use the spare room if you want.”

  He looked at her, but her expression was neutral. He spent a few minutes talking to the Fire Chief, and they agreed to call a company to board up the house once the fire was doused. Carol Summers drove him to her home and made coffee. She sat opposite him, declining the space on the couch that he’d assumed she’d occupy, next to him.

  “I’ll make up the bed in the spare room while you finish your coffee. You can stay here for as long as you like. There’s a shower next to the room. I guess you’ll want to use it first. You stink of smoke.”

  “Yeah, okay, I’ll do that. It’s been something of a night.”

  “Anything you can talk about?”

  “The mission? No, but I have to contact the base. I need to tell them where I’m staying, the address and telephone number.”

  “Sure, that’s fine, use the phone while I go and make up your bed.”

  She left him, and he called the Seal base. He finally got through to a petty officer at Coronado and gave him the address. “The Platoon isn’t here at this time of the night, Chief. Oh, yeah, of course, you know that. By the way, well done last night. I hear it was a good one.”

  “Yeah, thanks. It went okay. Tell ‘em I’ll call in later.”

  He put the phone down and looked up as Carol came down the stairs.

  “It’s all ready for you. Do you want any breakfast?”

  “Are you sure? I don’t want to impose.”

  She smiled gently. “You’re not imposing. I’m happy to do anything I can. Besides, I’ve been on duty all night, so I’m pretty famished. Take a seat, and I’ll whistle up something to eat, eggs, hash browns, ham, that sort of thing okay?”

  “That’d be great, yeah.”

  She was as good as her word, and shortly they were eating and talking about the arrangements for securing the house. And the work that needed to be done.

  “Can it be repaired?” Carol asked. “It looks pretty bad.”

  “I guess so, yeah, it should be okay. I’ll call a builder later today and the insurance company as well. They should cover it all. I just thank Christ the kids weren’t in there or…”

  He stopped. They both knew he was about to say Grace. But Grace was dead.

  “I understand,” she said quietly.

  “Yeah, but that’s not the real problem.”

  “I know that. You’re worried they’ll go looking for the kids. You intend to find them and deal with them. I know that.”

  “Yes. I have to.”

  He slept through the morning after a long, hot shower. He heard the doorbell and was about to get up to answer it, but he heard the door open and someone speaking, so Carol was still at home. A few minutes later, she came up the stairs and knocked on the door of his room, but he was already half dressed.

  “It’s someone from the base, Kyle. They’re waiting downstairs.”

  “Yeah, okay, tell him I’ll be down soon. Is it one of the guys from the Platoon?”

  He wasn’t too surprised. They were bound to call around and check that everything was okay.

  “I don’t think so, no. Not from the Platoon, but he’s from the base. I’ll make some coffee.”

  “Thanks, Carol, tell him I’ll be there in a few minutes.”

  He took his time shaving, wondering who’d come calling.

  Talley, maybe, no, it was probably Vince Merano. Yeah, it had to be Vince.

  He selected clean underwear and a t-shirt and jeans she’d left for him. Thankfully they fitted. He pulled on his lightweight combat boots. They still stank of smoke.

  From the mission, or my burning house? Maybe both, but Vince won’t mind.

  He checked himself in the mirror and grinned. He looked like shit, hair still askew, and eyes bleary after the events of the night before. But what the hell, he wasn’t standing on ceremony. He sauntered down the stairs and gazed in astonishment at the visitor sitting on Carol’s couch, sipping coffee; Seal Commander Rear Admiral Drew Jacks, the man who ran the entire Seal operation at Coronado. Jacks was in his forties, short and bow-legged, but broad shouldered and rock-solid and with close cropped blonde hair. He walked around the base with a hint of a bantam swagger, but it was the swagger of pride in his men, not of boastfulness. His razor-creased working uniform was devoid of unnecessary embellishment, just the name patch, Jacks, and the insignia of a Rear Admiral on the collar, the single star and gold stripe. Despite the crisp lines of his uniform, Jacks was not known for false vanity. His uniform was a perfect fit to a hard and trim physique that was the result of constant training and long workouts.

  “Sir, I’d no idea you were here. I’d have been down sooner.” He realized that absurdly he was almost standing at attention.

  “Relax, Chief, your charming friend had kept me entertained. How are you today?”

  If that didn’t beat all, the Admiral coming here to ask after him, it was almost unheard of.

  “I’m fine, Sir, yeah. Good.”

  The Admiral looked at Carol. “He looks as if he could do with some of your coffee, Ma’am.”

  She nodded. “Of course, I’ll refill yours as well.”

  She took his cup and went into the kitchen.

 
“I gather it went well last night. You stirred our friends up a fair bit.”

  “We did, yes, Sir.”

  “Sad about the house, Chief, but at least your kids were away.”

  “Yes, they were, and I’m keeping them out of the area for now. I’ll get the house rebuilt.”

  How the hell did the Admiral find out about my house burning down? Still, I guess anything on the wires concerning the Seals finds its way to his desk.

  “I’m sure you will. The Chief of Police contacted me this morning, something about not allowing vigilantes in his town.”

  “He didn’t say anything about catching the guys responsible, I guess?”

  “No, he didn’t. I got the impression he’s not trying too hard, either. He wouldn’t be my first choice for Police Chief.”

  Nolan stayed silent.

  “Listen, Son. I know what’s going through your mind…”

  He stopped as Carol came in with two cups of coffee. She smiled at them.

  “You guys carry on. I have to get on with some chores upstairs. Call me if you need anything.”

  They watched her walk up the staircase.

  “She’s a sensible lady,” Jacks said appreciatively.

  “Her husband was Navy,” Nolan replied, “killed in Iraq, suicide bomber.”

  Jacks nodded, that explained everything. They’d all lost those they loved. This was a military town.

  “So what’re you planning to do? I mean about the characters that torched your place. I’ve looked at the files, talked to a few people, and I gather the guys that attacked your house have been nosing around for some time. Was it some sort of a revenge hit?”

  “I guess so, Admiral. As for what I’m going to do, they have to be stopped. Someone’s got to do it.”

  Jacks fixed him with a hard stare. “We’re talking about legal measures, yeah? Don’t give me any crap about breaking the law, Chief Nolan. You know I can’t condone that.”

  “Legal measures, yes, Sir!” He almost shouted the response.

  Jacks gave him a small smile. “Of course, I never thought anything different. But it’ll have to take a back seat. There’s a mission on the board that has a triple A priority. I know it’s too soon, but Bravo Platoon is slated to take it. It’s a personal request, rather than an order, but it’s one I happen to agree with.”

  Nolan was puzzled. “Asked by who, Sir?”

  “By Major General Allan Hicks, USMC, the man whose nephew, the undercover DEA man, was murdered by the Salazars. He was impressed by the way you dealt with their operation over the border, but now he wants to see this Salazar drug empire finished for good. Period. And he wants Bravo to handle it.”

  “But Sir, it’s…”

  “Listen, Chief. This scum is responsible for countless American lives lost, not just our DEA officers. Every addict who overdoses, every cop killed in the line.”

  “But…”

  “Your wife, even.”

  That stopped Nolan; Grace, his wife. Murdered during a drive-by shooting, in the wrong place at the wrong time.

  “Exactly why are you here, Sir? Shouldn’t you talk to Lieutenant Talley? He’s the platoon leader.”

  “I’ll talk to Talley later. But when I was putting all the threads together, I decided to come see you first. You’re the senior petty officer, so the Platoon hangs around you. You’re the glue that keeps it together, Chief. That’s the way the Navy works. And when I heard of this new problem with the attack on your home, I thought I’d speak to you personally. I came to ask if you’re able to give it your best shot, even though it’s so soon after the last operation, and with your house burning down and all. I want Bravo to go down to Columbia…”

  “Columbia!”

  “Columbia, that’s right, and to finish what you started in Ciudad Juarez. Personally, I’m in agreement. Although, I wouldn’t normally tolerate interference in the way the Seals are run. There’s a good argument for using one of the other platoons, but General Hicks is right. You’ve shown you can hit them hard and come out with the unit intact. You know your enemy, and that counts for a lot. I don’t need to remind you of the fallout when we take casualties, and we have to avoid that wherever possible. If you can do it, Chief, I want you to go. In which case, I’d want you to give me a promise to carry out this mission to the very limits of your abilities.”

  “But, Admiral, I always give it one hundred…”

  “No, you don’t get it, Chief. This is not a normal situation. I’m asking you to put aside your own problems for the time being and get this done. And afterwards, I’ll give you help to take down these people that pose a threat to your family. It can’t be done before then. I need you one hundred percent committed to this mission. And when you’re one hundred percent committed, that means Bravo is too. I have to know that. And you’ll have us behind you one hundred percent when you go after the scum who torched your home.”

  Nolan’s mind chewed over the permutations of what the Admiral was saying. First and foremost he was a Navy Seal. And it was fortunate that the kids were well away from San Diego and out of the firing line.

  But are they safe, really safe, even up in Santa Barbara?

  “I just don’t know how serious the threat is, Admiral. If they find out where they’ve gone, well…”

  Jacks nodded thoughtfully.

  “I’m sympathetic to your concerns. I can have NCIS keep an eye on things, and they can liaise with the local cops in Santa Barbara. We do it all the time, so it won’t raise any eyebrows. They’ll be safe, Chief Nolan, you have my word on it.”

  He felt a deep sense of relief. The Admiral’s personal intervention would be an added layer of protection for the kids.

  “Thank you, Sir, and I’ll sure give it everything I have. You can count on that.”

  “Good. Don’t forget, I’ve got a Marine Corps General staking out my office, itching like a dog with fleas to launch this mission to finish off these Salazar brothers. So I can reassure him, tell him you’re totally behind this operation?”

  “You can, Sir. We’ll nail those bastards. If it can be done, Bravo will do it.”

  Admiral Jacks gave him a satisfied nod. “I’ll pass that on, and we’ll get things underway. Bravo is due to be at operational readiness again tomorrow at 0800, and we’ll go through the briefing then. What about that cop, Detective Summers?”

  “What about her, Sir?”

  “Does she know anything?”

  “No, Sir, definitely not. You know that’s not the way we work.”

  “No. She’s a nice looking girl.”

  Nolan returned the speculative look. “She’s all of that, Sir. And there’re lots of nice looking girls in Southern California. I know. My wife was one of them. But it’s too soon after her murder to look at anyone else.”

  “Yeah, I guess you’re right, but a word of advice, Chief.”

  “Sir?”

  “Don’t leave it too long. I’ll talk to you in the morning.”

  He saw the Admiral out of the house, and when he turned around, Carol was stood in the living room.

  “He seems a nice enough guy.”

  “Admiral Jacks?” Nolan was surprised. Some people found him intimidating and aggressive, mainly aggressive. He’d been one of the mainstays of Operation Anaconda, which took place in Afghanistan during 2002. The United States military, including elements of the Navy Seals, worked with the Afghans in an action to destroy large numbers of al-Qaeda and Taliban forces. The operation took place in the Shahi-Kot Valley and Arma Mountains southeast of Zormat. It was the first large-scale battle in Afghanistan since the Battle of Tora Bora in 2001 when the US tried to capture Osama bin Laden. The operation combined conventional and Special Forces for the first time in a major action, and at the end, more than five hundred hostiles were reported killed, in return for eight US servicemen. It was a success for JSOC, Joint Special Operations Command, as it was for all the units involved. It was a success for the Navy Seals units involved, and for Ja
cks, then a Captain. His brand of aggressive fighting won him a great deal of admiration and a step on the road to his Admiral’s flag.

  “Yeah, he’s a straight shooter, but you wouldn’t want him on the opposite side. He’s as tenacious as a bulldog, a good fighter. Knows what he wants, and always gets it.” Nolan grinned. “He’s said to subscribe to General Patton’s three maxims of warfare.”

  “Yeah, what are they?”

  “Audacity, audacity, and audacity.”

  Carol nodded. “I guess that means he’s no shrinking violet.”

  “Not so as you’d notice.”

  They stared at each other for a few moments. She took a step towards him. “You’re going back into the field soon, aren’t you? That’s why he was here.”

  He felt cold, but something more, too. “Carol, you know I…”

  “Dammit, Kyle, I know you can’t talk about it. Are you going or not?”

  “Yes, we’re being briefed tomorrow morning. It’s a continuation of, well, something we started and needs to be finished.”

  “You mean a lot to me, Kyle Nolan. I don’t want you to get hurt.”

  The perennial problem of servicemen on the battlefront the world over, the women they left behind. But she wasn’t his woman.

  “I won’t get hurt. Besides, you’re a cop, and your job takes you into danger some of the time. I wouldn’t want you hurt either.”

  “You mean that?”

  Their faces were only inches apart. He smelled her perfume, the faint, spicy musk of her body. Saw the freckles, and the half-hidden scar.

  God, she’s pretty.

  Of course he didn’t want her hurt. She’d done a lot for him, and she’d stepped forward when no one else was interested. His mind dissolved into a numbed confusion. They swayed towards each other, their lips met, and they were kissing; a passionate embrace, and like the unexpected onset of a violent storm, it took them both by surprise with the strength of its sheer, elemental power. He held her to him and felt her arms holding him tight to her. He pulled away, but only for breath.