The Trigger Mechanism

by Scott McEwen

  “Ken, thank god you’re here,” the SecDef mumbled to Ken as he drove her down the dirt path in Avi’s personal Gator—a fifteen-thousand-dollar golf cart—slinging mud the whole way. “This place has been getting rubber-stamped, and it’s time for some accountability.”

  “Yes.” Ken nodded. “Eye opening, to say the least.” From a physical standpoint, Ken was the polar opposite of his boss—male, thick build, blazing red mustache. But his voice had the thin, weaselly pitch of the brown-nosing sycophants all too common on Capitol Hill.

  “But I’ve just got too much on my plate,” she said. “Encyte is running a tour de force of terror, half of my home state is in flames. I don’t have time to deal with this. I may need you to stay behind.”

  “You got it, boss,” Ken said as the cart bumped down the path behind Eldon’s.

  “Hope I’m not staying to babysit,” the Samoan cop chimed in. Weighing down the back of the Gator was Tui, Elaine’s general henchman and occasional bodyguard. Born and raised in Memphis, the only thing exotic about Tui was his name. A repo man turned cop, Tui saw possibilities of upward mobility in government, so he left his Southern barbecue behind and headed for D.C.

  “No, Tui. You’re coming back with me. I have a feeling there won’t be much to see here once we leave.”

  After a quick inspection of the firing range and munitions depot and a tour of the weapons storage facility in the Caldera led by a disgruntled Cass, the SecDef leaned back in the Gator, clicking her teeth, thinking. “Commander Waanders,” she said with eerie calm. “An hour at your camp, and I feel like I’m visiting the DEVGRU compound in Oceana.”

  “Well, that’s no accident,” Eldon said, happy for any comparison to SEAL Team Six. “That’s the goal. Our facility, training, and safety protocols at Valor are modeled after the Virginia Beach compound.”

  “With one major exception,” she said with an acidic grin. “No children.”

  Eldon bit his tongue. “Who’s getting hungry?”

  After a full spread of hamburgers, baked beans, and home fries (which Ken Carl declined because there wasn’t a vegetarian option), it was time for a kitchen inspection.

  “Well, we try to grow whatever food here we can,” Mum said, nervously. “These kids eat a lot, so it helps to source what we can.”

  “Peanut oil,” Ken Carl said lifting up the jug.

  “For the potatoes,” Mum said with pride. “Makes it so the oil flavor isn’t so overbearing.” She smiled.

  “Well, that’s an allergy hazard. Kids these days, everyone is allergic.”

  “There’s an EpiPen in the first aid kit,” Mum pointed out, wringing her hands on her apron.

  “And you are sure to use it,” Ken chided, “with the slack food safety and all the peanut products you are using.”

  “Look, I’ve been running this kitchen for forty years. I’ve yet to have a camper die from dry goods,” Mum tried to joke.

  “You’re right,” the SecDef snapped. “I think we should be more worried about the C-4 in the Caldera.”

  Mum geared up for a retort, but Eldon stepped in. “Point taken, Madam Secretary. We’ll address that. Thank you for pointing it out.”

  * * *

  After lunch, the SecDef asked to observe a training exercise. “Sure,” Eldon said, scrambling to change the daily schedule, “let’s head to the beach.”

  “Wait,” Ken said, pointing across the lodge to the chalkboard on the wall. “The day’s flight plan says ‘HALO jumping, Group-As & Rovers, Caldera.’ Why don’t we stick with that?”

  “Thought you guys might want to see some canoeing. Maybe a swim test?” Eldon offered.

  “No, Ken’s right.” Elaine pivoted on her red heels. “We’re here as silent observers. I insist you go about the day as planned.”

  So the Gators sped to the airstrip, where Viktoria was impatiently waiting to demonstrate parachute jumping to middle schoolers. Eldon, having no time to forewarn his senior staff of the importance of the observers, hoped that by some miracle Viktoria would deviate from her typical Ukrainian bluntness and decide to sugarcoat.

  But as soon as he saw her in her Costas and full flight suit, Eldon knew there wasn’t a chance.

  “Today, campers, we’re going to be performing what’s known as the HALO jump,” Viktoria said. “This exercise used to be reserved for older campers, but since we’ve found the skill set crucial to so many missions, we’ve decided to include it in junior camper training so they’ll have years to perfect it. As Group-As will attest, there’s safety in numbers, so we’ll be jumping tandem. Now, anyone know what ‘HALO’ stands for?”

  Mary Alice’s hand shot up. “High altitude—low opening.”

  “Right. And any idiot on spring break can jump from an airplane, but this technique is different. In a typical HALO exercise, the parachutist free-falls until terminal velocity, at which time the chute flies open, sometimes at altitudes as low as twenty-five hundred feet AGL, depending on the mission.”

  Samy scratched his head. “AGL?”

  “Above ground level, dum dum,” Mary Alice said under her breath.

  “All right, know-it-all little bi—” Samy joked.

  “If you’re gonna be an A, start doing your homework.”

  “Enough.” Viktoria eyed the SecDef as she stood arms crossed on the hill just beyond them. “The purpose of this kind of jump is twofold. As you know, we are often sent to hard-to-reach places. Many times you’ll be jumping with cargo, or into the ocean with your Zodiac. High downward speed, minimal forward airspeed, and carrying only small amounts of metal will deter radar detection, allowing for a stealthy insertion. Likewise, the low release minimizes the risk of midair targeting.”

  “So it’s less time for us to hang up there like sitting ducks?” Rayo chimed in.

  “Yes. And while this activity might seem easy enough from a physical standpoint, it’s not. At thirty-five thousand feet—six thousand feet above the peak of Mt. Everest—the air is a balmy negative-fifty degrees. At those temps, it’s not uncommon for goggles to shatter … I’ve even heard of jumpers whose eyes have frozen shut.”

  At this, Wyatt looked over at Cody, who stared catatonically into the sky, the excitement drained from his face.

  “Are you listening, Brewer?” Viktoria said to Cody.

  “Yes, ma’am.” Cody shook from his stupor.

  “In flight, you’ll breathe several minutes of one hundred percent oxygen. This will prep you for the jump and help you avoid the bends. Hypoxia is a risk and blackouts are possible, so a device called a CYPRES”—Viktoria held out a small sensor with two black cords attached—“will ensure the chute opens even if you, and your partner, black out.”

  “Okay.” She clapped her hands together. “I’ll be going over the mechanics again once we’re in flight, but remember, this requires extreme focus and execution. Do it wrong,” she said, still smiling, “and you’ll be flatter than a crepe.”

  “Man, I’d love some crepes right now.” Samy rubbed his belly.

  “Pair up, and we’ll begin suiting up.”

  “Lieutenant Kuokalas,” Wyatt said. “Don’t you think it makes more sense to pair older campers with younger ones, you know, put the experienced with the inexperienced for this one? I mean, the Junior Rovers and Mounties, they just got here…”

  “Yes, Wyatt,” Viktoria said. “We’ll follow the safety protocol as always. I’ll be taking us only up to around twenty-five thousand feet today, and the CYPRES units are already in place…”

  “This is the first time up for a lot of these kids, so I’m just wondering if we should jump the first time…” Wyatt, now unable to hide his exasperation, knew he was drawing attention, maybe even from the SecDef.

  “Wyatt.” Viktoria pulled her sunglasses down. “Would you like to lead this exercise?”

  Wyatt shook his head. “It’s just that … Cody can’t do this. He’s afraid of heights.”

  “Wyatt, what’s your problem?” Cody’s fr
eckled cheeks reddened. “I can do this, same as anybody else!”

  “Very good, then,” Viktoria said, turning toward the C-130, its engines already whirring. “Wyatt, since you are so concerned, why don’t you be the one to brief everyone before they jump?”

  “Roger that,” Wyatt said, and the campers filed in behind Viktoria and the heavy door slammed closed.

  The C-130 taxied down the short runway, getting to the end of the pavement. They made a 180-degree turn in the opposite direction, and several jet blast deflectors popped up from the flat surface of the tarmac. Viktoria maxed out the turbo prop jet engines for an appreciable period, going to max power before releasing the brakes of the plane to begin takeoff.

  Wyatt looked over at the young campers as the plane began to shake. Some clenched their eyes shut, others were wide eyed with terror. He counted in his head: ten, nine, eight, seven …

  One. The plane jerked, throwing the campers backward in their seats.

  “This is normal,” Wyatt tried to say above the noise. He knew CJ had simultaneously engaged four JATO (jet-assisted takeoff) rockets attached to the sides of the C-130, hence the deafening roar. Though it wasn’t uncommon in short runway takeoffs, JATOs were the closest thing to being on a NASA rocket that actually landed on its wheels at the end of the ride. Wyatt looked at his brother. “Here goes your first rodeo,” he said as the plane climbed higher and higher into the wide, blue sky.

  CHAPTER 25

  The ascent to twenty-five thousand feet would take several minutes. During the climb, as per protocol, the campers breathed pure oxygen and listened while Viktoria prepped them for the jump. She had warned them that the plane would be bumpy due to summer turbulence, but for Jalen, the bumps were less eventful than the JATO rocket “rush” on takeoff.

  “Okay,” Viktoria yelled out the instructions. “Essentially two campers will be locked together back to front. The Group-A camper will be riding behind—and then on top—of a camper in training. Cody, how ’bout you pair with me?”

  Cody’s face reddened again, but he nodded, and Wyatt breathed a visible sigh of relief.

  Wyatt had been so worried about his little brother, but it was Jalen who really had a fear of heights. He stared at the other Rovers, searching for inspiration in their eyes, as they began strapping into all the harnesses necessary to do a tandem HALO jump. Once they were geared up in their jumpsuits, they began strapping onto one another.

  “This procedure is crucial,” Wyatt said, taking the lead as Viktoria had asked him to. “Any mistakes, obviously, can be fatal.”

  “All good, partner,” Samy said to Jalen, double-checking the clasps.

  Jalen could not see Samy’s face at this point, as the older camper was clipped to his back like a turtle’s carapace.

  “It’s so cool, dude,” Samy said, “Trust me, you’re gonna love it!”

  “Approaching twenty-five thousand feet!” Wyatt shouted. “Final prep!”

  Jalen felt as if his own heart was humming with the plane’s engine.

  “Just breathe,” Wyatt said to Jalen before his mouth disappeared behind the oxygen mask. “Breathe.”

  Jalen situated the mask on his face and took a deep breath, hoping the oxygen would travel to every cell in his being and stop his body from shaking. Final gear check began, each camper confirming the other was suited up correctly.

  “Tuck that in!” Mary Alice barked at the goth-looking Rover named Sara. “You can’t have anything hanging off your suit.”

  The jump light in the cargo hold was still glowing red, but Wyatt motioned the group to move down the ramp toward the wide opening in the rear of the aircraft. In order for them to land on the island, they’d have to jump from the aircraft nearly simultaneously. Jalen watched as the light from the rear ramp opening began to infiltrate the interior of the cargo hold. The wind, and the negative-fifty-degree temperature, came rushing in.

  “Oh my god,” Jalen screamed into his mask. Even with a jumpsuit on, it was like diving into ice water.

  Wyatt looked at the group and gave an encouraging thumbs-up to all, and Jalen raised a gloved thumb in return. The rear deck was now completely open, and the jumpers waddled toward the void like crabs, strapped to one another.

  The red light above the opening flicked green.

  “Go time!” Viktoria yelled as she and Cody stepped off into the wild blue yonder.

  “We good?” Jalen asked as they moved toward the whirring vacuum of air. “Samy?”

  Jalen got no reply. He looked at Wyatt’s face as he dropped off the edge, and instantly, he knew something was very wrong.

  * * *

  “Samy, Samy, can you hear us?” Viktoria stood over the teenager, holding the oxygen mask in place.

  Samy smiled and gave a thumbs-up as some volunteers carried him away on a stretcher.

  Once the kid had been whisked off to the medical ward for observation, Eldon knew the afternoon exercises were only going to make matters worse. He’d tried to explain to the SecDef that Samy’s exciting HALO jump was actually an example of Valor at its finest: “We teach good skills, so that even if the exercise goes south, these kids are able to think on their feet.”

  “Yes, and this camper who suffered hypoxia, did anyone care to inquire what his recreational habits are at home? Did anyone bother to ask what he does the rest of the year, nine months of vaping and the hookah lounge? No wonder his lungs couldn’t take it.”

  “You make a good point,” Eldon said. “I respectfully note that. But Wyatt was right there. And had he not been there to assist Jalen with the chute, the CYPRES unit would have ensured it would have deployed … We do have protocol in place, Madam SecDef. Now, where should we go next?”

  Ken held out his notepad, upon which he’d scribbled the schedule he saw in the lounge.

  “Lifting the hood?” Elaine said, her eyebrows making a near perfect V. “It says it’s to be conducted in the kill house.”

  “Yes.” Eldon winced. “Right this way.”

  For the SecDef’s viewing pleasure, this time it was Wyatt in the hot seat, hood over his head in the close-quarters arms training facility in the Caldera.

  “So today is all about instincts,” Cass began. She circled stealthily around Wyatt, up on her toes like something from the genus Panthera. “Your gut.” She placed her nubby arm on her stomach. “The object of the exercise is to present the camper with a surprise scenario—a threat, a harmless passerby—and the trainee must react appropriately, having little time to think. Decision-making, reaction time, and close-quarters combat will all be tested. Since it is your third take with this exercise, we will be using firearms.”

  “Ah, Cass.” Eldon raised his hand. “No arms today.”

  “Well, then, what’s the point of the exercise?”

  Eldon gave her a stand-down glare.

  “Fine. So Wyatt will be demonstrating his martial arts skills and hand-to-hand combat. Are we ready?”

  “Ready,” Wyatt gave a muffled response and Cass pulled the hood from his head.

  The other four Group-A members came charging at Wyatt, in padded suits, wielding padded weapons. Wyatt, recognizing the threat, immediately assumed an athletic stance. Mary Alice came first, swinging the stick, and Wyatt moved to the right, dodging the blow and kneeing her in the chest. Wyatt uppercut her lip, and MA dropped, blood splurting, but Wyatt pivoted, ready to take the next charging camper when the SecDef popped to her feet.

  “Stop,” the SecDef screamed. “Stop the drill!”

  “Halt!” Eldon held his hands up. “Team Z, stand down.” He turned to the SecDef. “Is there an issue?”

  “Is there an issue?” Elaine echoed in disbelief. “Sir, follow me.” The fabric of her pantsuit whisked as she charged out of earshot of the rest of the group.

  “My god, this is insane. Completely insane. This program is going to be suspended until we can have a more thorough review.”

  “Madam Secretary,” Eldon said. “With all due respect,
we cannot just shut this down. Camp Valor serves a vital role in U.S. security. Countless lives have been saved by this program, including my own.”

  “They’re kids. And last year, two of them died. Not to mention the senior staff member who also perished.”

  “That’s correct,” Eldon said solemnly. “This is a high-risk unit that sees a tremendous amount of action. It’s why we are successful.”

  “At what cost?” She turned away. “Ken, Tui, come over here!”

  Ken came running over like a lapdog, the henchman lumbering behind him.

  “Mr. Director, I’m putting Camp Valor on indefinite suspension, and I’m leaving my chief of staff to make sure my wishes are enforced. You should know that until otherwise informed, there will be absolutely zero military training at this camp. No fighting, no arms, no bomb-making, no defensive, offensive, or tactical training of any kind. There will be no campers allowed into the Caldera. They’ll be confined to the camp itself and its environs. My hope is this secret training nonsense will be forever stifled, but until further review, there won’t be any activity resembling what I’ve seen today.”

  “May I have a word in private?” Eldon asked.

  Elaine shot Ken and Tui a glance, and the two stepped away. “Make it quick.”

  “Ma’am.” Eldon lowered his voice. “This is a massive mistake. The last five SecDefs who have visited our grounds—all of them would have engaged Valor to help hunt Encyte. Suspending the program right now is like taking the bullets out of your best gun, plugging the barrel, and putting a red plastic cap on the end of it.”

  “Mr. Director, if I hear of these campers doing anything more dangerous than hiking trails and lanyard making, so help me I will ship them all back to jail where they belong … I might even send you with them.”

  “Roger that,” Eldon said, teeth gritted. He turned to Avi. “Shut down all training. Immediately.”

  CHAPTER 26

  That evening, Eldon tried to put on a good face and for the second time that summer as he called the campers, candidates, and staff together for a postdinner meeting. But this time as he spoke, instead of Avi or Cass standing next to him, there was a tall, mustached man hovering over his shoulder with a snarky grin.