The Shield

by Ken Fite

  “You’re bleeding out,” I continued. “I can get you to a hospital, but first I want some answers, okay?”

  Silence. The guy just looked past me and stared up at Willis. He had a strange expression on his face.

  “Do you work for a man named Omar Malik?” asked Willis from behind me.

  The guy made no reply.

  “Why’d you come here?” I asked.

  The man’s eyes remained fixed on Willis. He opened his mouth. Tried to put words together, but blood started gushing out. He turned his head to the side and spit, then stared away blankly.

  “You’re bleeding out,” I said again. “Please tell me where I can find Omar Malik, and we’ll call for help.”

  The man made no reply. Willis stepped forward. Crouched down on one knee and rested the muzzle of his weapon on the guy’s forehead. “Last chance,” he said. “Tell us where he is and we’ll get you to a hospital.”

  He said nothing. Just turned his head and stared at me. Looked like he wanted to tell me something, but couldn’t. Either because he didn’t want to or maybe wasn’t able to. He opened his mouth, and more blood spilled out of it. Willis leaned in closer, waiting for the dying man to answer his question.

  “You’re not going to talk to us, are you?” said Willis as I stayed crouched, watching the two men interact.

  The guy shifted his eyes and stared at him. Made no reply. Just hesitated, then spit blood on Willis’s face.

  Willis smiled. Wiped it away with the back of his free hand. Nodded to himself and stood up tall.

  Then he aimed his weapon straight down and fired another shot.

  I was still crouched next to the guy when he did it. It startled me. I looked up at Willis. He was still aiming the weapon at the man. A haze of white smoke drifted up between us. “There’s your hospital,” said Willis.

  TWENTY-NINE

  I STAYED CROUCHED and stared up at Willis.

  “The guy wasn’t going to talk,” he said and holstered his weapon. “You know how these people work.”

  I glanced back down, trying to understand who the guy was and why he was here. “That was a mistake,” I said. “You should know better. We have no other leads. We could’ve used him to help us find Omar Malik.”

  “Never would’ve happened,” said Willis. “He wouldn’t have talked.”

  I stood up. “I would’ve made him talk.”

  Willis stepped forward and grabbed my throat in one quick motion. He pushed me back and I hit my head on the wall. He tightened his grip and I grabbed his arm. “This isn’t your operation, Jordan,” he replied.

  I moved fast and hit his forearm. Willis released his grip and I stared at him. “What’s your problem?”

  He smiled. “You know what’s wrong with people like you?” he asked. “You want results, but you’re not willing to get your hands dirty.” Willis glanced briefly at the dead man on the floor, then turned back. “After we met in New York, I looked into you. You’re a by-the-books kind of guy, but you have a problem with authority.” He looked me up and down. “Parker asked me to head up his unit. That means I call the shots around here, not you. You want to help? You follow my lead and do as I say.”

  “Not how I work,” I said. “I’ve followed your lead up until now, but that was too much.”

  “Then you’re welcome to leave,” he said and nodded to the open door. “You shouldn’t be here anyway. You’ll just screw the whole thing up. Like when you screwed up and got your dad killed.”

  I narrowed my eyes. “You don’t know anything about me.”

  He smiled again. “I know everything about you,” he said. “I know about your friendship with the president. I know about your dead wife, how you were incapable of keeping her safe. I know about your relationship with Davis. You think she’ll make things right? For what happened to your wife?”

  I smiled back. Looked away briefly, then swung hard and hit Willis in the face.

  He stepped backward from the blow and almost tripped over the body on the floor behind him.

  Willis threw a left hook. I grabbed his fist in midair with my left hand and reached for my Glock with my right. I let go of his fist. I grabbed hold of his throat the same way he’d done a few seconds earlier. Then I walked him backwards. Pushed him up against a wall and pressed the muzzle into his throat. He struggled as adrenaline surged throughout my body, and I pressed the weapon harder against him.

  “Don’t you ever talk about her,” I said in a low voice and blinked several times, breathing hard.

  He pushed me away. The guy was strong. I leveled my weapon at him as I started to breathe even harder.

  “I know Parker wanted you first,” he said. “So I know I was his backup plan.” His smile faded. Blood trickled out of his mouth. He tasted it. Used the back of his hand to wipe it away and looked at it. “I refuse to let him second-guess his decision,” he said. “I’ll find these people my way, with or without your help.”

  “So that’s what this is about?”

  Willis said nothing.

  “I don’t want your job, Curt. I’m here because I want to protect the President of the United States. Period, end of story. And I’ll do that by any means necessary.”

  He shook his head slowly. “Really?” he said. “Any means necessary? By-the-books only gets you so far. Thought you knew that. You want to get these guys, you’ll have to think like them and act like them.”

  I was still breathing hard and blinked again. Felt my hands trembling slightly, and my legs felt weak.

  “What are you going to do, kill me?”

  I said nothing.

  “Go ahead. Do it. Try explaining that to Parker.”

  I took a deep breath. Let it out slowly and lowered my weapon, keeping my eyes on him.

  Willis stepped forward. I heard the warble of a police siren in the distance and suddenly became aware of voices outside the apartment. Figured someone had heard the gunshots and called it in to Metro PD. Realized I only had a few minutes until the cops would enter and we’d be tied up for a while explaining everything to them like we’d done at the building in the office park when the alarm had been triggered.

  “I’ll check the back room,” said Willis. He eyed me as he stepped past me and moved around the body. “The guy was headed that way. Finish checking his person before the cops get here and give us problems.”

  I crouched down by the dead guy and searched him again. Found a set of keys. Looked at them briefly and stuffed them into my pocket. Kept patting him down. I was rushing. Found nothing else, so I stood and moved toward the room Willis had entered so I could help him search it.

  But then I heard a buzzing sound. I glanced back over my shoulder. Turned and knelt down by the body. Started checking him again, and felt his jacket vibrating. Unzipped it and found an inside pocket and pulled out a cell phone. Glanced at the dead man briefly; then I looked back at the phone. It buzzed urgently in my hand. I held it tight, deciding what to do. The phone kept buzzing. I decided to take a chance.

  “Yeah,” I said in a low voice as I answered it.

  Silence on the line as I waited for the caller to speak. “Are you on your way?” a man asked.

  “Yeah,” I said again.

  “Don’t waste my time,” the voice said. “I’ve waited long enough. Be here in twenty minutes or I walk.”

  “Where?”

  Hesitation on the line. “I already told you.”

  I said nothing.

  “Downtown, abandoned building off of First.”

  “How will I recognize you?” I said, taking another chance, hoping the dead guy didn’t know the caller.

  “I’ll recognize you,” he said, and the line went dead.

  I clicked off. Willis appeared from around the corner and stared at me. I stood. Showed him the phone. “There’s a meeting,” I said. “Found this in the guy’s jacket. It started buzzing and I answered it. I think the guy stopped here to find something, maybe. The man on the phone said he’s only
staying for twenty minutes.” I glanced at the phone. “Said he’d be at an abandoned building downtown off of First.” I tossed Willis the keys. “Find his car outside. I’ll deal with Metro PD so I can search the room. Go to the meeting.”

  He tossed them back. “I have a car,” he said. “You go and I’ll search. I’ll call Parker later and I’ll find you.”

  THIRTY

  I STUFFED THE dead guy’s phone into my jacket pocket and zipped it closed. Stepped out through the front door and made my way into the parking lot. Two Metro PD cruisers pulled in. They had already shut off their sirens, but their overhead lights were still on. Red and blue light reflected off everything. I pressed the unlock button on the key chain and scanned the lot. I kept pressing it until I heard a car door unlock and I saw parking lights flash yellow. I opened the driver’s side door and slid in. I watched the cops walk to the front of the building, and saw a resident step outside to meet with them about the gunshots.

  I waited in the dark, watching as the resident pointed to the third-floor apartment window. The cops said something to the man, and he led them through the entrance, and they all went inside. I set a timer on my watch. Then I shoved the key into the ignition and started the motor. Put the car in gear and eased out of the lot, past Willis’s SUV. I got onto the road and reached for my phone.

  The first person I tried calling was Morgan Lennox. He didn’t answer. I figured he must’ve been working on something important or he would’ve answered. I thought about calling Parker next, but checked my watch again and felt anxious about the time and decided instead to call Chris Reed at the Hoover Building.

  “This is Reed,” he said out of breath, like he was walking fast.

  “It’s me,” I said. “Chris, I need your help.”

  “I just got out of the meeting with Mulvaney.”

  “Any progress?”

  “We know what was in the schematics stolen from the NSA. We have a big problem on our hands.”

  “What was it?” I asked.

  “An override device,” he said.

  I glanced up and saw the apartment building through the rearview mirror. Red and blue lights from the Metro PD cars reflected off the building and flashed silently as I thought about what Chris was telling me.

  “What does the override device do?”

  “We’re not sure yet,” he said.

  “Okay.”

  “There’s more,” he said. “A terrorist just released a video to the local news. They sent it to us and to DHS. That’s Mulvaney’s new problem. So he’s set aside the schematics issue, and he’s shifted his focus to this.”

  “Did you see the video?”

  “Yes,” he said. “Mulvaney just reviewed it with his team. Had a big meeting about it with everyone. He sent it to all of his agents, so I have it on my phone. Give me a minute and I’ll send it over to you.”

  I kept driving. I passed under a streetlight and headed toward the abandoned building downtown and made two more turns as I waited for Chris to send the video to me.

  “Sent,” he finally said.

  I pulled off to the side of the road and brought the car to a stop as I saw the video my friend sent come through. I pressed play and the video started. The face of a man appeared. The same face I’d seen in the footage Morgan had sent earlier. The terrorist stared into the camera for a moment before he spoke.

  “My name is Omar Malik,” he began. “Fifteen years ago, my family was killed in a drone strike in Afghanistan. Your government declared me dead. But as you can see, I’m very much alive.” He paused. “Fifteen years ago, your government had five drones in its possession. Today, there are over eighty, armed with two Hellfire missiles each.” He smiled. “As of ten minutes ago, I have control of all of them.”

  Omar Malik stepped closer to the camera. He tilted his head slightly as he continued to stare at it. “My demands are simple. The president will surrender himself to me within the hour, or Americans will die.” Malik paused. “A demonstration of force will take place to prove that I am to be taken seriously. If Keller isn’t handed over within one hour, I will deploy the drones and decimate every major city in the United States, beginning with Washington, DC.” Malik’s eyes shifted left, and the video ended.

  I kept my foot on the brake and stared down at my phone for several moments. Heard Chris calling my name. Pressed the phone against my ear and heard him louder. “Blake?” he said. “Did you get that?”

  I glanced out the window and nodded to myself. “Yeah.”

  “He said his name is Omar Malik. Mulvaney has some guys trying to figure out who he is.”

  “I know who he is,” I said. “He’s responsible for the White House and Marine One attacks, Chris.”

  There was silence on the line for a brief moment. “How do you know that?”

  I explained how after Willis and I left the Hoover Building, Morgan had sent us the address of the young man we believed had piloted the small drones rigged with explosives and was responsible for the attacks. I told Chris about the video Morgan had accessed. Told him I saw Omar Malik on it. Told him all about the apartment we went to check out and the man Willis had killed and the phone call that I took.

  “Tell me about the phone call,” he said as I got the car moving again.

  I navigated a turn and drove the dead guy’s car faster. “The caller was checking on the guy Willis killed.”

  “What’d he say?” asked Chris.

  “He asked where I was. Seemed upset that I was late. Said he’d give me twenty minutes; then he’d walk.”

  “Any idea why the guy Willis killed went to the apartment?”

  I shrugged in the dark. “Maybe to find something. Willis stayed behind to look around some more.”

  “Maybe he got it before he even went to the apartment,” said Chris. I wasn’t sure what he meant by that.

  “I need your help,” I said again. “I’m heading downtown. I need to meet this guy to see where this leads.”

  “Why?” he asked. “You think it has something to do with the drone attacks?”

  “It’s connected somehow. And because I think the person I’m meeting knows where to find Omar Malik.”

  THIRTY-ONE

  “I KNOW WHERE to find Omar Malik,” said Greenberg fifteen years earlier.

  Miller and I were sitting inside his makeshift office again. Ten hours had passed since our first meeting. The first time, the whole team was sitting around us, except for Dallas Webb, who had been on sniper duty. This time, it was just Jon Miller and me. I glanced over to Miller for a second; then I faced forward.

  “How do you know?” I asked.

  “We have eyes on the ground. And because the mission I briefed you on this morning has been called off.”

  I glanced over to Miller again. He narrowed his eyes as he stared at our CO. “Who called it off?” he asked.

  Greenberg sighed heavily and leaned back in his chair. Said nothing at first. Just studied the two of us. “My superior has informed me that the CIA called it off. Told us to stand down and abort the mission.”

  “Why would they do that?” I asked.

  Greenberg said nothing.

  “The CIA doesn’t have men on the ground over here. The Navy does. You said this morning the belief was that Omar Malik was in the area. You said he was close to us, just a few miles out. If so, we can pick the guy up, easy.”

  Greenberg nodded. “That’s what we told them,” he said. “But they told us to stand down, all the same.”

  “And just leave him there?” asked Miller.

  Greenberg’s eyes moved from me over to my friend. “The CIA apparently has new technology,” he said. “It’s a new thing they want to test out. Ever heard of a Predator drone? They’re experimental, apparently.”

  Miller and I stared back and said nothing.

  “The CIA figured out how to get missiles attached to the damn things somehow. They want to test it out. They’re worried about the aerodynamics, apparently. Worri
ed about what’s going to happen when the missiles are fired. Sounds like they want to start using the drones on high-value targets if it works out.”

  “They have the technology to do that?” I asked.

  Greenberg nodded. “They’ve done preliminary tests to see what happens when the missiles they’ve attached to the drones are launched. Some thought the drones would crash. They thought it would affect the aerodynamics of the Predators. So far, they haven’t, but they can only do so much testing. Now the geniuses at the Pentagon have decided the next logical step is to test with actual targets. The hope is to maybe use them to get Bin Laden one day. Their objective is simple: they want to test-fire the missiles and hit something without crashing the drone itself. And that something is the home Omar Malik is visiting.”

  The room fell silent. Greenberg stared at both of us in turn. I glanced over to Miller again; then I turned back to my CO. “You want us to tell the others?” I asked. “That the mission’s off?”

  He shook his head. “I don’t want you to tell them anything,” he said. “Not yet. As far as they know, we’re still on standby until we get a location and receive the go-ahead to move in. But like I said, we already know where he is.” He stared across at us.

  Miller and I said nothing. I figured Jon was just as confused as I was.

  Greenberg sighed again, annoyed, it seemed, that we weren’t following what he was trying to tell us. “I’m not going to let the CIA bomb the guy,” he finally said. “I want the two of you to go get him. Tonight.”

  Miller sat up straight and leaned forward in his chair. “You’re going against CIA orders?”

  “No,” said Greenberg. “My superior is going against orders. I’m just following his orders, and I want you both to follow my orders.” Silence in the room again. He eyed us, watching how we were going to react. “You two need to understand something. The guy has a wife and one kid that we know of inside the house. We think he sent his family there last week, ahead of his arrival. That’s how the CIA knew where he was going to be—they had people watching the home, and they’ve confirmed the guy is there now. We expect he’ll be there no more than a day, though. That means you need to go pick him up, plus the wife and kid.”