Reboot

by David Clark

  The two walked down the hall to the common area. A simple area with a circular table in the center, with four chairs spaced equally around it. Black bottom cabinets were topped by a solid white countertop, lining two walls. A stainless-steel sink as positioned in the corner and matching appliances lined the counter to either side. Doug opened the stainless double door refrigerator and searched the trays in the door for a second before surfacing with a bottle of beer and a can of soda. “Sorry, this is as strong as you get,” he smirked and handed the soda to Robert. Doug leaned against the counter. Robert, feeling rather tired, took a seat.

  “So, how did I start? I wish I could tell you some honorable story that there was a greater good behind it. Some trap we were setting as a larger global effort to rid the world of evil, but I can’t. It was just money, plain and simple. The reason I could pull Ying and Ivan up so quickly was because this is not the first time myself, or Christopher, have dealt with them. We were both assigned to monitor Ivan and the arms sales he was doing with North Korea back in the day. It violated multiple UN Resolutions and our governments wanted to know who was involved and how they were doing it. It was during that operation, one of my junior officers found Ivan’s show on an underground website. We became interested in it at that point because of the old follow the money adage. Seemed that was the source of significant income to support his more illegal activities, when other sides of his business were light. In retrospect, it actually turned into a source of great information. We found trails back to many people of interest. I shared the information with Christopher, who had one of their digital specialists search for similar shows and financial side-businesses. The whole operation was a great information grab. We found out who his contacts were for weapons, and who his contacts were to offload them in North Korea. A little shake down of them constricted his business a little. I like to think we forced them back to the negotiation table.”

  Doug took a big swig from his beer and held up the bottle, as if to admire it, while letting out an “Ah”. “After the last few days, I really needed one of these. Well, even after that operation was over, the British kept monitoring the shows and the money trail to see what else shook out. Four years ago, Christopher and I had lunch and I told him I was retiring and returning to civilian life. I wanted to say my goodbyes to a great and trusted ally. To be honest, I thought that would be the last time I ever saw him.” Doug walked over to the table, spun a chair around, and sat down, leaning forward against the chair back. “God, I was what… maybe nine months into retirement in San Diego, just sitting at the beach, when Christopher approached me out of the blue, said he was traveling through on his way back to the UK. I found it odd, but also knew he had the resources to find me and visit me like that if he wanted. He asked me how civilian life was treating me. I had no complaints. Woke up, walked on the beach as the sun came up. Spent many a day watching pretty girls sunbathe. Hung out with a bunch of old military friends I had in the area. Not a bad life. He asked if I remembered the shows. Which, of course, I did. He handed me a piece of paper with a ridiculously long number on it and said that was what the smallest of them brought in on average, annually. I do mean ridiculously long, like eight digits. Anyway, he asked if I was interested in a little extra retirement income. I immediately said no way in hell. There was no way I would be involved in something like that. I thought he was joking, but he proceeded to tell me he was serious and how he would alter the format. No one would die, and everyone would share the proceeds equally. Even with that, I still refused.”

  “What made you change your mind?”

  “The money,” Doug said as he turned the chair around the right way. “I hate to say it, but it was simple as that. Reality TV had become all the rage, there was a huge market for this sort of thing. He had reached out a few times after our initial conversation, explaining his plan, and I eventually gave in. The first group was all ex-intelligence that had seen the shows.”

  Robert interrupted, “Alpha?”

  “Yep, Alpha. Each of us had watched the show a lot, so we knew how to pull it off. We also knew the risks. Christopher managed all the business side and, using some of the contacts he’d found during the British operation, he found his way into the inner circle and offered to host a North American version of that show. Seemed there was particular interest in watching Americans die. To me it seemed to be an interesting twist, they wanted to get to see Americans tortured and killed, but in reality, we were taking advantage of them and raking them for every dollar they bet.”

  “So just how much money have you earned?”

  “Oh. I don’t know. Let’s just say, so much that I have no idea how much. You have been with us a while now. You know the kind of cake we are talking about.”

  Doug put his beer down on the table and sat quietly, lost in thought for several seconds. The confidence he had exuded most of the day drained from his face. “I am really sorry about Bob and Michelle. Their deaths weigh on me heavily. I helped start all this mess. No one was supposed to ever die.”

  8

  Doug and Robert talked for hours. After a few more drinks shared by each, Doug helped the wobbly-legged Robert back to the apartment he and Amy shared. The exhaustion of the last few days had taken finally caught up with him. After Doug helped him to the bed, Robert was out before Doug even hit the door.

  When Robert woke up, it was late the next morning. Amy was just coming out of the shower, looking physically refreshed, but her mind was still worn. Robert gave her a quick hug to help make things all right. It had little effect on either of them. These were wounds that only time could heal.

  After a hot shower himself, he joined Jill and Amy downstairs in the cafeteria for some breakfast. Doug had already left his apartment when they passed by. The three of them blended in wearing the gray sweat suits and t-shirt. The only difference between them and the others was the lack of a crew cut, and the sweat from several hours in the gym. they sat at a table, keeping to themselves in the large open dining room. White round tables, surrounded by chrome-tube framed chairs with red fabric seats and backs, dotted the same brown floor tile that was throughout the building. A long buffet-style station was against the front wall. The setup was similar to what Robert remembered from school. You picked up a tray, slid it down the metal counter, stopping at various stations to be served. Still, like when they walked through, no one paid any attention to them. When they went through the line, those serving them were polite and made eye contact, but did not try to talk to them. A contrast to the multitude of conversations going on around them with the others in the line. It was like the employees were used to a transient population. People arrived, performed an assignment that no one was to know about, and left.

  Robert still found it difficult to eat with so much on his mind. All he managed was to take several sips of the coffee and poke at the mixed fruit, occasionally skewering a piece and blindly plunging it into his mouth as he watched the people move about around them. His attention was so divided, he never noticed Doug placing a hand on the back of his chair as he leaned in to talk to the table.

  “Morning, guys. I hope a good night’s sleep helped you. I have some good news. The flight we talked about will be here tonight at 2:15 am, local time. Don’t get too excited. It is a military cargo aircraft coming into Kadena Air Base, in Okinawa. We need to take a quick flight in the Embassy Gulfstream jet from here to there. We leave at 11:00 tonight.”

  Jill asked, “I thought it was too dangerous for us to go to the airport?”

  “It is a regional airport and our plane is technically diplomatic property, so they won’t mess with us.”

  The three of them looked stunned, “Yes, I am going with you. There are a few things I need to take care of first. I will catch up with you later.” Robert watched Doug walk out of the cafeteria, stopping to pat a few people on the back, a few waves, and one hug before he made it to the door.

  They spent most of the day in solitude. This was by choice. Robert had
a lot to wrap his mind around. They were headed home in hours, but something didn’t sit well with him. Amy seemed distant to him. This had changed them both as individuals, and together. Occasionally their eyes caught each other’s, but only for a second before an awkwardness forced them to break the contact.

  Just after 10:00 pm, Doug knocked on the door. Robert and Amy were much as he found them the night before, Amy was asleep, and Robert sat there staring a hole through the television.

  “Guys, I had these laundered. You should probably wear these tonight.” He was carrying the same dark hooded sweat suits they woke up in two days ago. Amy sat up on the bed and took them from Doug without a word. She didn’t have to, all four of them shared a similar thought regarding these. They were filled with the horrific memories of what they went through. No amount of cleaning would fix that. Amy intended to burn them as soon as they arrived home.

  “Be ready to go in about forty minutes,” said Doug before he closed the door behind him.

  Amy threw the sweat suits on the bed and folded her arms as she scowled down at the pile of cloth. “I don’t want to put that on.”

  “I know, babe. It’s only for a little bit.” Robert got up and wrapped his arms around her from behind. It was at that moment he could feel her whole-body shivering. “Look. The next time you wake up in a bed, you will wake up in your own bed. Let’s just get through this.”

  “Yeah,” she conceded. She turned around and embraced him. For the first time in days, Robert felt he could comfort his wife. The warmth of the moment pushed away a small bit of the tortured cold that had occupied his soul. “But what about Christopher?” Then it was gone.

  Right at 10:45 pm, there was another knock on the door. Robert opened the door to a beefy three-person security unit wearing all black clothing, masks, and tactical vests, with semi-automatic pistols holstered on their belts. These guys didn’t miss many gym days.

  There was no introduction just a very gruff, “Let’s go.”

  Robert didn’t hesitate and walked out into the hallway, followed by Amy, both adorned in their dark hooded sweat suits. Jill and Doug were already out and walking. The consulate was empty as they paraded back through it. Instead of exiting out through the turnstile they’d entered through, the security team took them out a side door to a black SUV waiting in a courtyard protected by a twelve-foot fence. Robert, Amy, and Jill loaded in the third row. Doug and two of the security team loaded into the row in front of them and two more of the security team were in the front. When all the doors were closed, and the SUV started up, the gate in front of them opened up. Without hesitation, they pulled out on the empty night-time streets.

  After an uneventful thirty-minute drive, the SUV pulled through the secured gates of an airport. It maintained speed all the way into a hangar, before screeching to a stop. The doors exploded up on both sides and the security team exited. Two of the team stood on either side of the back door as they exited. The remaining member led them up to the stairs of a white Gulfstream jet. He paused at the bottom of the stairs and stepped aside. Pulling off his mask, Chief Maldons bid them, “Safe travels.”

  They rushed on and took seats in the luxury jet. Compared to the hard mattress of the bed they’d slept on last night, these seats felt like a cloud to Robert as he sank into his. The tan leather was soft and luxurious. He strapped himself in as the stairs folded up and the jet started to move. Out the window, he could see they passed out of the hangar and were moving down a tarmac. The plane never paused as it turned toward an open runway and accelerated to take-off speed. It climbed off the ground and into the night, on a cushion of air.

  For the next few hours, Robert dozed off several times. Each time he woke up in terror, thinking about Christopher. Imagining him screaming in pain as a mystery individual tortured him. The further they traveled, the farther away from him they were. A feeling that they were leaving him behind forever crept into his mind. He tried to shake it and convince himself Doug would handle things, but his mind never let go of the thought. Each time his mental exhaustion won out, sending him back to sleep. The last attempt was short-lived. The grinding and clunk of the flaps extending woke him up. They were on final approach for Kadena air base.

  The jet landed and pulled straight into a hangar. When they came to a stop, Doug moved up to the cockpit. When he returned, he sat back sown. “Just sit tight. Your flight isn’t here yet.” The plane shut off, and they sat in absolute silence, with the sound of the pouring rain and occasional clap of thunder in the background. Doug pulled his hood down over his head and leaned back to get a little more sleep. He was out quickly. Robert looked across at Amy. Her mind was still a million miles away, but when she caught his glance, this time it lingered a little. Perhaps being closer to going home had made things better. Robert hoped so. In between his many naps on the flight, he made a decision, one that cleared his mind. He only hoped Amy would understand.

  They sat for almost twenty minutes. With the plane’s power and air conditioner off, it had become a little stuffy and reminded Robert of a box he was in, many years ago. He pulled his hood down to cool off as the pilot came out of the cockpit and announced, “It’s here.”

  Doug sprang up, awake, as if he was never asleep, and lowered the door. He walked out. Hesitant, Jill stood up and walked toward the door. Doug yelled from outside, “Let’s go!”

  Jill headed down the stairs. Amy reached over and grabbed Robert’s hand, “Let’s go home.” Together, hand in hand, they walked down the stairs to the concrete floor of the empty hangar. The large barn doors of the hangar jerked, then creaked and moaned as they slid open. Coming through, and out of the downpour, was the largest aircraft any of them had ever seen. The wingspan of the gray Air Force C-130 aircraft barely fit through the door. The sound of the engines roared inside the metal structure, causing all four of them to cover their ears as the pilot expertly maneuvered the aircraft to turn back toward the door.

  The doors started to slide shut as the engines wound down. Doug walked to the C-130 as the rear ramp lowered. Three men stood inside, waiting for the ramp to touch the ground. One was the loadmaster, and the other two rushed out to greet Doug with quick, firm handshakes. Both were dressed in dark clothing and carried large duffel bags. There were no introductions between the men and Robert and the others. Instead, they headed to the far corner of the hangar, sat their duffle bags down, and started inspecting their contents.

  Doug walked up the ramp, exchanged a few words with the loadmaster, and motioned for Robert and the others to come. They walked up the ramp, where he introduced them to Staff Sargent Copeland. “Ok, the Staff Sargent will take good care of you guys. Get home. Sit tight. I have asked a few of my old friends to watch over you guys for a bit, to make sure no one messes with you. They will pick you up at Miramar. See you in a few days.”

  The loadmaster showed them to the jump seats they would sit on while Doug walked down the ramp. One by one, they were strapped in as the engines on the transport started up. The ramp was still down and Robert could see Doug in the corner with the others. With the three of them safely strapped in, the loadmaster left them to go to the cockpit. The engines revved up and created an enormous racket. The ramp lifted off the ground. Robert reached over and grabbed Amy’s hand and said, “I love you. I love you more than anything, but there is something I need to see through.” Tears formed in her eyes, but were unable to fall down her cheek before Robert unstrapped himself, ran up the raising ramp, and jumped out. When he landed, he looked back to the see the ramp closed and the plane lurching forward. He sprinted to the side of the Gulfstream jet and hid there as the hangar doors opened and the plane departed.

  9

  The doors closed and the roar of the giant departing through the downpour disappeared, returning the hangar to near silence. The only sound was the patter of rain on the metal roof and the murmur of conversation in the corner. Robert felt second thoughts flood into his mind, but it was too late now. His way home had just
rumbled down the runway and he couldn’t stay hidden behind the sleek white jet forever. With no other options, he moved forward with his plan and took several tentative steps toward the corner, which they heard. Doug spun around, surprised.

  “Robert! What the hell? You should be on that plane.”

  Robert walked toward him with his hands outstretched to the front. “I know, but hear me out.”

  “Hear nothing. Maldons will kill you.” Doug walked toward him. “Let’s go talk to the base commander and get you on something heading back toward the states.”

  Doug tried to grab his arm, but Robert yanked it away. “I am going with you to help. Christopher is my best friend. He has done so much for Amy and me. Hell, he is giving himself for our own safety. I have to help.”

  Doug was hearing none of this. The business-like expression on his face lacked any of the friendliness Robert was used to. “You do not understand what you are getting involved with. You have no experience with this. Leave it to the professionals. Now come on.” Doug again tried to grab him.

  “No! I am going with you.” Tears of frustration streamed down Robert’s cheek.

  The loud verbal altercation attracted the attention of the two mystery men hunched over duffel bags in the corner. Both of them stood up and started walking toward Doug and Robert. One rolled up his sleeves and revealed heavily tatted and muscular forearms. The muscles twitched as he squeezed his hands into fists.

  “Doug, need any help?” he asked as he stopped next to Doug. The eyes of both men surveyed Robert up and down.

  Doug ran his hands up through his hair before taking a step forward, toward Robert. He sighed heavily and said, “Nah, I got this.” Both men backed away and returned to their task with the duffel bags.

  With his eyes locked on Robert’s he said, “Okay.” He was not agreeing, but resigned and recognized he would never convince him otherwise. Not to mention, they were on the base in secret, and didn’t need to attract any attention. “Okay.”