by S L Shelton
Hurry up, guys, she thought. I'd sure love to have that backup right about now.
A moment later, someone else sputtered into her earpiece. “Vixen, this is Apollo,” came the voice of their incoming tactical support. “Have Chef hold up. We’re only five mikes out now.”
She didn’t get a chance to reply before Chef interrupted. “Negative, Apollo,” Chef hissed in a harsh whisper through the radio. “I’ve got a clear window, and I’m taking it. Once it’s tagged, you can do whatever you want, but I’m clear now.”
There was a moment’s pause while Charlotte assumed Apollo was swearing off radio before the connection clicked to life again. “Vixen, is that your call?” Apollo asked, inviting her to pull rank as the agent in charge and back his command call.
The two Range Rovers with the incoming eight members of Delta team were right on schedule—but “on schedule” didn't mean diddly squat when the bad guys didn't keep to it.
Charlotte gritted her teeth before clicking her mic open. “Are you sure you’ve got it, Chef?” Charlotte asked.
He answered her with two clicks in her ear. “Apollo, this is Vixen,” she called out, confidence in her voice if not in her gut. “Chef’s in. I have to trust his call. Over.”
There was another pause. “Roger,” he said, almost with a tinge of sadness in his voice. “We’re four mikes out.”
Two long minutes ticked by as they waited for Chef to activate a tracer tag. Suddenly a new signal appeared on Charlotte’s laptop screen. “Chef, this is Vixen. Good tracking. Snap your pictures and then get back here.”
There was no reply—not even the double click on Chef’s mic.
“Chef, this is Vixen,” she said more clearly. “I say again. We’ve got good tracking. Get out of there.”
No response.
Charlotte looked at Aspen and nodded. Spencer pulled his jacket over his MP5 assault rifle and climbed out of the SUV, hurrying around the other parked vehicles to the corner where the truck sat. Just as he arrived at the intersection, the truck pulled away from the market and onto the main street. Charlotte watched as he turned and ran back toward the SUV
“Vixen, this is Aspen. The delivery vehicle is moving. No sign of Chef,” he said as he ran toward her.
“Roger, Aspen…Apollo did you get that?” she asked as she reached across the seat and turned the ignition on the Range Rover.
“Acknowledged. We have tracking on the vehicle. Both teams will be in intercept position in less than two mikes,” came Apollo’s reply. Charlotte could hear the whine of the engine in the team one vehicle, accelerating over the radio.
Spencer climbed back into the SUV and then put it into gear, lurching forward out of their parking space. “I bet that dumb bastard climbed into the back of the truck,” he said as he swerved to miss a taxi in an intersection.
“Chef, this is Aspen. Status, over.” Aspen called into his mic.
“If the warheads are actually in the truck, they might be interfering with his transmission,” Charlotte offered to Aspen, trying to think of rational reasons why Chef wouldn’t be answering.
Spencer nodded.
“Chef, if you read, Apollo is almost to your location,” Charlotte said. “Apollo, be advised, Chef’s transmission may be getting blocked by the package if it’s on board.”
“Roger,” came the reply. “We’ve got the truck in sight. Team two is closest, we're right behind them.”
“Can you see them?” Charlotte asked Aspen.
He craned his neck up over the traffic in front of them. “Yeah. The delivery truck is going into a building about two blocks ahead.”
“Any sign of Delta,” she asked as Aspen swerved to miss a slow-moving sedan.
“Team two…oh shit! They're following the delivery truck into the building,” he said. “No sign of Apollo’s vehicle yet…wait…there he is.”
“Apollo, this is Vixen. Team two just followed the delivery truck in, hold up outside until we get a SITRE—”
Suddenly the building that the delivery truck and the Team Two Delta Rover had disappeared into erupted in a volcano of flame and concrete. Charlotte felt the thud deep in her chest as the SUV vibrated, caught in the shockwave. Spencer cut the wheel hard, away from the explosion, aiming for a side street.
The blast thumped against the SUV and rocked it up on two wheels before it slammed back down, leaving Aspen struggling to regain control. A second later, debris began raining down on the roof and the windshield as he sped for cover around a corner. A large piece of rubble smashed into the windshield, protruding rebar through the glass.
Aspen sped around a corner and stopped abruptly on the sidewalk, the passenger side of the vehicle scraping against the wall of a building.
“Apollo, this is Vixen. Status,” Charlotte said into her mic. The calm in her voice was completely contrary to the panic that had seized her guts.
No response.
“Apollo, Vixen. Report!” she said again, her pitch and volume starting to reflect the emotion she was feeling.
Nothing.
“Chef, respond,” she called out in desperation.
Spencer was already out of the SUV, running around the corner toward the blast’s carnage by the time she got any response.
“This is Apollo,” came the reply. Charlotte closed her eyes and released the breath she had been holding. “Massive casualties. We lost team two and have wounded on team one…one critical. We need EVAC.”
“Roger, calling for EVAC,” she replied, closing her eyes tightly, fighting against the urge to break down and scream. “Momma, this is Vixen. Recovery team down. Delivery vehicle destroyed. We need Medical EVAC for both tactical teams.”
“Understood, Vixen. EVAC is en route,” came the voice of John Temple. “But, Vixen. We need measurements on site. Is there a hot read?”
Charlotte turned on her Geiger counter and waited while it went through its start-up and reset to zero. She watched as the numbers quickly climbed before receding back to normal levels.
“Negative, Momma,” she said with a minute amount of relief in her voice. “The packages were not aboard.” Her relief immediately turned to grief again—she had lost team members over nothing.
“Acknowledged,” came John’s reply. “Get our people out of there.”
“Roger. Vixen out,” she said before smashing the Geiger counter against the floor several times until it shattered. After pulling her emotions together, she grabbed the first aid kit and dashed from the SUV as she pulled her headscarf around her face as a barrier to the dust.
Jesus, Temple…what did you get me into? She thought as she ran toward the carnage.
**
3:00 p.m. (GMT +1) —Saarbrücken Germany
I had just parked and was exiting my car when my phone rang. Thinking it might be Kathrin, I just pulled it out and answered.
“Hello?” I said.
“I need you to run a backtrace on a vehicle,” came John’s voice just as I spotted Kathrin inside the café. My heart jumped when I saw her, and it took a couple of beats to process what John had said.
“What?! Okay, can you send the details to the data center?” I asked. “I can pull it up when I get back.”
“Sorry, pal,” John said. “We need it now. Something’s happened.”
My heart tripped over itself. So close, I thought.
“Okay,” I replied, accepting the unfortunate truth of my situation. “If I leave now, I can be back in thirty minutes.”
“Alright,” John said. “Tell Gretel I’m sorry for the interruption.”
“I haven’t talked to her yet,” I replied with sadness in my tone. “I was just going in.”
“Go in, blame it on me, then leave,” he said with an apologetic tinge to his voice. “We need you back on base.”
“Understood,” I replied before ending the call.
I pulled the door open and smiled when Kathrin’s head turned toward me. Her face lit up as she leapt from her chair to race toward
me, throwing her arms around my neck once she arrived.
“Oh my God!” she exclaimed. “I can’t believe it’s you.”
“It’s me,” I replied, kissing her on her cheek as she pulled away. “But I’ve got really bad news…I can’t stay.”
“What?” she asked as a jumble of emotions played across her face, from shock, to anger, to fear, to sadness, and finally settling on confusion—That was a very expressive reaction.
“Something’s happened. I got the call just as I was coming through the door,” I said. I could feel the sadness tugging at my face.
She wrapped her arms around my neck again and held on for a few seconds before pulling away abruptly. “Just a second,” she said with a look of resolve on her face before dashing to the table where she had been sitting. She grabbed her backpack—the backpack she had traded me for her shoulder bag in Amsterdam in May—and then dropped a couple of bills on the table.
When she rejoined me, she hooked her arm through mine and leaned on me as she pulled me to the door. “I’ll go with you,” she said in a quiet voice.
Once outside I stopped. “I can’t take you with me this time.” I was startled by the tone of agony in my voice.
She looked at me with a hurt expression before smiling a fake smile. “Such is the life of a world-traveling adventurer,” she said, rubbing her hand across my shoulder. “Perhaps another time then.”
My heart was splitting. “John said to tell you it’s his fault,” I informed her. “I don’t even know what he needs me for, but it sounded important.”
A suspicious look crossed her face. “John?” she asked. “The Captain?”
I nodded. “He’s had me working tech support,” I replied, wanting to tell her everything but knowing I had neither the time nor the freedom to do it.
She smiled a knowing smile before putting her arm around my waist. “Where is your car?”
I turned us toward the loaner BMW and began slowly walking that direction. “How long will you be in Germany?” she asked, putting her head on my shoulder. The warmth and familiarity of her touch made it agonizing for me to move toward the car.
“I’m not sure,” I replied. “It was only supposed to be a couple of days, but I don’t know what’s happened. That might change now.”
“I’m working as well,” she said with sadness in her voice, her German accent caressing the words she spoke into my ear, the vibration of her voice making the inevitable separation that much more painful.
Just then, her phone buzzed. She kissed me on the cheek as she reached for her pocket. She read the screen and then rolled her eyes. “Hmmph,” she grunted. “It would appear the universe does not want us to have coffee.”
I smiled at her. “Not the universe,” I said quickly. “We are here. Others are subverting the will of the universe.”
She looked into my face with a broad grin before placing her lips on mine for a lingering kiss. “I like your way of looking at it better,” she said finally as she pulled away. “It is worth it to see your beautiful face.” Then she winked as she backed away from me. “Don’t worry, Scott Wolfe… I won’t let you get away from me that easily.”
“I’d be heartbroken if you did,” I replied as warmth filled my cheeks and ears. The way the ‘W’ of my name became a ‘V’ when she spoke it seeped into my chest and filled it.
“Another time,” she said as she turned to walk away. “Maybe we can shoot for an hour next time.”
“Or a week,” I said.
She turned and looked over her shoulder at me and I noticed a blush of pink rise to her beautiful face, framed by her long, golden curls.
“I’ll hold you to that,” she yelled, turning around in a complete circle to speak to me before she disappeared around the corner.
I got into my car and pulled away, more satisfied than I thought I would be.
“You’re right,” I muttered. “It was worth it to see your beautiful face.”
**
As I drove back on base a little more than thirty minutes later, I could tell something major had happened. I pulled up to the secure tech center and flashed my access badge at the gate as a small, corporate style jet landed on the tarmac several hundred yards away, emergency vehicles speeding toward it.
After passing through security, I entered the room and found it much busier than it had been just a few hours earlier—most of the monitors and computer consoles were on and manned. Whatever had happened, it was big.
“What’s going on?” I asked Sergeant Piper as I rushed up to her in the back of the room.
“An operation went bad in Turkey,” she said with stress on her face. “Lots of casualties, including the tactical team that was there for security.”
“Is that what’s coming in now?” I asked, jerking my thumb toward the tarmac on the opposite side of the wall.
She nodded. “We’re trying to get confirmation on the source of the explosion,” she said.
I looked at the terminal I had been on earlier and saw it was in use by someone else. “Where can I work?” I asked.
She walked to a door at the back of the room and swiped her card before entering a code on the keypad. When the door opened, she gestured me in. The room was smaller than the one we had just left, but there were newer pieces of equipment and larger monitors that indicated this was a more secure and important area.
She gestured toward a workstation and put her finger up to her lips, discouraging me from making any noise before I was tempted to.
In front of me were two large monitors, and several high-ranking officers were standing in front of then, watching satellite footage. The room was darker and much quieter than the other room…it all felt very oppressive and daunting.
I sat at the console and slipped on the headset in front of me. Piper leaned forward and whispered in my ear. “John Temple said to contact him as soon as you were on site,” she said, pointing at a flashing button on the video conference panel.
I nodded and hit the button. A second later, John’s face appeared on the small computer screen in front of me.
“I need you to talk to the Agency Operative who was on the ground,” he said without any pleasantries. “I know she’s back on base, but I’m not sure where. She may have gone out to the medical center to be with her tactical team.”
“What do I need from her?” I asked.
“A description of what made the explosion,” he said plainly. “All we know is that it was a truck.”
I looked up on the main screen as the military brass had the satellite footage rewind and play back, over and over.
“I think I can get it from the imagery we have,” I said.
He paused before nodding. “Okay. Do what you can, but have someone locate her. You are the only one on base representing the Agency except for her. Others will be there before morning, but the first couple hours are the most critical.”
I nodded my understanding. “What’s her name and what does she look like?” I asked.
“I’ve already sent you the package,” he replied, tension in his voice. “Print it out and have someone go get her while you backtrail that truck. We need to know where it came from.”
“Aye aye, Captain,” I replied plainly. “Let me know if there’s anything else I can do.”
“Thanks Scott,” he said sincerely. “Let me know if you find something. Ask for whatever you need—they’ll give it to you.”
I nodded just as the video feed went dead. I pulled up my secure projects server at TravTech and accessed the project list. On top was ‘flash traffic’. I popped the bundle open, decrypted it, and began organizing the files in a new folder. As soon as I came across the Agent file, I printed her picture and hand wrote her first and last name on the paper.
“Where’s Griggs?” I asked in a whisper.
Piper leaned over to me. “Outside in case you need transport,” she said.
“Give this to him,” I said, handing her the printout with Charlotte's information a
nd picture. “She’s probably on base or at the medical center. She was on site during the explosion but apparently not injured…I need to talk to her.”
Piper nodded and left the room with the image. I brought up a mini version of what was playing on the big monitors in the room and then isolated the image of the truck that had been the source of all the destruction.
While the frames were spooling into data, I pulled out my phone, opened a secure link, and then dialed Storc.
“What's up,” he asked. “I thought you were on some secret mission or something.”
“I need some help,” I replied. “I've got a data stream spooling from video, and I'm gonna need to DIFF it once it's done.”
“Are you converting it back to imagery after you extract?” he asked. I could already hear his keyboard clacking in the background.
“Yes,” I replied. “The stacking software we use for pulling security camera detail should be fine.”
“The astronomy package?” he asked.
“Yeah.”
“Why don't you just download it from the Oxford astronomy website?” he asked.
“The copy we have is modified,” I replied as I adjusted the system resources on the Air Force computer to give me a little more processing power.
“Ah,” he said and then clacked away more feverishly in the background.
The images were pretty decent for satellite…but then again, the government had access to better satellites than I was used to dealing with.
It was a box truck, fairly nondescript from the angle of the image I had, so I shuffled through the other satellite images to see if there were any overlapping recordings. There were two others; one was on the horizon at the time of the incident, and the other offered a slightly different angle from above. I created a map overlay of the scene, and then linked all three satellite images to the target coordinates.
“I'm sending you a data stream of time indexes,” I said to Storc.
“Okay,” he replied. “Is this real-time processing?”
I hesitated to answer fully. “Sort of,” I replied. “The footage is from about an hour ago, but I want to process it as you feed the keys back to me. So treat it like live processing.”