by Cara Charles
Billboard advertising teams were fanning out from their locations near the freeways N101 and S101 and Hwy 1, 405, 126, 210, the 5 and the 14.
Desiree now called her Baltimore team captain Trevor a.k.a. ‘T’.
“Trevor? We’ve got a Level Four breach. It’s Mavra. She’s coming for Amanda and possibly Joseph. Sorry for the short notice. If I’ve forgotten anything carry on and report later. Many balls in the air, here. Orca is missing. Janitor can’t assist. He wants to maintain his cover. You’re in command of the East Coast Ops. Good Luck.”
BY EVERY MEANS possible for hours, Elise tried to reach her husband and daughter at their Mammoth condo, at the ski resort, the sheriff, her security detail’s office. Even her burner phone wouldn’t work. Little did she know all of their cells had been compromised and the little community of Mammoth Mountain had experienced ‘phone lines down’ all day due to the heavy snows.
Elise stayed on the boat just off shore in Santa Barbara, and waited, but kept calling Mammoth just to get the message the lines were still down. Their plan was for them to get to the boat which would be in one of two places. So Elise waited, praying nothing was wrong.
Tom and Lara didn’t worry because they’d gotten a message from Elise earlier around 0930, that she was going to stay home for the weekend to recuperate after all, therefore she would not meet them at the condo and to have fun skiing and snowboarding.
“To whom life is heavy, the Earth will be light.” – Steinkiewicz
CHAPTER TEN -- LOUDOUN COUNTY NATIONAL CEMETERY
LOUDOUN COUNTY, MARYLAND
0212 EST, 18 DECEMBER
THE ANCIENT NATIONAL CEMETERY that cradled the honored dead since the Civil War was devoid of footsteps, full of wind and the groans of the aged iron entrance gate straining against the heavy chain. The rustle of long dead leaves harmonized with the sigh of the hallowed ground. Long since full to capacity, it could hold no other heroes. Every stone represented a story of untold heroism marking that hero’s ultimate contribution to a better world.
In Section M, a forgotten corner near a domed mausoleum bordered by whispering oaks and beyond, a neighborhood of growing families, ARW a.k.a. WW II Army Nurse AMANDA ROSE WASHINGTON slept under her stone that ID’d her as, WWII ANC CAPTAIN. Born October 27, 1924 died July 5, 1945 in service to her country. Once again, Amanda would be called into service for the greater good.
Kate Silva, the head of the cemetery and a West Point grad was running on her treadmill when her secure Blackberry rang still plugged into its charger. She nearly fell as she ran for the study and grabbed her METAPHOR Blackberry off the highest shelf. She hoped it was Trevor.
“Silva.”
“Kate? It’s T.”
“T? What’s up?” Kate was breathless, but happy it was Trevor.
“We need you right now Kate. Damn short notice, I know. Dear’s overwhelmed. Orca is missing. We’ve hustled to get the decoys armed. Dear thinks they’re coming for Amanda. Now!”
“I felt it. Can you share?”
‘Shaking’s not good, girl.’ Kate held the phone with both hands.
“There’s been a breach.”
“Bad?”
“The worst. If we give Amanda false cover, we can end it here.”
“Understood. Who and how many?”
“Kimirov. Mavra. The red headed billionairess. The jet set media glory whore.”
“She bored? Billions aren’t enough? Jesus! The rich are different.”
“She’s got a genetics lab ready to act. You onboard as the Scout?”
“My pleasure. Did you like the gate I made for you?”
“Nice surprise.”
“I’ll come in on your nine, in the tree line. ETA fifteen minutes.”
“Roger that. How are your skills?”
“Expert. Made Distinguished Rifleman of the CMP last month.”
As an honored member and near original graduating class of the 197th Infantry Brigade at Fort Benning, GA. Sniper Kate was never out of practice.
“Damn impressive. So comforting we can always count on you, Kate. Good ideas are your strong suit. Dear is too close. Love her as I do, I think she’s ready to hand this mission off.”
“Her lifetime has been too much to give, T. We all have our limits.”
“Copy that! We’re a team of six. ID on our throats, got your ID?”
“I do. All these years of drills, this had better not be for nothing. Out.”
Kate, the Kuwait/Iraq I Army vet, ran back into her walk-in closet, stripping off sweat soaked clothes, opened her old footlocker, grabbed her terry robe, vigorously dried the sweat. Kevlar vest was on top, she hurriedly dressed in her night gear. She ran to the bathroom, ran back with her hairdryer, grabbed her rifle bag and ammo on the shelf, above her. Kate Silva, West Point grad class of 1988 was hurrying out the door with her new pal, issue Sharpshooter rifle with its Magnum Universal night sight that fires a 7.62 mm round with incredible accuracy. But it wasn’t a kill mission, yet. Just a mark and warn mission. She’d use non-Magnum ammo. But be prepared with the lethal ammo and their cocktail ammo. It occurred to her, she’d kept up her skills for nearly twenty-five years, honored to be among the International vets in METAPHOR, contributing to this cause.
Trevor settled in the blind off of Collins Avenue watching Mavra Kimirov’s digging crew. They’d arrived early. They would make fast work of the hallowed ground.
Dear woke up his ulcer, ‘Not like her to forget us. Must be raw on her end.’
T checked his Glock and watched for Kate,“Will be like last time, we’ll dig deeper and plant them under the casket. Got the Lime?”
“Roger that.”
Ape, their big guy looked at their two buddies in camo behind him. Locked and loaded.
“And the acid,” Hooter, the one behind T said.
Mondo, their number two let out a hiss imitating the acid.
They all laughed.
T called the three-man chase crew in the warm truck waiting. Kate was ingenious.
Kate drove a METAPHOR car and came in from the north, Trevor’s wrist radar said. She was just off Collins closing in on the hidden service entrance, like she belonged in the neighborhood. METAPHOR owned a house there with a tunnel into the cemetery masked with the pool they’d built. She parked inside the safe house’s garage in case there were spotters. About a hundred yards away you could see lights, near Amanda’s grave. Kate was late.
T knew she had busted her ass to get there. They’d all learned to stress her a bit, that’s when she did her best work. T parked their electric extraction rig in the tree blind far out of sight of any recon team. Their custom fitted hybrid electric truck assured stealth. He’d split up his team now. When Kate got into position she’d be in the tree line, and have their backs to the West. They all had thermo-binoculars and thermo-scopes on their rifles.
When they got into position they could see how far along the Kimirov team was. They were pretty damn close to getting into that vaulted coffin.
Mavra Kimirov and her five-man extraction team, with her five-man perimeter team, felt safe. They’d almost removed all the dirt from Amanda Rose Washington’s grave. They’d found her social security number and where she was buried. Amanda had tragically survived the war but died in England, after an undetected buzz bomb exploded on July 5, 1945. They wanted a hair sample to match the one Mavra had found in her grandfather’s briefcase when it was still in his safe in his penthouse in New York City.
It was cold and Mavra was impatient, sitting in the truck with her Dragunov sniper rifle with silencer. It was a miracle she found one in the States. For the heck of it, she thought she’d look through her night scope to see if she could spot a raccoon to shoot. One man was fanning out. So, there was something here to protect. She watched him get into position. There were two more. Mavra caught Dimitri’s attention.
“Found something, Princessa?”
“Not sure. Maybe kids. Maybe deer. How much longer?”
“Five minutes tops.”
Dimitri in black face grease turned his attention back to Amanda, while Mavra watched the night camo figures move into position. Carlos had flown to California, but told D he was sitting this one out. He lied.
What Mavra didn’t know, Kate’s body temp robotic decoys were drawing her out.
T’s team in cold gel gear was in position on her three. There were so many of them. A very big hole would be needed. They’d create another garden with the extra dirt.
Kate’s wrist phone lit up, ‘Wing only, Mavra in truck. Has Dragunov.’
‘Why not take her out?’ Kate was pissed. ‘So, the moneyed Bitch is a marksman.’
Kimirov was tiny. Kate might miss, and shoot her pretty red head off.
One of the Kimirov team walked to the truck and spoke to someone inside.
Kate in her spot, T, and crew listened in.
“We’ve hit the container,” D said.
T thought he knew that voice.
The crane came into place. Within a minute it was lifting out the concrete vault.
Mavra got her bag, and scissors ready, then jogged over to the vault. She handed them off to Dimitri.
“You do this. I want to watch the tree line.”
“You are too blood thirsty, Princessa.”
T still couldn’t see who Mavra was talking to. T didn’t want to believe it.
Mavra ran to the truck. She climbed up on the hood with her rifle on her belly, and was now watching for movement in the trees.
Kate’s trigger finger was itching to explode Mavra’s arrogant head all over that cab like a shattered melon. Kate saw it in her mind’s eye.
‘Her biggest challenge in life is stifling boredom, and making the news. Maybe she even had a hand in killing old Ivan.’
Being a SCOUT SNIPER had given Kate many hours to think about the important things in life. How Kate justified what she did with her skills was something she discussed with Chaplain Waley who had said in a Desert tent service, ‘Sometimes wars must be fought to defend love.’
Kate lived that statement. It gave Kate resonance.
‘Defending love.’
That was why she was a perfect fit for METAPHOR. Their mission was to preserve love.
She knew the old METAPHOR vets had searched for meaning their entire careers, because she had too. But once she joined METAPHOR, she no longer felt wasted. Her husband had died last year and she had had a lot of trouble getting back in the saddle of life. Missions with T made her feel alive again.
Kate prayed her grieving was over. Kate keyed her mic, twice.
“Team? Fire at will! Fire at will.”
T, his team, and decoys fired on the Kimirov team.
Kate remained disengaged as ordered, watching Mavra.
‘Oh. The bitch has had training.’
Through her scope, Mavra took out the decoys easily as her team returned the fire.
Yev had only slipped off the concrete lid when he got hit. Suddenly, all her men were down. Only Dimitri was pinned behind the vault. He pulled his mask into place.
Mavra had to get the sample.
Her gloves in her pocket, Mavra threw the Dragunov over her shoulder and ran for the bag. Dr. Wise told her not to contaminate the sample. Mavra caught the bag. Dirt jumped up in her face. She ran an irregular pattern before the professionals could take proper aim. The bullets whizzed by her, any second they’d hit her, unless they were trying not to hit her. That idea hit her like a freight train.
Mavra stood up, her arms out like ‘come on! Take me out!’
Defiantly, she put on her exam gloves. All shooting stopped. Mavra looked down and saw red lasers on her chest. In horror, she watched it move to her left armpit as a bullet pierced her jacket.
“Here’s looking at you, you cocky little bitch.” Right then, Kate decided to take out a real piece of her and aimed.
Mavra screamed. Her hand flew up to her ear and brought back a hand full of blood. She screamed full of rage, now.
Kate nicked her ear, her new legendary shot.
“Not quite like breaking a nail, is it girlfriend?”
T watched through his scope.
“Way to go Kate! Whittle her away.”
He hated Dear’s hold order, but knew Dear had plans for her and her Kimirov money. Dear was a genius at strategy.
Mavra returned fire to each of the muzzle flashes she saw.
“Bastards!” She screamed at the trees.
Kate hit the Dragunov.
It flew out of Mavra’s hands. She crawled for it.
“Princessa! Stay down. For God sake!” Dimitri yelled at her.
Kate knew Mavra would not stop. Kate swung the rifle to where Mavra would stand.
Kate waited for her to cut the hair sample.
Mavra ran into the shot. She opened the casket bending over the body.
Kate watched her auburn hair fly up. It made a nice hole in the coffin lid.
Mavra ducked, keeping her head down, then cut and plucked a chunk of hair from what was left of Amanda Washington, stuffed it in the evidence bag and crammed it up her sleeve.
Mavra dared a glimpse.
Kate shot through her hair again.
Amanda was very well preserved for being in the box, some seven decades.
Yev went down again as he reached for Mavra to help him.
Mavra and Dimitri were alone.
Kate followed Mavra in her scope.
Mavra ran for the truck, bobbing and weaving as T and crew missed her by inches. Mavra got in the truck and started it.
They shot out her headlights.
Dimitri ran for the passenger side.
Mavra kept her head under the dash.
Kate waited.
Dimitri put the truck in gear, “Use your mirrors, head down. Back out. Now!”
Feeling bored and cocky herself, Kate put a shot dead center of the driver’s windshield. Mavra backed all the way up to the road, head down watching her mirrors. When she’d gotten onto the road she did a K maneuver and took off toward the gate, as Kate laid out a pattern all around Mavra’s head, eventually shattering all her mirrors, windows, and windshields.
Kate giggled, hearing that prissy little scream of Mavra’s when a shot missed her.
T’s chase crew on orders shot out her tires making her and D walk home from the party. The remaining team, T and Kate could hear the grind of metal on asphalt, as they left the cemetery.
T cautiously stepped out onto the lawn. T was bummed. He was sure that was D. His moves, his evasion, it was D. An old friend gone rogue.
No one was left alive to shoot. He turned toward Kate’s spot and waited. He was applauding her as she made her way to him.
T lit two cigars.
“Damn girl! You are so hot with that thing. Great job.”
“Stop it. You’re gonna make me blush.”
“Katie? You’re such a girl.”
Kate thought ‘glad you noticed.’
Trevor puffed on the cigars with that full mouth of his. And those hands. She’d wanted those hands on her for years. She’d always found his Irish good looks, his long, lean, swimmer’s body so appealing. But both of them had been committed. He’d been a widower two years now, as alone as she was.
The new way T looked at her now, the aching for him that began with his phone call was at maximum overdrive as she imagined her legs around his strong back, his mouth getting to know her, his hands picking up her hips...
“Damn fine shooting guys! She peed her pants. She got the hint.”
Kate was drunk in his presence. They both walked over to Amanda.
“Thanks Amanda.”
T closed the casket and leaned on it, puffing on his cigar. He put his arm around Kate because she always got the post mission adrenalin shakes.
Kate was smiling mysteriously while slowly breathing, trying to relax.
T kissed her on the cheek like he always did.
“I always look forward to tha
t.” Kate could barely breathe.
“I know you do.” T stepped away to check the dead.
“Cocky.”
“And you love it.”
“Says you.”
“Says your eyes. You’ve always been a bad liar.”
“That’s why I’m behind a gun and not in the field.”
“Skills like yours are as rare as the Mona Lisa.”
“Thanks T. That’s the nicest thing anyone has ever said. Even you.”
T walked around kicking the bodies. Then he thumb printed them electronically using a palm-sized computer. While his results chimed in he walked back to Kate, trying to hide her fine tremors.
The girl had too much heart.
T put his arm around her giving her his body heat. He’d seen her lose it after missions. Even cry.
She put her head on his shoulder. Her stomach quivered. Kate watched as T read the screens. “Romanians, mostly. One Russian.” T texted Dear. She responded quickly.
‘Good job Team Trevor. Nice shooting Kate! Clean up ETA 3 min. Dear Out.’
“Guys? Let’s go grab a beer.”
Kate smiled and shuddered, “I am so ready for a beer.”
T put his arm around her neck. They walked toward the tunnel.
T stopped and jerked her into a hard embrace. He kissed her hard, consuming her tender lips with his.
Kate pulled him in as deep as she could.
Someone whistled and said, “about fucking time!”
The guys went crazy with wolf calls, and flooded them with flashlights. “Go Katy, go Katy!”