by Utley, Todd
At the airport, another man with a very similar build and look to that of John’s, boarded the airplane on first call. He was wearing cheap sunglasses, a cowboy hat, a black western shirt, cowboy boots, and blue jeans. He had a carryon bag with him that contained the usual things you need when you travel but it also contained a Nike golf hat, designer sunglasses, a business suite, dress shoes, a solid red tie, and blue dress shirt. John boarded that same plane moments later under the watchful eye of a man reading a newspaper in the boarding area; one of Cyrus’s quiet but ever present watchers. The man had a tiny camera inside of his eyeglasses; he took a picture of John as he walked past which he promptly forwarded to a watcher in Nevada. John was wearing designer sunglasses, a business suite, dress shoes, a blue dress shirt, and a solid red tie. He had been alerted to the watcher’s location by team members and was careful to turn his head away as he passed by the man to prevent him from getting a good picture of his face.
He also had a carryon bag containing the usual things he would need plus a cowboy hat, boots, blue jeans, a black western shirt, and some cheap sunglasses, in fact the items were an exact match to those worn by the man already on board. During the flight the two men both excused themselves for a few minutes to the restroom on board the plane taking their carryon bags. They both changed clothes while in the restrooms and then swapped seats when they returned. A clever switch had been made.
Several hours later at the airport in Nevada a watcher was waiting. He observed what appeared to be John Calhoun getting off the plane and meeting a driver that was holding a sign up that said Calhoun on it; the driver was sent by John’s friend of course. He didn’t snap a picture, there was no need, it was very obvious that this was the same man from the photo his counterpart sent to him earlier. The suit and Nike hat were unmistakable; his work done, he got up and left the terminal to follow the man he believed to be John Calhoun. Fifteen minutes later a stewardess woke up the last remaining passenger on the plane.
“Sir,” she said, as she gently shook the man in the cowboy hat.
“We’ve landed Sir, it’s time to disembark.”
“Sorry Ma’am,” he said, as he got up slowly, “I guess I dozed off.”
He tipped his hat in southern style to the nice lady as he stepped past her toward the exit.
John Calhoun exited the plane dressed as a cowboy. He burned the next two hours at one of the airport pubs where he was handily hit on by two stewardesses that like cowboys and one female pilot that claimed she loved horses. He had no idea that the cowboy look drew so much female attention. One big juicy burger and three beers later he boarded his return flight to Indianapolis under the fake identity of Bill Schneider. He settled into his seat and went right sleep with his hat down over his eyes. One nice long nap later the plane landed back in good ole Indiana.
He left the airport in an old pickup truck that his cousin dropped off earlier that day in the pay to park lot. Meanwhile back in Nevada John’s friend was showing a complete stranger a real good time while pretending he was his good friend John Calhoun. He took him out on the town to several bars and two Casinos just as John had requested. He couldn’t wait to hear the explanation for this one in a week or so.
One hour later John arrived at the farm; it was nearly midnight but everyone was still up working on the details of exactly how they would attack the compound. John walked in with his cowboy disguise on and everyone started laughing at him and calling him various names ranging from Tex to Partner, and finally, Cowboy Bob which Alan had to explain to everyone else who had never heard of Cowboy Bob because it was a hundred year old reference. John laughed along with them but couldn’t wait to get the boots off, he said they were a little small and beginning to really hurt his feet.
After John changed they all gathered around two large tables that JC and DC had set up in part of the extra garage area. This was fast becoming their make shift command center because it was a large area where everyone could gather and it had plenty of electrical outlets for John’s computer equipment. He had to move a few items around to his liking, but for the most part, they had it hooked up right.
Within the next twelve hours Linsey and Sarah would also be arriving at the Farm and would be staying there during the attack on the compound. They would be leaving the house separately to go shopping and that was when the team would be extracting them from their situation. Once out of the house the Black Ops team would be assisting both Linsey and Sarah in losing their watchers in unsuspecting ways so that they could be whisked out to the farm without being followed.
Even though the watchers would be reporting that they had lost track of the two women, it would quickly become irrelevant. Operation Black Ice would be well under way before anyone figured out why they were missing or how they had given Cyrus’s men the slip. They continued working until about 1:00 a.m. when they decided it was time to get some sleep, after all, tomorrow was shaping up to be a very big day that would require everyone being well rested and sharp witted.
At the compound Toby and Todd were plotting out precisely how they would round people up once the attack began. They would be given as ten minute warning, but they felt that was only sufficient for them to get the people that were already in on the plan into the oven safely. As for the rest of the people, they would have to catch them at the right time in order to make them realize that they really needed to get in that oven if they wanted to live. The people that still didn’t know what was coming really had only two options, stand with Cyrus and die alongside him during the fire fight, or die later when Cyrus transmitted his death signal, even if they managed to escape it during the onslaught, the head bombs would get them in the end.
The logic was simple, Cyrus would not allow a deserter to live. He also wouldn’t let any0ne go on living if he managed to escape after the battle. He simply couldn’t allow any lose ends. Anyone of these underlings could develop a very active conscience later and decide to testify against him. There was no way Cyrus would allow that to happen. If they alerted people in the compound too soon one of them might sound the alarm and ruin their crucial element of surprise. If they waited too long, there wouldn’t be enough time to get people into the oven and many innocent people that hated Cyrus would perish for no good reason.
This was a very delicate situation that would require very precise handling. Cheyenne had been informed by Todd that this was all about to happen but she was stuck on the outside at the house. She wanted to come to the compound but was not allowed to show up unannounced. They were trying to think of a reason to get her to the compound but hadn’t come up with anything, then Toby had an idea that might work.
The Caddy had a wheel out of balance and the rear view mirror had still not been fixed. Todd went down to the maintenance area where some of the vans and watcher cars got serviced. He spoke with the head mechanic and requested that the Caddy get looked at. The mechanic knew about the camera being broken but didn’t let on to Todd that it was about to be called in for repair. Nobody really cared about the mirror, instead it was the non functioning camera and audio that Glitch wanted fixed. The mechanic put it in the lineup and sure enough Cheyenne got a message on her skyphone to bring the Caddy in the next day at 7:00 a.m. for standard service and to repair the mirror.
Cheyenne was really excited about being in the compound with the rest of them when it all went down. Not only would she be there but she intended to help in any way she could. She felt it was the least she could do to repay Toby and the entire team for taking a chance on her. She hoped to meet Dodge and John when this was all over with so that she could personally thank them for saving her life.
It was very late now and every team member was down for the night. Some had fallen asleep quickly due to sheer exhaustion from the busy day they had put in preparing for the assault on the compound. Still others lay awake staring at the ceiling or their clock hoping to fall asleep soon but still too worked up to sleep.
Dodge and Linsey were reunited at the fa
rm earlier that evening. They held each other for a long time and cried, and then they laughed, they were so glad to be together in a safe place. Linsey was emotionally exhausted and needed to be with her husband, she had been so strong now for so long but when he put his arms around her she broke down. She was so afraid for Bobby and Matt after witnessing their heroine escape from Cyrus’s men at the house. Having to kill a man just about destroyed her emotionally, but her Motherly instinct and her training kicked in when she needed them the most.
She was already devastated at having to see her dead husband being carried out of their charred kitchen in a body bag, it was just too much, they were all ready for this whole thing to be over with. After their reunion she met his clone, DC, and they all got a good laugh when she hugged him for a long time and then felt his arms and shoulders with a big grin on her face. It was quite hilarious and the jokes went on for a while about who was bunking with whom tonight.
Now, down the hall, DC lay silently staring at the ceiling by himself. He had all the same feelings for Linsey that Dodge had for her, yet he had to lay there alone until morning. He longed for that time to come. He knew that the sooner he fell asleep the sooner he would wake up having remembered spending the entire night with Linsey just like Dodge was right now. When morning came, he too would share the memory. It was a strange feeling for both of them, there was no jealousy at all, it wasn’t like that, it was a pure feeling of total harmony that couldn’t be explained.
The whole Surrogate and Clone situation had taken another humorous turn earlier that evening. Nearly everyone had witnessed JC and John getting into a heated debate about the plan of attack. Everyone had stopped what they were doing and just looked at them both while grinning. It was only then that both of them realized the humor in it.
John looked around at everyone.
“Haven’t any of you argued with yourself before?” The whole room erupted into laughter and then Dodge suggested that they both “sleep on it” which caused another wave of laughter. Everyone knew what happened when a clone and surrogate slept. It would be impossible for them to disagree in the morning.
Over the past several days, Alan and two of the Black Ops weapons experts had spent almost thirty hours each putting the finishing touches on the three military vehicles in their private arsenal. They were in very good working order now and all the guns were loaded, oiled and ready to go. It was down to just a few hours now, so Alan spent about two hours checking over things one last time to be sure he hadn’t missed anything.
Before daylight they would be leaving to get into their positions for the attack later in the morning. John had obtained special permits for the vehicles to be on the road by hacking into a database of museum curators and finding that there was an armament show down in Tennessee the following weekend. He added their three vehicles to the list of those that would be traveling in the area to the show down south.
This clever move insured that there would be no trouble with law enforcement if they happened to get stopped on the way to Indy from Lapel. Their I.D. papers and permits would all check out as civilians transporting show pieces to the special event down south. Even the men in the back of the truck had permits to be there as actors posing as soldiers to bring realism to their exhibit.
Alan was drifting off to sleep now, looking forward to the action he was about to face. He couldn’t wait to unleash some good old fashioned justice on Cyrus Slade and anyone that dared to stand with that bastard when they got there. He felt strong and he felt confident that when the smoke cleared they would be the victors.
Before the dawns early light, Alan and five members of the Black Ops team were piloting the two humvees and the five ton. The six men piloting the three trucks pulled into the warehouse four blocks west of the old foundry just as the sun was cresting the horizon. They radioed as they approached and an overhead door on the west side went up. They drove in and the door closed quickly behind their vehicles.
Inside they were greeted by eighteen men that had already arrived. The Captain of the Team was standing in front of a large digiboard speaking with a few of the men that had gathered. He was sipping on a steaming cup of black coffee. He paused when he spotted Alan Kerrington, he immediately approached Alan and saluted him in true military form. Alan reciprocated the gesture, after which they relaxed and shook hands.
“Hello Major Kerrington, it’s a pleasure and an honor to see you again Sir” he said while still shaking Alan’s hand vigorously. Some of the other men nearby paused to see what was going on.
“Thank you again for your incredible service to our country and of course to my family, I just want to say I consider it an honor to serve alongside you today.”
“Thank you Captain, the pleasure is mine, I’m just glad to be here to help.” Alan walked over to get a cup of coffee from the table on the far side of the room and one of the team members asked the Captain who Alan was.
“That’s a true American Hero there boys, his platoon was deployed into Iraq after 9/11. They got cut off from their support for six days. Alan and one other member of their platoon were the only ones left when it was over. They were under fire for twenty-six hours straight and took out fifty-eight enemy combatants between the two of them. When they finally walked out of it and back towards their own camp they had both sustained gunshot wounds. As a result his comrade almost didn’t make it. Major Kerrington carried him on his back for the last twelve miles. That man was my Father. My Father would tell that story to me and my brother over and over and just shake his head in wonder. How did Alan carry him that far with a bullet in his own thigh? My Father died years later from lung cancer. Alan Kerrington came to the funeral. He’s the only one left now from his platoon, got the purple heart alongside my Father for what they did. Alan knew they were talking about him so he went the other way and started looking at the trucks again.
He appreciated their thoughts but he didn’t like talking about what happened in Iraq, it was just too painful to go back into those memories. He didn’t even bring it up with his own family because it was in the past and he only did there what any man who loved his country would have done. He knew that he had a lot of luck and the good Lord above watching over him during that mess.
The rest of the team members had arrived now and were standing around in groups talking a bit and drinking coffee. It was almost 6:30 a.m., John and Dodge were just arriving in a black van and there were two more Black Ops vans behind them with the rest of the technical crew. The tech crew was those people that would not be actually going into the compound, they would be manning the command post running interference for those on the inside just in case any law enforcement personnel or emergency workers were to enter the perimeter or cause any problems.
Tech would have the ability to divert law enforcement, change traffic signals on command, hijack security cams, reroute fire trucks and ambulance runs, just about anything they might need that required a geek. They had already planned several elaborate diversions including two fires and one convenience store robbery just in case it was a slow day for law enforcement and they happened to be in the area.
Bobby volunteered to help watch monitors and bring drinks to anyone that needed one. Caitlin, Linsey, Sarah, Matt, and Jason were all back at the farm and would also be watching monitors. Each person had several team members assigned to them. They would watch their backs as best they could. All the team members had front and rear helmet cams. Those watching monitors were patched into their ear pieces. If there was any danger approaching them from behind their spotter would warn them. They literally had eyes on the backs of their heads.
“Attention everyone,” the Black Ops Team Captain was calling everyone to the command area.
“Please everyone, gather in. First I want to thank each of you for being here today, you’re about to become part of history in the next few hours. Welcome to the final stage of Operation Black Ice.”
Everyone started clapping and it went on for a few seconds until
the Captain raised his hands to get them quiet again.
“We appreciate your enthusiasm, now let’s get down to business. This operation is very unique as it’s the first ever covert operation to be carried out by 100% civilian forces. Our team that is assembled here today has many elite members and former military and law enforcement members within it but not one of us is still a government employee or a local law enforcement employee. For one reason or another all of our jobs were eliminated.”
“Our government thought they didn’t need our services any longer, we were considered outdated in a time of peace, in a time of high technology they thought that we as people were antiquated and that they could replace us with machines that could keep an eye on things. The trouble is the machines don’t have a conscience and they can be easily reprogrammed by the likes of Cyrus Slade and his partner Glitch.”
“What we’re about to do here today will be the first of its kind but probably not the last. Let’s hope our government will wake up and realize the danger we’re all in and how insecure our country is and then reinstate the organizations that we need to protect our country. More than ever intellectual property has become the most valuable asset we as mankind possess and there will be ever increasing attempts to obtain total control over it.”
“I would also like to mention that without Mr. Dodge Kerrington, and Mr. John Calhoun, none of this would be possible today, they have fathered this entire technology and Mr. Calhoun has single handedly financed this entire operation.” Another short round of applause broke out.
“All right everyone this is it, the final stage of Operation Black Ice is on! Everyone to your post, LETS MOVE OUT!”
As the group began to disperse, the Captain gave one more order.
“Everyone channel up on your com links, take your orders from your team leaders, you know what to do.” Twenty-five men armed with old school M-16s and also modern LRPs (laser rifle repeaters) loaded up in the back of the five ton. They had been tagged Team Chaos, they would be the last to go in and lay waste to any combatants that remained to stand with Slade.