by Greg Ellis
Chapter 8 Slayer
"You will forget all pass acquaintances. As far as the rest of the world is concerned you disappeared grief stricken after the battle at Mars." Those were some of the first words Joel heard after accepting his new position. Training was tough but not what Joel had expected. After a month Peter cracked a large grin. "You’re ready, and just in time too. We have the time and place of a meeting between Gog and his superior. The room where they will be has already been bugged but I want you on hand to listen to the voices and confirm identifies. You are one of a very small number who have heard Gog and lived to tell the tale." Peter handed him a gun. "Laser Pistol," Joel asked excitedly. Peter laughed. "The power requirements would be extreme for that. Closest thing we have is an evaporation ray and you only get three shots with it. Great for assassinations though. Only leaves a trace if you know what chemicals and compounds to look for in the air and few people ever look for them. Anyways what you got there is just a standard handgun. Don't use it unless absolutely necessary." "Understood." "Your ride leaves in a hour and you'll be there about a day ahead of the meeting. Stay out of sight and don't get caught. Good luck."
The ride was uneventful. So were the hours leading up to the meeting. For what felt like an hour Joel was in a building next to the abandoned one where the meeting was suppose to take place. It was dark out but the moon shined brilliantly. Waiting and more waiting. There was nothing interesting on his tablet and no noise coming through the headphones. If there was one thing Joel hated it was waiting. Also on the list was people dying, especially people he knew personally. His thoughts turned to Ashley. He started to well up. No the mission first, cry later. He missed her so much. No stop. Ashley wasn't the only one to die. Then his thought turned to the agent he met during his incarceration. That was just as tragic. Wait was her name? Joel was shocked he couldn't think of it. Did he even ask what it was? Doesn't matter. Mission first. He heard movement. "Not here yet. Typical!" The voice was undeniably Gog.
A device sounded like it was powering up. "Finally," Gog muttered. "You have done what I have asked?" "Yes. Israel will be invaded according to your specifications." "Good," came the other voice sounding pleased. "Is there more? Anything else?" "No but make sure it doesn't happen till the event occurs. Everyone will be off their guard then." "Those are the standing orders that have been given." The device sounded like it was powering down.
Gog whoever he was he was responsible for the chaos Joel thought. Anger swelled up in him like he had never felt before. He must pay. For Ashley! For the girl whose name he didn't know! For everyone who had died as a result of UARS actions! Joel heard a door creak. He smiled. Only one exit could make that noise. He ran but made sure he made no noise. When the target was in sight he ran even faster. When he was a few feet away he cocked the gun and pointed it and the back of Gog's head yelling, "Don’t move." Gog turned around again. "You again," he said with a mild annoyance. "You will pay for your crimes." "Of that I have doubt. Aren't you at least going to offer me a trade of information for my life that you think is so pitiful?" "Fine but make it snappy." "A magicians greatest trick is not that he makes something disappear. It's that he can misdirect you so he can make the thing vanish." "What the hell is that suppose to mean? Magicians went out of style when holograms came in."
Gog shook his head in amazement. He sighed. "It means all this could be an elaborate misdirection to keep you from the real truth." "Or your making up an elaborate hoax to save your life, pitiful as it may be." "Well it's obvious you’re not going to believe me so your only recourse is to shoot me or turn me. It's also obvious you're incapable of the former. Your no killer." "But you are. Probably hundreds if not thousands died because of you. You’re worse than the butcher ever was." "Now that is a matter of perspective. Five years down the road people will be applauding the decisions I made in these days." That did it. If he weren't already insanely mad that would have ignited ever bit of fury he had. Smug little bast-. A shot rang out. Joel turned quickly but not quickly enough to miss the sight of the deformed face of Gog as he fell. Joel ran never looking back. He couldn't stop running. What had he done? What he was he going to do? Ditch the weapon was the first thing he thought of. He ran a few blocks and buried it in a trash bin. I've got to get out of this country he thought. So he ran to where his ride should be waiting. The pilot was there. "Hey what are you doing here?" "Met with resistance. Need immediate evac." "Yes sir." They both quickly hopped into the plane.
Why did people say revenge was good? He shot a man in cold blood for revenge, in the face no less. Who would claim the body and cry to see it disfigured in that way? He could not shake the image of that face. It burned into his memory and for all the water he tried to throw on it nothing could stop that image from haunting Joel. Why oh why did he do it? Wait what are they going to say back home? No push that thought aside. What would he do? Was there a way he could spin this? Gog was the leader of the enemy. Yes he did it to assassinate a high leader of the enemy to try and cripple the command structure.
...
"I did it to assassinate a high leader of the enemy to try and cripple the command structure." "Why do I not find that believable? Your orders were to observe only. No engagement unless fired upon. What was so hard to understand about that? I had to send a cleanup crew in. Leaving the body in plain site and leaving the gun only a few blocks away. You can't even assassinate someone right. You are done. You'll be spending the rest of you're life in a CIA detention cell."
But he didn't. Apparently some higher ups in the CIA liked the idea of the assassination even as sloppy as it was. Joel suffered no major consequences. He was no longer part of the CIA but he was more or less free. He was not allowed to leave Colorado Springs or contact anyone he knew for at least four months but that didn't bother him since the only person he would want to contact was Simon. With his military and CIA career shot it was nearly impossible to contact him till he got back to Earth. Not getting punished was almost as bad as whatever punishment he would have received. Nothing could assuage his guilt. At least with punishment he would either be dead or in prison. With death he would not be feeling guilt and with prison maybe he would feel like he was paying his debt to society. Or at least be happy in the fact he could no longer hurt it. Months passed and Joel wallowed in beer and depression. The doorbell rang. That was strange. No one ever came by. It rang again. "Package for a Joel Jordal. You need to sign for it." He opened the door and took the clipboard handed to him. "You don't so good." "I'm fine. Just fine" The deliveryman did not look convinced. He handed the package to Joel quickly and left with a hollow have a nice day.
Joel slammed the door and threw the package into the middle of the room. He went back to the chair he was sitting in before contemplating ending his existence. He smelt an awful smell. It was coming from the package. He opened it. There was a head in it. Decomposition looked like the beheading happened only a few days ago Joel thought. Then he recognized the face. He rushed to grab a phone and call Peter. He got no answer but got an answering machine. “It's Joel. Someone sent me the female agents head that was killed when I stole the blackjack. They must have had it on ice or something because the decomposition doesn't seem that bad." He hung up. He had no clue what to do with the head.
Why would someone send a head to him in the first place? He was baffled. The more he thought about it the puzzled he became. Then it hit him. It was a taunt. The AU was taunting him saying the attack was about to happen and there was nothing he could do about it. He ran and hopped in a car. He didn't have much of a plan but he knew where he needed to go and the only thing capable of getting him there in time was at Peterson.
When he got there the guard asked for ID. He handed the guard his driver’s license. "Military ID sir. I can't let you on this base without military ID or someone vouching for you. "The president, Commander in Chief, will vouch for me. Obviously there has been some slip up in communications but the president ordered me to Washington ASAP and I need a s
huttle to get me there as fast as she wants. Surely the Bagel is still here?" "It is Sir." "Radio ahead. Have it prepped." "That would be a huge breach of protocol." "Well it will most likely be a breach of protocol or your head. Which would you prefer?" The gates opened. "It should be ready when you arrive at the strip."
Joel couldn't believe that actually worked and he was sitting in a beagle class shuttle. "Ship set a course to Israel. Enter subspace for maximum speed." "More specific destination required." "I don't know. Big city near the coast." "Tel Aviv?" "Sure why not? Any bases there?" "There's Camp Rabin" "Great head there." The ship started to take off. "Bagel you are not authorized for flight and especially not to Tel Aviv." "You filed a flight plan? Infernal machine! Ignore what he says and get me there. I am on a special mission sanctioned by the president herself." The ship complied. When it got to Tel Aviv and exited subspace three fighter jets were in position to strike.