by Mike Gomes
By instinct they all seemed to want to perform their jobs from the comfort of a desk in their own home. The idea of putting their unique set of skills to work in a jungle or a desert was all too much. Due to that, they almost all did work in that manner. They could hack their way into anything from afar never seeing what was happening on the ground. Falau felt this was a poor excuse for someone he was going to call a teammate. He liked the idea of having another person’s back and them having his. The feeling he always enjoyed from his younger days and his time in the military. There was a certain something to being part of a team where the stakes were life and death. It was something he could never explain but those who went through it with him felt the unmistakable bond.
“Wait! Go back one!” said Falau his interest being heightened by the fleeting glimpse he caught of the screen.
Tyler motioned his hand over the screen sending the page back one place. “You want a closer look at Tim?”
“Yes. What’s the deal with Tim? He is no kid.”
Staring back at the two friends was the image of a man with gray hair and wrinkles on his face. He looked weathered and hardened. His picture held no smile. It looked more like a mug shot than an identification picture. He was a man with years of experience with not just computers but life. He was nothing like the young computer hackers that had come before on the screen and that’s exactly what drew Falau to him.
“His name is Tim McCartney. 66 years old. Height 5 feet 9 inches. Weight 210 pounds,”
“Ok. What’s his past like?” inquired Falau looking closer at the picture on the screen. “Was he military?”
“Nice call. He was military.” commented Tyler, impressed that Falau could pick that up from just a picture. “He joined the United States Navy at age 18. Was quickly seen to be a leader and offered the opportunity to become an officer. He declined. Instead he applied to go special forces.”
“A Navy SEAL.”
“Bingo! Passed through the school with top marks. His profile with the SEALs talked about him being unbreakable and not willing to show pain even in the most difficult training. He also had a reputation for helping the guys around him when they got weak. Great stuff for the field but horrible when the instructors are trying to weed out the guys who should not make it. Lucky for him one of the older instructors saw his skills in this area and made sure the others knew what this guy had.”
“So how did he end up with us? Shouldn’t he be an admiral by now?”
“September 11, 2001 happened.” replied Tyler looking over to Falau. “When the towers came down it shook Tim to the core. He had been through it all with the SEALS. Over a hundred combat missions in some of the hardest places in the world. A point leader for SEAL Team Six. But the attack on the towers he saw as a faceless enemy. Terrorists don’t wear a uniform. He knew that computers and the information spreading on the internet was going to be the future for security. So he dove headlong into it.”
“Smart guy.” Falau said leaning back on the sofa. “He could see things happening before everyone else.”
“He used that big brain of his to learn everything that he could about computers. He got so good that he was able to hack his way into anything. Pentagon, CIA, FBI. He was gathering information and trying to disrupt the banking of the terrorist funders. Finally he leaves the military because the SEAL missions were taking up too much time from this. For 15 years he has been freelance. We approached him and he agreed to help us. He is a hands on guy. Likes being in the fields and not back behind a desk. He has no idea how old he is. That’s the weakness. He still thinks he can do the things he could as a kid.”
“Sounds like my kind of guy. I want him.”
“You sure about that? He could slow you down.”
“This guy has the brain and is battle tested. I want him.”
“You got him.”
Falau pulled himself back to the edge of the seat and watched as Tyler moved into a different section of his computer. A flurry of photographs of beautiful women popped up on the screen in thumbnail size.
“Your dating site?”
“Not quite. This is for your other teammate the one with specialized skills.”
“What do you mean by that? You said something like that before.”
“The guy you’re going to get is a Wall Street guy. They are used to a certain lifestyle. A beautiful woman can go a long way in gaining intel on him. They can get closer than you or I ever could.”
“I understand. I assume that they can all handle themselves in case any of these guys get a little too... handsy.”
“Falau this will be a member of your team who is fully capable of handling anything that comes her way. She will be in no need of a knight in shining armor.”
Falau smiled and nodded his head approvingly. Some habits were hard to break and Falau knew that despite his age he was old fashioned at heart.
“What about her?” said Falau pointing to a stunning woman with long dark hair and olive skin.
“Not her.” commanded Tyler attempting to move her from the screen.
“Come on pull up her profile”
“I don’t think she is the best fit for you.”
“I just want to take a look.”
Tyler stroked the screen to the left and up came the woman’s profile. She was more attractive than the thumbnail gave her credit for. Her skin was flawless and smooth. She wore a minimum of makeup and her hair looked naturally beautiful and not styled to perfection the way a model would. But more striking than anything were her eyes. They are almond shaped and an intoxicating hazel. Her eyes appeared to follow you the way a master painter could make his great works do.
“Her name is Gabriela but her code name is Mantis.”
“Mantis? Why?”
“Mantis as in preying Mantis.”
“The insect?” questioned Falau.
“Yes. The female of the species has a habit of killing its male partner immediately after sex. She then eats his body. The male seems to submit to this intoxication by the sex he has just had. She has this effect on most men.”
“That’s a powerful skill for someone in recon work.”
“That’s the other thing about her. She is just not a Recon operative. She is an assassin.” said Tyler scratching the back of his head. “With all the technology and contacts I have I know next to nothing about this woman. I have no idea where she lives or what she does. After a mission she falls off the face of the earth. What I do know is that she is a gun for hire.”
“What does that mean?”
“She will work for anyone doing any job. She is totally freelance in every way. She might work with us today and in a week she is with the Russians and a month after that is hired by organized crime. My best guess is she has six to eight employers and she lets them know when she is ready to work. I can’t even contact her. She speaks eight different languages and can apply accents to any of them. When she wants to, she just blends into the fabric of the area around her. Honestly I am not even sure she is using her real accent with me.”
“Is she available to work for us now?”
“Well, I saw some video of her picked up by CCTV in Tijuana, Mexico. A suicide bomber was shot killing him and his son. The blast put some damage on two intel guys that were watching the bomber. The shot was from long distance and hit the C4 packed on the man blowing him and the boy into little bits. The whole thing was covered up fast. Mantis took the shot from everything I can tell. No other reason for her to be there.”
Falau scratched his chin feeling the three days of stubble that had grown. “She is perfect. She has been deep in the shit just like Tim. I wish I could have her on the team but there is no way to tell when she will make contact.”
“She made contact with me three days ago.” said Tyler turning his head slowly to Falau and winking.
“I got my team!”
Chapter 7
Three weeks had passed since Falau had his last contact with Tyler to pick the team
for the mission. Tyler had sent a text saying nothing but “11:30am” to him in the middle of the night. Falau sat on the steps of the brownstone enjoying the warmth of the sun as it shone down upon him. In the tight streets of Boston catching some sunshine was a momentary thing.
“What you doing out here at this time of the morning? Didn’t you drive the cab last night?” asked Grady poking his head out from the first story window.
Falau wanted to tell him the truth that he was again having trouble sleeping and that the nightmares and flashbacks were starting to become more consistent. If that can of worms were to be opened to Grady there would be an endless stream of questions and advice. The way Grady felt it was best to put things like this in the hands of a professional. Falau disagreed and had a certain detest for his inability to control his mind. Psychiatrist and AA were things he swore he could never be part of but taking care of his issues by himself were proving to be fruitless.
“No. Not last night. I... had an upset stomach.” replied Falau just half turning around to see his friend in the window.
“You want some company out there? I could grab a bottle and we could watch the cars go by?”
“That sounds great but I am waiting for a ride.” said Falau not bothering to look at Grady. “Hey Grady, I am going to be going out of town for a few days so your caretaker duties will have to kick in ok?”
“Out of town?”
“Ya. Going to see a few friends.”
“Don’t bullshit a bullshitter Falau. I know you’re going on a job.”
“No. Just seeing friends.”
Grady bristled in the window and sat himself sideways on the sill. “Hey man, you have always been straight with me even when you can’t say what is going on. Now you can’t look me in the eye. So please do me the courtesy of not lying to me. I don’t want to have to start questioning the things you say to me.”
Falau shifted around and made eye contact with Grady. “I just don’t want you to know anything. That way you have no link to what is going on.”
A large metro bus barreled down the street grinding to a stop in front of Falau’s building. The bus was standard for Boston. The bus was painted yellow and white and made a terrible screeching sound when the breaks were hit. The door swung open crashing against the far side and a whooshing sound came in its wake. Next to the door a digital sign said the location of the next stop and it read “OZ”.
Falau looked in the bus to see the sharp dressed driver smiling at him.
“Unscheduled stop. Seems like this guy could use a ride.” said Tyler from behind the wheel of the massive machine.
Falau got up turning to Grady and raising his hand to wave good bye. “This is my ride. I am taking the bus.” He said in a unconvincing tone.
“I don’t see a thing. I don’t hear a thing. I am not even here.” exclaimed Grady pulling himself back into the window and pulling it down. Falau could see the older man waving his hand back at the window in disgust as he walked away. A slight smile crossed his face as he wondered what Grady must be thinking at this time. It was unpredictable and strange to see Tyler pull up in a metro bus for Falau, but for Grady it must have been mind blowing. He probably thought the crazy friend of Falau stole the bus as a prank.
Falau walked down the steps looking each way to see if he could find any cars that looked like they could be following the bus. Nothing jumped out as obvious but one could never be too sure. Proceeding to the first of three steps onto the bus, Falau reached his hand into his front pocket pulling the inside of it out. “Sorry Mr. Bus Driver, but I don’t have exact change.”
”This one is on the house but let’s not make a habit of it.” said Tyler waving at Falau motioning for him to go to the seating area of the bus.
Climbing the rest of the steps he turned to see that the bus held two other occupants. Despite having never met them before he knew exactly who they were and why they were there.
“Mr. McCartney.” said Falau with a head nod that was returned by the older gentleman sitting three rows back.
Tim McCartney had all the trappings of a retired military man. His face was hard and unwavering. Smiles were in short supply. He sat motionless taking in his surroundings. He had on white tennis shoes that had no laces and instead were Velcro and they didn’t come to a point at the front. They were rounded for more comfort. They looked to be just one step down from the orthopedic shoes that some of the older ladies wore in the neighborhood. McCartney had on a pair of tan khaki pants. Not the cargo kind that the kids would wear but these were for the kind of man to wear on a business casual day at work. A white buttoned down collared shirt stuck out from inside his navy blue Members Only jacket that he had been proudly wearing for longer than he could remember. He saw no point in replacing it when it was doing its job just fine. On his head sat a baseball cap with the Navy insignia and the letters “VFW” embroidered underneath it. Falau was aware that the letters stood for “Veterans of Foreign Wars”. Regardless of age, Tim McCartney gave off an aura of steely confidence. He was a man who could handle himself in any situation and that was a feeling that he projected with every person he would meet.
Two rows behind and across the aisle Falau made eye contact with the other member of his team. “Mantis” he said with a head nod in the same fashion with the one he had greeted McCartney with.
“Don’t call me Mantis. I have never eaten a lover.” said the woman in the most entrancing Spanish accent. Her head tilted slightly to the side as the words rolled out of her mouth. The pictures on Tyler’s laptop computer did her no justice. She was more stunning in person. There was no doubt in Falau’s mind that if this woman walked down any street in the world the heads of men and women would turn to look at her. She was dressed like a business woman. High heel shoes with four inch heels, stockings that ran up her legs making the looker wonder if they were attached with a garter belt. A black skirt that reached to her knees. The blouse was a burgundy red and shimmered of silk. Long sleeves buttoned at the cuff but lose on her wrists. She wore glasses that were simple black frames that made her look like a naughty librarian from one of the school boy skin magazines. Her hair was pulled up into a bun. It was not tight like a ballerina would wear but looser with two sticks pushed through it like many Asian women would do. Falau wondered if he were to pull out the sticks if her hair would fall caressing her shoulders. Her hazel eyes were the real mark of her beauty. They were sensual and lustful but still able to have a sense of coyness in them. Falau could not help but think it would be damn near impossible to figure out what she was thinking by looking at those eyes. But there was no doubt that she knew they were assets and knew how to use them.
“Sorry. What should I call you?” questioned Falau moving up to the top step.
“By my name. Gabriela.”
Tyler closed the bus door and pulled away from the curb with a jolt. “Mr. Falau, please sit down. Thank you.” asked Tyler over the bus public address system.
Falau moved to the first row and sat down and looked forward as Tyler stepped on the gas to make it into the intersection before the light turned red. He reached up and pulled the microphone close to his face.
“Hello folks. You all know why you're here. You are a team with a job to do. From this moment on you should be of one single mind and that is to get Tristan Duke and bring him back for trial. ASSHOLE!” Tyler screamed out of nowhere alerting all the members of the team. “Sorry about that, but that guy just cut me off. He almost caused an accident. Anyway, none of you have worked together so this is your greeting time. Say hello to one another and what it is you do.”
Falau turned in his seat and cast a half smile across his stubbled face. “My name is Michael Falau. I have had a few missions with Tyler. I spent some time in the military but not all that much. When I was in my teens I had some experience with this kind of thing. My hope is to be doing this for a long time and that’s why I asked to have the two of you on this team. From the information Tyler has, you both appear
to be ready for anything. I hope that’s true because this mission is complicated with a few different levels to it. I think we could all be tested.”
“Nice speech kid.” said Tim McCartney not bothering to turn in his seat so the beautiful woman behind him could see him. “You guys can just call me Tim. I was in the military for a lot of years and did some FUBAR shit.”
“Fubar?” questioned Gabriela.
“An acronym used in the military for Fucked Up Beyond All Recognition.” explained Tyler cutting the wheel to the right.
“Got it.”
“Can I continue with my information or do you two want to keep talking?” snapped Tim with all the pleasantness of a grumpy old man yelling at kids to get off his lawn. “I was a team leader for Seal Team 6 and other teams. Counter terrorism, recon, search and destroy. You name it and we did it. Then I got interested in computers and stopping terrorism with the power in the internet. Became rather good at screwing up banking and communications between terrorist groups. I caught the eye of a lot of the intelligence agencies in the USA and abroad. Then one day a good looking kid in a suite that cost more than my first car came up to me and talked about working with the judges. Tyler sold me on the system the first day. Been on the team ever since.”
“It didn’t take much convincing. Tim was ready to spread his wings.” Tyler leaned on the horn at two cars jockeying for position in the intersection. “You’re up Gabriela.”
Without adjusting one muscle in her body the woman looked straight ahead taking in the situation and the people she was with. “My name is Gabriela.” she said and it was followed with nothing but silence.