THE PATH TO FREEDOM
By Lisa Pietsch
ELECTRONIC EDITION
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PUBLISHED BY:
Lisa Pietsch
ISBN: 978-1-4524-6826-6
The Path To Freedom
Copyright © 2011 by Lisa Pietsch
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Dedication
For me, because it is time
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THE PATH TO FREEDOM
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Chapter One
It was one hundred and four degrees in the shade, and the Algerian sun was taking no prisoners. Vince was soaked in his own sweat and anxious to get out of this place and into a nice dark bar somewhere. Something about this extraction made him itch.
His gut told him something was off.
Vince couldn’t understand why he hadn’t heard from Chris yet. Chris was a communications expert. The only time he was ever quiet was when there was bad news. Vince adjusted his radio earpiece and checked his ammunition one more time. Crouching behind a gardener’s shed wasn’t the most comfortable position he’d ever been in, but he’d set up ambushes in worse places.
“Chris, I know you’re four miles away, sitting in front of a radio console, in an air conditioned room but we could use some communications out here. Do you have radio contact with Dana? She knows we’re here, right?”
“Jesus, boss. You’re not gonna believe this. She’s telling him.”
Despite the heat, Vince’s blood turned to ice. If Dana blew her cover, the whole mission would be scrapped and they’d never get her out without a firefight. “Say again?”
“Her radio works fine.” Chris let out a deep sigh that came through loud and clear on the radio. “She’s ignoring my communications. She told him. She fucking told Carlos!”
Vince heard the confusion in Chris’ voice. Years in Force Recon taught him to keep a cool head when everything went sideways. “Okay, boys, change in plans. Drug dealers aren’t known for their compassion. We gotta get her the hell out of there before they kill her…or worse.”
“They’re moving,” Jason’s voice came over the radio as a whisper.
Vince knew Jason would have a clear shot at the chopper on the helipad from his position on the beach, just out of the sightline from the glass front of Carlos’ mansion. He took a mental inventory of Jason’s gear. The M-60 machine gun would do some serious damage and the Stinger missile launcher was a last resort.
Vince watched as Dana and Carlos left the mansion, arm in arm, and walked toward the helipad. “Damnit, she’s right next to Carlos. I can’t get the shot. Can anybody take out Carlos? Jason?”
Jason’s cool, confident voice came through on Vince’s earpiece. “I can take Carlos out easy, but a 7.62 is gonna go through Dana, too. That’s the smallest round I’m packin’ today, Major.”
Vince knew Brian was positioned behind a well, ten yards to his right, between the gardener’s shed and the house. “We need to try to get her out of there alive. You got a clear shot, Brian?”
Brian’s voice came back over the radio. “Negative, Vince. I’ve got bodyguards in the way.”
Shit! What the hell was Dana thinking? Did she honestly believe a drug dealer would fall in love with a CIA agent? Did Dana really think Carlos would let her live after being told she had shared his secrets with the CIA for the past three months?
Vince checked the magazine in his machine gun and then the handgun on his left hip. “Okay, Chris. If she’s still listening, tell her to stay out of the way. Carlos needs to be taken out with or without her help. If we don’t get the shot now, they’re going to take her up in that chopper and we all know she’ll be dumped before they land.”
Vince watched Dana carefully for the slightest opening to shoot Carlos.
Vince’s team had been tracking Carlos for months before they managed to plant Dana undercover as his lover. Dana had been in deep cover with Carlos for three months now. The team finally had the information they needed about how Al Qaeda had raised their most recent infusion of cash. Vince and the rest of the team were here to pull Dana out and clean up the bad guys.
Now the stupid bitch had gone too far and fallen in love with the guy.
What does she think, they’ll fly off into the sunset together?
His gut had told him she’d never complete the mission, but she had all the training with high scores so the Agency green-lighted her.
Chris had briefed Dana on where the team would be set up so she could get away from Carlos safely.
Vince expected her to duck and cover but she stopped on her way to the chopper with Carlos and turned directly toward Vince’s position. She yelled to be heard over the noisy coastline. “Don’t do it, Vince! I’m going with him. I don’t want to go back.”
Too many years as a U.S. Marine gave a man certain instincts. The hairs on the back of Vince’s neck stood up. He knew this operation was going to end ugly.
Carlos smirked and held Dana as close to him as possible.
It ain’t love, honey. You’re a hostage now and everybody knows it but you.
Jesus! How could the agency hire such a fool?
I should have followed my gut when I met her. She was wrong for the mission.
No time for regrets now.
Carlos’ bodyguards opened fire on the gardener’s shack that Vince was crouched behind. The dry wooden walls offered no cover. Splinters flew at Vince but he felt nothing but the adrenaline powering through his body. His senses heightened. He could smell the gunpowder in the air and heard the buzz of each bullet that flew past him. His eyes focused only on the enemy. His body responded the way it had been trained to in combat. Steady hands returned fire with his Mac-10 as he instinctively rolled away from the shack and just below the ridgeline where he had more cover but could still see Dana and Carlos. The air was thick with dust and bullets as Vince’s team, set up in a semi-circle around Carlos’ complex, rained hell on Carlos’ bodyguards, who returned as much fire as they could.
Vince slapped his left hand over his combination earpiece and microphone to block out the noise from bullets overhead and ricocheting rocks. “She’s getting on the chopper! Somebody kill that son of a bitch now!”
An audible pop rang out and one of Carlos’ bodyguards dropped like a wet
rag. A second crumpled to the ground as Carlos dashed into the chopper, pulling Dana with him.
Another bodyguard dropped. Brian was taking out whoever he could.
“Take the rotor, Jason! Take it out before it climbs.” They couldn’t let Carlos escape.
The familiar dug-dug-dug of Jason’s M-60 was all the response Vince needed. He’d seen Jason hit running rabbits with that gun, but somehow the chopper lifted off the ground in spite of the hundreds of bullets assaulting its most vulnerable parts.
The decision had been made. Vince couldn’t change the course of history now. “Carlos will torture her for whatever he can get and then finish her. We can’t get her back, boys.” Vince passed his hand over his clean-shaven head. “Jason, finish it.”
The sand in the center of the compound swirled as the chopper rose into the clear azure sky.
What’s going on in there?
Vince’s gut dropped into his boots as Dana’s familiar form fell from the chopper. While she flailed in mid-air, a stinger missile hissed toward the helicopter.
Dana landed fifty feet from the beach and hit the water like a stone. Hitting the sea from that height would be the same as hitting concrete, and every bone in her body would be crushed.
Oh, Jesus Christ.
The Stinger missile sliced the chopper in two. Both pieces fell in flames on top of Dana’s broken body.
Vince closed his eyes and let out a disappointed sigh. The sweet smell of burnt fuel from the chopper, gunpowder and salt mixed to seal yet another combat memory in Vince’s mind. Yes, they found the information they needed on Al Qaeda and Carlos was out of the picture, but they’d lost an agent. Vince would need months to find a woman with enough training to replace her, and after this one’s serious lack of good judgment, Vince wasn’t too keen on going through the process again.
The next female they chose had to be tough as nails and cold as ice. They’d never find the right “swallow” for another Honey Pot mission.
Brian broke the radio’s silence. “Hey, boss?”
“Yeah?” Vince dusted his cargo pants off. He noticed with surprise several wooden splinters had flown like tiny darts into his shoulder. He plucked the bloody bits of wood out of his right shoulder as one might remove lint from a sweater. He pulled his canteen from his belt to wash the tiny wounds, thought better of it and drank the water instead.
“Wasn’t that chopper our extraction plan?”
“Yeah.” Vince shook his head and stretched his legs for the walk into town.
Chapter Two
Friday couldn’t come soon enough. Sarah reported to the Security Forces building where she would begin her out-processing for her deployment to Kuwait on Monday. Her first stop was the orderly room for the standard out-briefing.
The Sergeant working there pulled out his checklist. “Okay, take your boots off and step on the scale.”
Sarah froze. She hadn’t been expecting a weigh-in. If she had, she would have spent the past week drinking grapefruit juice and taking mass quantities of laxatives instead of drinking beer and eating pizza. The First Sergeant had planned to deploy her so she’d lose weight.
The Sergeant who weighed her didn’t seem to be in on the plan. “Did you know you’re over the weight limit?”
“Uh, yeah.”
It’s difficult to not notice an extra sixty-five pounds when you live with it 24/7, dipshit!
“I can’t deploy you if you’re overweight.”
Sarah suddenly sensed every tiny hair on the back of her neck standing up. She shook off the sudden chill as she stepped off the scale and stared at the sergeant. “What do you mean? The First Sergeant had it all worked out for me to deploy so I could lose the weight in the first place. It’s his plan.”
The Sergeant cracked a half smile and shook his head. “You don’t understand. If I send you like this and they weigh you on arrival, they’ll ship you back and I’ll have a lot of explaining to do.” He walked back to his desk and sat, laying her personnel folder open in front of him. “Deploying to the Middle East isn’t a spa vacation, Airman Stevens, it’s your job and you’re supposed to be fit for it.”
“Look, I’m sure if you talk to the First Sergeant about this he’ll explain the whole thing.”
“The First Sergeant is out of the office today. I’ll have to discuss this with the Commander. Have a seat.”
Sarah sat in the waiting area, and the reality of what just happened hit her in the face like a bag of pennies.
That son of a bitch set me up. He knew I’d have to weigh-in today and he left the office.
Forty-five minutes later, the Sergeant returned from the Commander’s office and motioned her over to his desk.
“Stevens.” He pushed his glasses up on his nose and never made eye contact with Sarah. “Are you aware this is your third unsatisfactory weigh-in?”
Sarah leaned back in the chair and nodded slowly. “Yes.” She had no respect for this little weasel.
I remember working with you. You couldn’t even put your M-16 together after cleaning it.
“You know where you are in the weight management program, Sarah. You’ll have to see the Commander.”
Five minutes later, Sarah was called into the Commander’s office. He sat at his desk while Sarah stood at attention in front of it. He frowned and shook his head. The shuffling of papers from the personal information file in front of him was the only sound in the room.
"You’re a good troop, Stevens. Twice named Airman of the Quarter and even named Squadron Airman of the Year. You have excellent test and annual rating scores. You’re one of my best Fire Team Leaders and a bang-up Desk Sergeant.” He came around to the front of his desk and sat on the corner of it. He motioned to the chair beside her. “Sit down.”
Sarah hadn’t expected the Commander to be so informal. She sat stiffly in the leather chair.
“I don’t want to discharge you, Sarah.”
Sarah looked into his eyes and understood what was coming next. She adjusted in the leather chair, straightened her shoulders and took a deep breath.
The Commander rubbed his forehead. “Do you understand? Overweight, you’re still the best troop I have.” He stood from his seat on the corner of the desk and walked back to his high-backed leather chair. He motioned toward the phone on his desk. “I just spoke to your Lieutenant and he told me that at your current weight, you can carry the heaviest weapons and packs and still outrun anyone on an armed response. Your Operations Officer also gave you a glowing recommendation. You could have an amazing military career if it weren’t for your weight.”
Sarah looked at the Commander. He didn’t look a day over thirty but she knew he’d been enlisted prior to becoming an officer. Once he became an officer, he was what the military called a fast burner. He made rank as quickly as anyone could and now he was the Commander of a police squadron. He was working on his own amazing career and she respected him for that. “Thank you, sir.” She knew that “could” meant “won’t” and her Air Force career was ending. Shame and disappointment churned inside her stomach. She never wanted to leave the Air Force this way. The many months of frustration at not being able to lose the weight had wracked her nerves. She’d soon be leaving the life she’d loved for years, but it was almost a relief to know she wouldn’t be so stressed out over not measuring up all the time.
This is it. The big send off.
“Don’t thank me. I can’t help you now. You’ve tied my hands. I have to do something that no Commander should ever have to do. Stevens, I have to discharge one of my best troops and I’m not the least bit happy about doing it.” He stared down at the papers on his desk and shook his head.
Sarah waited silently for the inevitable. She could feel her world crumbling down around her.
I still have Scott. We could always get married like we’d talked about doing.
“Nobody wants you discharged, but this is the United States Air Force. We can’t afford to be kind and gentle. Rules are rules an
d we all have to follow them or else there would be chaos. I hope you understand that, Sarah. You’ve failed too many weigh-ins for us to continue this way. I have to recommend you for immediate discharge.”
Deep down, Sarah had known this would happen.
“When this is all done, what will you do? Do you have a plan for your future?”
Not many career prospects for an overweight ex-cop. This is it. My career is over.
“No, sir.” Sarah focused on the wall above the Commander’s head and blinked back the tears.
I can’t lose my military bearing now. The world is shaking beneath my feet. I didn’t really plan for this. All I have now is Scott .
“Well, I suggest you get one together quickly because you’ll be a civilian by this time next week.”
“So quickly, sir?” Sarah had no idea it would happen so fast.
“Even Commanders have to answer to a chain of command. I can’t protect you any longer.” The Major shuffled through his desk drawers and pulled something out. Sarah stood as he came around the front of his desk toward her.
The Major offered her a white business card. “Here’s a start.”
Sarah took the card and read it:
Boot Camp
Specializing in Weight Loss
(702) 482-0623
Sarah glanced up at the Commander and blinked hard as tears welled. The Commander had prolonged this process for about six months now in hopes she would find a way to lose the weight. She had tried and failed so many times that it had finally broken her spirit. She took a deep breath and very sincerely said, “Thank you, sir.”
His features softened and he seemed earnest when he said, “Look, this service is free, provided you make satisfactory progress. Given the nature of their program, I’m sure you’ll do fine. You can begin a new future for yourself there. Please call that number when you leave my office.” He reached out, shook her hand and then stood at attention. “Dismissed.”
The Path to Freedom (Task Force 125) Page 1