Operation Mockingbird

by Linda Baletsa

  She stopped now, but she looked straight ahead, not making eye contact with Matt. “The room in the back was full of women and children. And there was no way out — not even a window. The guy we were chasing had grabbed one of the women. She was across the room holding a baby. And this guy was pointing his gun at her threatening to shoot.” Alex caught her breath.

  She turned to look at Matt now. He could see shock and horror in her eyes even at only the memory.

  “We were screaming at him. The woman was screaming and the baby was crying.”

  Alex paused.

  “What happened, Alex?” Matt prodded.

  “Rick shot him. The man fell to the ground. Dead, I’m sure now. No return fire.” She paused before continuing. “And then Rick shot him again. And again. He kept firing. I shouted at him. I punched him, but he kept screaming and firing all over the room. I hit him again. Finally, after Rick had emptied his magazine, he stopped. And then he just stood there.”

  They were standing now, neither moving, Matt looking at Alex and Alex looking at the floor.

  “After he was done, after I could breathe again, I looked around the room and saw that he had killed the mother. The child too. He had cut them to ribbons.

  “Oh my god, Alex.”

  “It was an awful scene, Matt. Like nothing I’d ever seen before. And I’d seen some terrible stuff.” She shook her head before continuing. “The woman. The baby. I’ll never get that scene out of my head.”

  Matt reached out and touched her hand. “I’m sorry you had to go through that, Alex.”

  She nodded her head, turned away from him and began walking again.

  “And that’s when my trouble began,” she said softly from his side.

  “What trouble?” Matt grabbed her arm, stopped her and then turned her to face him. “What are you talking about? The guy cracked under pressure. Extreme pressure. That wasn’t your fault.”

  Alex paused and looked away. “By the time we had contained the situation, all the insurgents were dead, but so were two civilians. This was a nightmare situation, Matt. The President of Afghanistan was already threatening to kick U.S. forces out of the country. He was just looking for an excuse. Any excuse. And we had just given it to him.”

  “So, Rick wanted to …” she faltered and heaved a heavy sigh before continuing. “On the way back to base no one said anything. When we finally got there, Rick immediately pulled me aside. He said we needed to get our stories straight.”

  Matt didn’t ask what that meant. He didn’t have to.

  “The insurgent he killed had a gun. On this point, we agreed. Rick wanted me to say that the man had held the woman and child in front of him and started shooting. And that Rick had no choice other than to return fire. He had to injure the woman to get to the insurgent and then to keep shooting until the gunman was immobilized.”

  “What did you do, Alex?”

  “I told him I wouldn’t go along with it,” she replied. “I was reporting the events as I had witnessed them. I figured that by telling exactly what I had seen, he might get some help. I thought I would be doing the right thing.”

  “So what happened?”

  “Well, my captain wasn’t happy, to say the least. He tried to convince me to change my story, to confirm that he had no choice but to fire and then keep firing. I think he actually had convinced himself of that. He also said that by telling my version, I would be ruining his career. When that didn’t work, he threatened me. I still wouldn’t agree.”

  “So, ultimately, it came down to his word against yours,” Matt said.

  “Exactly.” Alex nodded. “But, he had the higher rank. More importantly, he had the story everyone really wanted to hear. The story that would keep the U.S. military out of trouble with the Afghan government. I should have known I would take the fall.”

  Alex shrugged her shoulders. “Shortly after my report, I was approached by the FBI for a special assignment back in the United States. At this point, staying with my unit wasn’t an option so I accepted.”

  “What kind of assignment?”

  “The FBI knew about some ex-military personnel who were working for private military companies and, in some cases, engaging in illegal activities. They must have assumed I was the kind of operative the PMC would like – particularly after the stories that were circulating about what happened in Mian. So they wanted me to infiltrate the group, to find out exactly what they were doing.”

  “That couldn’t have been easy,” Matt said.

  “It was easy getting inside. Back then, PMCs were hiring like crazy. With my military training — combined with the stories the FBI planted about me being not afraid to get my hands’ dirty — I was an ideal candidate. So after sending out a few resumes to companies that said they were looking for former military personnel for some consulting work, I was contacted by Rabin. He told me he worked for a newly formed company that was looking to do some domestic and foreign private military work. After a couple of meetings and a background check, they hired me.”

  “But this doesn’t explain what happened with Bob and why you set me up, Alex.” Matt looked over at her quickly.

  “I was assigned by Rabin to keep an eye on Bob. I used my cover to get to know him and he introduced me to Stephen. Even after I figured out what was going on, why I had been asked to watch Bob and Stephen, I had no idea they would actually kill Bob.”

  “Well, they did,” Matt said angrily. “And now his wife is raising two small children by herself.”

  Alex winced.

  “You’re right, Matt. And I have to live with that for the rest of my life. I’m not making excuses,” she continued quickly. “But once I knew how deadly serious these guys were, I tried to find Stephen before Rabin did. Clearly, I didn’t. So, yeah, their deaths are on me.”

  She didn’t say anything more for a few seconds and then she continued. “Your name came up a few times when I met with Bob and Stephen. So when you came back into the country and popped up on our radar, I got as close to you as possible. I convinced Rabin that Stephen would likely contact you and by getting close to you, we’d be able to track down Stephen. At first I did that because I wanted to protect you. But later,” she looked up at him, “it became more personal.”

  Matt didn’t say anything.

  “I was undercover, pretending to be something I wasn’t, working for that sociopath Rabin and his sidekick Harrison. When I was assigned to watch you, it was business at first — ideally, a means of exposing what they were doing and ending this assignment.” She paused and then turned to look at him. “Last night was real, Matt. That wasn’t me doing my job.”

  Matt looked over at her and knew that she meant it. He could also tell that after all she had told him, she wanted him to say something, maybe some words of forgiveness or at least kindness. The words didn’t come. The master of the English language was once again at a loss.

  “Let’s just get the hell out of here,” Matt finally said. “We’ll figure the rest out later.”

  By this time, they had reached the end of the hallway leading to the exit. They were in a large room with more supplies, another generator and some commercial pruning equipment. On the other side of the room, the concrete flooring rose up to a steel door that had a red exit sign above it. They headed toward the door. When they reached the landing, they looked at the keypad. Instead of a solid red or green, the keypad flashed on and off.

  Alex looked at Matt, her eyes wide. “It looks like the system is down,” she said.

  “Probably a by-product of Patrick’s nasty little virus,” Matt replied. “Let’s get the hell out of here.”

  The door was bolted from every conceivable angle. He started with the top, then the bottom and finally the side. He turned the door handle slowly. He tensed, fully expecting an alarm to go off. Only sunlight greeted him as he pushed open the door. The brightness momentarily blinded him, causing him to squint and reach up to shield his eyes. Fresh air, the hushed and tranquil lig
ht portending the end of the day and the soft buzz of insects greeted him. He turned to smile back reassuringly at Alex.

  He was still looking at Alex when he heard what sounded like a firecracker. He felt a sharp pain in his left thigh and looked down. He watched as blood began to darken his jeans. He looked back up at Alex. Her eyes were wide. Her mouth, unsmiling. His leg gave out and he fell to the ground.

  “Back. Back,” Matt said from the ground. Alex and Matt both scrambled back into the safety of the room they had just attempted to leave.

  “Lock the door,” Matt shouted after he kicked it closed with his good leg. Alex reached across his body and quickly slid a steel bar into place.

  Once safely in the room, Matt slumped heavily against Alex. The urgency of the last several seconds had distracted him from his throbbing head and leg, but now the pain threatened to overwhelm him. Spots appeared before his eyes. The room began to spin. He felt Alex grip him under both shoulders. He saw her dig her feet into the floor and watched as his legs were dragged along the concrete floor and toward the wall opposite the door. After he had gone a few feet, Alex fell to the ground behind him.

  Matt shook himself alert. He gingerly reached up and touched the back of his head and then moved his hand to the front of his face. Squinting in the light, he saw there was no blood. He peered down at his leg. The bullet went clean through his thigh, but the wound was bleeding profusely.

  Matt’s eyes scanned the room. He spotted a half-opened box of clothes.

  “Alex, grab me something from that box.”

  She quickly rummaged through the box and handed him a long-sleeved T-shirt. He rolled the shirt up and wrapped it hard around his thigh, tying the sleeves together into an improvised bandage. He groaned as he tightened the sleeves.

  Alex jumped up while Matt rose unsteadily. “Can you walk?” she asked.

  Matt attempted a few steps. “Slower than I’d like but, yeah. Let’s go.”

  WHAM!

  The sound was deafening. Matt grabbed Alex and pressed her against the wall. He wrapped his body around her, absorbing most of the impact from the debris flying around them.

  After a few seconds, he turned to look back at the door. Through a curtain of dust and debris he saw light flood in where the door hung open on its shattered frame.

  “What was that?” Matt asked.

  “Sounded like C-4 plastic explosives. Probably at the hinges.”

  Matt fumbled toward the boxes of supplies that he had seen earlier stacked against the wall. He upended the first one and when it fell down to the floor next to him, he ripped it open. Inside was an assortment of tools. A wrench. A screwdriver. Rummaging through the contents, Matt finally found something useful. He handed Alex a pair of safety goggles before putting a pair on himself. Covering their mouths against the dust that filled the air, they both watched the doorway, waiting for what was to come.

  Two men with bandannas tied around the bottom halves of their faces rushed in. Both men tightly gripped handguns, their arms fully extended. The men scanned the room wildly. Their eyes hadn’t adjusted yet from the bright sunlight to the dimly lit room. Matt grabbed the wrench sitting on the floor next to him and threw it to the opposite corner of the room.

  Muzzle flashes erupted like strobe lights. Bullets ricocheted off the walls. Smoke and the smell of cordite swirled around them. Simultaneously, Matt and Alex both raised their guns. They each fired off a shot at the nearest man. Both shots hit their marks, and the men went down.

  Matt and Alex scrambled over to the men and reached for their weapons. When Matt reached down for the gun on the floor that the man nearest him had dropped, the man reached up, caught Matt around the neck and flipped him onto his back. Matt looked up and into the face of Cole Harrison. The other man’s face was red with rage, his lips pressed into a sneer. He improved his hold around Matt’s neck and then began to squeeze tightly.

  Blows by Matt to Harrison’s body seemed to have no effect. Matt clawed at Harrison’s hands, but he couldn’t release the vise grip. Harrison continued to squeeze firmly around Matt’s neck while at the same time pressing his head hard against the concrete floor. Dark circles swirled before Matt’s eyes.

  Matt frantically scanned the floor with his hands for something to use against Harrison. His fingers slapped, brushed and scraped against the cement floor in search of something. Anything. Finally, his fingertips brushed against the cold steel butt of the gun Harrison had dropped. He took one last gasp of breath and stretched until he was able to grab the handle of the gun. He pulled it toward him.

  “Step back,” Matt croaked weakly as he looked past Harrison and to Alex who had come up behind him. She hesitated and then slowly stepped back. Matt pulled the trigger. Harrison’s face immediately registered rage, and then shock. And then nothing. He collapsed heavily across Matt.

  From underneath, Matt pushed the body off and scrambled away. He heaved himself into an upright sitting position on the ground. Alex came over to him while Matt continued to gasp for breath. He looked up to see Jack Rabin slowly emerge from the shadows.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

  RABIN STOPPED DIRECTLY behind Alex and pressed his gun firmly against her cheek. “Drop your weapons,” he commanded.

  “Do it,” he urged when neither one of them moved.

  Matt slowly put his gun down on the floor. He looked over and saw Alex follow his lead.

  “Kick it over to me, Matt,” Rabin commanded. “Now!”

  With both of their weapons now at his feet, Rabin shoved Alex toward Matt, who caught her before she fell to the ground. Matt stumbled on his week leg but then regained his balance. Rabin reached down and picked up both their weapons. He removed the clips from both guns and placed them in his vest pocket. He checked the weapon chambers to confirm there were no unspent cartridges and then threw the useless weapons in the corner.

  Rabin then stepped back. He looked them over while at the same time scanning the room. His gaze briefly stopped at Cole Harrison lying dead on the floor but quickly moved on.

  “Rabin, it’s over,” Matt finally said. “The virus has destroyed your network.”

  Rabin didn’t respond. He walked over to a workbench along the wall.

  “By now, the program we loaded has exposed your little project,” Matt continued.

  “You can’t take back what’s on the Internet,” Alex said. “Thousands of people know the truth. Millions will know by morning.”

  “I know that, Alex,” Rabin stated as he surveyed the contents of the workbench, occasionally picking up things and putting them in his pocket.

  “My job is over,” Rabin continued. “But I always knew it would come to an end at some point.”

  “Then why don’t you just let us go?” Alex asked.

  “Why would I do that?” Rabin asked with what sounded like a touch of amusement. “Particularly, when we have some unfinished business.”

  Rabin turned around. In his hands, he held a roll of electrical tape, a pair of needle-nose pliers and a box of industrial razor blades.

  “Alex, I’d like you to tie Matt’s hands together with this,” Rabin said as he tossed the roll of electrical tape to her. She instinctively caught it.

  “And if I don’t?”

  “I’ll shoot Matt in the head,” Rabin replied as he raised the gun and pointed it at Matt.

  After a moment, Alex stepped behind Matt. He heard a ripping noise as she unrolled and applied the tape. Rabin checked her work and then grabbed the roll of tape from her. As Rabin turned to toss the roll of tape onto the worktable, Matt felt Alex slip something cool between his wrists. Cool and smooth. Like glass. It was the camera lens he had used earlier to get them into the computer building.

  Rabin turned back and shoved her away. Stepping closer to Matt, he delivered a powerful kick to Matt’s right leg. Matt doubled over in agony. Blood started to ooze down his thigh from the re-opened wound. Matt fell to the ground, and Rabin roughly dragged him to the corner of the
room.

  The pain was excruciating. Matt was lying on the floor jackknifed at the waist. He smelled the coppery odor of blood and felt a spasm in his stomach. Opening his eyes, Matt stared into the dead eyes of Harrison lying next to him on the floor. He quickly turned his face away.

  “Despite your admirable efforts,” Rabin said from above him. “I suspect we have some time before the authorities make their way here to the compound and even longer before they find their way to this location.”

  Matt looked up to see Rabin grab for Alex, catching her around the waist and dragging her toward a table on the other side of the room. Rabin used the other arm to grab the tape sitting on the table and then sweep the table clean of the remaining debris sitting on it. Rabin threw Alex on to the table. Alex grunted when she hit the table hard.

  Rabin was ignoring Matt now, no doubt aware that he was no threat. Matt tried to rise again. This time his leg responded by screaming in protest. Matt brought his hands underneath his body. Now using fingers and abdominal muscles, Matt pushed himself upright. He was finally able to rise to a sitting position. He used his legs to push himself closer to the corner of the room. Using his good leg, he pushed his back against the wall and attempted to inch his way up. The one leg wasn’t strong enough, and he couldn’t put any pressure on the other leg. Matt fell back down to a sitting position, groaning when he felt the impact reverberate throughout his aching body.

  When Matt opened his eyes again, he saw Alex struggling from atop the table. She was kicking and screaming, her body flailing about the table, while Rabin attempted to subdue her. She was losing the fight. Rabin was much stronger and only seemed to enjoy her efforts.

  Matt decided to try another tack. He pulled his wrists against the tape. The binds were tight and his wrists were separated by only a few millimeters. He twisted his wrists and rubbed the heels of his hands up and down against each other. There was very little movement. The bindings were simply too tight. He continued pressing his hands apart, straining against the binding, until it was enough. With his fingers he pushed the lens between the palms of his hands and against the tape.