by Jim Roberts
Krieger pushed his hands into the pockets of his fatigues, averting the General's gaze. He was not happy about the arrangement, Joe could tell. The large Russian was used to having things his way. Joe decided to let him speak for himself. As for his own choice...
"I have two questions before I answer Colonel."
"You can ask Mr. Braddock. Whether I answer is up to me."
Joe nodded and asked, "What about my men? If I join your unit, will you help me get my men out of Kazinistan?"
"In this case, you're in luck Sergeant, because our purposes are entwined. What I want is in that same fortress. If you agree to join my unit, and help me to get what I want, I will help you get your men out."
"And after that?" asked Joe, fearing the answer.
"That's more complicated. After that...well, things only really begin. If you join my unit, I will make sure assault charge and impending court-martial disappear. And you..." he gestured to Krieger, "I will grant you asylum within the United States as a paid mercenary under my strict command."
Krieger scoffed.
Walsh took a beat before speaking further, as if slightly apprehensive about what he had to say next, "The bad news for the both of you is that your identities and pasts will be effectively erased. Your family, your friends, your comrades; everything is left behind until the mission is accomplished. Understand?"
Krieger sighed and then shrugged, "I have no family...no friends. Olympus has made me a very unhappy man. I would like to return favor."
Walsh nodded, and then turned to Joe, "What about you?"
"What qualifies as mission accomplished?" asked Joe, his mouth going dry at the prospects the Colonel was giving him.
"That will be up to me, as your commander, to say when you've had enough."
Joe scowled. It wasn't an easy decision for Joe. This is crazy...drop everything...my whole life, just to help stomp out a private military. He walked over to stand at the fence, gripping the chain links tightly with his hands. What about my parents? His guardians, Liza and Thomas Braddock, enjoying their retirement in Kansas. He'd never see them or talk to them again. Forget your family. It was an impossible request.
But something nagged at Joe.
He couldn't tell what it was, but something told him this was what he was meant to do. His past eleven years in the army; what had he accomplished? Jumping from one war to another with no end in sight. This offer could be a chance for him to truly make a difference...not only to get his boys back, but to put an end to Olympus for good. He owed those bastards payback and this was the best deal he would certainly ever get.
"You've got a deal Colonel."
Walsh nodded businesslike, "Good. Welcome aboard boys. I know you fellas have been travelling light of late, so there's no need to pack. We'll head to my...'home away from home' and see Corporal Callbeck and Doctor Yune." He turned to leave.
Joe's ears perked up at the mention of Callbeck's name, "Wait, Danny's coming?"
Walsh stopped in his tracks, "Oh yes, I forgot to mention that. I don't know if you knew yet, but the Corporal has resigned his commission from the Canadian Armed Forces. I offered him a job, considering it sounds like you both owe him your lives."
Joe pressed the issue, "And Doctor Yune?"
"Doctor Yune is a...special case. I doubt you have guessed by now, but Toshiro Yune has been working for the CIA for some time. They had him gathering intelligence for us while he was being held in Uzbekistan by Olympus. When we tried to get him out, Commander Dante intercepted the NATO force tasked to bring the Doctor to Islamabad. He continued to feed me information while he worked for them...as slowly as he could."
Joe had to take a second to swallow all this information. The Doc, that meek little guy was CIA? It explained a few things for sure, but raised even more questions. Joe made a mental note to question the good Doctor about it when he could get a free minute.
"Yune works for the CIA? Then who do you work for, Colonel?" asked Joe, more confused than ever.
Walsh sighed, "Sergeant, we can sit here all night talking about what you guys don't know, and believe me there's a lot; or we can go get your friends and save your Rangers. Sound good?" And with that he turned around and walked back towards the brig.
Joe shook his head. Krieger shrugged and followed after the trench coat wearing soldier.
Another fine mess Joe. What have you got yourself into?
Joe pushed the thoughts back and hurried to catch up with Krieger.
Chapter 16
Meet the Team
One thing to be said about Colonel Walsh: he wasn't in to wasting time. After his meet and greet with Krieger and Joe, the Colonel led them back to a small rented army jeep parked at the Detention building. Joe and Krieger piled in while the Colonel sat in the driver's side. Starting the jeep, the Colonel steered the vehicle towards the airport. The men sat quietly, awkwardly in fact. Walsh didn't speak a word the whole short trip, leaving Joe and Krieger alone with their thoughts.
Bagram Airbase at night became almost another entity altogether. Street vendors packed up and closed up shop, while the bars tried to rope in the off-duty officers and servicemen. Joe had been here a few times in the past five years, but the place looked noticeably quieter. The withdrawal obviously. Bragram had already been handed over officially to the Afghan Army's control, even though the American Army still maintained operational management of the base for the time being.
Joe leaned back gloomily in his seat. He had no real idea what he was signing up for, but the next time he came back to this sodding country would be too soon. Whatever tasks or missions that this Colonel Walsh would be asking of him, Joe hoped it would take him far from here; hopefully never to return.
The sun was quickly setting behind the red-brown hills behind them as the jeep barrelled along towards the entry to the airport. After being waved through by two tired looking MPs standing duty at the checkpoint, Walsh maneuvered the jeep towards the south end of the airport. As the sun set, the apron lights cranked on; swathing the runways with ambient radiance. Walsh headed towards the end of the parking apron. There were far fewer fighter jets than even two years ago and most of the parked planes were larger passenger or cargo types. Joe recognized two large, quad engine Lockheed C-5 Galaxy's, parked side by side, along with several F-18 Hornets. Mechanics were still working on them into the early evening. No end to safety checks even in peace time, thought Joe.
The jeep sped along the apron until it reached the end. Walsh pointed a finger from the steering wheel at their destination. Sitting at the end of the parking apron was a C-17 Globemaster III, one of the classic workhorses of the American Military war machine. But this one seemed...different somehow.
Krieger leaned forward, highly interested in the sight of the massive transport aircraft. The airplane was slightly larger than most C-17's, and Joe had been on more than a few. The exterior also seemed different somehow, as if the aircraft paneling on the exterior used a different material than the normal steel and aluminum that all C-17s were made of.
Joe looked quizzically at Colonel Walsh, who responded to their unanswered questions, "This is my baby, the Barbarian. She's a test vehicle designed by a joint team of CIA techs and the good folks at Boeing. She's been given to me personally for field testing."
The Colonel took a slightly longer route, making a wide turn around the airplane exterior so the two new recruits could get a good look at his so called 'baby'. "She's bigger than an average C-17 by about five percent. She also been retrofitted with 30mm pilot controlled autocannons, a special remote controlled Hellfire missile turret and every advanced ultra-modern piece of chutzpah the military could jam in it."
"What's with the weird coloring?"
Walsh smiled a leathery grin, "A little gift from the CIA. A radar refracting chemical coat surrounds the outer hull. This baby is completely silent on all forms of known radar."
As Walsh brought the Jeep around to the aft of the aircraft, Joe could see several people working at the
opened aft cargo ramp. They were using a gantry system to remove a sleek Black Hawk helicopter from the cargo bay. It was an absurd sight: a powerful helicopter of immense strength with its rotors trussed up for transport like a hanging chicken.
Walsh brought the rental Jeep to a stop several meters from the plane. As Joe stepped out of the jeep, he noticed a familiar face walking unsteadily down of the airplane aft ramp. The man wore a pair of dark sunglasses on his face and had a cane in one hand.
"Danny!" shouted Joe.
Danny's face perked up at the sound, stepping off the ramp carefully to go meet the late arrivals.
"Joe! Better late than never, huh? Is that Krieger with you?"
"Dah my friend," said Krieger, happy to see Danny as well, "you are looking well!"
"I feel well, thanks," said Danny, his voice still sounding like soft sandpaper, "He probably told you already, but our friend Colonel Walsh offered me a job here."
Joe smiled, clapping his friend on the shoulder, "Yeah? Doing what?"
Danny smiled, "Well...let's just say that suit and I have...gotten to like one another."
Joe laughed, "Well than, this idea may not be a total wash after all." He took a brief second to look closer at his friend. The sunglasses he wore were similar to the ones Yune had given him back at the fortress, with a small electrode that connected behind Danny's ear. Around his neck was the Inuit charm given to him by his father; taken from Agrippina during their final tussle.
Danny seemed to sense what Joe was looking at. He raised a hand to clasp the necklace. "The souls of my fathers are with me again. I'll need their guidance for what is to come."
Joe nodded, respectfully.
Krieger swatted Danny and Joe hard on the backs, "Look at this...gangs all here again, huh?"
Walsh walked straight by the group, saying as he went, "Are you guys finished you're little Bridge Club meeting? Excellent! Now get the hell inside the plane - we have work to do!"
When the old man was out of earshot, Danny whispered to Joe, "He's quite...something, the Colonel."
Joe chortled softly, "Tell me about it." The three men chuckled together and followed the Colonel up the ramp into the C-17. It did Joe good to be reunited with his friend; the Canadian's quiet strength and candor had been greatly missed this past week.
As they walked, Danny spoke quietly to Joe, "I heard about your...incident with the General. Kinda unorthodox way to go about rescuing your boys."
Joe nodded guiltily, "He was none too pleased. My career in the Rangers is done. Not many other options left for a soon to be court-martialed army veteran."
"The Colonel says we're going to get your men. Is that true?"
"It's the deal I made. He wants something and I want something. Win win."
Danny looked blindly at the direction Krieger was walking and asked, "What about you big guy?"
"I just go where action is," said the Russian, scratching his neck as if to drive off an insect, "You guys blow lots of stuff up. I guess here is good place to be for now."
"Where's Doctor Yune?" asked Joe.
"Inside."
"You heard he's CIA too?"
Danny nodded, "Yeah. Strange circumstances, huh?"
"You ever get the feeling we're in over our heads?" asked Joe, figuratively.
"All the time. You know Joe, I may be blind as Ray Charles..." said Danny as he they walked inside the plane's cargo area, "...but then I put on that suit...and things seem to work out in the end."
Joe smiled. At that moment, he too felt things were once more coming together.
The aft section of the C-17 resembled most models Joe had seen in his career in the military. There was a large cargo transfer area with folding seats attached to the walls, and a pulley system built into the floor. The system was designed to allow large cargo items (like the Black Hawk) to be easily loaded and stored for extended flights.
But two-thirds of the way into the plane, the interior drastically changed from that of Joe's memory and into something more akin to James Bond. A wall separated the cargo area with a large interior computer monitoring station. As Walsh guided them through the rather short door leading into the high tech room of the aircraft, Joe saw two young men working the computer systems; paying no attention to the approach of Walsh and his new recruits. Joe guessed these boys controlled the autocannon systems, as well as radar and operations. A large LED screen was embedded in the wall on the starboard side of the cabin which was currently showing a blown up satellite image of Afghanistan. In the far corner of the plane was a desk that contained the Whisper armor, draped over a metal mannequin.
To the right of the stations was a short flight of stairs, most likely leading up into the cockpit. There were two other people working amidst their arrival; a lovely Latino woman dressed in a black T-shirt, with grease smears on her hands, shirt and face. She was overlooking what looked to Joe like a work order. As Joe and his crew walked past her, Walsh over his shoulder to introduce her, "This is Corporal Isabella Cordova - one of our members on loan to us by the Marine Corps. Top tier pilot and mechanic; one of the best I've ever seen. She's the pilot of our Black Hawk. "
Joe nodded to her in friendly respect. A sarcastic smirk curled the beautiful woman's lips as she returned the nod. Krieger nudged Joe in the back, whispering, "Not bad, eh tovarisch?"
Joe rolled his eyes, "Eye on the prize, Krieger."
The other person was a tall black man in his early 40s, with a short moustache and goatee and piercing sea-blue eyes. He was bent over a computer screen talking quietly with one of the technicians as Walsh approached him.
"...And this is Sergeant Alistair 'Brick' Reynolds, Special Air Service."
Brick looked up from his business to manage a quick 'ello in a lucid cockney accent. Joe was surprised with this fellow. How in the hell did the Colonel get a British SAS operator to join his little band of merry men and women? SAS operators were known as insanely proud, extremely capable soldiers who rarely worked outside their own organization. Joe had met several SAS and had learned to give them a fairly wide berth. Not that they were bad guys or anything; they did have a reputation for being temperamental and fastidious in their clannish devotion to one another. Anyhow, Joe got a very different vibe from this bloke.
The sound of footfalls came from the stairway to the cockpit and in a few seconds, Dr. Yune stepped down into the cabin. Upon seeing Joe, the Doctor grimaced nervously and walked over to Walsh, a sheaf of papers in his hand.
Danny leaned to speak into Joe's ear, "You know about Dr. Yune?"
"Yep."
"Go easy on him Joe. I only found out yesterday. Remember, he did help us escape."
"There's no problem bud, what's done is done - as long as the lies end here."
Hearing their hushed conversation, Yune walked over to the companions, his face tight with trepidation, "Hello gentleman, I...I must apologize for deceiving you back at the fortress..."
Joe held up his hand, "Easy Doc, we understand. If it wasn't for you, we'd never have escaped."
Yune nodded grimly.
Walsh stepped in front of the LED monitor, arms behind his back, "Ok everyone gather round. I don't want to repeat myself here."
There were no available chairs, so they had to either stand or lean against the hull as the Colonel spoke in his forceful, articulate voice, "Well here you all are. You all know me and soon you will all know each other. We are here for one reason and one reason alone: investigate and deal with Olympus Private Military. The United States government has authorized the creation of this team and given me a sizable increase in operating budget. Why? To fund a near impossible mission that will most likely fail and get all of us killed. That being said, anyone who wants to leave has this one last chance to get the hell off my plane. Because the only chance you'll get to leave afterwards is out the door at thirty-thousand feet."
The plane cabin was silent as a tomb. Walsh nodded, "Okay, now we can get down to business. Doc?"
Dr. Yune walked over to stand by the Colonel. Walsh reached into his pocket and handed back the small credit card sized disc to the Doctor. Yune held it up to show everyone before taking over the briefing, "To let those who were not present know, this item was taken from the Olympus fortress designated Bellum, which now, thanks to Sergeant Braddock, no longer stands."
Joe let a small grin edge across his face. Krieger looked at Isabella, who had moved to lean against one of the technician tables, "It was awesome show! We slaughtered dozens of PMC fools. Bang Bang! You should have seen..."
Joe delivered a sharp elbow into the Russian's ribs. Isabella rolled her eyes at the mercenary's attempt to impress her. Krieger shrugged, "It was awesome though..."
Yune sighed impatiently, "If I may continue?" he waited for Krieger to quiet down before continuing his speech, "As I was saying, Corporal Danny Callbeck infiltrated a room within the basement of the fortress which contained a massive computer mainframe that had hitherto been working on some sort of computer Code. In the time I was held at the fortress, I was never given adequate access to the location of the mainframe area, but was able to discern a rather disconcerting fact..."
He raised the disc so all in the briefing room could see it, "...That this device is part of binary code, useless on its own but combined with the other half, it is more important to Olympus than any known weapon in their arsenal."
Brick, leaning against the port hull of the aircraft, spoke up in his rich East End accent, asking, "What da 'ell is this Code thing?"
Damn good question, thought Joe.
Yune looked at Colonel Walsh for a moment before responding, "We don't know...I mean I only know that it is the single driving element of Olympus and that all of their resources for the past year have been spent developing this Code. I have no technology capable of reading the disc as of yet. It's a completely unknown design to me."
Danny spoke next, "Agrippina mentioned something about 'lifting the fog from the eyes of the world'. What do you think she meant?"