Acts Beyond Redemption

by S. Burke

  The silence that followed was absolute.

  “What part of the directive was not understood?”

  He pointed to a tall, thin, dark-haired boy with a face cratered by acne. “You! What part of that directive didn’t you understand?”

  “None of it. I mean I get it, man, but that you will be shot bullshit, you’re shittin’ me, right?”

  “Firstly, do not address me as anything but ‘Sir’ again. Secondly I was not ‘shitting’ you. Failure to obey a direct order after week twelve- three months- will cause you to be placed before a firing squad and shot. Raise your hand if you understand!”

  Hands were raised, slowly.

  Four of the group did not raise their hands.

  “You four. Step forward.”

  The members of the small group looked at each other and took one pace forward.

  “What didn’t you understand?” He pointed at one of them.

  “Oh, I understood all right, Sir. I just don’t wanna play no more.”

  “You other three, is that how you feel?”

  “Yep.”

  “Uh- yes, sir!”

  “Yes, Sir.”

  “Fine. I don’t like people wasting my time. Fall out here and you can re-board the transport. You will not receive the agreed amount of the initial payment. Discussion of anything that has occurred since contact was made will result in your immediate arrest and incarceration without trial. Understood?”

  They all replied, “Yes, sir.”

  “The rest of you will be spoken to further after you have eaten and changed clothing. I leave you with Denver. You will address him at all times as ‘Denver’ or ‘sir’. That is all. At ease.” The man strode off with another who had been standing to the rear of the group. This one wasn’t quite as tall, but somehow he looked more menacing in his black jeans and shirt.

  The man known as Denver stepped out front of the group. “You will follow me and be assigned to your quarters. Your uniforms are on the bunks. From today you will be known only by the names allocated to you. You will find your photograph at the end of your allocated bunk with your new name and identity attached. Memorize it. Anything from your past, anything, ceases to exist from this moment. Four of you will be assigned to each hut. Shower, change, and be back out here in twenty five minutes. Understood?”

  Silence.

  “Understood?” he repeated.

  “Yes, sir!” The group, minus the four who had made the decision not to stay, followed Denver across a long expanse of yard, rounded a corner and found a group of demountables waiting. Denver walked up and down the two lines of remaining men with a clipboard and photographs of each of them; he confirmed their identity to his satisfaction and grouped them in lots of four.

  Giving each group a number, he directed them to their allocated accommodation.

  The four dissenters in the group re-boarded a bus and were driven again through the tunnel. They arrived at an airstrip and disembarked waiting for instructions to re-board a plane. Two uniformed men escorted them out to the tarmac. There was no plane. The four men stood quietly waiting for further instruction. The guards opened fire and the four of them dropped, dead before they hit the ground.

  One hour later, without explicit confirmation of death, they were thrown in a communal grave and burned, along with the others that had decided not to play.

  Operation Pale Horse. Team 1. That’s what the card said.

  “Quentin Hamersley.”

  He said it aloud, but it still sounded like shit. God, what a name they had chosen for him. Quentin, for Christ’s sake. He didn’t like it, but already knew that was just too damned bad. Operation Pale Horse? What was that? Were they going to be trained as rodeo clowns? The other three in his hut were all sharing a bitch about their new identities.

  “Hey, man, what the fuck? Passports and birth certificates yet! I ain’t never even seen my own birth certificate, and now I got me a new one.” This statement came from a tall rangy guy, with long dirty black hair and a tattoo on his neck, which he hoped wasn’t going to cause a problem. Maybe he could keep it hidden. “So, you.” He pointed at Quentin. “What are you called now?”

  “Quinn, call me Quinn. What’s yours?”

  Tattooed guy answered, “Brad. I guess it’s as good as any other name.”

  “Charles,” said the shortest of the four. “Make it Chuck though.”

  “Mine’s Danny. Not so bad, eh?”

  No one shook hands. They each assessed the other and made no further comment. The one known as Quinn smiled at the alpha male shit. Time enough for the getting to know each other crap when they’d had a chance to eat and sleep.

  Each of them headed for the bathroom. The bunkhouses were well equipped with showers and a kitchen, plus a larger area with a DVD, large sofas and a bar. No television or radio, which heightened Quinn’s suspicion that they were no longer in the U S of A.

  Command Centre

  Operation Pale Horse

  “Time they were out front,” the man wearing black jeans and shirt said.

  The taller of the two checked his watch and agreed. “Yup. What do you make of this lot, Ranger?”

  “Too soon yet. You know that. I’ll answer after a week, if they last that long.”

  “We have to have at least another fifteen ready to go by April.”

  “I will not jeopardize this operation by permitting entry to men who will not make it past the first jump. They must be able to obey without question or hesitation. Only a few of the remaining newbies will make it. So I guess we will have to wait and see, Tonto.”

  “Screw you. You know I hate being called that.”

  “Yeah! But you’re beautiful when you’re angry.” Ranger left the other man standing and walked away laughing.

  He continued across to the accommodation huts and waited for the new blood to group outside. The operation was nearing completion. They only needed four teams of four out of the remaining males. Those that failed would meet the same fate as the four who, an hour ago, made the worst choice of their short lives.

  Command Centre

  1:30 a.m.

  “Ranger?” The voice came from the outside the window. “You awake?”

  “I am now,” was the response as the man known as Ranger tried to focus his eyes on the time. “Why am I being woken at one thirty, Tonto? This had better be good.” His voice was calm and reasonable, not displaying the annoyance he felt.

  “Two of the new intake did a runner after lights out.” His colleague responded, walking into the room.

  “Damn it, which two? Have they been located? They can’t have gone far, not here. Have they breached the first boundary alarm?”

  “Not yet. It’s only a matter of time before they do. Where else can they go?” The question was rhetorical; both men knew well there was nowhere.

  “What spooked ’em? And again, which two?”

  “The ones we allocated the names of … hang on, let me check.” He flicked on the light and glanced at the clipboard. “Yeah, here we are, Stan Letheridge and Cody Miles, both aged twenty. The first punk is from NYC. The other one, Detroit. Odd, we haven’t had this happen so early in the process before.”

  “Give me that,” ordered Ranger, holding out his hand and scanning the pages when the clipboard was in his possession.

  “Find out if they were seated together on the flight. Then check the cabin, see if they were wearing the uniforms. We don’t need this shit, man. We are already running behind schedule. The boss won’t be happy.” He looked at the other man. “I don’t like it when the boss gets unhappy, my friend. I don’t like it at all.” His slight accent grew more pronounced when he was angry.

  Tonto wondered again where it was from, as it was only when he was agitated it came out at all. He shrugged it off, grateful he wasn’t in command of this or any other specific section of the training process. Ranger was welcome to the hefty pay that went with the responsibility; he wouldn’t care to be giving explanations t
o the boss.

  Ranger swung his long legs out of the bunk and stood up, towering over the other man, who himself stood just on six feet tall. “Get me a wake up coffee. Who is doing the preliminary search?”

  “Nobody yet, I only just discovered them missing. The last check was midnight, so they have an hour and a half head start. No purpose to it, they can’t get far.”

  “Agreed, but they can cause a ripple amongst the group. Tell the others, if they ask, the two had second thoughts and asked to leave. They will be joining the four who opted out anyways.”

  “I hate this. I can’t see the point in killing them, they don’t know anything.”

  “They know enough to start people asking questions.”

  “But they have no idea where we are located, man, they can’t lead people here.”

  “That’s enough. You know the orders. Now, shut up, get me a coffee and join me back here in ten minutes.”

  The shorter man glanced at his superior; the look on Ranger’s face told him he’d already said too much, and he hurried from the cabin. Ranger dressed in a minute, used to having to do so. Tonto came back in, without the coffee. “They’re back. I caught them sneaking into the hut.”

  “Shit! Where did you put them? Did they wake the other two in the hut?”

  “Yeah, they did. I have ‘them in the cells.”

  “Fuck! All four in the cells?”

  “Oh, come on, man. The other two didn’t do anything but get woken up. We can tell them something they’ll believe, can’t we?”

  Ranger shook his head. “Get me a coffee. I’ll take care of the rest. And, Tonto, watch your attitude. You’re lucky it’s me and nobody else you’re talking to. You know the orders, and you know what happens if we don’t follow them. This isn’t the first time, and it won’t be the last. We’ll have to find four more, and damned fast. First up, move the other two over to the lockdown. Then, contact Holliday and put him through to me here. Got that?”

  The other man nodded.

  “Good. Get me that coffee. Now.”

  Tonto felt his gut clench tight and the acid began a slow burn. Fuck, if he couldn’t talk to Ranger about this, then he couldn’t talk to anyone. He’d thought they were friends. He wouldn’t make that mistake again. He hurried to get the coffee. Determined to never raise the subject again; but it weighed on him, heavily. God damn it, he didn’t even know what their prime objective was. Ranger did. But he would never share the information. He’d die first. Tonto was a doomed man, trapped by his own greed into a situation he had no way of escaping. Not alive.

  Ranger’s phone rang. “Yes?”

  “Why the contact?” came the disembodied voice of the man he knew as Holliday.

  “We have an inconvenience.”

  “Tell me.”

  “Two new recruits left the hut, missing for around an hour and a half. They came back of their own volition, but woke their team on re-entering the hut.”

  “Where are they now?”

  “In lockdown.”

  “Good, why are you contacting me? You know what needs to be done. Do it.”

  “All four?”

  “How soon can we get replacements?” was the response.

  “I’ll check … it may delay us for a while, this bunch took long enough to locate and convince.”

  “We don’t have a while. We are already behind schedule. This lot have to be fully trained, and you have only twenty-six weeks to accomplish that. You know the penalty if we don’t deliver by early spring. They will all be incapacitated for a minimum seven days after facial reconstruction. Bring that forward. Give them ten days, then the reconstruct. That will bring us closer to the date expected.”

  “That doesn’t give us long to ensure absolute obedience. I will have to change the technique and that is dangerous. We could lose more if I ramp up the training.”

  “That is a risk we need to take. Do it. And forget replacements. Do the job with four down.”

  “There will be others that will fail the training.”

  “You had better hope at least sixteen of the remaining twenty two pass, or it’s your ass. Now, take care of the inconvenience. Don’t contact me again till it’s done, and make it fast. I need my sleep.”

  “Understood.” Ranger ended the call as Tonto came in with coffee.

  Ranger took the steaming mug, and sipped at it. He lit up a smoke and offered the pack to the other man.

  Tonto refused it.

  “Don’t take this so personal, man. This is just the way it is, nothing more than that.”

  “Sure. Anything else?”

  Ranger stared at him long enough to make Tonto glance away. Then he spoke. “Yes, as a matter of fact. You can join me. Outside, in ten. Understand?”

  The other man paled visibly. “Fuck it, Ranger, don’t make me do this, man. Please. They’re only kids, for fuck’s sake.”

  “Outside in ten. You comply or you deal with the fall out. You know the drill.”

  Tonto turned and left the cabin. He threw up once, and again. He knew he had no choice. No choice at all; not if he wanted to live through the night.

  The four young men were huddled in a group whispering when Ranger and the other man entered.

  “Which ones snuck out?” he asked of his companion.

  Tonto didn’t have to respond, two of the group stepped forward. “It was us. We didn’t mean no harm. We just wanted to …”

  “You just wanted to?”

  “Well, like we, um, we wanted to talk, private like.”

  “Not acceptable behaviour. You were ordered not to leave the hut.” Ranger turned to his subordinate “Corporal, you have your orders.”

  Tonto looked at him with the question on his face. “Me? I … yes, sir.”

  “Now.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  The young men looked at each other. It looked like they would be going home without payment.

  “What about the money?” one of them asked.

  “You will be paid only the initial amount agreed upon. Disobeying an order has cost you dearly.” Tonto didn’t look at their faces. “Follow me, you will be returned to your point of origin.”

  A second uniformed man waited outside when they emerged from the cellblock. “Escort these men to the transport. Blindfolds again. And cuffs.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  The four young men weren’t happy. Especially the two that hadn’t disobeyed the order. Clearly they weren’t going to make any difference by complaining. They were going home, their adventure already over.

  They were blindfolded, handcuffed, and returned to a bus. The man known as Tonto boarded unseen behind them, they drove to an area outside the first perimeter. The men were shepherded out of the bus and stood waiting for further instructions.

  Tonto raised his gun and shot each of them. The last one running blindly when he recognized what was happening, but his efforts were futile. The bodies were disposed of in the usual fashion.

  Tonto threw up. He then boarded the bus and returned to the complex.

  Ranger lit a smoke and made his way back to his cabin, picked up his cell and punched in the number.

  ”Well?”

  “It’s taken care of.”

  “Fine. I don’t expect to hear from you again till the group is fully trained and ready, understand me?”

  “Yes.”

  The only response was the sound of the phone disconnecting.

  Chapter 12

  Present Day

  In a wooden building the man sat, sweat dripping down his torn and bleeding face. He was barely conscious.

  His hands and feet were bound securely with tape and they hadn’t bothered to cover his eyes. He knew he was going to die and hoped it would be soon. He could identify them, there was no way on God’s earth they would let him live. It had been around three days since they took the Polaroid shot, so he had four days left to live. The pain from the cigarette burns to his face was indescribable, but he knew worse was to
come. His throat was raw from screaming. He had no idea how isolated the place was, but no one answered the screams. They gave him water once a day, so he began refusing it; better to die by his own choice than remain alive to endure whatever they had planned.

  The woman was in charge. It shocked him how afraid the others were of her at first, then, remembering how she had lured him, he wasn’t so surprised. She was evil. How stupid he was to have fallen for her the way he had. She made it easy, offering him excitement and sexual perversions he’d only read about, and he was hooked. Fast. The sex was the most devastatingly exciting he had ever known, but his leap into perversion was going to kill him. It was all set up, from the first day when her car had been parked on the side of the road. She was beautiful and incredibly sexy, so he offered her a lift; now he would pay the high price of being a fool.

  The woman in charge now was almost her double; although the eyes were slightly different in shade, the demeanour was the same. He wondered if they could be twins. Too late to wonder now. He was weak from loss of blood. He wished he had been killed during the operation. That would have made some sort of sense.

  Nigel Cantrell re-entered the task force rooms loaded with packages. His room at the hotel wasn’t satisfactory, and the FBI had located a bachelor flat for him to live in. He hadn’t seen it yet, but didn’t anticipate spending much time in the furnished apartment, so it didn’t really matter. As long as he could fit in his run and catch a few brief hours of shut eye daily he’d be fine.

  “What’s this, Christmas already?” asked Mike as the doctor unloaded his packages on the floor near his desk.

  “Don’t I wish. I needed stuff before my clothes started causing offence. I only packed for a day or so.”

  “Your practice must be suffering, Doc.”

  “It’s under control.”

  “You have a partner?”

  “No, but I have people willing to take on my patients for the duration. I don’t have as many these days. I work too closely with the Bureau to be in one place for long enough.”