RB 01 Through Flesh & Bone

by Frederick S dela Cruz

  However, Gul soon looked concerned and puzzled.

  Without looking at Gul, he noticed the expression from his periphery. He faced Gul and said, “And, yes, Smiley, I have no idea what I’m doing.” He flashed a quick smile and added, “We’re just gonna wing this one. That means, we just do our best and think fast.”

  “Well,” Smiley agreed with a joke, “it will probably be less painful than getting stabbed by my own knife. Yes?”

  He chuckled, “That it is, my friend. But anyway, I also got a look at their security, while doing my uniform shopping. It looks like they’ve got layers of security checks, and the further we go lower and into the building, the more checks we have to go through. So, if we make it into the inner circle, we’re pretty much home free. Oh, and one thing we do have going for us is that the nice General knows your face.” With clear uncertainty, he added, “…I think.” He went on to describe more of the inside of the building they were about to enter, and then said, “The first layer of security is at the entrance with the big jolly guards. They’re sure to keep us out, if we try to happily trot on in. But you’ve probably already guessed, we’re not going to do that.” Looking at the building, he thought for a second, and then said, “But if all else fails, I’ve got a secret weapon - an ace up my sleeve.”

  “Ace? That means what?” Gul asked, confused.

  “Well, for now it means I’ve got something cool I’ve always wanted to try. It’s gonna work…I think.” With a quick rise of his brow and a sly smile, he said, “And you’ll be in for a treat.”

  The guards turned and walked into their row of cars, now ten steps away.

  The goateed man had long known of the guards’ approached. After giving one last glance at the building, he asked, “Ready?”

  “Ready.”

  “I found the General. He’s in an underground floor, in that innermost circle of security.” Then, in order to surprise Gul, he added, “Oh, by the way, I think we need to go pee.”

  Gul blurted, “What?” But abruptly, they disappeared in the middle of his question.

  The goateed man’s outward humor belied his growing anxiety. There was a heaviness and tension he could read from the actions of those inside the building, and from those patrolling outside.

  The bathroom stall was indeed his first choice and part of some kind of plan that he was still formulating, but it was certainly at the bottom of Gul’s list of most desired entrances. Within a cramped stall, they stood face to face.

  Opposite the stalls were some urinals. To the side of the urinals were sinks where a man in uniform washed his hands.

  The goateed man put his finger up to his lips to ensure Gul’s silence.

  The running water automatically shut off, and the uniformed man pulled a couple of paper towels from the dispenser, on the wall. After drying his hands, the man exited the bathroom.

  He signaled Gul to exit the stall.

  Gul cautiously pushed the door open, stuck his head out, and looked about, and then walked out.

  “Ok. We’re in,” the goateed man announced, with a sigh of satisfaction. “When we walk out, we make a right, and then we’ll see a big room with a bunch of huge TVs - but you won’t see any cool shows on them because the military doesn’t have any good cable channels. We’ll be able to see into the big room through some big glass walls. Inside is the General.”

  Gul nodded.

  “Now, I don’t know for sure if they know what’s going to happen about those ICBMs you told me about, but they’re all excited and tense about something. And I think you’ll need to tell him. Are you ok with that?”

  “Yes, it will be like I give him a very important high priority report.”

  “Cool.” With a grin, he said, “Now, let’s act like we belong.” He opened the bathroom door for Gul, and the two walked out, with their shoes clicking over the solid floors.

  After turning right, they paced down the hallway, for a few more strides, merging with other people in uniform. Coming from the opposite direction, others passed them, looking straight ahead and not paying attention to them. On one side, they passed two guards standing and actively watching people, as they walked by. Another pair of guards was at the other end of the hall.

  On the left, the walls transitioned to large thick glass panes. There was a glass door further down, at the end of the room. They slowed and came to a stop just before the door.

  He and Gul panned their eyes up and down inside the big room. It was approximately twenty-five meters long and over ten meters deep; the ceiling was very high up. Closest to them were two long rows of manned computer stations, stretching almost the complete length of the room.

  Gul stared at the wall opposite from them. It was completely covered by four huge screens positioned side by side, in a slight arch, from one end of the room to the other. The two center screens were very large and twice the width of the two other screens that flanked them. From left to right, they were numbered 1 through 4, with the numbers appearing prominently at the lower right corner of each screen, as part of the image projections.

  Gul quickly glanced at the outer two screens: 1 and 4. Each displayed a very large emblem of USSTRATCOM, filling the entire viewing area.

  Then, intently admiring the two large center screens, he took more time examining them. On Screen 2, he saw on its left side, listed vertically, the global six geographic US Combatant Commands, representing continents and subcontinents: USAFRICOM, USCENTCOM, USEUCOM, USNORTHCOM, USPACOM, and USSOUTHCOM. All their statuses were shown in high alert. At the right of the screen, a translucent wireframe of a slowly rotating globe highlighted each Combatant Command in different colors.

  Turning his gaze to Screen 3, the image reflected from his eyes and showed an elongated static view of the globe. Highlighted in red were the known positions of dozens of nuclear missile-capable non-US submarines. An almost equal number of US subs appeared in blue.

  The goateed man noticed Gul’s intent gaze and said, “Dude…huge TVs, huh?”

  Still admiring them, Gul replied, “Yes. Screen 2 and 3 would look beautiful in my cave for American cowboy movie night.”

  Standing just askew of the center of the room, and behind the second row of computers, was the four-star general, General Parsin. He spoke with General Tomer. General Tomer, also a four-star general, was Commander of Joint Functional Component Command for Global Strike and Integration (JFCC-GSI), one of the four functional commands coordinated under General Parsin.

  Suddenly, both the goateed man and Gul felt strong hands seize their shoulders. Surprised, they slowly and cautiously turned around.

  The two tall large guards, they had earlier passed by, stood confidently in front of them. The first guard asked, “Major, may I take a closer look at your credentials, sir?” Without waiting for a response, the guard lifted the badge, and then eyed it. A moment later, he examined Gul’s badge.

  The goateed man noticed that the second guard already had his hand prepared on top of his holstered pistol.

  The first guard turned to him and asked, “Major, are you accompanying Mr. Gul?”

  Even though the goateed man knew there was a chance of being caught, he didn’t actually believe that they would get caught. Flustered, he replied, “Yes, uh, soldier. I’m with him. I mean he’s with me. I mean we’re together.” Continuing to fumble with his words, he added, “Well, we’re not together together, but…”

  “Understood, sir,” the guard quickly interrupted. “Please surrender your badges, and come with us.”

  “Why what’s wrong?” the goateed man asked.

  The guard replied, “Executing protocol, sir.”

  As they handed their badges, Gul leaned up to him and said, in an urgent whisper, “Time to use your ace, my friend.”

  Now taking on an air of confidence, the goateed man gave Gul a wink and a nod, as if to say, “Watch this.” Then, he turned to the first guard and looked intently in his eyes. With a slight wave of his hand, he said in a grave ton
e, “These are not the droids you’re looking for.”

  The first guard, taking his eyes off the goateed man, looked at the second guard, then slowly, he swiveled his head back. With impatience in his voice he said, “No jokes, sir. Please follow me now.”

  Turning to Gul, the goateed man whispered from the side of his mouth, “Crap! I was almost sure that would work.”

  “Almost, Obi-wan?” Gul asked sarcastically, and then he added, “Yes, we have cave sci-fi movie nights.”

  With the first guard leading, the second guard grabbed their shoulders from behind and sternly urged them to move along.

  Feeling the strong grip, the goateed man glanced back at the enormous man and said, with a sheepish grin, “Hey, big boy. Careful, I bruise easily.”

  After glancing around, Gul whispered, “Non-military badges have different colors. Look.”

  Furtively searching around, the goateed man realized what he needed to do. Just before reaching the security room, he said coaxing, “Hey, uh, I know that we’re all under high alert here and under a lot of pressure. So, it’s easy to make mistakes. But could you take second look at Mr. Gul’s badge? We made sure to go through all the proper procedures to get him clearance.”

  Reaching the door of the room, the first guard stopped, turned around, and answered, “No need, sir. I’ve already examined it.”

  “Well, could ya take a second look? We’re here on an urgent matter to discuss with General Parsin. Could you look again?”

  The guard didn’t seem to want to hear him, but after taking a moment to think about it, he finally acquiesced. Lifting Gul’s badge, he took a cursory glance. Becoming puzzled, he took a longer look. Seeming to lose his confidence, he said, as he addressed the second guard, “Hey, didn’t you see…wasn’t this different?”

  The second guard looked at the badge, and then shrugged his shoulders.

  Still questioning though, the first guard said, “Well, I’m still gonna run this, sir. If you don’t mind.”

  “Well, I kinda do,” the goateed man impatiently mumbled under his breath, as the guard walked through the security room door.

  Starting to feel anxious, Gul followed.

  While the second guard led them to a detention room, the first guard went to a computer security system.

  Nervously, Gul darted his eyes around the bland sanitized room.

  With this mind, the goateed man followed the first guard. Sensing the security system’s screen, he found already displayed on it was a valid profile of a previous person.

  The guard placed Gul’s badge close to a proximity sensor, and with the sound of a beep, it read the badge’s microchip. The screen flickered, beginning to display a red warning.

  But quickly, using the previous profile as a template, the goateed man made the pixels on the security screen immediately replace the warning, and then display Gul’s picture and valid profile.

  Taking his time, the guard read it closely. Satisfied, he returned to the detention room and handed the badges back. Saluting, he said, “Our apologies, Major. Sorry to inconvenience you, and thank you for following protocol, sir.”

  Gul noticeably sighed in relief.

  Now that the ordeal was over the goateed man felt the desire to pull rank and replied confidently, “Apologies accepted. But now, soldier, as I said we’ve got urgent business with General Parsin. And now that you’ve substantially delayed us, my stripes are tellin’ your stripes that you’re gonna take us to the General and make sure we’re able to talk to him.”

  “Yes, sir,” the guard replied, and without hesitation, he began to lead them, as ordered.

  As they walked away, Gul asked, “What were you able to do?”

  Pleased with himself, the man responded, “Weak minds are easy prey to Jedi tricks.”

  Inside the large glass-paned room, General Parsin glanced at his watch and began to make his way out. As he walked through the door, the first guard saluted and said, “Excuse me, sir, General Parsin, the Major and this gentleman, Mr. Gul, say they have urgent business with you.”

  “Major,” the General responded, as he directed his eyes at the goateed man.

  Saluting then removing his hat, the goateed man said, “Sir, I’m Major Thom from Intelligence, Surveillance and Reconnaissance - JFCC-ISR.”

  As the General listened, he turned his attention to Gul. He glanced at Gul’s face, and then down at the badge hanging from his neck. He seemed to recognize the diminutive man.

  Gul looked up at the General. Seeing Parsin’s short gray hair, Gul gauged his age to be about in his late 50s. The General stood at a few inches over six feet, a height with which Gul was comfortable since Malik Khel stood just as high.

  “And this is…” the goateed man had begun to say, in order to introduce Gul.

  General Parsin interrupted, “Yes, you’re Omar Gul. Welcome to the United States Mr. Gul.” They shook hands, and then Parsin asked, “Mr. Gul, shouldn’t you be sporting more of a mountain man look?”

  Gul’s face began to show concern, because of his clean non-mountain man appearance that his friend had given him.

  The goateed man furtively shook his head at Gul, as if to say, “Don’t pay attention to the nice General. You look fine.”

  Noticing Gul’s expression, the General reassured with a grin and spoke in a measured pace, “I’m just kidding Mr. Gul. You see, the last briefing I received of you, they were about to extricate both you and Mr. Khel. But suddenly, all communication went silent. You had quite an important function in our intelligence operations. I’m happy to see they succeeded in safely removing you.”

  Gul smiled his characteristic smile, “Thank you, General. I am so honored to meet you. Although, Malik Khel was not so fortunate.”

  “I’m sorry to hear that,” the General replied somberly. “The loss of one man for the cause of freedom pierces us all.”

  “Sir, we have important information to convey to you,” the goateed man interjected.

  Parsin turned to him and spoke again in his measured pace, “Major, I can only give you a few seconds. As you notice, we’re on high alert, the President’s in his bunker, and I’m off to a strategic briefing.”

  “Yes, sir. I…”

  At that moment, an officer opened the door of the large room and asked, “General?” He gestured his head in a manner to ask the General back into the room.

  “Excuse me Major and Mr. Gul,” Parsin said, as he turned and walked back.

  After the door closed, the goateed man turned to Gul and sighed, “Nice. That wasn’t as difficult as I thought it would be. See? We got through security, and the General recognized ya.”

  “Yes, of course. You never had a doubt,” Gul said smiling and shaking his head.

  The man asked, “Smiley, you can handle this, right? Because I think I better go back and try to do something about those missiles.”

  “Yes,” Gul assured. “I can tell he is a good man. He will listen and know what to do.”

  “And I need to ask you to do what you can to keep them from firing our own missiles. I know that’s gonna be tough for you and for them. But try hard.”

  “Yes, I will do it.” Then, Gul focused upon his friend’s eyes. Emphatically, Gul said, “My friend, please think of what you will do. Prepare. There are dark forces that will work against you. Ask God for direction.”

  “I will, Smiley. I will,” he said. Then, he added, “But first, I gotta fix this short hair.” He covered his head with his hat and mumbled, “…me no likie.” As the goateed man walked away, he turned and said, “I’ll see you later. I’ll take off from the super-duper space-and-time portal in the bathroom.”

  When General Parsin returned, General Tomer accompanied him. “Alright, Mr. Gul, walk with me,” Parsin said. “What is it you need to tell us?”

  The night air atop the mountain was cold, but it wasn’t as cold as he thought it would be. “Tonight,” the goateed man said out loud, “Tonight. Smiley said it would happen tonight.”<
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  In his pocket was his music-playing phone, and from it, one earbud was in his ear, with the music keeping him company; and the other earbud loosely hung down.

  He was nervous. As he jumped briskly, up and down a few times, he pulled in tightly the leather, motorcycle-style jacket he wore. Even though he didn’t feel very cold, now and then, random parts of his body would strangely jerk and quiver. He thought that maybe brisk movement would loosen him up.

  “Tonight. Soon. Tonight. Soon,” he said with each lunge. He was on the highest mountain peak he could find, at the eastern edge of Iran and gazed westward. Snow lightly dusted some areas, at the heights of this mountain, so he didn’t position himself at the very top, but at a clearing just below the snow line. Still jumping, he said, “Dude, if there’s a missile launch out over the country, I’m on it.”

  His senses were ready to detect any such activity. Earlier, he had tried scanning the whole land to find any missile. The ones he discovered were not containing any uranium. And the miscellaneous uranium he did find did not, as he said, “have a cozy relationship with any missile.” He figured that what he was looking for was deep enough underground, and far enough away, that it was difficult for him to find it.

  Finally, he became calm enough to stop jumping and just listened to the song. After a moment, he gazed up at the clear night sky that was speckled with millions of stars.

  Suddenly, a vision began to strobe into his mind.

  He protested, “Wait. Wait! Not now. I’m trying to be vigilant here.”

  The vision continued nonetheless, referring to the past in which he did not live, but the past he needed to know.

  It was of a young man some years after World War II who had just left his family’s vineyard in Saint-Emilion, France. Now, inside his new modest Paris apartment, he began to unpack his boxes of belongings.

  After emptying the contents of another box, he reached for the next. Opening it, he saw a familiar, worn, brown leather attache case. Sighing, he whispered, “Mother.”

  His mother had inserted the attache case into the box without his knowledge, essentially because he no longer wanted it, but she still wanted him to keep it.