Spectre Rising

by C. W. Lemoine

  “Yeah man, no sweat, but when you figure it out, you have to tell me, ok?”

  “I just hope we figure it out,” Spectre replied.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

  Castro Field, Cuba

  The room was dark and warm. There was no furniture and nothing to sit on except for a rug laid out in the corner of the room. The walls were plain, with no windows or decorations of any kind. But despite all of that, it didn’t look like a prison cell. It was just an empty room, like a large utility closet or office that had never been furnished. She didn’t think it was a prison cell, but the locked door and lack of exit options suggested otherwise.

  She sat in the corner, her curly light brown hair frizzed by the heat and humidity. It was hot, much hotter than she had expected. She was wearing a gray t-shirt and jeans that had been given to her when she arrived. They didn’t quite fit.

  For Chloe Moss, nothing about her situation quite fit. She had been in her makeshift prison cell for God knows how long. They had told her to change when she arrived, then locked her in this room with only a honey bucket in the corner for relieving herself. It was not exactly the level of treatment she expected.

  She had done everything they asked of her, landing her F-16 at Castro Field in the dead of night. The airfield wasn’t even lit, yet she managed to make a smooth landing with the help of her Night Vision Goggles. It was something she had never even tried before, but if the A-10 pilots could do it, so could she. And in her opinion, she did it well, contrary to what her upgrade flight grade sheets from the Gators had said. It was too bad they couldn’t see what she had just pulled off. She could’ve shown them that she was anything but “Slightly Below Average.”

  Northwest of Corralillo in Cuba, Castro Field was a relatively unknown airbase to most Americans. Officially, it did not exist. Constructed in the farmlands between La Teja and Corralillo, the base had been started as part of a strategic agreement with the Russians in 2008. It was part of a Russian effort to reestablish itself as a world superpower in the Western Hemisphere and place TU-95 strategic bombers as a deterrent in the region.

  The airfield’s 13,000 foot runway, and many of its hangars and support buildings, were completed in 2009, but the base never became operational. The funding and negotiations fell apart after Fidel Castro announced that he would be stepping down. The Russians pulled out of the deal and the base sat empty, used only by DGI agents and other intelligence services for field operations.

  For that purpose, it was ideal. DGI and friendly intelligence agencies could use it as a staging area. It served as a gateway to both South America and the United States. Its long runway and spacious hangars could support all types of aircraft, from large military cargo transports to light civilian aircraft. The Russians had given the Cuban intelligence community a great gift.

  Chloe landed under the cover of darkness, but when she taxied in, she was greeted by armed men in civilian clothing. They met her at the jet and told her to leave all her gear with it. Then they escorted her to the offices of the main hangar as they towed the F-16 inside.

  She had expected to see Victor when she landed. He promised to meet her at the jet, but he was nowhere to be found. Instead, she had been treated as an American spy, shuffled into a new pair of clothes, and then locked into this room. She was hoping it was all just a misunderstanding and that Victor would show up any minute to clear things up.

  She sat with her knees against her chest and wondered what Spectre was doing. She had no way of knowing how long it had been since she landed, but she figured Spectre had been notified by now. She wondered if they knew that she had flown to Cuba, or if the plan had worked and Spectre was getting notification of her death. She pictured him collapsing to the ground and sobbing.

  She still felt bad about him. She loved him, but the relationship had long since grown stale. He didn’t look at her the same way anymore, she could tell. They had just been keeping the relationship going on life support for months. Spectre wouldn’t even commit to a wedding date.

  Victor was exciting, alluring, and exotic. He was all the things Spectre had never been. He treated her like a princess and made her feel like she was the only girl in the room. He was very passionate.

  Her short time with him had been a blur. It seemed so serendipitous that he had even come into her life. She had been out with some of the wives from the squadron when they happened to run into each other at a bar. She had accidentally spilled her drink on him and apologized profusely, but his accent and kind smile had been intoxicating.

  They snuck off into the corner and talked. She hadn’t planned on doing anything with him. She was engaged and even wearing Spectre’s mother’s ring, but she loved the attention. It was exciting. She was slightly tipsy from one too many margaritas, and she couldn’t help herself. She was drunk on the moment.

  She thought it would be over when her friends started to leave. She planned on following, hoping no one had seen her, but he pulled her aside and pushed her against the wall. His eyes had been so full of passion and energy. She couldn’t even feign resistance as he kissed her.

  They exchanged numbers and decided to meet in secret. He taught her how to communicate using e-mail drafts without worrying about her fiancé finding out. The attention and fear of getting caught was so erotic. She was living out her deepest fantasies. They had managed to have sex in places she never imagined. They found bathrooms, parks, and dumpy motels. The whole thing had been a thrill ride, and her fiancé had been none the wiser, making it even more exciting.

  And then Victor propositioned her. They could run away together. His father was a wealthy businessman in Cuba with many connections. He knew people who would pay over fifty million dollars for the latest F-16 technology. She would have a brand new life.

  She thought she had been a hard sell. Becoming a traitor to the country she loved was a tough pill to swallow, but she didn’t really feel like a traitor. She was merely cashing in her chips and starting over. She had served her country for nearly ten years. Surely, the last ten years of her life had been worth that. Hell, the torture they put her through in the Air Force Academy was easily worth that. Or her Instructor Pilots in pilot training. Or the Gators with her upgrade flights. No one seemed to appreciate her talent. Misogynists. All of them.

  And Victor made it so much easier. His plan made so much sense. She could fake her death so no one would even know what happened. Her family could grieve and not wonder what happened to her. Spectre would move on. She had tried to start the separation process with him early, but he was just too hard headed to listen. He kept trying to make things work. It was sad, really.

  It wasn’t like she was selling high-level state secrets or anything. The F-16 Block 70 was really just the Americanized version of the Block 60. Plenty of foreign countries were already flying it. The US was just giving them away as part of foreign aid packages anyway. It wasn’t like troops on the ground would die because of what she did.

  Her conscience was clear, and for now, the only thing bothering her was her reception. She should have been on the private jet to her own private island with Victor by now. She had pictured sipping Mai Tais in her hammock all day and making love on the beach all night. She was growing impatient.

  Suddenly the door opened. It was one of the armed men that had brought her to this room in the first place. He still had an AK-47 slung from his neck.

  “Please come with me,” he said with a thick Spanish accent.

  “Where are we going now?” she demanded.

  “Someone wants to see you. Let’s go,” he replied, grabbing her arm.

  Despite the rough way he was grabbing her, she was excited. She was finally going to see Victor. Her moment had arrived. She planned to give him an earful about not meeting her at the jet, but then she would kiss him passionately. Her fantasy had come to life.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

  Chloe Moss was ushered by the guard out of her temporary holding area. She still felt she was b
eing treated more like a prisoner than a willing participant, as the guard’s grip on her arm was fairly tight. He walked her out through the hallway of the small office and into the hangar where her F-16 had been towed.

  The hangar door was partially open, allowing daylight to creep into the huge hangar. Everything on the jet was exactly as she had left it when she was greeted by her armed escort. Her G-suit and harness still hung from the captive-carry training AIM-9 air-to-air missile on the right wingtip. Her helmet was still sitting on the canopy rail with the canopy open. She hoped one of these low-level guys didn’t try closing the canopy without moving it first. The Joint Helmet Mounting Cueing System in her helmet would make for a very expensive crunch.

  Well, it would have been expensive if she were still a card-carrying member of the US Military. Those days were long gone now. There was no turning back. They could destroy the nearly quarter million-dollar helmet and visor for all she cared now. She would still be retiring to her private island very soon.

  As they walked closer to the F-16 in the huge hangar, she saw three men standing near the aircraft’s 370-gallon drop tank on the right wing. There were two shorter men surrounding a much taller man. The shorter men were dressed in business suits. The taller man was in a colorful button down shirt that was not buttoned. She instantly recognized him.

  “Victor!” she screamed, wrestling her arm away from her escort. She took off running in Victor’s direction as he turned to face her.

  Victor pardoned himself from his two associates and walked forward. She ran directly into his arms and jumped on him, wrapping her arms and legs around him. He looked into her eyes and kissed her quickly, then put her back down.

  “I’m glad you made it,” he said coolly.

  Chloe looked at him sideways. He didn’t seem as excited to see her as she was to see him. A hint of doubt crept into her mind, but she quickly pushed it away. She was tired and hungry. That’s probably what was wrong.

  “Why weren’t you here when I arrived last night?” she asked, putting her arm around his waist.

  “I’m sorry, my dear. I had other matters to tend to. I got here as quickly as I could,” he said, kissing her on the forehead.

  “When do we leave?” She didn’t want to wait any longer. It was time to begin their lives together. The first thing she would do was buy new clothes. These rags were too big and not very fashionable. She thought of what she would wear on the beach – something casual, but classy. She didn’t want people to know she was extremely rich, but she wanted them to see she had class.

  Victor shifted uncomfortably while keeping a straight face.

  “Soon,” he replied.

  “How soon? I thought we would be on the beach by now!” she replied impatiently.

  “It won’t be long, my dear,” he said reassuringly. “We just have some business to finish before we can be on our way.”

  Chloe looked at the two men still standing at the jet. She pulled Victor away from them so they couldn’t eavesdrop.

  “Who are these men?”

  “These are the people that we’ve made the deal with.”

  “They’re Asian? I thought you said your father had found some Venezuelans?” There was concern in her voice. Victor had told her that his father had found Venezuelan businessmen to fund their getaway. They wanted the jet to cannibalize parts for Venezuela’s aging fleet of early block F-16s. She knew Venezuela would never be a threat to the United States, which made it that much easier to justify her defection.

  “Chinese,” Alvarez replied.

  “Chinese!” she shrieked. This was even worse for her. The Chinese had an active espionage and reverse engineering program. She had seen the intel briefings. They had stolen F-35 technology through hacking US contractor databases, reverse engineered F-22 technology for their indigenous J-20 fighters, and sold their new fighters to North Korea and other countries hostile to the United States. This development was very bad.

  “Lower your voice,” he said, trying to calm her down. “These men are willing to pay a lot more than our original offer. This is a much better deal.” His accent and deep voice were very calming to Chloe. She knew it was a bad idea, but she couldn’t argue. It was hard to argue with his charm.

  “Are they spies?” she asked, keeping her voice low.

  “No, they are businessmen. They work in the aerospace industry. You know, China is a capitalist country. They’re not all bad.”

  “But—” she began.

  “Come,” he interrupted, turning her away from them and putting his hand against the small of her back. “Let’s go into the office and finish the deal.”

  Alvarez guided her away from the F-16 and through a door on the opposite end of the hangar. They walked through the hallway and into another series of offices. He turned left and pushed open one of the office doors, revealing a large office. This one was fully furnished, with a large executive chair and stained wooden desk. Across from it were two chairs.

  “Have a seat,” he said, pointing to the large executive chair. This was more like it. She was finally being treated like a real person instead of a criminal.

  “I have to go get our associates. They will be here shortly to finish the deal,” Alvarez said as he turned to leave.

  “Wait,” she said, stopping him halfway through the door. “I’m hungry.”

  “You haven’t eaten?”

  She shook her head.

  “I am so sorry, my love. I will get you something to eat and drink. It may not be much. We don’t exactly have a cook here. Is water ok for now?”

  She nodded.

  “Ok, I will be back with your food in a minute, just sit tight.” He flashed his charming smile and left. It was enough to make her melt. The excitement and adrenaline rush had come back. She couldn’t believe what she was doing. It was all so romantic and dangerous.

  She leaned back in her comfy chair and looked around the office. Like the room she was in before, the walls were plain. There were no windows, like every other room she had been in. The Cubans must have had something against windows, she imagined. She wondered what all of the money would look like in cash. Would they have a suitcase like the movies? A duffel bag? Maybe they would just wire the money to an account in the Caymans. Victor had been handling all those details. She trusted his judgment.

  Suddenly the door opened. A small Asian man walked in, carrying a leather attaché in his right hand. Chloe recognized him from the hangar. She wondered where his other friend was.

  Chloe brushed away the hair from her face and sat up straight as the man sat in one of the chairs across from her. She leaned forward to shake his hand, but he didn’t reciprocate. She awkwardly put her hand back down on the desk.

  “Captain Moss, my name is Jun Zhang,” he said. He had a very thick Chinese accent. It was almost hard for Chloe to understand him.

  “Mr. Zhang, it is a pleasure to meet you, but I would like to wait for Victor to get back before we continue our deal,” she said.

  “I’m afraid that won’t be possible, Captain.”

  Chloe gave him a puzzled look. Every ounce of intuition was telling her things were about to go horribly wrong. She had a very bad feeling deep in her gut.

  “I need information from you,” he said, pulling out a voice recorder.

  “What kind of information? I would really be more comfortable if we waited for Victor.”

  “Captain, your cooperation will be most appreciated. Let’s start with the aircraft. What are the codes for the combat modes of the radar?”

  Chloe’s face grew flush. That was never part of the deal. She hadn’t considered the possibility of having to divulge secrets. Her part was to deliver the aircraft, get the money, and run away with Victor. Giving secrets to the Chinese wasn’t part of her plan.

  “Mr. Zhang, is it?”

  He nodded.

  “I’m sorry, but that wasn’t part of the deal. For the price Victor has negotiated, I’ve given you a fully functional, flyi
ng F-16 Block 70,” she said.

  “Captain Moss, I’m afraid there is no such deal,” he replied.

  “What the fuck does that mean? Get Victor in here,” she demanded, slamming her hand on the desk.

  The man pulled up his attaché from the floor and opened it. He pulled out a manila folder, closed the attaché, and put it back on the floor next to him. He leaned forward and put the manila folder on the desk, pushing it to Chloe.

  “What the hell is this?” she asked angrily as she opened the folder. It was full of pictures of people bound and gagged, their faces badly bruised and beaten. They were barely recognizable.

  “Who are these people?”

  “That’s your family, and if you don’t answer all of our questions truthfully, they will die,” he replied casually.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

  Homestead ARB, FL

  Spectre, Decker and Baxter sat in silence on the short drive back to the OSI building. They were all too preoccupied with the latest development in the case to make small talk or throw around theories. The three walked into the OSI building where Baxter swiped his badge, and they shuffled into the conference room.

  Spectre sat at the head of the table and Decker retook her previous seat while Baxter opted to pace around the room. They had to work this problem out.

  “So what do we know so far?” Baxter said, breaking the contemplative silence.

  “Moss’s aircraft disappeared from radar just after nine o’clock, and then reappeared heading south before she flew outside of radar coverage,” Decker answered.

  “Her transponder stopped transmitting,” Spectre said, correcting her. “She was always on radar.”

  “Ok, so how does she get away without anyone noticing?” Baxter asked.

  “Night time. She was separated from her wingman on a preplanned maneuver. I think there was a low cloud deck that night, probably four to five thousand foot ceilings. She descends down, turns off her IFF—”