by Chuck Black
Reed tilted his head. “As far as I’m concerned, you’re a fellow candidate for the CIA. You’re not a prisoner, Carter. Heck, you weren’t ever convicted, and the charges have been dropped, so no, I’m just asking.”
Drew nodded. “Then I’m going to have to decline, because you would never believe me if I told you.”
Reed changed lanes to make the on-ramp of the highway. “You’re a bit of a mystery, Carter, but I’m going to figure you out one day.”
“Mind if I ask you a question?” Drew asked.
“You can ask. Don’t know if I can answer till I hear the question.”
“So what’s the story with Mr. Ross? Who is he…really?”
Reed took a moment to gather his thoughts. “Well, I can pretty much guarantee that Ross isn’t his real name. All I can tell you is that his clearance and credentials are as high as I’ve ever seen. Beyond that, I can only speculate. It’s pretty unusual for someone in his position to be concerned with an FBI case when there’s no international threat.”
Drew didn’t know what to make of that. Something about Ross unnerved him. Something deep…something dark. He remembered that the light invader seemed to feel the same.
After a few minutes on the road, Drew asked Reed to check on Reverend Branson once more and was greatly relieved to hear that his friend was doing much better. The prognosis looked good.
Reed drove them to the airport, where they caught a flight to Hampton, Virginia. An agent was waiting for them, and they drove the last thirty-five miles in a black SUV. They arrived at Camp Peary in York County by five in the afternoon.
Drew couldn’t help the excitement he felt as they drove up to the heavily guarded gate. Something about the military, guns, and special ops training resonated inside his being. He couldn’t help it. He would have never picked this path to these gates, but he was here, and he loved it. Had Jake ever been here? There were parts of Jake’s life that he never told, not even to Drew, and he often wondered what secrets lay in the gaps of Jake’s life.
Reed offered identification at the gate. After confirming their arrival, the guard waved them through. Camp Peary’s nine-thousand-acre military reservation was officially referred to as an Armed Forces Experimental Training Activity, but it was fairly well rumored that this was where the majority of the nation’s clandestine training was accomplished. Now Drew knew it to be true.
Inside the compound they drove for a couple of miles before the SUV pulled up to a set of brown buildings. Through the window, Drew saw Validus staring at him. It was the first he’d seen the invader since his encounter in Chicago. The other familiar invader was with him. Drew didn’t know his name and probably never would. Based on what he’d seen, this invader must be Validus’s vice commander.
It was difficult for Drew to describe how he felt about seeing Validus. His presence indicated many things. That he was intent on helping Drew was clear, but to what end? And usually if Validus was near, so was trouble. How could there be any threat to Drew here, in the heart of a CIA training camp? Recalling the massive warrior’s last words sent chills up and down Drew’s spine. “They know who you are, and they are coming for you. They are all coming for you.” Drew didn’t even know who “they” were or why were they coming for him.
“Carter!”
Reed’s voice jolted him back to their reality. Drew turned and looked at him.
Reed shook his head. “Believe me, this is not the place to daydream. Let’s go.”
Drew and Reed were set up in living quarters next to each other. A new class for CIA training was to begin in ten days. Because of Drew’s unusual route to the Farm, those days would be used to administer an IQ test, personality and psychological tests, a polygraph test, a medical examination, a physical fitness test, and a background check for a security clearance.
Drew had never taken an IQ test, so he didn’t know what to expect. The questions relating to math, logic, spatial, and pattern recognition seemed extremely easy. Verbal and classification were a challenge, however. They never did tell him his score, but later Reed told him that something about his test had raised eyebrows. The personality test was just plain bizarre. Drew couldn’t even begin to figure out what the right answers were or how such silly questions could give the CIA any useful information at all. He was nervous about the psychological evaluation and the polygraph test. If by some chance the test administrator stumbled on to the fact that he was seeing invaders, there would be nothing he could do to hide it. To his relief, he was able to skirt the invader issue and seemed to be given a green light to move on into the program.
The physical fitness test was a cinch for Drew. He had kept himself in superb physical condition. Mr. Lee, his tae kwon do instructor, had made sure of that. The medical exam went well too. For the hearing test, Drew had a good sense as to the frequency and amplitude range for normal people and shut down his responses just a little beyond that. Still, the examiner seemed surprised and had him repeat the test.
The last part of the medical exam was the eye examination. Drew couldn’t help the knot in his stomach as he remembered the last eye exam his mother had taken him to back in Kansas.
“I see by your medical records that you had eye trauma in an accident nearly two years ago—that your vision was severely impaired. Says here that the ophthalmologist declared you legally blind.” The doctor closed the file and looked at Drew. “I can’t believe they’ve let you get this far.”
“I can see fine, Doc,” Drew said.
“I’ll make that judgment, Mr. Carter. Let’s start by looking at your retinas. That will tell me most everything I need to know.”
The doctor examined Drew’s eyes with the ophthalmoscope, seeming to take an extra long time to do so. When he was finished, he set the scope down and wrote a few notes.
“Well, I don’t see any evidence of the trauma indicated in your record,” the doctor said with a frown. He shook his head. “That kind of trauma doesn’t just disappear.”
Drew was relieved beyond measure but tried not to show it. He was just as surprised as the doctor.
“Perhaps the rest of the exam will reveal something,” he said with a little too much enthusiasm.
The doctor set Drew up for the visual acuity test. Through the process, Drew took no small delight in watching the doctor become increasingly befuddled. He tried multiple tests with multiple charts to ensure Drew hadn’t memorized them somehow. When it was over, he was left scratching his head.
Drew breezed through each of the remaining sections of the exam. The doctor finished writing in Drew’s chart, then sat back and scrutinized him once more.
“Can’t say as I have any reason to disqualify you, Mr. Carter.” The doctor actually looked disappointed. “You’re cleared for training.” He closed the file and left the room without saying another word.
When training finally began, Drew was more than ready. He was enrolled in a class of thirty candidates—nine women and twenty-one men. Their primary instructor was a man by the name of Frank Hampton. He was unassuming in stature and appearance, but Drew could see decades of experience behind his probing eyes.
“You are the best and the brightest America has to offer, but that gets you nothing here except a seat in this room. How you use your skills and intellect will determine if you have the right stuff to become an agent we can use. As a career trainee, or CT, as we will refer to you, you will learn the tradecraft of a CIA operative. We will teach you how to jump out of planes and to escape and evade. We will instruct you on the use of weapons of every kind, including improvised weaponry, self-defense, demolition, agent acquisition, disguises, surveillance, secret writing, photography, sketching, technology and the improvised use thereof, and prisoner resistance and survival techniques. Everything is a test, so get ready to be pushed beyond your limits.”
Drew looked around the room and wondered if anyone there was nearly as excited as he was. One thing he was certain about—he was the only one with a prison sentence
riding on his success or failure.
—
Within the first couple of weeks, Drew began to stand out. His greatest struggle was determining just how much of his skill he should divulge. However, there were aspects of his training in which he didn’t have to pretend a lack of skill, such as demolition, photography, and sketching—things Jake hadn’t taught him—so he focused intently on that part of the tradecraft in particular.
Since Drew had arrived at the Farm, he had noticed that at least one light invader was with him at all times. Validus’s vice commander seemed to be his usual guard, but several new faces had joined the rotation. He still wasn’t sure what that meant.
Four weeks into the program, Drew, Reed, and three other CTs were playing cards one evening. Aaban Hadad looked like he was of Middle-Eastern descent. Nora Riggs was a dark-haired twenty-five-year-old from Boston, and Steven Connor was the son of a farmer in the Midwest.
“So, Carter,” Connor said as he picked up his cards. “What’s your secret? How are you already acing this program?”
“Yeah,” Riggs piped in. “We’ve got months of training left, and you seem to already know this stuff. Where’d you come from?”
Reed looked over the top of his cards to see how Drew was going to answer.
“Are you kidding?” Drew said. “Did you see my sketch of the arms dealer? When I was done, he looked like a bad Charlie Brown.”
Riggs smirked and glared at him. “You know that’s not what we’re talking about, Carter.”
Drew finished arranging his cards. He shook his head. “My stepdad was a Ranger. He took me camping and started training me when I was twelve. I got nothin’ over you guys except a little head start. In another month, you’ll be running circles around me.”
Reed snorted. “That’s a bunch of baloney if I’ve ever heard it.” He pointed at Drew. “I saw this guy—”
“Don’t go there, Reed,” Drew interrupted. “It’s way too embarrassing for you.” He glared at Reed, warning him.
“Wait…You guys knew each other before the Farm?” Hadad asked.
Drew raised an “I told you so” eyebrow at Reed.
“Only for a few days,” Reed said. Drew relaxed, but then Reed smiled. “I used to be FBI, and I had to arrest Carter for his criminal activity.”
“What!” Hadad, Riggs, and Connor were all on it.
“Get out! Is that true, Carter?” Connor asked with a big country grin.
Drew slowly set down his cards. “Thanks a lot, Reed. I can’t wait for hand-to-hand tomorrow. I’m going to ask for you!”
“What happened?” Riggs asked, setting her cards on the table and leaning forward.
“Nothing!” Drew snapped. He was going to kill Reed. “Can we get on with this game?”
“Come on, Carter,” Hadad pleaded. “Tell us. We’ll all fess up to something afterward to make it fair.”
Drew shot Reed a steely-eyed look and shook his head. He put his cards on the table. “You know, I’m getting tired, and tomorrow is supposed to be a rough day. I’m done.”
Drew stood up and moved toward the door.
“Lighten up, Carter,” Reed said.
“Shut up, Reed. I mean it.”
Twenty minutes after Drew got back to his room, there was a knock on the door. It was Reed.
“Hey, I…I was out of line.” Reed had a hard time looking Drew in the eye. “I didn’t realize it was such a touchy subject. Won’t happen again.”
Drew couldn’t even begin to explain his life to Reed and what the implications were of letting others know more than they needed to.
“It’s all right,” he said. “We’re good.”
Reed leaned up against the doorpost and crossed his arms. “They’re right, though. I don’t know you well, Carter, but I know you better than anyone else here. When you’re ready, I’ll be a friend, if I haven’t screwed that up already.”
Drew looked at Reed. It was a genuine offer, but he couldn’t get past the notion that Ross was using Reed to keep an eye on him. How could there ever be any authentic friendship under those conditions?
“Thanks,” Drew said. “Let’s start by not highlighting me any more than necessary, okay?”
Reed smiled. He nodded, then turned to go to his own room.
The next day, Drew expected to be harassed relentlessly by Riggs, Connor, and Hadad and perhaps be tagged with some irritating nickname, but it didn’t happen. Whatever Reed had told them, they offered Drew the space he was looking for.
Over the next few weeks, their little band of five grew tighter, and it was Drew who seemed to be the glue that brought them together. Hadad in particular seemed drawn to Drew. He took it upon himself to help them further their training at every opportunity, and because of it, they each maximized their potential in the program and became close friends. At the beginning of the program they were told that they would form relationships at the Farm that would last their entire careers, and Drew could certainly see how that was happening.
Although Drew loved the intensity of the training, there was an element of danger that none of the other CTs could see, one which Drew was aware of hourly. The security of the Farm did little to protect him and the other CTs from the attacks of the dark invaders.
From Drew’s perspective, Validus and his men were in a continual state of war. Without the availability of the darkened minds and cultural situations outside the Farm, it appeared that the dark invaders were trying to capitalize on the potentially dangerous nature of the training conducted at the Farm. Whether they were being trained on tactical driving techniques, how to shoot rockets, or how to set and detonate explosives, there was opportunity every day for the dark invaders to take Drew out. With each week that passed, Drew found it more difficult to concentrate. He wondered if Validus and his men would ever grow weary in their protection of him.
At one point it looked as if the dark invaders were coming at him with a hundred warriors. That was when Drew saw him. He was the largest, fiercest warrior Drew had ever laid eyes on, and he didn’t belong to the dark invaders—he was part of Validus’s team. The “Hulk” took out two or three dark invaders at a time. The battle was as fierce as Drew had ever seen, and many of Validus’s team were wounded.
What was this all about? It unnerved Drew enough to affect his training, and Reed and the rest of his friends began to notice. The warning that Validus had given him in the Chicago gang’s warehouse certainly appeared warranted, but he didn’t know what to do about it, let alone why he was the focus of such warfare between invaders.
Drew paced the floor in his room that night. How long could the light invaders maintain their protection? How long would they? And how would he die—a stray bullet, an unexplained pre-detonated bomb, electrocution? There were a hundred ways to die at the Farm if an unseen dark invader had access to him and enough time to pull it off. Drew was trapped. The Farm, prison, the city, the wilderness—it didn’t matter where he went, they would be there.
A warrior with black hair and Asian eyes stepped through Drew’s door to check on him. Drew looked at him, and the warrior stared back. He seemed annoyed, almost angry with Drew. A wound on his shoulder was still bleeding, but Drew had noticed that their wounds didn’t last long. Either they healed or they died.
“I want to speak with Validus,” Drew said quietly.
The warrior didn’t seem to take kindly to his request and just continued to stare at him.
Drew squared off with him. “Why are you protecting me?”
The warrior lifted his chin slightly as he eyed Drew; then he turned and left. A few minutes later, Validus appeared. He too had multiple wounds from the battle. They looked painful. Drew didn’t know how the warrior would respond, but he didn’t waste time.
“You said they were after me. Why? Why me, and why are you protecting me?” Drew glanced at the warrior’s arm, where a long gash was still dripping blood.
Validus hesitated. He clearly did not want to have this conversation.
Drew turned away in frustration. He walked a few steps, running his hand through his hair. “I don’t know what’s going on. I don’t know what to do!”
The room began to glow blue, and Drew spun back around in time to see flames licking at the warrior’s form as he finished materializing into the world of men. Drew looked at the warrior in awe. His arm was still bleeding, the blood dripping on the carpet at his feet.
Validus seemed to struggle with his words, restrained by something deep within him. “You are significant to the future of these people.” He shook his head and grimaced either from the pain of his wounds or from the frustration of being limited in what he was allowed to say. He took a step toward Drew and pierced him with his penetrating eyes. “You must focus and learn and stay alive. Right now there is nothing you can do about our war.” He turned his head slightly, as if he could hear something Drew could not. Then he looked at Drew one more time. “Stay alive!”
Validus grimaced, and the blue flames seeped from his body to enshroud him on his journey back to their realm. He then stepped through the wall and disappeared.
Drew knelt down to touch the blood-stained carpet. He lifted his hand and looked at the blood on his fingers.
“Hey, Carter,” Reed said as he opened the door.
Drew looked up, then back to his fingers. The blood was gone and so was the stain on the carpet.
“What’s up? You lose something?” Reed asked.
“Ah…no. Just getting ready to do a few push-ups.”
Reed shook his head. “Yeah. This program is a little soft. We could all do with an extra workout.” He smirked. “Card game in five minutes.” He nodded, then closed the door.
Drew sat down on the floor and leaned up against the wall. It was a hard pill to swallow, that warriors were fighting, bleeding, and even dying for him, and he still didn’t know why.
“I need permission to tell Carter, General!”
“I don’t have the authority to give that to you, Validus.” Brandt crossed his arms and leaned back in his chair.