by Scott Powers
“Guys…”she said.
But no one answered. The documents in the 509thfile had everything they wanted. Inventories of the debris. Reports describing it. Orders to move it. Orders outlining an official cover-up story. They didn’t stop to read. They simply flipped pages, glanced at them quickly, and let Val make images.
“Guys! I think I’ve lost Ted,”she said.
Eve and Max both looked up, worried.
“Ted?”Jen said.
Max tried next:“Ted? Come in, Ted? Val?”
Eve got off her knees and slipped her gun from her waistband.
If they had lost communication with Ted, it meant no one was monitoring the corridor outside. They would have no warning of an ambush.
She made her way to the door and pushed the handle.
She heard footsteps before she looked. She heard them stop too. Run, hide, or fight? They were sitting ducks inside.
“There’s somebody out there,”she whispered over her shoulder.
Jen put down the camera and pulled her gun.
“Stay here,”Eve said.
Max shoved the file back in the drawer and Meln closed it. They crowded into the corner, behind the door hinges. Eve took a breath. Eve heard the footsteps again. There were three or four people. She shoved the door open and moved her eye and gun around the door.
The corridor was dark so Eve saw little, but she saw them coming, shadowy, human figures. They were about thirty yards away and appeared braced for action. She decided the only possible defense was to attack.
Eve leapt from the pod and rolled into a crouched position, gun cocked and aimed. The four stopped. At least two of them started to draw their own guns, but the tall leader waved them down. The leader stepped forward, slowly, deliberately, and the three men with him stepped to his pace.
“Eve? Is that you, Eve?”
It was Ziv, the old man from Old Joe’s trailer.
He coughed long and loud. When he recovered, he said,“Eve, Eve, Eve. This is the second time you’ve threatened me with your gun? I'm beginning to take it personally.”
CHAPTER 22
THE BOMBER
Eve measured the situation and concluded she had the better position.
She squatted on the floor of the poorly lighted corridor with her legs set like springs. She could jump either to her right, which would serve no safety purpose except as surprise, or to her left, where she could probably get back inside the pod. Her gun, her aim, was on Ziv, tall, thirty paces away, with two armed bodyguards on his left and one on his right. The three gunmen pointed handguns at her. In a handgun fight, she liked her chances better than theirs. She aimed at Ziv’s midsection, figuring she could hit him from here.
Still, she was terrified. She was terrified to lose a shootout, and she was terrified to win.
She was as prepared as she could be and confident. She also knew a firefight was unlikely, since Ziv would be the first to fall.
This would be a showdown of words.
To her left, she could hear Max and Jen talking. Eve’s partners couldn’t see what she could see. For now, this would be just her and Ziv.
“It is personal,”Eve replied to Ziv’scomplaint.“Did you kill my grandmother? And Joe? I’m beginning to think you did. And I’m pissed.”
“Gentlemen, she’s pissed,”Zivsaid.“And there’s something you need to know about this young lady. Eve here is capable of killingtwo, three, of us before one of us can return fire. She’s a sharpshooter—and she has killed before, in cold blood. Haven’t you, Eve?”
He motioned for the others to stay and then stepped forward. One step. Another step, like a dance. Three. Four. He stopped
“In Afghanistan, Specialist Eve Mirada once killed a civilian in cold blood. A boy, an unarmed, fourteen-year-old boy.”
"I had to," Eve replied. "It wasn't cold blood."
She didn’t move as Ziv slowly slid his feet down the dark corridor. Another step. Another, moving to twenty-five yards, twenty-three, twenty-two. The others stood still behind him.
"She was no closer than this." Zivwaved to the distance between them, illustrating his story to the gunmen he'd brought along. "Shot him right in the ear. And that was while she was swiveling from her primary target. Why Eve? Why did you kill that boy?”
"He was about to kill his mother. I couldn't allow that," Eve replied.
"She died anyway, stoned to death later that day, long after you left."
"So I heard.”
"I'm told that was quite a shot," Ziv said. "You could have taken out the elder as well. Pop, pop. You could have gotten them both. You could have brought down the others as well. Pop, pop, pop. Couldn't you? Why didn't you?"
"It wasn't about them. It was about her. How do you know all this? Those records were sealed."
“Yes, they were," Ziv said. "Gentlemen, this was one of the worst incidents of the siege of Marja, a storied coalition operation in which all the best stories were never told. Army Specialist Eve Mirada took it upon herself to stop Sharia justice. Yet in doing so, she single-handedly set back the coalition cause by months. She did that against strict, direct orders from her superior officer. This woman decided only she could decide what was just, and, in doing so, she killed a fourteen-year-old boy."
"I'd do it again. I'd do it here, if I saw something like that here," Eve said.“They were making that poor boy murder his mother. I saved her. I saved him from that atrocity.”
"Of course, you would, and with your skill you wouldn't miss, would you?" Zivsaid. "And here, you might be considered a hero. But there, you were the villain. What was the Army to do with you? Charge you? Court-martial you? Fortunately, your act did not reach the press, not even Al-Jazeera, and that made the Army’s job easier. And that was, no doubt, the only reason you were not court-martialed and imprisoned for your rashness. No, gentlemen, the Army saw an out here, an option that would avoid bad publicity. Force Specialist Mirada out with a general discharge. Make her go away. Just like your grandfather, right?"
The mention of her grandfather enraged her more, but she said nothing. He tried another button.
"Tell us, Eve. What’s it like to kill an innocent fourteen-year-old boy? Someone who was of absolutely no threat to you or anyone else in the military."
"He wasn't innocent. He was one second from bashing his mother's brains out," she said. "He, he—"
"He was only following the law, as he knew it," Ziv said. "Poor, confused, young boy. He's told he's the eldest male in his house. Sohis mother's welfare is his responsibility. He forbids her to go to the meeting with the Americans because he senses it's not right. And she disobeys him. What's he to do? What’s he to do? How do you handle someone who defies the orders of the head of the household? Poor, confused, young boy. She must have put him through hell. Sohe seeks the advice of the elders. They tell him his duty. He must punish her. He must enforce Allah's law. It is his responsibility. That’s all he was trying to do: his responsibility.
“And then you blow his brains out. For what? He must have wondered if he had a split second of consciousness left:‘What did I do?’Do you think he thought that Eve? You were there. Did he have that split second to wonder,‘Why me? Why me?’”
"I'd do it again.”
"You destroyed all your unit was trying to do.”
"Maybe," Eve said, locking her sight on him, just as she had with the old man that day in Marja. And just as she did that day in Marja, she knew she could swivel and take out anyone with him within the blink of an eye, if she had to.
Ziv knew that too. That was the point he had made to his gunmen.
"And maybe, just maybe,”Eve said,“some of those women we spoke with that day went home realizing that Faheema died a martyr for the cause of freedom for all women. Maybe some of them went home knowing we were right all along."
“Don’t kid yourself, Eve. There was no chance of that. You know that. You killed her son, Eve," Ziv said. "Her eldest male child. There is no greater horror t
o an Afghan mother. She was killed anyway. So there was no redeeming value for her or her family. Nor for the other women. No, Eve. All ofthose other women went home duly warned. Disobey, seek the Americans' help, believe their lies, and Americans kill your sons anyway. And you too may be killed. They knew that after what you did. If they had any hope before, you killed that too. No, Eve, it was a complete, utter failure.”
He was getting to her. Eve’s breath became irregular and her aim a bit blurry.
"Your foolishness was all for nothing," Ziv pushed.
She desperately needed to reply. She needed to say something. Her mind flowed at high speed, going over the details she had repressed. The images rolled as Ziv took another step forward and stopped. Faheema'swailing form on the ground, her arms flailing. Her son’s head kicking. The rock dropping, and then the boy’s body dropping on top of his hysterical mother. The elder pulling him off her and lifting him back upright by his arms. Other men grabbing at Faheema. In a moment, she is up. She is handed back into the crowd. She vanishes. The boy’s body disappears too, into the crowd.
Alice and Janae arriving, their side arms pulled, moving in beside Eve. The men scattering like squirrels. Alice pulling Eve away. She has a strong grip, her off-arm, her left, wrapping Eve’s torso and dragging her backward. The door to Ranra's house remaining open, but no one else daring to come out.
And then someone calls from inside the house.
Someone. Someone calls from inside.
It is Ranra, calling loudly.
Eve had not played this scene in her mind in a long, long time. It did not appear in her dreams. It did not appear in her usual memory. But here they came.
Faheema's daughters, dashing back to the house, back into the house. As the door closes safely behind them, only the old man remains outside on the scene, staring Eve down, only he and Eve, along with Alice and Janae, who are somehow leading Eve away. Away.
Eve blinked. She still had Ziv’s torso in her pistol sight. In that blink of a moment, she had not lost her aim.
"Her daughters!" Eve screamed at Ziv. "What became of Faheema's daughters?"
Ziv smiled. He waved his arms wide.
"Ranra took them in. She adopted them as her own, as a gesture of penance for hosting the meeting with the Americans that cost them their mother and brother. You could call it an act of charity. An act of community. Or an act of love. In Islam, they are very similar."
"So Faheema's daughters may well get the education and better lives she dreamed of for them," Eve said.
"Yes, that seems likely," Ziv replied. "RanraAli is an educated woman herself, and very powerful in that community. Because of her husband’s position, she is virtually untouchable.”
"Then it was not for nothing! Faheema's dream might live on in her daughters."
Zivtook another step toward her and another. "There, there, Eve. I think we're having a moment here, at last. Are we?”
He took one more step as her head focused again.
Eve realized she was blinking back tears. She fought through them and steeled her focus.
“Stop! You don’t know me. If you did, you’d stop right there. Stop,”she ordered. "Tell your men to surrender their weapons. Lay them down! Now!"
Ziv said nothing and did not move. He weighed his next option.
“You’ve already asked me two questions,”he finally said.“Did I kill your grandmother? And your grandfather?”he said, mocking her.“You want to know. I know you want to know. You can’t stand it. It’s all you want. I’ll tell you. First, I want to show you something.”
“What?”
Ziv started again, lifting his feet slowly.
“I want to explain what’s going on.”
He was close enough for her to see his ragged face. He looked a lot older than she recalled. He wore a lab coat, his left fist clenching at his side.
“Who are you really?”she asked.“Tell me now.”
He bowed.
“I am Zivgeny Igorevich Borozov. I have been an American patriot since 1950,”he said, standing tall again.“I have had certain duties and abilities that have made my service to this country unique. And valuable. And I still have more to do.”
“In 1950, you’d have been assumed to be a Russian spy,”Eve said.
Ziv took another step.
“I was indeed,”he said. He paused and then finished his sentence.“A Soviet spy. Your government knew that from the start.
“We Soviets and Americans like your grandfather had a common interest. A common enemy,”Zivsaid.“Collaboration seemed appropriate. And it was.”
“Did you kill my grandmother?”Eve sneered.“Tell me!”
Now Ziv motioned to the door.
“Let’s go inside and I promise to answer your questions,”he said.“First, I want to show you some things.”
He was just a few steps away now. She slowly stood and turned her eyes on the other men, who had not moved. Ziv had left them several steps behind.
“Okay,”she said.“Just you. They stay outside.”
“I’ll do you one better. I’ll ask them to leave.”
Ziv waved his hand, and they turned without question, without surprise, and walked away down the corridor. Eve and Ziv watched until they exited through a door. It closed with a clang. Ziv stepped to Eve and gave a gentle bow. She held her stance, with her gun, but tipped it upward. Then he walked past her toward the doorway. She turned and followed him into the pod.
Jen met him with her own gun pulled. Max and Ian tried to look useful in the case of a fight. Eve pulled the door closed behind her.
“This is Ziv Borozov. He’s the one who started all this. He says he has something to show us.”
Ziv took a moment to size up everyone.
“Dr. Meln,”he said.“Good to see you again. You must be the mighty Max Baker.”
He said nothing to Jen. Perhaps he did not know her identity. It mattered little, though Jen kept her gun ready.
Ziv still clenched his left fist. He held it up and rolled four fingers, revealing a small device with a square black button, like a garage remote. His thumb still curled around it. The thumb held the button down.
“Let’s establish who is in charge, shall we? Who knows what this is?”
Max broke the silence.
“A dead-man’s switch.”
“Correct,”Zivsaid.“Did you know, one of this institute’s primary research efforts from the beginning has been in the science of munitions? This institute has developed and refined some of the most powerful explosives on Earth. Of particular interest to all of us at this moment is this institute's classified refinements of HMX. For those of you not familiar with it, regular HMX is an extremely powerful, extremely fiery explosive, which is why it is the compound of choice to detonate nuclear weapons.
“The good scientists here and their sponsors in the Pentagon were not satisfied. Always make it better, is their attitude. Our nation’s security depends upon always advancing, always improving, always moving forward. This compound HMX-D9 is the latest and most impressive yet. State of the art, so to speak. The art of leveling buildings with a cupful of munitions.”
With his right hand, Ziv opened his lab coat revealing a stuffed, white vest. Jen gasped and leaned her gun downward. Eve and Max both instinctively stepped back. Meln held his ground.
“If I let go of this button, this unit we are in vanishes in an inferno. It and all in it shall cease to exist in a blinding flash. Investigators probably would not even find any trace of us. We will vaporize.”
“You’re bluffing,”Eve said.
But she sounded as if she were bluffing. Ziv bent his left arm to show wires up his sleeve.
“Dr. Meln, you’re at least vaguely familiar with this institute’s work. Tell them.”
“Ah,”Melnsaid.“It’s true. Some of the explosives developed here are incredible. If that’s HMX, or a new version of it, it would take out about half of this warehouse.”
“It’s better t
han HMX. That hasn’t been the standard here for a long time.”
Meln nodded.
“Miss Mirada, everything in life involves risks and bluffs,”Zivsaid. He reached his right hand to her.“Now please, hand me your weapon. Unless you think I’m bluffing. You won’t be needing it anyway.”
She put the safety on, rolled it onto her finger, and let him take it from her hand. He turned next to Jen, who was clutching hers with both hands.
“And you, my dear–what is your name?”he asked.
“Jen.”
He smiled.“Jen,”he said,“please hand yours to Dr. Meln.”
Melntook Jen’s gun, checked the chamber, then turned it on her, Max, and Eve. Zivchecked the safety on Eve’s gun and dropped it into his lab coat pocket.
“That’s right,”Zivsaid.“He is, of course, one of us. You didn’t really thinkyou’d get in without our cooperation? This is one of the most secure places in the world. All those diversions Dr. Melnset in motion, they were for your benefit, not ours.”
“Why?”Eve asked.“Why put us through this?”
“Three reasons. We wanted to infiltrate your network. Which we’ve now done. We needed to find a way to discredit you, especially after that lab video, which we now can do. Suffice it to say, you should trust no one in your network anymore.
“Now, Dr. Meln,”he continued,“did you show our guests the pièce de résistance?”
Ian shook his head slowly.
“No time.”
“Really? Such a pity,”Ziv said.
CHAPTER 23
THE PUSHER
Ziv withdrew a card from the same lab pocket that contained the gun, swiped it, and opened a long, deep, morgue-style drawer. Ziv slid it out slowly. As it rolled out, the others saw a black-colored body emerge headfirst, It appeared to be shrink-wrapped in thick plastic.
Eve gasped. Jen put her hands over her mouth. Max moved closer. The head was large and hairless, the eyes closed, the mouth tiny. The alien body was about the size of a ten-year-old human boy. It featured a tiny neck, thin shoulders, arms, and torso. Max had seen many pictures and drawings of alien sightings that looked a lot like it.