by Alexa Davis
"Badger and Rock just said they saw movement down below," he said. I could hear the faint buzz of the radio signal coming from his direction. "Said we might need to be prepared to attract before light."
"Tell them to fuck off," I said knowing that starting a fight before the helicopters could see us was asking for trouble. "We stay put until the Lieutenant orders us to move."
Opie whispered my order into his headset and waited. Jonathan Michael Morgan had earned the nickname "Opie" because he looked like a young Ron Howard - red hair, freckles and a gap between his teeth that was so wide that we joked about flying a Tomahawk missile through it. He was like my younger brother, but then all the SEALs were my brothers. I just had a soft spot for Opie, and like any younger brother, he did his best to exploit my weakness in order to get what he wanted, which was usually some part of my food. He, and the rest of the team, called me Pow, short for Powell, my last name, as well as for the reputation I'd earned by punching my way out of situations when I'd had one too many to drink. We all had nicknames; it was part of building the brotherhood that kept us alive.
"What'd they say?" I whispered.
"Told you to fuck off, too," he said. I could hear the grin in his voice. It was too dark to see my hand in front of my face, and I was starting to get antsy for the sun to rise. I ran though the mission in my mind's eye again, and tried to pinpoint any potential weak spots. The worst that could happen would be that we all got killed and the warlord executed the prisoners, but since we SEALs had no intention of dying, I knew that could be checked off the list.
I could see the sun beginning to creep up into the eastern horizon and knew that we didn't have long to wait. I watched as people began to emerge from the front of the compound and change guard duties. The two guys in track jackets and Nike's handed their weapons to the two coming on duty. They looked even younger than the other two and that worried me. Young guys tended to panic and make rookie mistakes; they were the most dangerous members of any team no matter how well they'd been trained. I turned and caught a glimpse of Opie as he watched the changing of the guard. He was young, too. A well-trained SEAL, for sure, but still young.
"Pow, command says we should get into position and prepare to engage," Opie whispered. "The copters are within range and the sun will be up in ten."
"Pass it on," I replied and listened as Opie repeated command's orders to Badger and Rock. I watched as the sun edged its way up toward the line that divided night from day giving us just enough light to check our weapons and ammunition. With any luck we wouldn't need to go in shooting since the copters were scheduled to drop bombs on the outer rim of the compound and create a diversion as well as taking out a few of the captors. If their coordinates were right the bombing would be precise and leave few survivors that we'd have to fight. If they were wrong, we'd have one hell of a firefight on our hands.
"Five minutes," Opie whispered. I nodded and ran though the plan one last time. Coppers bomb, we rush the compound, secure the building where our soldiers were being held, prepare for extraction and then get them to the copters that would be waiting just outside of the compound before the SEAL team would slip back into the mountainous terrain. There wouldn't be enough room in the copters for us, so we'd have to hike fifteen miles to the pick up spot. If all went according to plan, we'd be back at the base drinking bear and exerting our bragging rights by dinner.
"Two minutes," Opie whispered. I grabbed my rifle and focused on the activity down at the base of the hill. It looked like the kids guarding the perimeter were carrying semi-automatics. They scanned the hills above the compound and then finding nothing, they kept moving.
"Thirty-seconds," Opie said as we heard the first sound of approaching helicopters. I knew we were on target so I waited for the copters to drop their bombs and prepped myself to head straight down the hill toward the compound entry.
A whooshing sound filled the air and I watched as a missile flew through the air moving in the wrong direction. It cut through the air so quickly that in the second it took Opie and I to turn and follow it's trajectory it hit its mark. The copter exploded in mid-air raining metal down onto the mountainside.
"Anti-aircraft! Anti-aircraft!" Opie shouted into his headset.
"Son of a bitch!" I yelled as I turned and began firing at the men gathered at the front of the compound. Our fire hit its mark and took out several of our opponents, then was quickly returned as the rest retreated back behind the walls. I watched as the second copter veered off course and narrowly missed a missile that had been fired in its direction. No bombs had been dropped on the compound.
"What now, Pow?" Opie hollered over the sound of weapons firing.
"We save our guys!" I shouted. "That's what the hell we do!"
"Command says back off and wait!" he shouted back. "They are sending another copter, it'll be here in ten!"
"Bullshit!" I yelled. "Where are Badger and Rock?"
"Other side of the ridge!"
"Tell them to haul their lazy asses down to the back and blow a hole in the wall while we cover!" I yelled.
Opie radioed the other two SEALs and told them my plan. I knew it was a big risk, but I also knew that if we didn't take control of the situation these guys would kill us and then execute the prisoners. There was no way we were going to let that happen.
I trained my rifle on the front gate and fired at anything that moved. Next to me, Opie was doing the same. The adrenaline was pumping through my veins as I worked to draw enemy fire and give the guys a chance to blow the backside. I could feel the rhythmic stream of bullets leaving my weapon and found their mark.
I was so focused on the task at hand that when the explosives were detonated the noise pulled my attention away briefly. I heard the bullet whizz by my left ear as I ducked and reloaded. The familiar roar of a Blackhawk filled the air seconds before I heard the swoosh of a missile fly straight into the center of the compound, sending dirt and concrete flying into the air. I ducked to avoid he debris and then quickly poked my head up over the rock we were covered by to make sure the missile had hit its mark.
"We're clear! We're clear!" Opie shouted as the Blackhawk banked and headed toward its landing spot to await the freed soldiers.
"Let's get 'em!" I yelled over my shoulder as I headed down the hill. Opie followed me, shooting at anything that moved. I was fairly certain that the missile had caught most of the compound’s inhabitants unaware, but I didn't bank on it. I kept an eye out for movement as I plotted our path straight to the building where the prisoners were being held. As we rounded a corner, the two young guys who'd taken over guard duty were frantically trying to dig a third man out from under the rubble. When they saw us, they dropped their weapons and raised their hands over their heads in surrender, as they repeated over and over, “No shoot No shoot!"
Opie and I aimed our rifles at them as we moved forward and kicked their weapons out of reach, and then we motioned for them to lay face down on the ground so we could secure their arms behind their backs. If we had enough room in the copter, we'd bring these two along for the commander to interrogate. For that happen it would mean not all of our soldiers would be coming home alive.
We rounded the corner of the building where our guys were being held with weapons aimed and ready to fire at the slightest threat. I signaled to Opie to cover me as I quickly navigated my way around chunks of concrete and dirt looking for a way into the building. I found a door on the backside and quickly shot the padlock off of the frame before kicking it in. Inside on the cement floor laid ten of the fourteen missing men. They were hungry and dehydrated, but they were alive. I signaled to Opie to get the commander on the radio and order a copter for evacuation.
"Where are the rest of the guys?" I asked as I squatted next to a soldier propped up against the wall. He grimaced and shook his head. I said, "Bring 'em home?"
He shook his head and closed his eyes, as I fought to keep my anger at bay. There was no worse feeling than having to leave a man behind.
> "Opie! Where's the copter?" I called as I stood up and surveyed the room. For as bad of shape as they were in, most of the guys would be able to get to the copter on their own. "Badger! Rock! Where the hell are you guys?"
"Five minutes out, Pow!" he replied as I pulled the first soldier to his feet and then turned to help the next one up. As I did, the sound of automatic gunfire filled the air and I heard Opie shout," Enemy incoming! Enemy in—!"
The explosion was deafening and it knocked me back against the wall where I struggled to draw air into my lungs before pushing myself up and running to the door. Outside I could see Opie lying on the ground looking straight up at the sky as he struggled to breathe. I swore under my breath as I yanked my gun around and shot at two enemies positioned on the roof across the way. Once I did, the gunfire stopped. I waited knowing that there was a good chance that the enemy was using the silence as a way to lure us out from our hiding spot.
"I'm coming, Opie," I called from the doorway as quietly as I could. Then scanning the surrounding buildings I dashed toward him, grabbed him under his arms and hauled him back to the safety of our concrete enclosure. His breath came in ragged gasps as I ripped open his flack jacket to see where he'd been shot. The bullets had torn a path across his abdomen and blood was pouring from the wounds. I yanked open my emergency pack and did what I could to staunch the flow. "Hang in there, Opie. Help's on its way and we'll get you out of here in no time. Hang on, man. You hear me?"
"Yeah Pow, I hear you," he smiled weakly. "It's not good, is it?"
"Well, it could be much better, to tell you the truth," I said. "But it could also be a hell of a lot worse."
"I'm not gonna make it, Pow," he said. "I know that. Just tell my parents that I did what I said I would do, will you?"
"Bullshit, Opie," I protested as I pressed on the dressings and felt the blood oozing through my fingers. "You're gonna make it out of here and be able to tell them yourself. Hang on, kid."
Bravely he nodded, and wheezed, "It was a hell of a run, wasn't it, Pow?"
"Best goddamn run of our lives," I said as I heard the sound of incoming Blackhawks fill the air. I realized that we must have taken out most of the guys who'd been guarding the prisoners on our first assault. "Don't you die on me, Opie. Dammit!"
"I'll try, Pow," he said. "Hoo-yah..."
Badger and Rock pushed their way into the room and said, "Copters are landing, Pow!"
"Get Opie on a stretcher and on the first one out!" I yelled over the noise then turned to the remaining soldiers and motioned for them to get up. Most did, and the ones who were unable, we stretchered out. Badger and Rock ran to the front of the compound and collected the prisoners we'd taken and loaded them on a third copter.
As we lifted off, I saw the compound from the air. Concrete, dirt, and bodies littered the landscape, and I wondered how anyone but those of us who lived on this wild ride could possibly understand what we did for a living.
CHAPTER TWO
Echo
"Alan Powell's office, how may I direct your call?" I said as I hit the send button on an email response to a question about my boss's schedule and whether he'd be available to give a talk about the role of biotech firms in the military industrial complex. Dr. Powell hated giving talks, but he knew that it drummed up support for his pet projects that were far less profitable, so he gave them grudgingly.
"Echo, can you come down to Mr. Baines' office right away?" Ruth said in a tone usually reserved for those who were being terminated.
"Um, sure. What's wrong?" I asked as I felt my blood pressure skyrocket. I knew that Dr. Powell had been working on some secret project because he'd asked me to type up documents that he had me shred after sending. He assured me that there was nothing illegal going on, and in the six years I'd been working for him he'd never lied to me before, so I chose to believe him. Now I wondered if that had been wise.
"Just get down here as quickly as possible," she repeated. "You don't need to bring your things."
I hung up the phone and, out of habit, grabbed a steno pad and my phone before walking down the long hallway to Mr. Baines' office.
Something wasn't right; I could feel it as I walked down the corridor. The legal staff was gathered in the glass-walled conference room and although I couldn't hear the conversation, I could tell something wasn't right. When I got to Ruth's desk, she waved me on through the open door, and then quietly shut it behind me.
"Miss Frost, I've got some bad news," Mr. Baines began. He slowly gave me the once-over stopping ever so briefly at my chest and then continuing down. Julian Baines was a tall, thin man who had a habit of slicking his thick blond hair back in a way that made him vaguely resemble an old time Mafioso. This morning, he was dressed in a casual linen suit that made him look like he belonged on the Lido Deck of cruise ship rather than in an executive office of one of the highest grossing biotech firms in the country. I'd thought he was too slick, but Dr. Powell had always treated him with the utmost respect, so I emulated him. This sleazy kind of once-over shifted my perspective. When he had finished, he gestured toward the chair across from his desk and said, "Have a seat."
"I'm sorry, Mr. Baines, I don't understand," I said as I tried to recall the last document I'd sent and shredded.
"Miss Frost, Alan Powell is dead," he said dropping the news swiftly.
"What do you mean?" I said as I looked around the room wondering if this was some kind of cruel joke. Alan Powell had hired me during my first year at NYU. I'd arrived a wide-eyed Midwesterner from the plains of Illinois and gradually become a savvy city-loving New Yorker. Dr. Powell had taken me under his wing, and shown me the ropes. His style had been more military than paternal, and I'd often found myself holding back tears when he'd chastise me for not knowing something that, to him, seemed perfectly obvious. I couldn't say I loved the man, but I did have absolute respect for him.
"I mean exactly what I said," Baines said in a clipped voice. "Alan is dead."
"How? What? Why?" I said as my thoughts tumbled out of my brain. "I don't understand. What happened?"
"The details remain somewhat murky," he said as he picked up a sheet of paper on his desk and scanned it. "It seems he might have been in the wrong place at the wrong time."
"I'm sorry, Mr. Baines," I said wrapping my arms around my body as a sudden chill ran up my spine. "I just don't understand. Dr. Powell was at a meeting this morning. He had a meeting with Ranger executives. It was on his schedule."
"Miss Frost, I recognize that this comes a shock," Baines said narrowing his eyes. "But please do try to get ahold of yourself. We're all broken up about the news, but this is a workplace, not a counseling center. When I have more details, I will inform you, but until then, please continue working as usual."
"I...I...yes, sir," I nodded as I stood up and turned to go.
"Oh, and Miss Frost?" he called as I walked to the door.
"Yes?"
"Please keep this news to yourself for now," he warned. "I'm sure you understand the delicate nature of this particular issue. The last thing we need is to activate the rumor mill and send it spinning out into the business world."
"Yes, sir," I nodded before turning to open the door. I could feel his eyes on me as I quickly exited the room.
"Are you okay, Echo?" Ruth asked. Her look of concern brought me close to breaking down, but I swallowed hard and simply nodded before turning away. I had a thousand questions, and for the first time since I'd begun working at TriCorp I had no one to answer them. I choked back a sob and headed to the ladies room where I locked myself in a stall and shed silent tears.
Everything in the office looked the same, but the entire world had shifted underneath me. Alan Powell had been the owner and CEO of TriCorp since its inception. He'd built a small medical research facility into one of the most profitable biomedical firms in the world, and he'd done it with military precision and a dedication to the greater good.
When he'd hired me, I'd been in a desperate sit
uation. My tuition had exceeded the amount of scholarship money I'd been awarded and without co-signers, I couldn't take out any loans, and I was faced with a choice of giving up or finding a way to earn enough money to make up the difference. I knew there was no way I could go back to Peoria and the small life that would await me there, so I began making the rounds at the temp agencies and religiously reading the help wanted ads. I considered everything, even escorting, but the newspaper horror stories about women mutilated and murdered while doing it resonated in my brain and I quickly discarded the notion.
I'd interviewed with Ruth two days after Dr. Powell's long-time assistant had retired. The woman had run his office with an iron fist, and when Ruth had called to tell me that Dr. Powell had hired me, my first question was, "Why?"
"He feels you have a great deal of potential, Miss Frost," she'd replied and then begun telling me when and where I was to report to in order to get my ID badge and fill out my paperwork. I listened and jotted down notes as she spoke, and remained in a daze for most of the rest of the day.
The next morning, I reported to the security office in the basement of the TriCorp building on 7th and 23rd where the head of security, Butch Wilson, took my picture and issued me a badge before giving me a tour of the building.
"What about floors seventeen through twenty-three?" I asked as we headed to the executive offices on the sixteenth floor.
"Don't bother yourself with those, Miss Frost," Butch said. "Those others are research floors and your badge won't allow you access to them."
"Oh, okay," I said trying to hide my disappointment.
"Don't feel bad, kiddo," Butch chuckled. "Very few people are allowed access to those floors. Only Dr. Powell and the research scientists are allowed up there."
"I see, well, then I guess I'll just have to confine myself to the other sixteen floors, won't I?" I smiled.
Butch nodded as the elevator doors slid open. We walked to a door at the end of the hall where Butch inserted a key and swung the door open. Inside was an enormous open space that was double the size of the tiny little apartment I rented over on 13th and Broadway. There was an enormous beech wood desk positioned in the middle of the room with a sleek silver computer monitor set off to the side and a modern looking phone set up next to it.