The Devil You Know

by James P. Sumner

  I look at him. I see the double wings, front and center. Airman. First class. Just doing his job.

  “You can show me where Captain Vickers is.”

  “I’m sorry. And you are?”

  I show him my new ID. “In a hurry.”

  He shrinks back a couple of steps and swallows hard.

  I could get used to flashing this thing around. Saves me having to threaten people.

  “Follow me, sir,” says the airman.

  He leads me along the side of the runway, toward the third hangar. He slows and points to an open door cut into the larger hangar doors, which stand defiantly closed.

  “The captain’s inside, sir.”

  “Thank you.”

  I head for the door without looking back. I’m greeted by a buzz of activity when I step inside. A metal walkway runs along the walls. Equipment stations are positioned in the middle on all three sides, looking down over the wide-open central area. The hangar is filled with airmen and technicians, all seemingly focused on the source of the deafening noise in here: a small drone buzzing around above.

  I survey the large area, scanning the faces for the one I came to see.

  On the far side, up on the walkway, I see a woman dressed in fatigues, standing behind a console. She appears to be the one controlling the drone.

  Hello, Captain Vickers.

  Keeping to the side, I make my way around and climb the steps. I stop a respectful distance away from her. Now that I’m closer, I can see her chestnut hair is neatly tied back. I see the laser focus in her eyes as she operates the drone. Her hands instinctively control the joysticks in front of her.

  She has a strong, confident posture. Justifiably so. Her military record is incredible.

  “Can I help you?” Vickers shouts.

  The couple of technicians standing with her don’t react. I guess she means me.

  “I mean you, suit guy,” she says, as if reading my mind.

  I step to her side. “You look busy. I didn’t want to distract you.”

  “I am and you’re not. Are you here to see me?”

  Her eyes never leave the drone.

  “I am. Is there somewhere we can speak privately?”

  “Not right now. Come back in a couple of hours.”

  I smile. “Yeah, that’s not how this is going to work. Your colonel knows I’m here to talk to you. This is the highest priority, Captain. I’m gonna need you to put your toy down now. I’m kinda on the clock here.”

  Vickers glances sideways at me, frowning, but doesn’t say anything.

  It takes her a couple of minutes, but she carefully lands the drone in the center of the hangar. She nods to the technician beside her, then steps away from the console and looks back at me.

  “Follow me.”

  She leads me down the steps and back across the hangar floor, toward an office in the corner. She steps inside and moves behind the desk, putting her back to the left wall. I close the door behind me and close the horizontal blinds hanging over the glass pane.

  She gestures to the seat opposite her as she sits down. I remain standing.

  “So, what can I do for you?” asks Vickers, clasping her hands together on the desk.

  Let’s see how good my sales pitch is, shall we?

  “First of all, what I’m about to say doesn’t leave this room. If word of this meeting finds its way out into the real world, I’ll know it was you who leaked it. Then you’ll be in more shit than you can comprehend.”

  She shrugs. “We’re not here. Got it.”

  “Excellent. Now, do you know who I am?”

  She shakes her head. “Should I?”

  “I guess not. Did the colonel tell you to expect me?”

  “He didn’t. I’ve been locked away in here the last couple of days. What’s this about?”

  “I’m a… contractor, I guess, for the government. I’m here to recruit you.”

  She smiles politely. “The Air Force beat you to it. Sorry.”

  “It sure did,” I reply, returning the gesture. “Jessica Vickers. Although, you prefer Jessie, right? Born March 7, 1988, in Goose Creek, South Carolina. Joined the United States Air Force in 2014. Just over a year later, you became the first woman to ever complete Combat Controller Training, making you both a trailblazer for women in the military everywhere and a member of one of the most elite units the Air Force has. Your record is exemplary. Your piloting skills are unrivaled. You were understandably highlighted and fast-tracked by the brass, which is why you’ve reached the rank of Captain in a little over five years. Given there’s little opportunity to see action nowadays, you’ve been assigned here to help develop and test new drone technology. Did I miss anything?”

  Vickers is staring at me blankly.

  I hope I remembered all that correctly. I memorized her file on the flight over here.

  She recovers. “Yeah, that… that about sums me up. I’m sorry—who are you?”

  “The name’s Adrian. I’ve been tasked with putting together a team. Kind of a best of the best thing. I want you to be a part of it.”

  “I don’t understand. I didn’t apply for anything. Was I put forward in some way?”

  “You were on a list of ten names compiled by leaders of every branch of the military at the request of the president. I was told I could pick three. I picked you.”

  Her eyes are still slightly wider than normal. Disbelief. Shock. Confusion.

  “Why?” she asks.

  I sigh. “Do I have to recite all that stuff about you again? Honestly, I’ve already forgotten half of it. You’re good, Jessie. You’re better than good. You’re incredible. I want you on my team.”

  Vickers frowns. “And what’s the purpose of this new team, exactly? What would I be doing?”

  I try to hide a wince of dread. I hate the answer I need to give.

  “I can’t tell you,” I say. “Not right now. Not until you’re on board.”

  “Okay. Well, I appreciate you coming to see me and your theatrics of quoting my record to me.”

  “Theatrics? I thought that was pretty cool.”

  She rolls her eyes. “Oh, Jesus. Look, I’m happy where I am. Another twelve months, I could be looking at a promotion to Major. You don’t impress me with a half-assed attempt at cloak-and-dagger bullshit that you’re clearly not comfortable with in the first place.”

  I frown. “Half-assed? I worked on this.”

  “And you really need to stop repeating what I’m saying. It’s annoying.”

  “Annoying?”

  I smile. She doesn’t reciprocate.

  “Fine,” I say with a sigh. “This isn’t one of those things where you’re the first choice, but there’s plenty more where you came from if you say no. I’m also not here to blow smoke up your ass. You’re it. The only choice. I don’t need someone like you, Jessie. I need you. You and the other two names on my list. You’re the only ones who are gonna make this work.”

  Vickers stands and moves around the desk. She stops in front of me and folds her arms across her chest.

  “And what is this?” she asks.

  “It’s a chance to make a difference. To take the fight to the real bad guys and actually protect people.”

  “What bad guys? There aren’t any wars to fight anymore. We just get paid to sit around and watch GlobaTech Industries stop anyone still trying to step out of line.”

  The disdain in her voice is hard to miss. I can imagine a lot of people in the military share her view.

  “I do real work here,” she continues. “The technology I’m helping develop and test has real-world applications. It can help get vital supplies to hard-to-reach areas without risking human life. It can replace technology and communications to the nations that were blown back to the Stone Age by 4/17. I’m a key part of that here, and I won’t walk away from it.”

  I nod. “That’s great. Honestly. You might not like it or agree with it, but GlobaTech has been doing that for two years, and they’re bet
ter and faster at it than you. Your talents are wasted here. I’m giving you the chance to blaze some more trails and put your substantial set of skills to better use.”

  “Doing what?”

  “I still can’t tell you. But I will say this. You think there aren’t more wars to fight? You’re wrong. Not only are you wrong, but you’re woefully ill-equipped to fight the wars that are coming. Like it or not, GlobaTech aren’t. They’re currently the only ones out there on the front lines, and they need help. The government asked me to train a team, so they’re up to the task.”

  Vickers steps away, seemingly appeased and curious. She sits on the edge of the desk and looks at me.

  “When you say the government is doing this…”

  I smile. “I mean the president of the United States and a few others who are important enough to remain anonymous.”

  “Right. And you.”

  “And me.”

  “Seriously, who are you? Really? You’re not a spook. You’re not military.”

  “I’m…”

  I pause, debating how much to say. I can’t tell if this conversation is working or not. I absolutely can’t mention anything about Project Blackstar yet. But I need to say something to get her to take this seriously.

  Screw it.

  “Let’s just say I helped get President Schultz elected.”

  Vickers narrows her eyes. She stares at me, confused. Then her face relaxes. Her eyes widen. Her mouth hangs open.

  “You’re him,” she exclaims. “You’re that Adrian, aren’t you?”

  I nod solemnly. “I am.”

  “Holy shit.”

  “Jessie, the president and I have a history. As most people know, I’ve had a rough couple of weeks, but he called me and gave me the same hard sell I’m giving you. I know it’s a lot to ask for you to have a little faith, but you have to trust me. This team… it’s the real deal. As real as it gets.”

  She stands and paces away, walking a slow line back and forth beside the desk. I see her eyes dart back and forth at the floor in front of her—a sign of how hard the cogs inside her head are turning.

  Eventually, Vickers stops and looks at me. “I can’t just be reassigned. That’s not how it works. First, I would need to speak to the colonel and—”

  I hold up a hand. “Let me stop you right there. First, the colonel doesn’t get a say in anything. This is so far above his pay grade, it’s in orbit. Second, this isn’t reassignment. If you agree to this, you would be leaving the Air Force. Officially, you would be granted an honorable discharge, for the purposes of keeping up appearances on your military record.”

  She frowns. “Then what?”

  “Then you would disappear.”

  She doesn’t say anything.

  I smile. “How’s that for cloak-and-dagger bullshit?”

  “This is a lot to take in. I mean, I have to—”

  “You don’t have to do anything, Jessie. Why do you think you were on the shortlist in the first place? No immediate family beyond an elderly mother. No partner or spouse. No dependents. Few friends. You were picked for a reason.”

  “But I—”

  I reach into my pocket and take out a card. I hand it to her.

  “What’s this?” she asks.

  I nod to it. “That’s the address of a decommissioned Air Force base in London. Be there at nine a.m. on the dot, five days from now.”

  “I haven’t agreed to any of this yet. In fact, so far, I’ve said nothing but the exact opposite.”

  “I’m sure you’ll change your mind when you’ve had some time to think about it. Your country needs you, Jessie. I’ve seen your record—and your psych profile if I’m being completely honest. There’s a good fight to be fought. You don’t strike me as the kind of person who walks away from that.”

  I head for the door.

  “Hey, hang on,” she calls after me. “You can’t just leave.”

  I open the door and look back at her. “Five days, Captain. I’ll see you there.”

  Then I leave.

  I walk at pace across the hangar, toward the entrance. I’ve got another flight to catch in an hour, so I need to get moving.

  I think back to how that meeting went and shake my head.

  Your country needs you.

  Jesus, Adrian.

  If she doesn’t show up, I can guarantee it’s because I said that.

  6

  16:16 PST

  One of the benefits of having your own money—or, in this case, using someone else’s—is that you can afford to circumnavigate logistical issues other people might face.

  For example, I’ve been in the air about an hour. I left Spokane without issue. Whether it was a successful trip remains to be seen, but the job’s done, and I’m onto the next one. But I’m flying a direct route to a place where there aren’t any direct commercial routes. I can do that because I’m sitting inside a private jet that’s been borrowed from the CIA.

  Aside from a change of clothes, the only thing I have with me is a large briefcase. Its contents aren’t exactly something I could stow in the overhead on a commercial flight, but I figured I’d rather have them and not need them than… well, you know the rest.

  Another benefit of flying private and working for the government.

  My next recruit is currently in Pakistan.

  I say currently because he wasn’t there yesterday and won’t be there two days from now. I’m operating within a small window of opportunity. Thankfully, I have plenty of time to think about it. This flight is apparently going to take over seventeen hours and cross several time zones.

  For all I know, I’m either going to land twelve hours before I took off or three days after.

  Christ.

  Before I get too deep into this flight and the file reading, I’ll check in with Ruby.

  I pick up the sat phone beside me and call her cell. She answers quickly.

  “Hey,” I say.

  “Hey yourself,” she replies.

  I smile at the sound of her voice.

  “How did it go in North Carolina?”

  “Good. I think. I don’t know. It turns out I’m not great at the cloak-and-dagger hard sell.”

  I laugh. “I know the feeling. I used the phrase your country needs you at one point.”

  “Okay, I wasn’t that bad…”

  “Gee, thanks. I reckon Vickers is on board, though.”

  “Same with Link.”

  “Link?”

  “Yeah, Lincoln March. He said he prefers Link.”

  “Uh-huh. And was he flirting with you when he said it?”

  “Possibly.”

  We share a laugh.

  “Not getting jealous, are you?” Ruby asks playfully.

  “Depends. Could I take him?”

  She pauses. “I dunno… he was a big guy. Lots of muscles. Kinda cute too.”

  “Whatever.”

  She laughs. “Are you doing that face?”

  “What face?”

  “You know, the face you pull when you’re super unimpressed and struggling to resist the urge to reach for your gun.”

  I glance out the window next to me, trying to see my reflection. I’m scowling a little, and my eyes are blank canvases of hatred and general displeasure.

  Huh.

  “Yeah, I’m doing the face.”

  Ruby laughs harder, causing some static on the line.

  “I didn’t even realize,” I continue. “Do I always look like this when I’m not happy?”

  “You do. It’s cute.”

  “Okay, I might not have known I do it, but I doubt that’s the reaction I’m going for.”

  “Oh, don’t get me wrong. It’s scary as Hell. Your death stare would make a grown man wet his pants. It just doesn’t work on me. I react that way for different reasons.”

  I laugh to hide the fact my cheeks just flushed with color, despite the fact that there’s no one here.

  “Jesus! Still… nice save.”

&nbs
p; “Thanks! I gotta protect my man’s fragile ego somehow.”

  “Yeah, given you take great pleasure in making it fragile to begin with.”

  “Why, whatever do you mean?”

  We laugh again.

  “I miss you.”

  “I miss you too. You all set for the final name on the list?”

  I look at the folder on the seat opposite me. I had to print it out, so I could read it without carrying a laptop around with me.

  “I will be by the time I land.”

  “When will that be?”

  “Ah, I have no fucking idea. These time zones are weird.”

  Ruby sighs. “When did you leave Spokane?”

  “I dunno. Just after three?”

  There’s a slight pause.

  “Okay. You’ll land a little after eight p.m. tomorrow night, local time.”

  I frown. “How the hell did you work that out?”

  “There’s an app on my phone.”

  “Really? They can do that?”

  I can almost hear the eye roll.

  “Christ, you’re old.”

  “Hey, I’m not old. I’m traditional.”

  “No, Adrian. Thanksgiving is traditional. You’re antiquated. Like the dinosaurs. Oh! Can I call you Tyradriansaurus Rex?”

  “No.”

  “What about Hellociraptor?”

  “I’m hanging up now.”

  “Killersaurus?”

  “Bye, Ruby.”

  “Wait, I have more…”

  I end the call and toss the phone onto the seat next me. I spend the next few minutes staring blankly out the window, watching the ocean of clouds below me float by.

  I’m not old.

  Am I?

  ??:??

  I must’ve fallen asleep. I check the time, but it’s unlikely to be accurate. I have no idea where I am, and I don’t care enough to ask. Light’s fading outside, so I’ve been out a while.

  I stand to stretch my legs and back. I pace along the cabin, occasionally cracking my neck.

  This is a nice plane. I’ve been in a few over the years. I don’t typically do well in private jets. Having been hijacked in one and forced to jump out of the other as it exploded, my opinion of them is tainted. But this is nice. Thick carpet underfoot. Plenty of legroom. The leather on the seats is soft and doesn’t squeak when I try to get comfortable. The pilot and copilot were friendly.