Warning Order: A Search and Destroy Thriller

by Joshua Hood

  “What now?” he asked meekly.

  “This shit is all over the news,” said Cage, “and the people want blood. An eye for an eye, that’s the American way, and I’m about to give it to them. The president will want me to hold his little hand and tell him it’s going to be okay, and we’re going to go in there and do just that. Before the end of the day, we are going to have a battalion of paratroopers in Iraq, and you know what? The people of the United States are going to be begging for more. But I need you with me. We have to see it through, or all the sacrifices are for nothing.”

  Jacob’s head fell to his chest, and he closed his eyes before making the only decision he had left.

  “Let’s do it.”

  CHAPTER 34

  * * *

  Colonel Anderson stood with his back to Renee, watching the live news coverage coming out of the Persian Gulf. A pretty blond anchor had just been talking to a retired admiral, and then the picture switched to an aerial view of the rescue operations being conducted near the Strait of Hormuz.

  A small fleet of boats was carefully navigating the watery debris field as it searched for survivors. Two huge salvage ships were anchored on the other side of the strait, and their crews were working feverishly to reopen the vital channel. The yellow news ticker along the bottom of the screen said that the president would be addressing the nation in the next hour, and then posted the estimated casualty rate.

  Renee felt her heart sink as the figure floated across the screen. It read, “Two thousand, thirty-nine suspected dead in carrier attack.” For some reason, her mind shifted to al Qatar. Could he have something to do with this? Was something like that even possible?

  “Fuck,” Colonel Anderson swore.

  Parker had come to tell her that the colonel wanted to talk to her, and the look on his face was a mix of guilt and embarrassment, which immediately made her expect the worst.

  Renee wanted to believe that Anderson was one of the good guys, despite Mason’s constant warnings that there was more to him than she saw. The colonel had always been civil to her, but something told her that was about to change.

  Anderson was unable to hide the anger glinting in his eyes. “Two questions, one chance: Where is Mason, and where in the fuck is David?” he demanded.

  She knew all about Anderson’s hatred of Mason, and she wanted nothing to do with that fight. “Excuse me?”

  “Don’t play dumb. I know David came to see you. He thought he was slick, landing without informing the tower, but the pilot had to file another flight plan, so I guess he’s not as slick as he thinks.”

  Anderson was fuming, and as he spoke, bits of tobacco shot out of his mouth.

  “A couple hours ago, I get a fucking hit on Boland’s beacon. You want to guess what the search and rescue team found when they landed?”

  “No idea, sir,” she said honestly.

  “They found his headless fucking body, that’s what they found. Now, I need to know what those two are up to, and I need to know right now.”

  Renee was staggered by the fact that Boland had been killed. “Sir, I have no—”

  “Cut the shit,” he said, kicking one of the trash cans with a hollow boom; it rolled metallically across the floor. “I was there when you two went after Barnes, remember? I know David offered you a job, and then got you assigned to the task force. I’m not fucking stupid. But guess what? Unlike Mason, you are still in the military, and no matter what you think, you are still under my command.”

  Anderson paused to catch his breath. Then he pointed his finger at Renee. “So if you don’t start talking, right now, I am going to have your ass locked up.”

  She knew that no matter what she said, Anderson wasn’t going to believe her. Renee had never seen him like this, and suddenly she was reminded of her old boss General Swift. The only time the general showed this kind of rage was when he was being painted into a corner, and Renee suddenly had a sneaking suspicion that Anderson was involved in the attack.

  “Sir, I promise you that I have no idea what’s going on.”

  “Then how about we start with what you do know?”

  She was going to treat the colonel like what he was: a venomous snake. “Like you said, David was here. He said that you kept him out of the loop on purpose, and that he had a job to do.”

  “Kept him out of the loop? He was in fucking Erbīl, for fuck’s sake,” Anderson spat.

  Renee thought to herself, “And you deliberately launched the raid when he was in Erbīl.” But she repeated yet again that she had no idea what was going on.

  “Look,” Anderson said, seeming to realize that she couldn’t be bullied, “I know that some of the guys have been on your ass, but you’ve played the game before; you know how it goes.”

  Renee just looked at him, wishing she could comment on the understatement of the year, but she knew better than to say anything at this point. Her career was on the line.

  “As much as you might want to blame me, we are on the same team, and I need to know where Mason is. This shit is a game changer,” he said, pointing to the TV.

  “I can’t tell you what I don’t know.”

  “Fine, you’re done here,” Anderson snapped. “I’m sending you back to the States.”

  “But sir.”

  “It’s done,” he yelled. “I am going to recommend that you be charged with insubordination, so you can kiss your career good-bye. Pack your shit and get your ass to the flight line. You are going home.”

  The news hit Renee like a kick to the gut, and she felt her knees go weak beneath her. The army was all she had ever known, and Anderson had just taken it away. It didn’t matter if the charges went through. Renee knew she was done in the Special Operations world. She’d never be trusted again.

  “Why the fuck are you still here?” he asked coldly.

  Renee’s eyes were burning from the tears welling up as she stomped from the ops area. She needed to get to her room before she lost it.

  “Hey,” Parker called from where he’d been waiting, but she kept going without looking up.

  “Renee, hey, what’s wrong?”

  She knew Parker must have been the one who’d snitched her out in the first place; after all, he’d seen her with David. “Leave me the hell alone,” she ordered.

  “Whoa, hold on, what the hell happened?” he asked, jumping in front of her.

  “Get the fuck out of my way. I don’t want to see you,” she yelled, pushing past him.

  She hit the door leading to the sleeping area with both hands, and it slammed against the wall with a hollow thud. Turning the corner, she could see her room up ahead, and then Warchild stepped out into the hall.

  “I’ll tell you what happened,” he said, leaning against his door frame. “Your girl got canned ’cause she thinks she doesn’t have to follow orders.”

  “What the fuck are you talking about?” Parker demanded.

  Renee felt something snap, and a white-hot rage fell over her.

  She turned on Warchild like a wild animal, her fists flying out before he could step out of the way.

  The first blow hit him in the solar plexus, doubling him over, and she stepped forward, snapping a vicious knee up toward his face. Warchild was caught totally off guard, and Renee felt his face bounce off her thigh. She was about to drop an elbow on the back of his neck when Parker grabbed her from behind and lifted her off her feet.

  Warchild staggered backward, bleeding from his nose, but he recovered quickly and started toward Renee.

  “Let that bitch go,” he yelled as Renee kicked at his face.

  “Fuck you,” she spat. “I’ll kill you.”

  “Chill the fuck out,” Parker yelled, swinging her away from their team leader.

  “You’re dead, bitch. Do you hear me? You’re fucking dead.”

  Parker kicked her door open and tossed her onto her bed. He held his hands up in the air, trying to signal peace, when Warchild came flying in the room. He lowered his shoulder and slamme
d into the master sergeant’s back, knocking him to the ground.

  Renee jumped to her feet. This time she was going to shut that big mouth of his.

  “You want some of me, bleeder?” Warchild yelled.

  Parker grabbed onto his leg, tripping him up, just as Renee launched a roundhouse kick to Warchild’s head.

  He stumbled out of the way, causing the kick to go wide. Meanwhile, more men piled into the room.

  “What the fuck is this shit?” Sergeant Major Jason Mitchell roared, pushing one of the operators out of his way and barging into the room.

  His massive bulk filled the door frame, and his face was a dark shade of scarlet. He grabbed Warchild by the shirt and snatched him off his feet. “You stay the fuck out of her room,” he yelled before tossing Warchild out into the hall.

  Next he grabbed Parker by his arm, yanked him to his feet, and twisted his arm behind his back. “Get out of my sight before I break your neck,” he muttered, shoving him toward the door. He then turned on the spectators: “The rest of you fucking gossips need to do something with your time—before I find you something to do.”

  The room cleared out in record time, and the sergeant major slammed the door so hard that the walls shook.

  “Lock it up,” he ordered, and Renee snapped to parade rest.

  She could see the fire in his eyes and knew without a doubt that she was fucked.

  “What is this bullshit?”

  “Bad day, Sergeant Major,” she stammered, trying to catch her breath.

  “I could give a fuck. What is your malfunction?” he yelled, stepping into her face.

  Despite all the firefights and near misses she’d had, there was nothing as terrifying as the righteous anger on display in the tiny room. Renee felt her heart skip a beat as Mitchell’s rage washed over her like a tidal wave, his massive fists trembling at his sides.

  “You’re pissed off because you got your ass in a sling, is that it? You think busting Warchild in the face is going to make it better?”

  “Negative, Sergeant Major,” she replied.

  “I’ve watched you piss on this command since you got here. Do you think you’re special? You think the rules don’t apply to you?”

  “Negative,” Renee replied, the adrenaline draining from her body, leaving her feeling weak and exposed. She remembered that she’d just been fired.

  “You think that bitch-ass CIA fuck is going to save you? You better answer me right now, or so help me, I will put you in a fucking box.”

  “Sergeant Major, I have no excuse,” she said quietly. “Let me get my shit, and I’ll be out of your hair.”

  Renee watched Mitchell take a step back as he tried to calm himself, but his blood was up, and he was still looking for a fight. His hands opened and closed rapidly. For some reason only he knew, that made his rage disappear.

  “What the hell happened to you?” he asked finally, his voice even.

  “I lost my shit,” she said honestly.

  “Jesus, Renee, I’ve been going head-to-head with the old man, trying to keep you on the task force, and you play right into his hands. I thought you were smarter than that.”

  “Guess not.”

  “You ready to quit?”

  “What else am I going to do,” she demanded.

  “Stand at ease,” he said, running his hand over his face.

  Renee relaxed, suddenly feeling ashamed of herself.

  “How fucked up are you?”

  “Excuse me?”

  “Don’t give me that. I know what happened to you in Pakistan.”

  “That has nothing to do with this,” she said defensively.

  “You’ve seen a lot of shit in a short time. I get it, but if you can’t get a grip, I can’t use you.”

  It seemed like he was offering her a way out, although she didn’t see how. “It doesn’t matter. The colonel said I’m done.”

  “Fuck him, he won’t be running shit pretty soon—not after that fucked-up mission he had us launch. Look, there is a war coming, and it’s coming fast. You know what happened in the Gulf. You think the president’s going to let that pass?”

  “Looks like I’ll be sitting that one out,” she said glumly.

  “You are so hardheaded,” he said, exasperated. “You know, I’ve got a daughter like you: thinks she knows everything, but she doesn’t have the sense to get out of her own way.”

  “I apologize, Sergeant Major,” she replied formally.

  “Cut that shit out. Look, we need people like you, but if you can’t get your head right, I can’t use you.” He lowered his voice, making her aware that others might be listening in. “Tell me what the hell is going on, tell me what you know, and I will do everything in my power to keep you on the team.”

  Renee could see that Mitchell really cared, and as she sat down on the bed, she made the decision to trust him. In a voice just above a whisper she told him, “Mason said a guy named al Qatar is behind all of this.”

  “Who the fuck is al Qatar?”

  “I don’t know, but David does.”

  “I am so tired of the CIA and their bullshit,” Mitchell said wearily, taking a can of dip from his pocket and cracking his finger across the lid. “If he knows, then where the fuck is he? Why doesn’t he give us something?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “I swear to God, between him and Mason Kane, it’s a wonder I have any hair left. You know, I was with ol’ Mason in Iraq.”

  “I’ve heard you talk about that,” she said, watching him shove a massive pinch of dip into his mouth before closing the lid.

  “He’s the real deal, maybe one of the best operators I’ve ever seen. Well, maybe besides Boland.”

  “I knew they were tight.”

  “Thick as fucking thieves. You know, Mason is a lot like you: kept to himself most of the time, but when he was on an op, he was one deadly motherfucker. Maybe he told you, but he had to raise himself when his dad split and his mom became a fucking drunk. Brought himself out of the fucking gutter.” Suddenly the sergeant major turned and whipped open the door. No one was lingering outside. He closed it again and went on in a more normal tone of voice. “In any case, a lot of guys believe that bullshit they said about him, but it wasn’t true. No way the guy I knew would kill a bunch of kids.”

  Renee simply nodded, glad that Mitchell’s assessment matched her own.

  “Where is he? I know that you know what he’s doing.”

  “He’s going after al Qatar.”

  “Figured as much. David really knew what he was doing when he latched onto our boy. It was a smart play getting him to go after Barnes. What he doesn’t realize, though, is that he can’t protect Mason. He’s got a lot of enemies, especially the colonel.”

  “Why?”

  “Because Anderson will do anything to win, and if that means leaving some of our guys flapping, then I can promise you he won’t miss a wink of sleep. Do you understand what I’m telling you?”

  “Not really,” she said.

  “The only way you can help Mason is by getting back in the game. If you really care about him, then you have to stick around to watch his back. Because I can promise you that there are people waiting for him to slip up so they can drop the hammer on him. Barnes had a lot of powerful friends.”

  “What do you want me to do?”

  “I’m going to go talk to the boss, see if I can get this shit sorted out. I’m not making any promises, but I’m going to do my best,” he said, turning toward the door.

  “Sergeant Major,” she said from the edge of the bed.

  “Yeah?”

  “Thank you. I owe you one.”

  “Don’t get all excited yet. Wait and see what I can do.”

  CHAPTER 35

  * * *

  Mr. David had been expecting something big, but never in his wildest imagination had he considered that General Vann would allow al Qatar to blow up an aircraft carrier. The horror of what he’d seen on the TV monitors at Kennedy
Airport had shocked him to his core, and even now, as he drove south toward Virginia, he couldn’t believe it.

  The usually implacable spy felt righteous anger overcoming the immense sadness as he listened to talk radio. The host was interviewing a retired general, and, as usual, their theories couldn’t have been further from the truth.

  “This attack has all the hallmarks of al Qaeda, there is no doubt in my mind,” the host was saying.

  David was tempted to pick up the prepaid cell phone he had bought in New York and call in to the radio station. But he knew that no one would ever believe that this attack originated in the nation’s capital.

  He checked the map spread out on the passenger seat and merged to the left to get off the expressway. It was raining, and the lights from the other vehicles made it hard to see as he slowed at the end of the ramp and turned onto the surface street.

  After another twenty minutes, he pulled into a suburban neighborhood and parked the rental car four houses down from his objective. He opened the glove box and slipped the fake passport out of his back pocket and tossed it inside. After folding up the map carefully, he placed it on top of the passport and shut the glove box with a snap.

  He reached into the backseat, grabbed the backpack, and opened the door, stepping out into a light rain. He’d already disengaged the dome light, so there was no chance of him being backlit as he closed the door, heading for a two-story brownstone.

  At the back door of the house, he paused to don a pair of latex gloves. Then he slipped a headlamp over his forehead and activated the tiny blue light. Taking a lock pick set out of the bag, he inserted it into the door. He sensed his way until he felt the tumblers click into place.

  The spy turned the knob slowly, listening for the squeak of the hinges, and stepped inside. He went straight to an alarm panel that chirped in the darkness. After typing the code into the panel, the beeping stopped, but before he closed the access lid, he hit the rearm button.

  David wiped his feet on the rug before heading upstairs to the bedroom.