by Jack July
Leon was quiet for a minute. “How is she Jack? I mean, really, how IS she?”
Jack thought for a moment. “All things considered, I reckon she’s okay. She’s heartbroken. That boy she has to bury Sunday? I believe she thought he was the one. That’s gonna’ be rough on her. She reminds me a little of myself when I got back from Nam. A little lost, not sure what’s next. What she has that I didn’t have is choices.”
Leon looked up. “What kind of choices?”
“Well, you know the President offered her a letter of recommendation to any medical school she wants to go to.” Jack said, smiling. Then the smile left his face. “And the CIA wants her.”
Leon stood up and said, “What the hell for?”
Jack took a deep breath. “She ain’t got a PhD, and her typing ain’t real good, so I’m thinking covert operative. And yeah, that’s exactly what you think it is.”
“Assassin?” Leon exclaimed.
“Well. Not quite. It’s not like the movies, Leon. It’s more information gathering. They’ll train her, train her well, and, yes, there might be times when she does things to protect the country. I know what they’re lookin’ at. She killed a bunch of people and slept like a baby. Not many can do that.”
“So an assassin,” Leon said under his breath.
Jack let it sink in a little. “Maybe. Sometimes. But I don’t know for sure. I know this: she ain’t gonna be here long. If she’s anything like me, she’s gonna want to run. To where? I really don’t know. If you’re gonna spend time with her, I expect you’ll want to do it now. Like I said, she ain’t gonna be here long.”
CHAPTER 8
November 18th, 9:00 A.M.
It wasn’t the same President North the leaders of the Senate usually dealt with. This President North was terse and impatient, not charming and cheerful. Even the party on the other side of the aisle had a grudging respect for her honor, character and demeanor. That woman was not on display today. The velvet gloves were off, and Elizabeth North was showing them her iron fist.
“America is broke. You people -- all of you -- spent it all. It will now stop one way or the other. That’s the budget, period. If you don’t like it, I’ll take it to the people and explain to them how you have given away their children’s inheritance and pocketed the little left over. I’ll be happy to listen to other ways to cut spending, gentlemen, but tax and spend is all gone. Good day.”
One of the senators started to speak. President North glared at him until he subsided. Then she stood up and left.
On the other side of the door, she was no less severe. “Stevie, get me Tim and Grant in the Oval, ASAP.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
Thirty minutes later, they stood at attention in front of the Resolute desk. The President took off her glasses and stood up. “I’ve made my decision. I want whoever is responsible for that DVD dead. I want the makers and distributors dead. I want the kidnappers and traffickers of our little girls dead. Grant, if this was state-sponsored, I want a list of military options ready to go. Not ready in a few days, ready in hours. Is that understood?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
She took a deep breath. “Tim, who do you have to lead this?”
“Officer Tatiana Aziz. She is known as T. She’s a ruthless butcher, and she doesn’t stop.”
“I know her reputation, had lunch with her the other day. Sounds good. Give her whatever she wants, personnel, planes, ships, the Space Shuttle, I don’t care. You will not fail. Understood?”
“Yes ma’am.”
“Dismissed.”
November 19th 4:00 P.M.
T was startled awake from her catnap when her plane touched down at Millington Regional Jetport. It was located close to NFS Mid South and about thirty minutes away from West Memphis. A young sailor was waiting to transport her when she debarked. She smiled. He still had that new-sailor Aqua Velva smell.
“Where can I take you, ma’am?”
“I’ll be staying overnight at the BOQ. After I put away my things, you can take me to the red building.”
“The what?” Unsurprisingly, he sounded confused.
“I’ll show you where it is.”
He shook his head. “Ma’am, I know this base pretty well, there is nothing called the red building.”
“Just drive.”
He saluted. “Yes ma’am.”
After dropping her things off at the BOQ, Tatiana directed him behind the golf course and down a dirt road to the fenced-off base of a large microwave tower. Inside the fence was a small red windowless building the size of a two-car garage.
“What’s your name, sailor?”
“Seaman Kalen, ma’am.”
She smiled. “No, what’s your name?”
“Tom,” he said, ducking his head.
“Come back in one hour.” She opened the door and got out.
“But ma’am, the gate.”
“Goodbye, Tom. One hour.”
“Yes ma’am.” He backed up and drove down the road. Once he was out of sight, Tatiana held her ID up to a camera hidden next to the pole. A small gate hummed and clicked opened. She stepped into the side door of the building, where there was a narrow stairwell going down. At the bottom of the stairwell was a large steel door. She held up her ID to the scanner. The door clicked and she walked in. “Who’s in charge?”
A small chubby man walked up. “I’m Mitch. What can we do to help you?”
“I need a secure line to Director Dotson.”
Mitch directed her to a small conference/interrogation room, where she took a seat and waited for the director to appear on the screen.
Dotson came on the screen. She noted with amusement he looked very upset. “T, have you lost your fucking mind?”
“Moi?” said Tatiana. “You heard the President. Whatever I need.”
“Brandon Bolin is in Leavenworth. Leavenworth, for Christ’s sake. How am I supposed to get the convicted killer of a congressman out of Leavenworth? And don’t think I don’t know what’s on your mind.”
“He’s better than anyone I’ve ever met at decoding organizations. I think we’re looking at a South American gang dealing in human trafficking, at least for the first part of this.”
“How do you figure that?”
“Just a hunch. I’ll let you know if I find out more.”
“How about Cody Harrick? Come on, T. We had to throw his crazy ass out of the country after the debacle in Serbia. He damn near caused World War III. What the hell do you need him for?”
“He’s going to be my shadow. For your information, nobody threw him out. Your predecessor wanted him dead so I got him out.”
“I did not want to know that. Look, I don’t even know where the hell he’s at.”
“I sent you coordinates from here; it was the first SIPRNET access point I could get to. How about the rest?”
“The rest are more reasonable, thank God. The Polish agreed to let Boguslaw work with us in an official capacity, good choice, knows Eastern Europe better than anyone. Danny Kerr is on his way to Berlin from the sandbox. Thing One and Thing Two are already on site. What about that badass kid you’re recruiting?
“I’ll see her tomorrow.”
“You think it’s a good idea to throw a trainee in this mess?”
“That’s how I learned. Thrown into the deep end. Look how well I turned out.”
“Right.” The director took a piece of paper from someone off-camera, nodding his thanks. “This the place for Harrick?” He frowned. “T, those coordinates are in the middle of bumfuck Australia. How in the hell am I supposed to find him out there?”
“Oo, looks like we’re having some comms problems.”
“Don’t hang up on me T, GOD DAMMIT DON’T …” T smiled as she hit a button. The screen went black.
Mitch angl
ed his head. “Did you actually just hang up on the director of the CIA?”
“Nope.”
“But I saw you push --”
T’s eyes shot through him like a laser.
Mitch stuttered and said, “I think I need to get that console looked at.”
“Good idea,” said Tatiana with a smile. “Get me Adelle Harris as soon as you’re ah, up and running again.”
“Yes ma’am.”
November 5th, midnight
Carlos and Jorge swapped driving duties after they crossed the Mexican border. The old smuggling road was washed out and treacherous. Carlos was focused on driving when he heard a muffled scream.
He turned. Jorge was on top of Kristy, his hand digging at her pants. “Joder!”
Carlos slammed on the brakes, effectively throwing Jorge to the floor of the van. He climbed out of his seat, seized the dazed Jorge by the collar, and slapped him hard.
“Puta!” Carlos shouted. “If she is not pure, we don’t get paid.”
Jorge scowled and pulled away from him, shrugging his shirt back on and fastening his jeans. Carlos gently buttoned Kristy’s shirt and pants, then spoke to her in English. “I am so sorry, cara. I promise he won’t bother you again.” After giving Jorge another hard stare, he climbed back in the driver’s seat, starting the van again with a creak of gears.
Kristy didn’t really understand what just happened, but her level of terror went up another notch. She tried to reason it out. Carlos did protect her, at least this time. She peeked at Jorge, who was staring out the window now, arms folded. Maybe Carlos could be a friend.
They had about another 16 hours left on their journey.
CHAPTER 9
November 18th 7:30 P.M.
It was dark when Carla Jo and Amy returned from the city. A box containing a black Valentino dress and a new pair of Jimmy Choo heels -- simple, black, strappy -- were stored in the small space behind the seat. Amy never looked at the price tags. As usual, she didn’t want to know.
Carla Jo was still stunned. What had happened that her gentle niece could brutally beat someone half to death? “Are you hurt?”
Amy nodded. “I think I popped some stitches. You may have to sew me up.”
“Okay, hon. You come find me in a few minutes. I’ll get my kit ready.”
Carla Jo went in the house. There was still a light on in the garage, so Amy walked in to find Uncle Jack tinkering at his workbench.
He looked up and smiled. “Hi honey, find what you were looking for?”
“Yes, sir.”
He frowned at her shirt. “Is that blood?”
“Yeah.”
“Yours?”
“Nope.”
He sighed. “What now?”
“We stopped for gas and…” Amy explained what happened.
Jack sighed. “Jesus. Didja kill him?”
“No, but I think I tore him up pretty good. He won’t be bothering Joseph.” She smiled a little.
“Your brother is a big boy. He can take care of himself. He would have kicked JR’s ass just for talking to ya.
“Yeah, I know. Just old habits and all.” She looked around. “Do you have something I can clean with? I got a little blood in Aunt Carla Jo’s car, and the .38 needs to be cleaned.”
Jack sighed and shook his head. “I’ll clean it up, sweetheart.”
“Thanks, Uncle Jack.” She gave him a smile a hug and a kiss on the cheek, for all the world as if she were still a little girl.
Jack grabbed some rags and interior cleaner and went to work on the car. When Amy walked in the house, Carla Jo had the coffee table set up like a little operating table. Amy took off her hoodie.
“Lie down,” Carla Jo ordered. “This’ll be just like old times.” Aunt Carla Jo had been a trauma combat nurse in Vietnam and still kept her skills sharp.
About thirty minutes later, she was finished. “I feel brand new,” said Amy.
“While you’re here, let’s pick out some jewelry to go with that dress.”
“Okay,” said Amy. “Look, I’m sorry you had to see that.”
Carla Jo didn’t say a word. She just nodded her head and retrieved her good jewelry box. They pulled out several pieces of Jewelry and laid them out on the coffee table. Carla Jo held earrings up to her ears and draped several necklaces around her neck till she came up with something she felt was acceptable.
“So how are you getting to West Memphis?”
“Driving. I was gonna ask Carol if I could use her car.”
“Take the Vette,” said Carla Jo, and handed her the keys.
“Oh no, if something were to happen to it– I couldn’t do that–no, thank you anyway.”
“I don’t think she was asking,” said Jack, who had come in while they were hovering over Carla Jo’s treasures.
“The car completes the ensemble. Besides, it’s heavily insured. Take it home with you and enjoy it.”
Amy looked down for a moment and said “Okay, thank you. I’ll drop it off Sunday evening. Thanks again. I’m gonna go sit with Daddy for awhile. I haven’t really got to do that yet.”
“Good idea,” said Jack.
Carla Jo watched her drive away. Then, without looking at Jack, she said, “I’ve never seen that part of her before. My God.”
Jack gave her an understanding smile and put his arms around her from behind. He whispered, “I have.”
The weather had turned cool and the stars were out when Amy pulled the car up in front of her Daddy’s house. She could see him on the porch, slowly rocking in the oversized chair. The kitchen light coming through the windows dimly lit his silhouette. He had on his old Carhartt jacket with a stocking cap and close by was a half-pint mason jar. He was enjoying a little sip. Carol, Amy’s stepmother, wouldn’t allow the consumption of corn squeezin’s in the house.
Amy left her stuff in the car, walked up onto the porch and slowly sat down in his lap. She put her arms around his neck and laid her head on his shoulder. He smiled. “There’s my little girl.” They sat quietly for about a half hour. There wasn’t really anything to say.
After a while, headlights came into view around the bend of the road. It was Amy’s brother Joseph. Grinning, she hopped off of Daddy’s lap and greeted Joseph at his truck with a big hug. She had always adored him. They sat together in the porch swing across from Daddy. The crickets were out, even in the cold, playing the symphony of the countryside. Amy held Joseph’s hand and said, “Where you been?”
“Trying to get some used car parts from Earl Spencer,” Earl was Joseph’s racing friend. His wealthy grandfather had helped him finance his way into NASCAR’s Busch Grand National series. Joe had wanted to move up to late-model stock cars for the coming season, but found it to be cost-prohibitive. His racing dreams were all but gone.
“You graduate from high school this spring. What are you going to do next? Go to college?”
“I’m not doing real good in school. I don’t think I’m college material.”
“So, get a job, start a business, you’re smart.”
Leon spoke up, “Go ahead, Joe. Tell your sister what you plan on doing.” He took another sip.
“Well, I was thinking of enlisting in the Marines.”
It took Amy a few seconds for what he said to sink in. She jumped out of the swing. “No! No you are not. Not just no, HELL, NO!”
Joseph and Leon both sat up straight. Amy didn’t swear, ever. Leon smirked a little, remembering the conversation he had with Amy almost three years ago. He did all he could to talk her out of enlisting. Unfortunately, Joe was a Braxton and was just as stubborn as Amy. Leon prayed Amy could talk some sense into him.
“Amy I….” Joseph started to say something.
“SHUT UP!” Amy stood up and shouted. “SHUT YOUR MOUTH AND LISTEN TO ME!”
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nbsp; Joseph stood up and Amy poked him hard in the chest with two of her fingers. “Sit down!” she commanded, her big green eyes blazing like twin blowtorches. It was as if Leon was seeing a ghost. It was Amy’s mother all over again, her and her Irish temper. Joseph towered over Amy’s 5’11” frame, but he was familiar with her rage. He was smart enough not to stand up, but just sit and listen. “Do you know where I am going Sunday? Do you?” Joe nodded. “I’m going to bury the man that I loved, the man I wanted to marry. This war took him from me and it will not take you too.”
“I’m going to–” Joseph started as Amy cut him off.
“I’m not finished. Do you know what’s going on over there? I enlisted to help our country any way I could after we were attacked. Those people that attacked us? Most of them are dead or captured. What we are doing there now I’m not really sure. The people we are fighting? They’re not just from a different place but a different time. It’s nothing like America. Women and children are treated like dirt. Life is cheap and death is honored. Most of them don’t know why we are there and most of the ones that do want us out. This isn’t like any war you’ve seen on TV or in the movies. One minute you’re laughing and enjoying the company of these people, the next minute they’re trying to kill you. No uniforms, no army, no way to tell the good guys apart from the bad guys. It’s just people from another time. It’s insanity. I’m sure there is a reason for the war. It’s a big political picture that I have yet to understand. What I do understand is that you are not going there.”
Joseph looked at her, more hurt than angry. He spoke in a soft tone, “Then what? What am I supposed to do? I want out of here and, as far as I can see, the military is my only option. And you can’t stop me.”