The Suitcase

by T V Scribner

  "I'm sorry," she said quickly, "you don't need to answer, I didn't mean to pry."

  He began speaking again, "I married five years after joining Special Forces, but like Riley, my marriage ended in divorce after three years. Marriage is a casualty of this profession, due to the dangers, and months spent in faraway places, where communication is difficult, if not impossible. It takes its toll and accounts for the above average divorce rate for men, in this line of work. There are a few who manage to make it work, but they're few and far between."

  Paisley wondered if he'd told her everything, but decided not to push any further, since the information satisfied her for the time being. She was quiet, and content…back to enduring the difficult ride. As she gazed out the window, trees, brush and tangled undergrowth flew by, scratching along the sides of the van, the vans windows and the van's roof, as they bounced along.

  "Hopefully, we'll be there soon," she said.

  Exhaustion from the intense events of the morning, and fear of what was next, nagged at her after listening to the conversations between Boone and Riley. Boone was intent as ever, as he pushed the van through the difficult terrain, towards their destination, at breakneck speed. Yanked from her thoughts when the van careened to the left, she could tell they were on another dirt road, barely drive-able, and covered with saplings and vegetation. After a few jarring minutes, they emerged into a clearing, occupied by a large encampment.

  Three or four large tents, were set up in the clearing, along with one extra large tent, and a group of smaller tents, to accommodate the men. Tactical vehicles and trucks of various sizes, appropriated for the mission, were parked at the perimeter of the clearing, along with giant tractors and other machinery.

  "Are we at the site of the suitcase bomb?" Paisley asked, apprehensively.

  CHAPTER 36

  Cayuna Range, Base Camp

  "No, we're far enough away for safety,” Boone assured her and smiled, stretching his arms to the sky, as he tried to unwind following the arduous drive.

  "The entrance to its actual location is about a half mile or more away. I requested our command center to be set up here, where we'd be more camouflaged by the densely wooded area.” He added calmly, "I'd like you to sit here for a little bit, while I check in with my men."

  He spoke with such kindness, as she gazed into his eyes. Who is this man? There are so many facets to his personality, she thought. Leaning back against her seat, with one foot still dangling out the door, she watched him stride towards the tents, where men were milling around. Mulling over all the things Boone needed to plan for this mission, she chastised herself for asking so many personal questions as they drove to this camp, when he needed to focus on more critical things.

  The camp perimeter was shaded by sentry-like jack pines, aged oak trees, which towered into the cloud-filled sky, and birches, with their dappled bark. Paisley wasn't very knowledgeable when it came to plants and trees, even though they seemed to be waving their branches at her. She enjoyed taking in the beauty of the area, even with tents set up, as if it were some innocuous family camping trip. The large transport trucks and armored vehicles stationed at the clearing’s perimeter, belied the innocence of the campsite, and brought the reality of the mission, into focus. It seemed a bit surreal.

  "Have the communications team give you all the latest info on the status, of the Russians," Boone ordered, “…and, what's our final plan?”

  Riley referred to his notepad. "Here goes! We have a tracker on Zolotov's vehicle so the minute it leaves Brainerd and heads to the compound, Delta One, led by Carson, will follow it out of town and take it down as soon as it's in an unpopulated area. The team will have Zolotov in captivity, which cuts off the head of the snake. Mishka will translate for Carson, if necessary "

  Boone, Riley and a team of men filed into the main tent, and sat at one of the tables. Riley continued, "Delta Two, led by Perez, will infiltrate the area around the Russian encampment and ready themselves for a firefight, and Delta Three, led by Chaser, will rush the compound and attack. Also, Vasily will go along to translate."

  “Will the transport heli be on hand in a secure location? It has to be ready to pick up our men, their prisoners, and any casualties from the aftermath, of the attack,” Boone added.

  "Yes," Riley said, "and then it will be Russia's guerrilla-like, blunt-force, old-school warfare tactics, against our new technologies and strategies, and I predict we'll win!"

  "Now that's a plan! Copy that!" Boone said menacingly, and they all agreed.

  Shortly after leaving the main tent, Boone looked back at the van, caught Paisley’s eye, and beckoned her to join him. She hopped out of the van and hustled over to stand next to him, while he introduced her to the small group he’d just addressed. The men stared at her with curiosity. He introduced Tom Mitchell to her, as he was to see that she was outfitted with the clothing she would need for the rest of the day, and the next. Boone also requested Mitchell to give her appropriate weapons.

  Boone turned to her, “Follow Mitchell. He'll take you to your designated tent, where you can change clothes…try and nap for a bit, if you can…we have big things to accomplish, soon enough," he grinned and walked away towards a larger tent, leaving her standing with Mitchell.

  Mitchell appeared to be in his middle to late forties, of medium height, but stocky, with a military haircut and prematurely graying sides. He had a tanned, weather-beaten face, out of which, gray eyes gazed seemed to inspect her. His pleasant smile caused his eyes to squint, and he said, "They call me Mitch around here. C’mon little lady, let's get you settled," and he ambled towards a small oak patterned, camouflage tent, while she trailed behind him.

  "Yes, sir,” she said quietly under her breath, and attempted not to take umbrage at the ‘little lady’ comment, as she followed Mitch, to her tent.

  With the flap thrown back, she entered and looked around, then noticed a table stacked with clothes, a cot with a pillow and sleeping bag, "Well, this looks cozy," she said.

  Mitch chuckled at her comment and added, "Nothin’ but the finest!"

  "So, what now?"

  Mitch strolled to the table which held the stacks of folded clothes, and handed Paisley one of the stacks, which consisted of camouflage pants, a shirt, socks and boots, and a warm puffy jacket for the chillier nighttime weather.

  "Put these on for the time being, and the second stack, contains extreme protective wear, which you'll need for tomorrow."

  "Thanks," she said, and Mitch left her tent. She changed into her new clothes, then relaxed onto the cot, even managing to nap.

  When it was early evening she was awake and ready, when Boone finally came to her tent. ”Time to eat," he said, and led her to the mess tent, where all the men gathered for a dinner, of MREs.

  Boone explained, "MRE is the military acronym, for Meal, Ready-to-Eat."

  "Hmmm...." She replied, "...interesting.”

  When the meal was over, they all congregated in the the largest tent, with the rest of the men, as Boone elucidated the plan, which he and Riley devised earlier that day. She took a seat in the back.

  Boone reviewed the three parts of the plan, "Delta Team One—ambush their leader, Delta Team Two— guard the compound perimeter, and Delta Team Three—attack the compound. Alpha Team One, we’ll stand down until I can confirm the capture of the Russian leader, Zolotov, at which time I will notify and give Riley the go-ahead, to attack the Russian camp. We plan to surprise, disarm and capture or kill them—if necessary. Our Alpha team must not be prevented, from retrieving the suitcase bomb."

  There was murmured approval, and the nodding of heads, as Boone continued. "I'm heading Alpha Team. Our mission is to retrieve the deadly package from the bomb site, and fly it out by helicopter, to a top-secret location.”

  He has charisma and command over the men, Paisley thought, as she listened to him speak. Sitting towards the back of the assemblage, she was sobered by his speech. His normally placid face seemed to
transform into a more angular, tight-lipped visage. His voice exhibited a lower, gruffer tone matching the intensity in his eyes, and the gravity of his message.

  She could hardly believe this was the same man, with whom she had investigated a murder in a fast food restaurant a mere week ago! She was riveted to every word he spoke. His leadership abilities made him seem taller than his six feet, and more muscular in the short-sleeved, navy blue T-shirt, and khaki-tan cargo pants. With his sidearm in the holster attached to his belt, it did make him look sort of like a super hero!

  It seems like ages have passed since Boone and I teamed up. Who knew the investigation would escalate, and morph, into this dangerous course of events. It’s as if I’m in an action-adventure movie, she thought. Here I am, sitting in a camp, dressed in camouflage gear, with a group of men divided into covert teams—it’s ludicrous! I haven’t had time yet, to process the week's capture and escape from the men, who tried to kill us—it all seems like a bad dream! Her attention drifted back to Boone, who was still discussing the plans.

  "Mitch will stay here at camp in the communications tent. He'll be in contact with me and Delta Team, and will relay any updates, or changes. The following men will ride up to the site, which we'll call ground zero, in the morning," and he called their names.

  "Alpha Team Three, oversees transportation of equipment to the location, and will set up the tactical equipment at the zero site, tomorrow.”

  The men murmured among themselves again, then Commander Walters, stood up, consulted his notes, and addressing the group, said, "The men on Alpha Team One, who will be entering the old mine pit with Boone, once it's penetrated, are: Smith, Porter, Max, Torres, Sonny, Rod, Manny, and our nuclear physicists. They are Dr. Akio Moto and Dr. Bruno Steinhoff, and their two assistants, Dr. Kent Rollins and Dr. Sanjay Kapoor."

  An enthusiastic round of applause, ensued. Boone held up his hands, signifying quiet, and asked if there were any questions. There were none. He pointed out the information packets, on the table at the back of the tent, and the group craned their necks to look at the large table, laden with stacks of folders.

  "Each man must take one, because they contain a detailed copy of the plan, along with maps and a list of gear to pack." The men began to stand, when Boone again put up his hands for quiet, and the men settled back into their seats. "Before we adjourn, our physicists have equipment to pass out to those who'll be working with the heavy equipment needed to penetrate the cave and tunnel excavation, including those who will approach the suitcase bomb.”

  While the men assigned to bomb retrieval assistance, conferred with the physicists, the rest were encouraged to retrieve their folders, grab some coffee and relax for a moment. Boone ambled over to the table containing the coffee urn, and poured a cup for himself, then sipping his coffee, observed the men kibitzing, as the physicists, in the back of the tent, assembled the equipment to pass out, to the designated men.

  CHAPTER 37

  The physicists Boone chose, were the best in the country. Dr. Akio Moto, was lead nuclear physicist, in the National Nuclear Security Administration (NNSA), sub-department: The Office of Defense Nuclear Nonproliferation (DNN). He attended the University of Michigan, in Ann Arbor, graduating magna cum laude, with a PhD in physics, and received a doctorate in Nuclear Engineering.

  Presently, his work concerns detecting and securing nuclear material, which may, or may not, be connected to proliferation of WMDs. He also, manages terrorism incidents on a worldwide basis, which requires securing dangerous nuclear material, thus making him the perfect fit, for Boone's team.

  Dr. Moto's assistant, Dr. Bruno Steinhoff, was born and raised in Bonn, Germany, and aspired to be a physicist. He moved to the US, received his PhD in Nuclear Engineering, and a doctorate in Nuclear Medicine, at Stanford University, in California. Dr. Steinhoff also worked, at the DNN. He dealt with the study of how the body reacts to radiation, along with methods used to properly handle and dispose of radioactive material, until he was assigned, along with Dr. Moto, to Boone's team.

  “Good evening,” Dr. Moto said, as he introduced himself and Dr. Steinhoff, to the group, “follow me," and he led several of the groups to the back of the tent where he passed out a piece of equipment, called a dosimeter, to each man. He explained, "It's a device to be worn on the belt to measure radiation exposure."

  "These devices," Dr. Steinhoff told the group, "are called thermo-luminescent dosimeters [TLDs], and are made of translucent polyurethane. They're used, to record the accumulated exposure to radiation, in millirems [mRs]. The TLDs are rectangular objects, approximately the size of a small deck of cards, and thus won't impede you movements, while you work."

  Dr. Moto continued with more information. "When the mission is complete, you'll turn in the TLDs, to an onsite lab back at base camp, which is equipped to read the accumulated exposure levels. At the site, where you'll be working, it's possible that gamma rays or other forms of radiation ‘could’ be present, with gamma rays being the most dangerous kind associated, with nuclear material."

  Dr. Steinhoff, also passed out self-indicating pocket dosimeters (SIPDs), which were in the shape of a shortened writing pen, to be carried in the pocket. "This dosimeter," Dr. Steinhoff said, "will provide each man with an immediate reading of the exposure level, due to possible gamma rays."

  The men listened intently as each Doctor took turns, instructing the men on the use of dosimeters, and gave them information on other dangers they might encounter, during this mission. In conclusion, Dr. Steinhoff produced one last piece of equipment called a Radiac.

  He explained how the Radiac, was a handheld, about the size of half a medium shoe box with a grip on top to be used, in a sweep-as-you-go manner, to monitor the entrance into the unknown area and check for alpha rays, and beta and gamma radiation. Both physicists declared the goal of the mission was to get in and out, as quickly as possible, with the least amount of exposure, to radiation.

  When Drs. Moto and Steinhoff finished briefing the team, Boone clapped his hands together and called the men to rejoin the rest, then said, "I don't want to adjourn you before I introduce a new face to the group."

  The men sauntered back to their chairs. Boone began, “Mitch has met her already, and I'm sure you've all wondered who she is, and why she's here. Ms. Ingles? Will you please stand for a moment? This is Ms. Paisley Ingles," he said, and motioned her to stand, which she did…hesitantly.

  Her cheeks were flushed, as Boone continued, "She's a detective, and a Forensic Computer Specialist, and we worked together on a recent murder investigation. Her discoveries resulted in endangering her life, and subsequently mine, then led both of us down a path to the discovery of the Russian Mafia plot, to retrieve the suitcase bomb, which had been buried over forty years ago.”

  Standing, with all eyes on her, it made her uncomfortable, and she felt very small. But Boone didn't stop, "Without her help and ability to decrypt the Russian messages, we would not be running this operation, right now!" The men stood up, and gave her a polite round of applause. "She’s also going to accompany us tomorrow!" he added. “Okay, the meeting’s over. Take your folders, prep for tomorrow, and plan on rising early."

  The men all drifted off to their assigned tents for the evening, to a background of excited chatter, giving Boone the opportunity to approach Ingles and present her with a folder as well. She was still standing, with a stunned look on her face.

  “Is everything okay?"

  "I'm still in a state of disbelief at the accolades you bestowed on me,” she said.

  Amused by her reaction, he patted her on the shoulder adding, "I meant what I said."

  That broke the spell, and she began to say something, but he put a finger on her lips and said, "We rise early tomorrow, so let me walk you to your tent. You can read over the information in your folder so you'll know what your part is, for tomorrow. I’ll make sure you're up in the morning, so meanwhile, please get some much needed sleep."

  She look
ed at him gratefully and did exactly as he said. Bone tired, after reading through her folder, she crawled into the camo sleeping bag, arranged her head on the pillow provided, and far from being revved up from coffee and the meeting, she was asleep before she could conjure up any more thoughts.

  Instead of retiring immediately, Boone held another short meeting, with Drs. Moto and Steinhoff, and their assistants. They conferred for the last time, concerning the methods of extraction to be used to insure the safety of everyone, during the delicate extraction operation. When the meeting ended, Boone rose wearily, and shook their hands, declaring it time to retire. The men hustled through the silent camp to their own accommodations. However, Boone sat up for another hour, pouring over papers, maps and stats. Later, flashlight in hand, he headed for his own tent.

  The silence in the camp was palpable, and he gazed up, noting the crescent moon, as it slid up and over the sentry-like trees, then passed through some dark wispy clouds, creating an etherial tableau. Boone stopped and gave the moon one more glance, before stealthily entering his tent, and crawling into his sleeping bag. He doused his flashlight. Exhausted, he drifted off to sleep, to the sound of owls, hooting in the silence of the night, with no one else—as far as he knew—awake and listening, to their incessant questions.

  Monday, May 22, 2017 Before the sun made its appearance, Boone and his men were up, and prepared for the move to the target location. Paisley dressed and was ready to go, when Boone pulled back her tent flap and beckoned her to follow him, as he headed towards the mess tent.

  "Ms. Ingles, I need to talk to you about today, but first, we'll have breakfast.”

  "More MREs?"

  He turned to her and replied "No, real food. Instant oatmeal, toast, juice and coffee."

  She laughed. "Works for me!" Breakfast didn't last long, because there were many things to do before leaving. Boone spoke to a few of the men, then approached her, when she finished her meal, and invited her to follow him to a corner of the tent, where they could speak privately.