Blacksnow Zero

by Lee Gimenez

  His breath ragged, he nodded vigorously. Then she began to rub her hands slowly over her own luscious body, which was now covered with a light sheen of perspiration. The teasing excited him even more and he groaned with anticipation. It was clear from the expression on her face that she was enjoying this as much as he was.

  “The best is yet to come,” she said, as she moved towards him.

  Kneeling in front of him once again, she lowered her head and took him in her mouth, very slowly, until his whole shaft disappeared. After holding him tight there for almost a minute, she glanced up at him, her stunning eyes bright with lust. The beautiful moment lasted for another minute until his loins screamed for release and he exploded in her mouth, the sexual sensation more powerful than any he’d had before.

  ***

  Atlanta, Georgia

  The first thing Erica Blake noticed when she walked into the motel room was the moldy smell. The stench hung in the air of the small, scruffy place. Going to the A/C, an antiquated wall unit, she pressed the on-button but nothing happened. Shaking her head slowly, she went to the window and cranked it open. The incoming breeze was hot but fresh, and she knew it was the only way to air out the place. She had paid cash for the room, so the last thing she wanted to do was complain. Most of the guests at this dump, she guessed, rented rooms by the hour. Complaints would be a red-flag to the day-manager, who probably had 911 on speed-dial. He was used to loud hookers and heroin addicts, not patrons who cared about cleanliness and air-conditioned comfort.

  After a quick look out the window, all she saw was outside was a littered, almost empty parking lot. A few clunkers showing lots of rust were parked haphazardly. But seeing nothing else, she pulled the blinds closed.

  Going into the grungy bathroom, she washed her face and hands with the tepid water. Then, still fully clothed, she went to the bed and lay down on the lumpy mattress. The springs were loud as she tossed on the bed, trying to find a comfortable spot. She was dead tired from her long bus ride and was asleep in minutes.

  She woke with a start three hours later, staring at the cracks in the ceiling. Her muscles were stiff so she stretched out on the bed, trying to get the kinks out. As she lay there, her thoughts raced through her options. On the plus side, she was no longer in D.C. She had successfully evaded the NSA goons. She had cash in her pocket, a gun, and a burner phone. On the debit side, the goons were still after her. She was no longer an FBI agent and the only people she trusted were Lewis and Steve.

  The image of Steve’s face crossed her mind and lingered. Maybe she’d made a mistake years ago when she’d asked for a divorce. She missed him and wished they were still together. A feeling of dread overcame her as she thought about the danger he was facing now. Then a car honked outside and she heard two men arguing in the parking lot. The harsh sounds brought her back to reality.

  Looking down at her clothes she realized she was still wearing the jeans and polo shirt from yesterday. Priority number one was to shower and buy fresh clothes.

  Her stomach rumbled. Besides three Snickers Bars and a Sprite, she’d had nothing to eat for over a day. That was her second priority.

  Climbing off the bed, she headed for the shower.

  An hour later Erica was sitting at the counter of a Denny’s off of Peachtree Street. The restaurant was half-full with mostly blue-collar workers and construction types.

  Wearing the cargo pants and a man’s short-sleeve shirt she had bought at a nearby Wal-Mart, she sipped coffee and glanced at the menu. She tugged at the bill of her baseball cap, pulling it lower to cover more of her face.

  Her waitress came over and refilled her cup. The black woman appeared to be in her mid-forties. She was short and pudgy, with sad, brown eyes. Her name tag read Sarah.

  “Ready to order?” the waitress asked with a heavy Southern accent.

  Erica looked up. “What’s good here, Sarah?”

  The woman chuckled. “It’s all good.”

  Erica rolled her eyes. “I bet. I’ll have the Grand Slam Special, with extra bacon. And put butter on the toast.”

  “Sure thing, hon.” Sarah wrote it down, moved away.

  Erica sipped coffee and idly scanned the newspaper she’d bought on the way in. The headlines were all about the crappy economy and the soaring unemployment in Atlanta. Below the fold was a story about an anti-Chinese demonstration that had taken place yesterday in downtown.

  Sarah brought over a large, steaming plate and set it down in front of her.

  Erica attacked the food, wolfing it down in minutes. She even ate the bland grits.

  “Somebody was hungry,” Sarah said as she refilled the coffee cup.

  Erica pushed aside the empty plate. “Hadn’t eaten in a while.”

  “You in from out-of-town?” the waitress asked.

  Erica tensed. “What makes you say that?”

  “Just making conversation, hon. I just know you’re not a regular here.”

  “That’s true.” She stared at the waitress. She seemed safe enough, and she decided to trust her instincts. “My name’s Erica. I’m staying at a dumpy motel now but I’m looking for a better place. Know of anything?”

  The woman grinned. “I own a duplex not far from here. It’s small, but clean. My son and I live in one side, and I rent out the other. But the redneck asshole who was renting it just split. I’m looking for a new tenant.”

  “How much?”

  Sarah told her.

  “I’ll take it for a week. Maybe longer.”

  Sarah gave her a perplexed look. “But you haven’t even seen it yet.”

  Erica smiled. “Your uniform is clean, your shoes are shined and your hair is neatly combed. Somebody that takes care of the way they look is bound to have a place better than the dump I’m at now.”

  “You’re pretty smart,” Sarah said, chuckling, “for a white girl.” She held out her hand and the women shook. “I get off here at two this afternoon. I’ll give you the address and we can meet there then.”

  ***

  Erica turned up the A/C of the one-room apartment and cool air came out of the vent. It felt good. Then she checked out the bed, noticed the clean sheets. Lastly she ran the tap in the worn but spotless bathroom and flushed the toilet. It all worked and she walked back to the room.

  “Looks good, Sarah,” she told the other woman.

  Sarah cocked her head. “I’m sorry, but I’ll need cash, up-front. The last guy stiffed me for a week’s rent. I won’t make that mistake again.”

  “I understand.” She dug the money out of the front pocket of the cargo pants and gave it to her.

  “Thank you kindly,” Sarah said. “And like I said before, my son Dwayne sometimes runs the TV too loud. Just bang on the wall and I’ll see he turns it down.”

  “Sure.”

  “By the way, Erica, where’s your stuff? Don’t you have any luggage?”

  “Nope. I’m traveling light.”

  “I guess so. Well, if you need anything, just holler.”

  The woman left and Erica locked the door and turned on the small TV, set the volume on low. Then she pulled out her cell phone and punched in a number. Senator Lewis’s recorded voice came on the line and Erica hung up. She wasn’t about to trust voice-mail.

  ***

  NSA Rendition Center

  Aberdeen, Maryland

  Steve McCord sat on the cold floor of the jail cell, with his back against the wall. The 8’ x 8’ cell was a concrete bunker. Besides the solid steel door at one end and a dim light bulb hanging from the ceiling, there was nothing else.

  The excruciating pain in his mouth was blinding and he rubbed his temples, trying to push away the throbbing. They had torn out all of his teeth, yanking them out one-by-one, until finally, after blacking out and being revived several times, he had broken down and told them what they wanted to know.

  He coughed and more bright red blood seeped out of his mouth. The prison jumpsuit he wore was already covered with it. He wiped his mo
uth with one hand and rubbed off the sticky red substance on his pants leg.

  But what hurt more than his ragged, bleeding gums was the fact he had given her up. He would never forgive himself for betraying Erica.

  Coughing again, more blood spewed down his chest.

  Just then he heard clanging and glanced up to see the door creak open. Two men in black uniforms holding stubby rifles came into the room, followed by a third man he recognized immediately. It was NSA agent Logan. Steve cringed, pressed his body against the wall.

  “You don’t look so good, my friend,” Logan stated with a sneer. He squatted down and looked at Steve at eye-level. “You’ve lost a lot of blood – you may not make it.”

  “Damn you!” Steve yelled, as more blood seeped from his mouth.

  “Still feisty, huh? We’ll see how you feel by tomorrow. We’re taking you on a little trip.”

  Logan stood up and turned to one of the guards. “Load him into the jet. Be careful with the blood. You don’t want to mess up your uniforms.” Then he left the cell.

  ***

  Hart Senate Office Building

  Adjacent to the U.S. Capitol

  Washington, D.C.

  Senator Megan Lewis was scared. She paced her office, her thoughts racing. Her close friend, Secretary of State Audrey Cruz, had gone missing. It had been over a day and no one knew where she was. The FBI and D.C. police had been called in, but so far there were no clues to her whereabouts. Megan knew the woman well. Intimately well. She knew Cruz would never leave without telling her staff her plans. Cruz wasn’t wired that way.

  Megan had a sick feeling about the whole thing. She had spoken personally to the lead FBI agent on the case and felt they were doing everything to find her. The senator had also tapped all of own her sources in Washington. But the disappearance was an enigma.

  Luckily, the press hadn’t gotten hold of the story yet, otherwise D.C. would turn into a circus. Better that the FBI keep looking for her, at least for another couple of days. But if that didn’t work, she’d go to the press herself. Maybe some citizen, somewhere, would spot her.

  Lewis stopped pacing and sat behind her desk. She took a sip of her now cold coffee as she processed all that had happened. Senator Carpenter’s death. The President’s assassination. Admiral Stanton. McCord being arrested. Now this. Was Cruz’s disappearance part of it too? A chill went down her spine. Jesus. What the hell’s happening? None of it made sense. Then a new thought flashed in her mind. She had made a lot of inquiries about these events. True, she had only asked her trusted sources. But what if somebody was tracking her? What if she herself was in danger? She knew she was a powerful senator, a key powerbroker in Washington circles. But someone had killed the president. I could be next.

  Just then the intercom on her desk buzzed and she heard Lisa’s voice. “Senator, the Colonel is here to see you.”

  “Show him in, Lisa.”

  Megan stood up and buttoned the jacket of her Versace black suit. Then she went around the desk, just as her door opened and the tall, slender man came in the office. Unlike his past visits, the colonel was wearing civilian clothes – a white, button-down shirt and gray slacks. Before, he had always worn his blue Air Force uniform. Lisa left the room and closed the door behind her.

  “Jack, it’s good to see you again,” Megan said, offering her hand. Colonel Jack Norton was one her most trusted sources of information.

  The man gave her a brief smile and they shook. “Good to see you also, Senator.”

  “Have a seat,” Megan said as she motioned to one of the deeply upholstered wingback chairs in front of her desk. She sat on the other one.

  “Thank you, Senator.”

  She chuckled. “What’s with the civvies? Can’t say I remember seeing you in that before.”

  “In light of what’s going on,” Norton replied. “I thought it best to have a lower profile.”

  She nodded, turned serious. “That sounds ominous. You told Lisa you had something important to talk about?”

  The man fidgeted in his seat, as if he were uncomfortable in the civilian clothes. “Yes, ma’am. I thought it was too sensitive to discuss over the phone.”

  Megan crossed her legs and leaned forward in her seat. “Now you’re scaring me. What the hell’s going on? Pardon my French.”

  His eyes nervously scanned the room. “Ma’am, I need to do something before we talk.”

  “What do you mean by that?”

  The colonel reached into his pants pocket and pulled out a silver colored device, the size and shape of a large pen. “Senator, I need to scan this room for electronic surveillance.”

  “Are you crazy, Jack? You think somebody’s bugging my office? I’m a U.S. senator, for Christ sakes.”

  “I’m sorry, ma’am. But after you hear what I have to say, you’ll understand.”

  She sighed and waved a hand in the air. “Go ahead, then.”

  Norton stood, turned on the device and slowly walked around the room, holding the pen-like instrument in front of him. After that, he picked up the phone on her desk and inspected it closely, even unscrewing the receiver caps to look inside. He put the device back in his pocket and sat back down. “It’s okay, ma’am. It’s safe to talk.”

  Megan nodded. “Okay, Jack. Enough bullshit. Let’s hear it.”

  The man lowered his voice. “What I’m about to tell you is absolutely confidential. I only learned of it by accident. And I still have to verify it with a couple of other sources, before we take any action. But I felt I had to come to you right away. My life and your life are at risk, if we don’t handle this right.”

  She sensed the urgency and gravity by the tone of his voice. The colonel was a veteran of two wars and a highly decorated fighter pilot. If he said it was a grave situation, she knew it was deadly serious.

  “Senator, have you ever heard of something called Operation BlackSnow?”

  She thought a moment, shook her head. “No. What the hell is it?”

  “As you know, one of my duties is supervising a team that handles the Air Force surveillance satellites. Recently, one of my NCOs picked up a coded transmission. It was encrypted, but my guy is sharp. Anyway, he spent time deciphering it then he passed the info on to me. It appears there is a pending military operation. An operation called BlackSnow.”

  “Who sent the transmission, Jack?”

  “It came from the Pentagon, somebody very high-up, from what I can tell.”

  “So, what is this operation?”

  “The Pentagon is planning a nuclear first strike.”

  Her jaw dropped. “A nuke attack? On who?”

  “I don’t know, Senator. The transmission wasn’t clear on that.”

  Megan leaned back in her seat. “I’m skeptical, Jack. This could all be some contingency plan. I’m sure the Pentagon runs simulations all the time. This could be some type of war game scenario.”

  The colonel shook his head. “That’s true. But this was too detailed. It mentioned specific submarines. It also referred to some type of countdown.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “It implied there was a countdown to when the attack would take place.”

  She leaned forward in the seat. “When?”

  “Ten days from now.”

  “Damn,” she muttered. She folded her arms in front of her, her thoughts racing. “I don’t know, Jack. I’m still thinking it could be a war game.”

  “I have more, Senator.”

  “Go ahead.”

  “When I found out about this, I started working my sources at the Pentagon. I’ve been there five years and I know a lot of people.”

  “You do. You’ve given me very useful intel in the past.”

  “Thank you, Senator. Anyway, after checking my sources, I found one who had overheard a conversation recently. Two senior officers, a four-star general and an admiral were heard talking about an operation called BlackSnow. And it didn’t sound like a war game. It sounded real.”


  “If it is true, and the military is planning something like this, the Joint Chiefs of Staff would be involved. And President Taylor would have to approve it.”

  The man nodded. “That’s why we have to be careful how we handle this information. We have to be absolutely certain it’s true.”

  “I agree. You said you were double-checking other sources?”

  “Yes, ma’am. I have my team scouring the transmission logs for any other references to BlackSnow. If there’s more, we’ll find it.”

  “How long will that take?”

  “A day, maybe two.”

  “Good. When you have that I’ll go to the Senate Majority Leader and the President. Confront them with this. A nuclear war is unthinkable, no matter what the motivation.”

  “Yes, ma’am. One other thing. Watch your back. A lot has happened in Washington recently. It may all be connected.”

  She nodded, stood up and extended her hand. “Thank you for bringing this to me, Jack. You won’t regret it.”

  He stood and they shook. “I’ll call you as soon as I have more, Senator.”

  The colonel left the office and closed the door behind him.

  Megan went back to her desk and sat down. She mulled the situation for a few minutes, then made a quick decision. Pressing on the intercom, she said, “Lisa, please come in.”

  The young aide entered and Lewis waved her to one of the chairs.

  “Lisa,” she began, picking her words carefully. “As you know, some very disturbing things have taken place in this town lately. The colonel has just shared additional information that is even more alarming. I won’t tell you what we discussed until he gets further confirmation, but let’s just say it’s frightening. And in light of Audrey Cruz’s disappearance, I’ve decided to hire a security detail for my own protection.”

  Lisa’s eyes went wide. “You think you need bodyguards?”

  “I do. I want you to retain a private security force to protect me. Two bodyguards at all times should be enough.”

  The aide nodded. “When do you want them to start?”

  “Immediately.”

  9 Days to Zero Hour