Zone of Action (In the Zone)

by Cathy Skendrovich

  Scrolling past threads that bitched about big government or calls for citizens to form vigilante justice leagues, she did a double take on the second conversation before moving on. Turned out the members of that forum were talkers, not doers. Armchair protesters. Law enforcement regularly trolled these waters anyway, but they weren’t searching for what she was.

  She almost missed the thread. Sandwiched between a “home security shopping” conversation, a euphemism for illegal gun sales, and a child photography—which was just a nice way of saying pornography—distributor, she nearly passed by the thread simply labeled “Vets.” She’d assumed it was a site of disturbing pet images. A lot of nastiness lived on the Deep Web. But something struck her as odd, and she clicked on it.

  Of course, she had to sign in. Zack had provided them with several of his DW alternate identities, plus a site key, so she chose one, and bam! She was in. It definitely wasn’t pictures of animals. Her heartbeat quickened as she scanned the participants and their comments. Holy hell. She’d dropped into a full-blown recruitment conversation, with more positive responses from around the globe than she’d thought possible. It looked like the GUWP was actively searching for recruits to convert. It was unsettling to read how many people were easily duped into terrorist cells. Or maybe not duped.

  It was even more frightening to contemplate that many people were easily swayed to rise against their own country without checking the facts. All around the world, responders were queueing up for a chance to dispel the perceived threat of fascism. She focused on the comments targeting the United States.

  Most of these people were probably basement dwellers who loved to bitch, but even one active convert was one too many. It only took a single person with a match to set something evil on fire. She wasn’t interested in the individual letting off steam because he didn’t vote and now disliked the outcome. She wanted the inquisitive ones, the ones who requested more information. Usually they were college-age individuals testing the waters of their newfound freedom. Freedom that they were unwittingly giving up by joining the GUWP.

  Leaning back in the chair to roll her shoulders, she glanced at Cam. He’d listed to the left more, almost prone on the couch, but he was still out cold. The fire was down to glowing embers. She thought she heard the patter of rain on the roof but wasn’t sure. Zack’s home was a well-built fortress. She thought about him. He came off tough and brusque and rough around the edges, yet the shadows in his gaze told another story. She wondered if they had anything to do with his former military career, maybe the ex-wife, and then shoved the thoughts aside.

  It was getting late, and her eyes were burning, but she had to go on. Their host wouldn’t want them hopping on and off the DW like it was a merry-go-round. She had to finish what she’d started.

  She spent another half hour dipping into each and every thread, looking for clues to something, anything, related to killing soldiers. She was reluctant to go into chat rooms. She used to have a persona, but that was a long time ago. Getting trapped by a wrong word or phrase would shut a chat room down and warn the users that something was off, and that wasn’t what she wanted. She had to be content with the sidelines for now.

  The thread she was interested in was how to combat fascism and extreme nationalism. Reports of the rise in white supremacy, including sickening firsthand descriptions, populated the thread. She understood the significance of quelling such activities, but not to the point where you overthrow a government. And that was what she was reading. People outraged, perhaps unhinged enough, to entertain the suggestion of taking over the government. And the GUWP was tapping into that outrage. Audrey’s stomach rolled. Sounded a lot like the Third Reich from where she was sitting. And she was reading it right now.

  She’d never thought they’d organize and mobilize this quickly. She and the rest of the counter-terrorism unit had discounted them as viable current threats, but here was the proof. It looked like the joke was on them.

  The GUWP did not want to wait for brainwashing and manipulating governments, crises, and currency fluctuations. It wanted control of the country now. And it was actively recruiting members. She needed to know how they planned to do it and whether Brett had joined them.

  “How long have you been on that thing?”

  Audrey squealed, jumping out of the desk chair like a teenage girl in a horror flick. Cam stood beside her, rumpled and sexy and just a little grumpy. She took a few deep breaths to recapture her heartbeat.

  “You scared the shit out of me, Harris.” She couldn’t be angry at him, not with the way he looked. God was he appealing, even with the sleep-droopy eyes and nonregimental bed head. Dark stubble covered the lower half of his face. She fought the urge to run her hand over the whiskers and listen to the scratchy sound, which had always been sexy-as-hell to her. She fisted her hands and plopped back in the desk chair.

  “I’ve hit the jackpot, Cam. Have a seat.”

  …

  As Cam sat in the chair beside Audrey, he registered the time in the bottom right corner of the monitor. Two thirty in the morning? Was she shitting him? He’d been asleep for two hours, and she’d been doing research? He had to be getting too old for this gig. The thought soured his stomach and heightened his already grouchy mood.

  “We need to take a look around the perimeter. Switch to cameras.” His words came out harsh even to his ears. She narrowed a gaze on him that could cut diamonds. Okay, so she was going to call him on his tone of voice. But it was O’Dark Thirty. He was allowed to be testy.

  “I don’t want to lose my connection here by switching over. We’ll do it after this. I found a thread that’s got possibilities. Look. People from all around the country are discussing how the GUWP will bring back the status quo in America if they can get enough recruits to join their ranks.”

  “Show me.” He sat forward, wide awake now. The lines she pointed to on the screen definitely sounded like a global uprising. “Scroll down,” he ordered, eager to scan more. He bit his lip and forced his foot to stop tapping. He knew he’d been right to come to Audrey.

  While any computer nerd could look these threads up on the DW, she was the only one who could draw a connection between Brett and one of the participating groups. She understood him, and who he would be willing to work for, or with. Cam sucked in an unsteady breath. They were finally making progress.

  A long silence stretched out while they read. Over and over they read seductive requests for people to take up the cause of the GUWP, the true democracy that wouldn’t treat anyone as a second-class citizen. Only by joining with the GUWP could Americans have any hope of returning the country to a less divided state. It was a call to arms, feeding off people who were unsatisfied with the direction the country was going. He swallowed bile at the thought that the people answering this thread were looking for a quick fix and were being taking advantage of by a terrorist group that was infiltrating the country through its people. It hadn’t seemed possible. Until now.

  “Here.”

  He followed her index finger where she indicated on the screen. The thread was a call-to-disrupt post, with responders proving their allegiance to the GUWP in various manners, all dealing with the military. It was painful to realize just how often the military was blamed for being against people, because it upheld laws similar to law enforcement.

  One person had closed down a military recruitment booth at a local college by heckling them incessantly. Another was a group response regarding the blockage of a military parade in their town. The list of attacks, small and not-so-small, went on and on. Cam forced himself to read further. This was some seriously bad shit they were unearthing.

  The commenter Audrey singled out was named “Guardian Angel.” While all the other attacks were listed openly, without names or locations, this response was a damned convoluted nursery rhyme. “The wolf huffed, and he puffed and blew all four pigs down. Mission accomplished.”

>   “That’s him.”

  Cam frowned at her. “How do you get Brett out of that gibberish?” He really wanted to know. It could just as easily be some backwoods hick who shined his gun every day while swilling rotgut and using dial up.

  “Four pigs? The four soldiers?” He must have made some face, because she added, “Okay, it’s a hunch I have. Brett chose to be cryptic because our guys are always surfing this web and he didn’t want to be identified. Or else he just wanted to be dramatic. He always had a flair for that. This thread must be the GUWP’s communication highway, where members can share their work and encourage each other.”

  “Sick bastards. So, Brett sells troop info as an act of good faith and, when he gets caught, he orchestrates the killing of those four young soldiers on post for… Why? What does it accomplish?”

  “I’ve told you before: the GUWP wants to cause mayhem, and it looks like it’s targeting our military. These terrorist attacks undermine morale and objectives. It’s up to us to figure out how far they’ll go, and stopping Brett is a good first step.”

  She heaved a breath and stared at the screen. Her brows were lowered, and her bottom lip caught between her teeth. “This is disgusting,” she blurted, startling him. “It’s exactly why I quit and became a florist. Everyone hates us and everything we stand for, and they don’t even know us! They want us destroyed for their own agenda.”

  Her green eyes glittered. Were those tears in her eyes again? This was a woman who felt too much. Her strength of emotion floored him. Under that thin veneer of resilience hid a bleeding heart. Interesting.

  A lot of soldiers couldn’t get past the death and destruction they witnessed. Not everyone could compartmentalize their emotions. Look at Brett. Jimenez’s death had changed them all, maybe him most of all. And then there was Audrey, turning in her ex-boyfriend. She truly cared for the country she’d served, and even more for the people she protected, and when she couldn’t, maybe that tipped the scales for her to resign. It was possible.

  When one crystalline teardrop escaped her eye, trembling on the edge of her lashes, he reached out without thinking and dabbed it away with a gentle fingertip. Her gaze dropped immediately, cheeks pinkening. His chest expanded as he studied her downturned head. He couldn’t watch her cry.

  He put a forefinger under her chin, lifting her face to meet his eyes. More tears hovered, ready to overflow. Leaning forward, he touched his lips to first one eye, and then the other. Gentle kisses that he had no idea he possessed. He sure as hell had never given sympathetic caresses before. Those didn’t lead to physical release. Yet now he wanted to ease her agitation, comfort her distress. The physical attraction between them was still there. Hell, yeah, it was. But it took a backseat to the urge to comfort her.

  “Wh-what are you doing?” Her voice was squeaky. He’d taken her by surprise. He gazed down into her puzzled expression.

  “You’re upset over what we’ve read. I don’t like seeing you troubled. You’re supposed to be fearless.” His whispered words brought a smile to her lips, just as he’d hoped.

  “Even Wonder Woman gets an off day.”

  That made him laugh. “You got me on that one.”

  It was understandable that she would be affected by the online animosity she’d read. She’d been out of the service long enough to have lost her thick skin toward anti-military, anti-everything believers. He understood that enforcers of all types faced opposition. That was part of a free-thinking democracy: the ability to have differing opinions. And with that freedom came the extremist philosophies. Most of the time they were harmless. A small percentage weren’t. That’s what they were working with here. The small group that wanted to cause maximum chaos in order to be recognized by the larger group. It was up to them to quell the intended attack, wherever, whenever it was.

  “I appreciate your attempt at reassuring me, Cam. Really, I do. A part of me wishes I could help more.”

  “You can. We still need to find out if anything is being planned. Why your place was broken into. There’s so much more.”

  She jumped from her chair, sending it toppling. “That’s the point. It’s not my job anymore. I opted out of the world-saving business. I needed to save myself. This is your life, your job. I’ve already had my home invaded, my shop burned down, and my livelihood threatened.

  “I gave my years to my country. I’m all out of help. I couldn’t help innocent children when I was in uniform, and I can’t save the world from terrorists now. I learned that lesson. Go find someone else. I’ve lost my bloodthirstiness.” She turned away, the tears he’d spied earlier spilling down her cheeks. Bloodthirsty, my ass.

  He couldn’t let her run off in pain. He’d been drawn to Audrey from the first moment he’d set eyes on her. While he admitted that attraction had been insta-lust, as he’d gotten to know her, he’d uncovered more layers to her that fascinated him beyond the shape of her breasts and ass.

  Like the fact that she could be kick-ass tough yet create the most beautiful floral arrangements and cook out-of-this-world food. She was a conundrum of opposites, and that attracted him more than her killer body. Well, almost.

  Besides, there was the fact she’d just let slip something about innocent children. When had that happened? She’d served in the Sandbox. That was the likeliest place. Whatever had happened obviously pained her. Had that been the catalyst for terminating her Army career? He wanted to know, needed to hear the story. It would help him understand her so much better. He wouldn’t scrutinize why he needed to understand her, though. That required digging into his own feelings, and he wasn’t ready to do that yet.

  He was on her heels in a second, hooking his hand around her elbow, swinging her to face him. Her eyes flashed, tear tracks shining on her cheeks in the lamplight.

  “Wait a minute, Audrey. Wait a damn minute.”

  She gave a token jerk on her arm, but his clasp held firm. He wasn’t going to let go. Clearing the air was a necessity. Why? Hell if he knew. He couldn’t let her go back to her room without telling her…

  Telling her what? That he’d been in her place before and managed to crawl out? That, no matter how screwed up you thought you were, it was never as bad as you imagined? Platitudes. That’s all those sentiments were. Empty platitudes that couldn’t dig a soldier out of the emotional foxhole he’d dug himself into. Or, in her case, she’d dug herself into.

  “If you don’t want to help anymore, that’s fine. You’ve done more than enough already. We’ve got a lead on Brett’s plans and who he’s working with. I can manage the rest.”

  She didn’t meet his eyes, continuing to stare at the center of his chest. She held her body stiffly. Unyielding. He ventured another question, hoping to break through the wall she put around her emotions.

  “What did you mean, you couldn’t help innocent children?”

  Her watery eyes rose to meet his, surprise shimmering in their depths. She stared at him for long seconds, until he thought she’d ignore the question. At last she dropped her gaze and whispered, “It was in Kandahar.”

  He remembered the mention of Kandahar in her file. He racked his brain, but of course the information he’d read eluded him. “Tell me what happened.”

  She took a deep breath, the shudder transferring from her body to his. He took hold of her hands in his. They felt cold to the touch.

  “Part of my job in Kandahar was to try and turn terrorist recruits. I learned who they were and worked on them. I was good at my job. Until I worked with Sayed.”

  What came next was heartbreaking.

  “I’d been working on Sayed for a while. I really thought I was getting through to him that joining ranks with terrorists wasn’t good for the country he loved, for the people he cared for. I said all the right things, he said all the right things. I was sure I’d turned him from becoming another shadow killer.

  “I was on patrol one aft
ernoon. We’d pulled up beside a bus full of women and kids, with more kids running around our Humvee, shouting for gum or candy.” She smiled, even as the tears continued to leak from her eyes. His heart cracked.

  She licked her lips, glancing away from him. Her fingernails were digging into his palms, but he absorbed the discomfort. After a few long seconds, she continued, her voice so low he had to lean his head closer to hear her speak.

  “I looked into the bus—it was full of people—and saw Sayed standing in the middle of it, holding something.”

  “Shit.” He knew what was coming, what the bastard was holding, but he waited for her to tell him.

  “Shit is right. He looked over at me, shrugged his shoulders, and detonated his handheld device, blowing up himself, the bus, and the kids. All those screams. The blood. The noise. All of that because I made the arrogant assumption that I’d turned a recruit around. I should have detained him. Because I couldn’t believe I’d ever misjudge someone, innocent people were killed. After that, I couldn’t trust my instincts anymore, so when my time was up, I left.

  “And then I made the mistake of falling for Brett, and the whole fiasco has happened again. I’m a lousy judge of character. You’d do yourself a favor and not listen to any of my suggestions.”

  Her voice rose at the end of her sentence. She was at the breaking point, so he pulled her against him, cradled the back of her head in one palm, and shushed her, swaying back and forth. This was the crux of her distress. Because she’d misjudged the recruit, and Brett, she couldn’t trust her judgment? That was a hell no, in his opinion, but it wouldn’t matter right now.

  Her body shook. He tightened his arms around her, absorbing her pain. Warm tears trickled into the collar of his shirt as she let go of everything she had been holding in for years. Audrey didn’t strike him as a crier. For her to break down in front of him was huge. Perhaps she trusted him, just a little?

  “You can’t control other people’s choices, Audrey. You can make an educated guess, but what they do is ultimately their decision. It’s out of your hands. You have no guilt here. Let it out. Let it all out.” He closed his eyes, propped his chin on top of her head while her body trembled against him. She was soft, pliant in his arms, and the longer he held her chest to chest, hip to hip, the more he became aware of her. The scent of wildflowers on a summer breeze tickled his nose. The way she silently cried, as if she was ashamed for her outburst. He pulled her closer, risked a tiny kiss in her hair, and promised himself that was all he would do. He wasn’t the type to take advantage of a woman in crisis, even if she felt like heaven in his arms.