Op File Treason

by J. Clifton Slater

  At a point beyond the corner of the lodge, the gunman broke from the shoreline and ran for the guest parking lot. He jumped into the back seat of an SUV. The vehicle’s driver stood by the open door. Highlighted by the interior light spilling from the SUV, Diosa got a good look at him.

  Jordy Katrijn’s bodyguard waited until another man jumped into the passenger side before he climbed in and the vehicle drove away.

  With the area cleared of hostiles, Diosa sprinted to the other side of the burning lodge. There she located the ancient work truck. Spencer had explained that no one would steal the relic so he left the keys in the ignition. It spooled up on the second try and she drove around to the woodshed. Jumping out, she ran into the shed and located the door to the tunnel.

  ***

  “Hang on Mr. Tygo,” said Diosa as she vented the engine trying to urge more speed from the old truck.

  They had reached the river valley road after a bumpy ride and turned east. Now with only a couple of kilometers to go before the small town, she worried Spencer wouldn’t make it another fifteen until they arrived at the medical clinic. In the cab of the truck, the injured man seemed paler and his breathing shallower. A sign came up and Diosa jerked the wheels to the right, applied breaks, and the truck slid across a gravel parking lot.

  Jumping out, she ran to the front door and kicked it in. A noisy welcome greeted her. A silent alarm sounded somewhere, she was sure but that was fine. Grabbing two short handcarts, she wheeled them to the truck and helped Spencer out of the cab and onto the metal surfaces.

  Frantic barking accompanied Diosa and Spencer’s passage to the back of the veterinary hospital. After parking the handcarts next to a treatment table, Diosa sprinted down a hallway to an industrial refrigerator. On one of the shelves, she located bags of saline solution. With two bags in her hands, she raced back to the treatment area. After placing the saline solution in a microwave, Diosa grabbed a phone and dialed the emergency number. She requested an ambulance, gave the address which she read off a chart and hung up.

  As she checked on Spencer, two things happened. The microwave’s alarm went off and a young deputy sheriff rushed into the room with his gun drawn.

  “Stop right there. Hands up,” he ordered. “Step away from the table and lock your hands behind your head.”

  Diosa noted the pistol shaking from the young man’s adrenalin rush.

  “Please officer, he needs help,” she said softly while slowly raising her hands to shoulder level. “I’ve called for an ambulance but he needs immediate care.”

  “The Doc doesn’t keep narcotics on premise,” reported the deputy as if he hadn’t seen Spencer or heard a word Diosa said. “You people will never learn.”

  Suddenly, the front door down the hall slammed open and a woman’s voice called out, “Cliff. What is going on in my hospital? The dogs are having a fit and the front doorframe is splintered.”

  A woman in a tee shirt, jeans and boots stomped into the treatment room. When she spotted the deputy and the gun aimed at a woman covered in blood and Spencer Tygo on the carts, she ran a hand through her short-spiked hair and shook her head.

  “What happened?” She demanded.

  “I caught these two breaking into your hospital, Doctor Augenstein,” Cliff replied.

  “I wasn’t speaking to you. What happened?” the veterinarian repeated as she reached out, shoved the gun barrel towards the floor and pushed the deputy aside. “Put that thing away, Cliff. What happened?”

  “Yes ma’am,” the deputy said as he holstered the weapon.

  “Someone shot Spencer and fire bombed the lodge,” Diosa answered the intense woman. “I covered the chest wound but he was going into shock. I didn’t think he could make it to the medical clinic.”

  “And what were you going to do here?” inquired Doctor Augenstein as she checked Spencer’s pulse and lifted his eye lids.

  “Saline solution for the shock,” Diosa explained. “The bags are in the microwave.”

  “Are you a trained medical professional?” Doctor Augenstein asked as she strutted to the microwave. After checking the temperature of the saline bags, she shoved them back in the oven and hit the timer. “Apparently not.”

  “Marine Corps advanced field medical training, ma’am,” admitted Diosa.

  “So, you know just enough to kill him,” scolded Doctor Augenstein. “Cliff. There are more blankets near the kennels. Run and get me four. And you Marine, help me lift Spencer and get a blanket under him. Those exam tables are cold.”

  By the time the EMTs arrived with the ambulance, Spencer Tygo’s blood pressure was stable after a second bag of the saline solution. Diosa lied and told the deputy she had no idea who shot Spencer Tygo and set fire to the lodge.

  She accepted the offer of a clean set of scrubs from Doctor Augenstein and a ride to the bus depot. Once alone, retired Master Sergeant Alberich sat on a bench staring up the valley. It was too far to see the fire but her mind had a clear picture of it. She did attempt to send a message but was informed the civilian net used by her PID didn’t have the proper clearances to contact a specific person on Command Station. She needed to reach a communications hub in the city to complete the transmission.

  Chapter - 4 In or Out

  “I think he’ll be okay,” Diosa assured Corporal Tygo after a long conversation. “But the lodge will have burned to the ground by now.”

  “My father can rebuild as long as he’s alive,” the Corporal radioed back. “Thank you for calling me. How are you Master Sergeant?”

  “You were right about the mountain lake. It is the most beautiful place in the Galactic Council Realm,” Diosa replied avoiding the question. “I was wondering if you would do me a favor. After checking on your father, of course.”

  “Yes ma’am. What can I do for you?” asked Corporal Tygo.

  “I need to speak with Special Agent Eiko and my PID doesn’t have authorization,” Diosa explained. “If you would have him send me a time for a video conference, I’d appreciate it.”

  “We’re a little busy handling the aftermath of the assault on Construction Station, but I’ll find him,” the Corporal assured her. “I’ve got to run. Thank you again for the information and for my father.”

  “I’m just glad I was able to get him out,” responded Diosa.

  ***

  Three hours later as Diosa was finishing her French fries, the sandwich long since eaten, her civilian Personal Information Device buzzed. A swipe of the PID paid the bill. She left the diner, crossed the street and checked in at the communications hub.

  Although Diosa had been there several hours before, the system, again, required her fingerprints, and a retinal scan of her left eye. This time, the administrator remembered and didn’t demand an explanation why her right eye needed to remain covered.

  “Diosa Alberich, GCMC Retired, confirmed,” the hub center’s administrator announced. “You are cleared for a secured line. Proceed down the hall to the restricted area and use cubicle number ten.”

  “Thank you,” Diosa said as the double doors buzzed open.

  She strolled passed private rooms with the doors closed and followed the hallway around a bend. The reinforced door at the restricted area opened as she approached. At the big cube marked ten, she opened the door and entered the sound proofed compartment. All of this because civilian PIDs were kept off the military networks. If she had her Striker PID, she’d have instant communications with Command Station. Instead, she had cat videos, advertisements from lawyers who would fight everyone for her, and a never-ending array of adults suffering with teenage angst.

  Putting her feet up on the second chair, she leaned back and waited for the conference call. She had a half hour, nowhere to go and like Marines everywhere, she closed her eyes and took a nap.

  “Incoming call,” the system announced. “Incoming call.”

  Diosa sat up and flipped the accept switch. Eiko’s face appeared on the monitor and he bent his head to the side s
tudying her.

  “Miss Alberich. You are tanned and you seem rested,” the Special Agent for the GCIIA commented while leaning forward. “An odd choice of dress. Have you taken a job in the medical field? Changed from taking bodies apart to putting them back together?”

  “Special Agent Eiko, you are some kind of irritating,” Diosa replied. “This is a serious matter.”

  “I’m sorry Miss Alberich. Serious matters should be reported to the local authorities,” he scolded.

  “But, Jordy Katrijn is building an isolated and fortified compound,” she blurted out. “With a combat landing strip.”

  Eiko scratched his chin as if thinking about something before replying, “I don’t know who Jordy Katrijn is or anything about where he might be building such an exotic retreat. Again, civilians are encouraged to report suspicious activities to the local authorities. Why are we having this conversation?”

  “Because Jordy Katrijn has a military trained bodyguard who shot Spencer Tygo and, together with a team, burned the Tygo Family Lodge,” Diosa informed him. “To spell it out for you. He now has the entire upper reaches of a mountain valley to himself with no one to monitor the comings and goings.”

  “The bodyguard shot a man?” questioned the Special Agent. “Have you reported this to the authorities?”

  “And make it my word against a billionaires’ hired gun?” Diosa explained. “How much weight would a retired Master Sergeant’s eyewitness account carry against a team of high priced lawyers?”

  “Yes, I can see how that is a problem,” Eiko stated.

  “That’s how I saw it,” Diosa agreed.

  “No. The believability of your word wasn’t what I referred to,” explained Eiko. “It was the word retired. I’m sorry Miss Alberich, there is nothing I can do for a civilian.”

  He reached forward as if to end the transmission.

  Diosa held up a hand to stop him and inquired, “Suppose we change that?”

  “Miss Alberich. I have Op Files full of unanswered questions and suppositions,” Eiko said. “For my employer, the Galactic Council, you are either in all the way, or you are out. There is no suppose or middle ground.”

  Diosa closed her eyes and nodded.

  “I want in, Special Agent Eiko,” Diosa announced. “In all the way. What’s the next step?”

  “You should know, we have a thick file on Jordy Katrijn’s activities. However, not enough to act on it. His resorting to violence is a new twist. And, as you pointed out, he is a rich and powerful man,” admitted Eiko. “Unfortunately, he’s not a target yet. Your first step Warlock, is to get to the space port. There will be a ticket to Orbital Station waiting for you. Find Walden Geboren and don’t be too hard on him. He’s been on the beach for a while. He has a package for you.”

  “He has a package for me?” asked Diosa.

  “Welcome back Master Sergeant Alberich. We’ll talk more when you get to Orbital,” Eiko said as he broke the connection.

  “You are most assuredly irritating, Special Agent Eiko,” she said to the blank screen.

  Chapter – 5 Lesson Learned

  Warlock, still in the scrubs, took the lift to the guest quarters’ deck on Orbital Station. At door fifty-five, she knocked.

  “Come on in,” a lazy voice called from inside.

  She pushed open the door and sniffed the air. Stale body odor, old leftover food in containers and spilled beer assaulted her as she entered Walden Geboren’s room.

  “Baby. A naughty nurse. Daddy likes. Come over here and shake that sweet butt for me,” a slovenly dressed man leered from where he slumped in a chair. To add weight to his words, he licked his lips and winked.

  “Walden Geboren?” Warlock inquired with a smile.

  “The one and the same, sweetheart,” confirmed the disgusting man.

  “Good. I didn’t want to be in the wrong room,” Warlock assured him as she crossed the room and stood in front of Walden. “Say that phrase again.”

  “What? The one and the same?” Walden asked with another wink.

  “No. What you said when I walked in the room,” Warlock corrected him.

  “You mean, baby. A naughty nurse. Daddy likes. Come over here and shake that sweet butt for me?” he inquired.

  “That’s the one,” Warlock said as she reached down, gathered a handful of the man’s dirty tee shirt and slapped him across the face. “Say it again!”

  “Ouch. What? I don’t understand?” he pleaded.

  “Say the phrase again,” demanded Warlock. “This is a teachable moment. Say it!”

  “Baby. A naughty nurse. Daddy likes. Come over here and shake that sweet butt for me,” he stammered.

  Warlock’s backhand rocked Walden and if not for her holding the tee shirt, he’d have fallen off the chair. “Say it again. With gusto, like you mean it.”

  “Look lady. I don’t…” but the open palm descended leaving a red mark on his face.

  “Come on, say it again with feeling,” urged Warlock.

  “Baby. A naughty nurse. Daddy likes. Come over here. And shake that sweet butt. For me,” he whispered while trembling.

  Again, the open hand swung back and the crack echoed around the room.

  “This time louder, so I can hear it,” growled Warlock.

  “I don’t think, I’ll ever say that again as long as I live,” Walden assured her as he jerked his head anticipating another slap.

  “Lesson learned,” Warlock stated stepping back and putting distance between them. “You have a package for me?”

  “Oh, no. No, no! You’re Master Sergeant Alberich?” he asked in horror. “I didn’t know.”

  “Well, you know now. Where is my package?” she inquired.

  “Just a second, Master Sergeant Alberich,” he begged.

  Walden used both hands to push out of the chair. As he staggered to a corner of the room, he mentioned. “I thought you’d never get here.”

  “I caught the first shuttle off Uno,” she replied not sure why she bothered talking to the pig.

  “Here it is,” he announced picking up a box. Turning around, he held out the container with both hands as if using it to defend himself from the woman. “I apologize for saying that to you.”

  “Saying what?” inquired Warlock as she took the package.

  One of Walden’s hands shot out in a defensive move while the other caressed his red cheeks.

  “Nothing, Master Sergeant,” he guaranteed her. Seeing Warlock turn for the door, he added with hesitation. “We. We need to talk.”

  “And why do I need to have a conversation with you?” asked Diosa.

  “Because, Special Agent Eiko has assigned me to you,” he explained. “I’m your pilot.”

  “Not in here,” she stated sniffing the air and shaking her head in frustration at the announcement. “Meet me in the coffee shop on the mezzanine deck. But do take your time and clean up a little.”

  Master Sergeant Alberich was out of the door before pilot Walden Geboren could reply.

  ***

  Diosa selected a table near the back and placed her coffee cup and the package on it. After a sip of go-go juice, she snapped the clasp and lifted the lid. A military PID rested in wrapping and she lifted it out.

  Guessing she’d need to have it activated, Diosa started to put it back in the box. But Walden’s words came back to her. I thought you’d never get here, he said. Figuring it couldn’t hurt, she thumbed the power switch. The Personal Information Device lit up with a graphic of two fingertips. She placed two fingers on the designated area and lifted them quickly. This was crazy, all PIDs had to be coded for the user, especially military devices. Her thumb was on the power switch when words filled the screen.

  Diosa Alberich, Unrestricted Field Agent for Naval Movement Command. GCMC Master Sergeant Retired, Call Sign Warlock. Assignment: Crisis Op Files.

  They had already coded the device for her and Walden seemed confused why it took her so long to get on Orbital Station. Could Special Ag
ent Eiko have set everything up beforehand, assuming she would join the secret organization? He really was irritating.

  Not surprising, nowhere on the device was Galactic Council Intelligent Inquiries Agency mentioned or noted. To her pleasure, Diosa did find numbers for military installations, contacts for department heads, and an enormous number of reports. She was so involved in the PID, it caught her off guard when Walden Geboren arrived.

  “Ma’am. I’d like to apologize for my behavior and appearance when you came to my room,” the pilot stated.

  He was freshly shaved, his hair looked clean and he wore pressed slacks and a shirt. Slipping off her goggle, Diosa detected normal carbon dioxide from his breathing and very little ammonia that would indicate excessive perspiration. At least he wasn’t lying about being sorry.

  “Get a coffee and sit with me,” she offered as she flipped her PID to the main screen.

  He returned with two pecan rolls and a large coffee.

  “Hungry?” inquired Diosa.

  “Something to soak up the alcohol,” he advised as he pulled off a piece of roll and shoved it into his mouth. “I’m too old to party for five days. But once I surveyed and stocked our ship, I had nothing to do but make bad choices.”

  “Our ship?” asked Warlock. “We have the use of a spacecraft?”

  “Yes ma’am,” Walden replied. “It’s a sweet ride. They chopped the bottom off of a patrol boat and sectioned off the upper portion. You and I have a stateroom. Each that is. There’s a gym and two holding cells. A small galley and a machine shop.”

  “Call me Diosa or Warlock. The ma’am thing makes me feel old,” Warlock suggested. “It sounds as if the only thing were missing is a gunship.”

  “We have one, and a small shuttle tucked in behind the ion wall,” Walden exclaimed. “And it’s a ten-cannon ion wall. She’s fast. I made good time from Planet Dos, where I picked her up.”