Authors: Tony Ruggiero
General Morris:
“Upon returning from a mission, their ship exploded. We suspected the cartels learned of the vessel they were on and planted the bomb. The four men were killed.”
Congressman Stewart:
“A tragic loss of life. Our hearts go out to the families of these fine men.”
General Morris:
“Thank you, sir. Because of the circumstances, you can understand our reasons for not declassifying any of this information. If we were to do so, there is a good chance that many of the support personnel utilized by the team might be in jeopardy. We want to ensure that they are not connected with it in any way to protect them from harm.”
Congressman Stewart:
“Of course. I see no reason to declassify this at this time. We will go with the thirty-year requirement. (Pause) General, I have one more question. Is there a plan to continue with this type of covert methodology?”
General Morris:
“Sir, we are currently looking at this. If we can develop some alternate means of protecting the men against the dangers that occurred, we may resume operations. But as of this time, we have ceased all operations and disbanded all those involved, with orders to not speak to anyone until such time as the information is declassified.”
Congressman Stewart:
“Thank you, General Morris, for your candid responses. You have been extremely helpful in clearing up our questions concerning this operation. We hope that you will apply this straightforwardness to the rest of your tenure at SOCOM and the use of America’s Special Forces.”
General Morris:
“I shall do my best. Thank you.”
*******
General Morris left the congressional meeting and within a few minutes was inside a black Suburban, making his way to the airport. As the sights of the city passed by him, he let out a long sigh of relief, loosening the tie of his dress uniform. As he slid back on the seat of the plush vehicle that had been provided from the local special operations detachment, reflecting that he never felt so glad to be on his way back to his command at MacDill AFB in Florida. Being on the hill was never comfortable when you were a man holding military secrets.
His cell phone rang.
“Yes,” he answered.
“That went well,” the voice said.
“How would you know? You weren’t there,” Morris replied. “I was the one on the hot seat doing all of the…stretching of the truth.”
“Yes, I know. And you stretched it well,” the voice said, with a hint of humor. “I’m reading the transcript over again as we speak.”
“How did—”
“Nothing happens on the hill that we don’t know about,” the voice said calmly. “That should keep them satisfied for the time being—I really loved the part when you got all mushy about protecting lives and all that shit. I actually felt emotional for a nanosecond.”
“Glad you approve,” Morris said sarcastically. “It’s something you wouldn’t understand unless you’ve worn the uniform. I’m willing to bet that you haven’t—have you?”
“That’s not important right now,” the voice said, ignoring the comment. “I was calling to inform you that we have decided to speed things up a little and move up the test date by six months.”
“What?” Morris exclaimed. “They just arrived. How the hell—”
“Don’t whine, General. It’s so unbecoming of a man of your presumed stature and in the uniform, as you mentioned earlier. Have them prepared to move within a week’s time.”
“To where?” Morris asked.
“The compound on the amphibious base in Virginia where the original Team were staged—they have a vacancy at the moment. No point in not using the complex. It’s already designed as a holding area. Our guests should be quite comfortable there and even you and your men can’t fuck it up—or can you?”
“How dare—”
“Tsk, tsk, tsk, General. I don’t think you want to go there—do you? Haven’t we had this discussion before when you signed on? Yes, I believe so. The nature of this operation and all that it entails is above you and your small military mind. You are a soldier—you’re doing the grunt work here, isn’t that what soldiers do?” The voice didn’t wait for an answer but continued on. “Of course it is. That is, unless you don’t feel capable. Is that the case, General? Don’t think you can handle this operation?”
“I—” the General started to say.
“I’m not done yet so shut the hell up! General Stone had issues with our plans. He is no longer with us anymore. Do you have any issues with our plans, General?”
“No,” Morris replied, the sarcasm and anger in his voice now gone and replaced with a submissiveness that made the General feel sick to his stomach.
“Good. Now get back to MacDill and make the necessary preparations. I’ll be in touch.”
“But…”
The caller disconnected.
General Morris folded the cell phone and placed it into his jacket pocket. As he withdrew his hand from his pocket, he unconsciously ran his fingers on the ribbons and awards upon his jacket. It was a habit when he was troubled about something. The feel of the cloth ribbons and the shiny metal emblems reminded him of what he had done to earn those awards; hard honest work—placing his life on the line at times. The others, fellow soldiers, that he had known that had fallen and given their life to country—honor, courage, and commitment.
Now, however, instead of getting the warmth of association with his previous service and comrades, the feeling was that of betrayal. He quickly removed his hand from his awards and placed them in his lap. It wasn’t the first time he had gotten this feeling. It seemed that every time his employer called, it got worse.
My employer—the damn spooks. They don’t have a bloody clue how things are in the military—all they know is what they want. They throw words like national security around as if it was a simple greeting. How did we let them get so entrenched? How I wish I had stayed with the normal military and not gotten involved. They’re like leeches—once they hold of you, all they do is suck you dry until you become like one of them.
“How much longer to the airport?” he barked.
“Ten minutes, sir,” the driver answered.
“Get on it—I have a flight to catch,” the General said, and then added softly to himself, “Yeah, a direct flight to hell if I’m not careful.”
Part II
Chapter One
Hotel-Norfolk, Virginia
P
RESENT
D
AY
The naked man lay on his back in the bed next to the woman as she slowly ran her tongue over his neck. She would stop long enough to kiss him and then begin licking again, searching for the spots she knew would further excite him. He could feel her warm breath on his skin and his own goose bumps; a dead giveaway that she was doing just the right thing. He felt so simple—so vulnerable—so predictable.
He placed his arms around her cool body, drawing her closer. He liked the feel of her flesh under his hands as he ran them along her silky smooth skin. He slid them up to her head and played with her long hair, which felt like silk as it slipped through his fingers—teasing him—daring him to try and hold on. He brought a few strands near his face and smelled it; it had a fruity smell of some kind he couldn’t place, either because he didn’t know what fruit it mimicked, or more likely he didn’t care at the moment as his mind fell further and further into the pleasurable abyss she drew him into. The smell of her hair drifted away as he encountered the perfume she wore.
The perfume was intoxicating—a sweet and enticing aphrodisiac. He closed his eyes and allowed himself to drift into the tantalizing scent as it tempted him. The combination of all these sensations were magical as they drove him away from reality and into a place where there were no worries, no cares—just pleasure. And it was working, he thought, as he felt his own excitement building within him.
She moved closer and slid her body on top of his. He felt his own breathing quicken; small gasps escaped his lips as she deftly used her hands to touch him in the areas that he wanted. It was as if she knew what his mind was thinking. She was very talented and very good at what she did—very good indeed.
She deftly moved her body, joining with his and becoming one. At first, she moved slowly, as if relishing the feeling, but she gradually increased her motion. He rode the waves of the building crescendo of excitement with enthusiasm as he approached his climax. She also moved quicker and with urgency, indicating her own approach to pleasure as she began to thrust her pelvis back and forth. He felt her lips with their kisses upon his neck become deeper and wetter. Her tongue became vicious as she lapped roughly at his skin an uncontrollable passion. He heard her give into her passion as she opened her mouth and gasped with pleasure. It was then that the moment froze in time as simultaneously as he heard her gasp and felt her teeth bite at his neck. He went mad with fear.
Adrenaline surged uncontrollably through his veins. His body instantly jerked upward and his arms grabbed her roughly at the shoulders, throwing her off him as if she were weightless. She tumbled on the edge of the bed before she rolled off and hit the floor with a resounding thump. His hands reached toward his own neck and his fingers searched for any tear, cut…, or blood. He felt nothing of the sort on his neck and the adrenaline surge began to recede to the depths of safety as if saying, false alarm.
“What the hell is wrong with you, John?” the woman screamed. Her voice was angry, but within it, there was also some fear and perhaps even a touch of sympathy. “Are you trying to kill me?”
“I’m…sorry,” he said. “I just—I don’t know…” He hesitated, not knowing what else to say.
“Ouch,” she said, as she rose from the floor. Her hands went to her right hip, which appeared red and irritated.
“Are you all right?” he asked.
“What do you think? Oooh, I don’t know. I’m lucky if you didn’t break my hip, for Christ sakes. Damn, John, what is it with you?”
He rose from the bed and went to her, reaching out. She drew back, staring at him wide-eyed.
“Don’t touch me!” she cried. “Just don’t touch me. I don’t know what the hell is wrong with you!”
“Sarah, I didn’t mean to hurt you. I just—”
“What, John?” she asked. She limped over to where her clothes draped over a chair and began to put them back on, her eyes refusing to look at him.
“I don’t know,” he said. “Look, don’t go. I just lost my head. Something from my past,” he said, as he sat down on the side of the bed. He raised his hands to his head and ran his fingers through his mostly gray hair.
“Which you won’t tell me about,” she said curtly. “You never want to talk about it. You have one excuse after another: you can’t say anything because it’s classified and you can get in trouble or it’s too horrific to discuss or that I wouldn’t possibly understand.”
“I can’t talk about it.” he said in a defensive tone that he thought came across too strongly. He tried to ease the tension out of his voice as he continued, “It involves things that happened when I was in the service. It has to be the right time. I just need a little more time to get it all straight.”
“And while you wait for the appropriate
time,
what the hell am I supposed to do?” she said angrily. Her eyes began to fill with tears. “I’ve known you for six months now and you shut me out from trying to help. I can’t help if you won’t talk about it. I see how you drift off sometimes. I hear you say things in your sleep. When I ask you about it, all you do is shut yourself up in that office of yours, work on your book and…” Her voice trailed off. She was completely dressed now and sat down in the chair to put her shoes on.
“And what?” he asked.
“Ignore me,” Sarah said. “It’s like I’m a burden to you. Doesn’t it ever cross your mind why I suggest coming to a hotel? It’s because when you are home and around your books, you don’t notice me.”
“That’s not true,” he said, knowing he lied.
“Sure it is, John,” she asserted. “If I don’t have ancient myth or legend tattooed on my forehead or my ass, you aren’t interested. When you were still in the Navy it was different, I thought there would be a chance for us when you got out. But I was wrong. You’ve gotten worse. Now you’re obsessed with…” she waved her hands in the air above her in exasperation, “whatever the hell it is that’s consuming you.”
“You’re being unrealistic,” he said, but the words didn’t sound convincing even to him. “I’m just working on the book.”
She looked at him with eyes that bore into him, then stood from the chair and grabbed her purse and jacket. “Even you don’t believe that,” she said. “The last six months have been like hell with you, John. Even when we’re making love, you can’t let go. I do the wrong thing, or sneak up on you and you freak out like you did just now. What am I supposed to do—wait until you really hurt me?”
“It will pass. I—”
“Will it? I don’t know what to believe anymore, John.”
“Sarah, please. Listen to me.”
“I can’t anymore. I need more and you won’t give it to me. I thought I could know you, John Reese. I wanted to know you. I thought I could figure out the Navy guy and the historian who was behind that shy bookworm exterior. I tried, but I can’t. Because you won’t let me.”
She walked toward the door of the hotel room and placed her hand on the doorknob.
“Sarah, wait.” he said. “Can we talk?”
She turned back toward him. Her eyes were glassy now, filled with tears that she tried to hold back. “Will you tell me everything John? Everything?”
The word hung in the air like a challenge. The gauntlet before him was a simple choice, but one he knew he could not make. He looked at her for a few seconds, and then looked away.
“Good bye, John,” Sarah said. “I hope you find…whatever the hell you’re looking for before it consumes you.”