Читать книгу Book I: The Disappearance (The Fallen Race Trilogy) - Colin Patrick Garvey - Страница 8

Colonel Malcolm Fizer is a tidy man, a man that does not care for loose ends, like Jonathan Kaley. Unlike Sergeant Kaley, Colonel Fizer knows when to obey orders – always. There are no ifs, ands, buts, gray areas or room for interpretation in the military. There is only the strict chain-of-command. This is a chain that can never be broken or circumvented, a chain that is the backbone on which the brass in the military relies upon and has complete and utter trust in. It is a foundation so solidly built upon for hundreds of years that no one man is above it. Not a four-star general or an infantryman, and certainly not Sergeant Kaley.

Colonel Fizer likes Jonathan Kaley because he is a dedicated soldier and believes in the righteousness of the United States military. On the other hand, Kaley is also unafraid to speak his mind to his superior officers or second-guess their judgment. It has certainly put him in hot water on more than one occasion, which explains his current assignment at Evans.

Kaley was in the Army intelligence business for years, first as an analyst and then, after receiving reconnaissance and combat training and being schooled in stealth warfare, as an operative in the field. He earned high marks from his superiors in all areas of these missions: planning and organization, execution, objectives attained. There was only one aspect that seemed to rankle the top brass more than anything about Kaley: his constant questioning of orders. Regardless of what the orders dictated, Kaley always seemed to believe there was a better way of doing it. Namely, his way. Despite the fact that he was often right, this still did not justify Kaley's actions in the eyes of his superiors.

Although the brass viewed Kaley's hesitancy in carrying out certain orders to be bordering on insubordination, they put up with him because he was one of the best and he always seemed to achieve his mission objectives. Nevertheless, his superiors did not take too kindly to Kaley's brashness, and their tolerance of him was rapidly coming to an end. By that time, they were simply looking for an excuse to kick his ass to the curb.

Then, they found their opportunity. Kaley and several of his colleagues were conducting training exercises with a Special Forces squad based out of Georgia, a group that made Kaley and his team look like a bunch of librarians. The Special Forces squad was showing Kaley and his men new stealth techniques, as well as the latest in military gadgets and hardware.

On the third day of these training maneuvers, the Special Forces squad brought Kaley and his team to a small island off the coast for what they believed to be a P.O.W. rescue operation exercise. Instead, Kaley's team arrived to find a group of enemy combatants, real enemy combatants, who had been in the custody of the military since shortly after 9/11.

The patriotic fervor that gripped the nation after that fateful day had a different effect on the men in this Special Forces squad. Their patriotic zeal had turned jingoistic, which happened to a number of Americans during this time, although they may be reluctant to admit it. Every man with dark, Middle Eastern features and every woman who wears a hijab is instantly an enemy, real or imagined. The men in this squad saw only red when it came to these people, and they were determined to extract confessions, terror plots, or more names from them, whether the prisoners knew anything or not.

By the time Kaley's team arrived, it appeared that many of the enemy combatants had already been worked over. What was worse, however, was that the Special Forces squad seemed to take a truly perverse pleasure in these “interrogations.” This was not a good cop, bad cop routine - this was strictly bad cop. After one of the soldiers broke a prisoner's nose, another soldier tried to break it back the way it was, to no avail. Questions were asked sparingly, as an afterthought to the actual beatings, as if they needed an excuse to use the prisoners as human piñatas. No matter what the answers, it seemed inevitable that they would be greeted with a violent response.

Then, the Special Forces’ men started berating Kaley's team for their hesitancy, their shock and awe at the brutal beatings, and even questioned his team's patriotism. They called Kaley and his men candyasses and pussies, and lectured them that this is the way the world works now: everyone is a terrorist until proven otherwise. And to find each and every terrorist, you have to beat it out of them.

Finally, Kaley was ordered by the squad's commander to obtain the coordinates of a terrorist camp operating in the mountains of Afghanistan. If the man was not forthcoming with the information, force was necessary and authorized. Kaley refused, arguing that he was unfamiliar with the intelligence they were referring to and he could not be ordered to interrogate a prisoner on matters he had not been briefed. Furthermore, Kaley asserted that he would not use force on an unarmed man unless absolutely necessary. This provoked the ire of the commander, and he began echoing his soldiers’ sentiments about what the real world is like now and how all Americans need to take off the kid gloves. He gave Kaley one last chance to interrogate the man or risk the prospect of a court martial. Again, Kaley refused.

The commander stared at him, his face a mask of red and his blood boiling from Kaley's refusal to follow an order from a superior officer. The commander nodded at one of his men, who approached the prisoner and loomed menacingly over the man. The soldier looked back at Kaley and smiled. He grabbed the prisoner's arm and without asking a single question, broke the man's arm over his knee, causing a horrible cracking sound, followed by the prisoner's agonizing scream. Out of pure instinct, Kaley roared towards the soldier who broke the prisoner's arm and knocked him nearly unconscious with one punch.

The commander attempted to court martial Kaley for his “unprovoked” and “unwarranted” attack, as it was described, but a member within the top brass knew Kaley's value as a soldier and thus, a court martial was prevented. However, Kaley was removed from Army intelligence and any further missions, and he was demoted from Sergeant Major to First Sergeant with the understanding that he would likely never rise above this rank. An additional indignity was heaped upon him when he was given a supervisory role at Evans, a position typically occupied by a Staff Sergeant, a full three ranks behind a First Sergeant.

Kaley, however, has never questioned this or complained. He loves the military and it, in turn, still loves him. Colonel Fizer certainly can respect Sergeant Kaley's sense of duty and purpose, but Kaley disobeyed a direct order from a superior officer and this cannot be tolerated, especially not again. He has placed his life and the life of Private Rushmore in more danger than he could possibly imagine. They witnessed something that was not supposed to have been witnessed by anyone.

Fizer partially blames himself for the untenable situation he has put the Foundation in. Upon ordering Kaley to stand down regarding the signal discovered in Lake Michigan, Fizer assumed with good reason that the order would be followed and that would be the end of the matter. Fizer should have known better.

Sergeant Kaley is a bulldog, tenacious in pursuit of answers to his questions. Indeed, the man craves information and he is not one to drop something at the first sign of an obstacle. He does not like to be stonewalled or bullied, a trait that has already had disastrous effects on his military career.

The signal should not have been discovered in the first place, a fact that continues to baffle Fizer. Nevertheless, he does not believe he is to blame. He has more important things on his mind than monitoring what his subordinates are doing. It was only after a substantial amount of time elapsed before he thought to review Sergeant Kaley's and Private Rushmore's keystroke log.

The keystroke-logging program was developed several years ago and today nearly every computer under military ownership contains the program. Essentially, a computer equipped with the program can detail each keystroke entered by the user during a specified time period and produce a readable report for a supervisor to review. The report serves a two-fold purpose: first, it informs the supervisor if the appropriate steps and guidelines were followed in the event of an emergency situation; and second, for security reasons, it lists everything that the soldier looked at, printed, copied, downloaded, recorded, or otherwise reviewed during the shift.

Nearly an hour after Kaley and Rushmore's shift ended, Fizer finally thought to review the logs and discovered that something appeared to have been downloaded from a non-military satellite to a disc on Rushmore's computer, which can only be done with permission from a superior officer. Needless to say, the hot water Kaley is dipping his toes in seems to be downright scalding.

Since the satellite does not belong to the military, it would take considerable time to determine from where the imagery was downloaded. More importantly though, Fizer has absolutely no idea what was downloaded and copied to a disc, and perhaps devastatingly, where the disc is now. When Fizer attempted to summon Rushmore to his office, he was informed, to his horror, that Rushmore requested a weekend pass, claiming a family emergency to his company commander. The company commander's best guess is that Rushmore is headed home to Fort Wayne, Indiana, but he admitted that Rushmore did not actually specify.

That little shit, Fizer thought, he could be going anywhere. He could go AWOL with whatever he has in his possession, or worse yet, to the media.

Fizer started to become frantic, contemplating what he should do, actually considering whether he could withhold this piece of information from the Foundation. He knows what their immediate reaction would be – that he had fucked up, and he is incapable of handling the massive responsibility that comes with moving into a higher position of power within the group. More time ticked off the clock before Fizer finally realized that he did not have a choice. If whatever Kaley or Rushmore has in their possession is brought to light and the group discovers that he knew all along, Fizer would be finished, and he is not thinking merely about his career. The colonel reluctantly called and informed Moriah what happened.

Surprisingly, Moriah remained calm, asked several questions regarding Kaley's and Rushmore's whereabouts, and simply stated that the necessary arrangements would be made. Moriah informed Fizer that he would see him soon and hung up.

What a damn shame that Private Rushmore and Sergeant Kaley will be dead by morning, Fizer thinks.

Like all good soldiers though, Fizer prefers to believe that Kaley would take enormous pride in knowing that he died for the greater good, to protect our nation and better yet, mankind.

What more could a devoted soldier want out of life?

* * *

Initially, they received the good news first. The vessel had been flown successfully without detection and it “picked up” its passengers without incident.

Unfortunately for the Foundation, a couple pieces of rather disturbing news piggybacked their way onto the good news. It was confirmed that one of their soldiers had been killed, but this could easily be written off. What concerns Moriah is that a fish has slipped the net. As far as they know, it is only one fish, but this, in Moriah's mind, is one too many. They have not yet ascertained who the lone survivor is, but the person who killed one of their soldiers certainly possessed some type of hand-to-hand combat training. The blow that snapped the soldier's neck was not a second-rate, bush league choke-job. It was a swift and lethal blow intended for one thing and one thing only: instantaneous death.

Moriah suspects who the sole survivor is, but he does not even want to mention his name until it can be confirmed. Moriah wonders if the doctor was able to deliver a warning to him beforehand, but why would the consummate family man leave his family behind?

It does not really matter. It would not be long before they establish which one of their intended victims has escaped and where he or she might be going. All they have to do is determine from the master list who is unaccounted for and then identify their closest contact points.

Doubly unfortunate, the bad news seems to travel in pairs. The second piece of information that failed to sit well with Moriah was Fizer's revelation that something was downloaded from a non-military satellite at Evans by one, possibly two, of Fizer's men. Now, the disc, or discs, need to be recovered, and the men…well, the men need to be located and…dealt with.

Moriah knows that Fizer initially failed to review the keystroke-logging program at Private Rushmore's station. Otherwise, why had it taken so long for the colonel to inform them of this crucial piece of information?

Moriah anticipated snags and obstacles along the way, but not caused by members of his own group. Moriah occasionally asks himself how Fizer managed to slither his way inside the Foundation in the first place, but for now, more immediate concerns appear to be pressing.

They need to stay on schedule and now, it seems, they must recover some wayward evidence. For that, Moriah calls in a couple teams of “specialists” to handle the situation. Moriah gives them two names and they ensure him that it will soon be taken care of: Kaley and Rushmore will be pleading for a quick death when they are through with them. While the statement is haughty and a little over-the-top, this reassures Moriah that the evidence will soon be theirs, and the men will soon be a memory, bringing a brief, mischievous smile to his face.

The Pentagon

“…authorities say that a terrorist bombing…”

“…speculation of Islamic fundamentalists…”

“…the symbolism is heavy to strike at innocent Americans on Independence Day…”

“…vows that the monsters responsible will be brought to justice…”

“…several bombs were detonated to guarantee no survivors would make it out alive…”

The group sits in a dark conference room where the only light is provided by the glow of a half-dozen television monitors and several dim overhead lights. They listen to the news reports that are broadcast over and over again, each one recycling what the previous report described. Their faces are sallow and drawn, displaying little emotion except one of utter disbelief. The majority of the men and women seated around the conference table look completely stunned, in a state of shock that this could happen again on American soil, knowing that each one of them has failed in one way or another. There are two men in this room, however, who know the truth of what happened tonight, and they make certain to appear as the others in the room.

General Theodore Parker compulsively tugs at the corners of his salt-and-pepper mustache as he silently stares at the TV screens, studying the various scenes that unfold on each one. General Parker is a man like Colonel Fizer, men who believe in the strict rigidity of the military and an unwavering faith in the chain-of-command.

Parker's father named his son after the great war hero and former president, Theodore Roosevelt, after reading a biography on the renowned “Rough Rider.” Parker's father greatly admired the bull-of-a-man for his courage, honor, cunning, and no-nonsense attitude, from his days as police commissioner of New York to his years spent in the Oval Office. Although not related, it seems that General Parker inherited some of the very same attributes from his namesake that his father so greatly appreciated.

General Parker lived through three American wars and emerged from each one more highly decorated than the last. He caught the tail end of the Korean War in 1953 at the tender age of eighteen, earning a Bronze Star for bravery. In Vietnam, he remained in the midst of the war for almost the entire duration. He served three “official” tours of duty, was wounded four times by enemy fire and twice caught shrapnel from land mines. He arrived in Vietnam as most Americans first did in the early 1960s: strictly as a military advisor. At least, that was what the rest of the world was led to believe.

General Parker was part of a small group of American soldiers, along with several CIA operatives, who were funded by both the South Vietnamese and United States governments to run special operations behind enemy lines. Their primary goal was to cause disruption and chaos, to try and weaken the people's faith in Ho Chi Minh and the tenets of communism he posited. No one can recall to this day whether the South Vietnamese requested the United States’ presence in their fight against the North, or America took it upon itself to volunteer in the crusade against communism, a nefarious ideology circling many nations around the globe at the time.

Regardless, the Americans arrived in Vietnam in the early 1960s to help stop the spread of the evil empire, but it would take over a decade and the loss of 50,000 men before they realized that they had failed and their mission would not be achieved.

It is known for certain that America's primary objective upon their arrival was to simply advise the South Vietnamese on military strategy and basic warfare principles. It turned into something more, however, something that perhaps the U.S. itself escalated.

Parker was part of a group that included not only CIA operatives and military “advisors,” but also South Vienamese military and several guerilla factions opposed to Ho Chi Minh. The South Vietnamese were a motley bunch, a ragtag assortment of shady, untrustworthy characters with questionable interrogation techniques and oftentimes unreliable intelligence. The group committed unspeakable acts that could never be revealed to the American public or the international media. If any of the group's missions became known, the backlash it could have caused would have made the anti-war movement a hundred times stronger than it was. The doves would have had enough ammunition, so to speak, to nearly guarantee that American soldiers would not be stepping away from their own soil for a very long time.

But that did not happen.

Their missions remained top secret, even from them until it was absolutely necessary to disseminate the mission objectives. The group managed to cause major disruption in North Vietnam and there seemed to be a brief spell of outrage at the government from its citizens, but it was to be short-lived. A small blip on the radar screen of populist unrest in North Vietnam. The country's citizens were rural people who did not involve themselves in politics and warfare. It was only after the Americans arrived that the people felt they had been pushed into a war of survival.

One night, four Americans were captured in the dark of night near Hanoi, the capital of North Vietnam. Their avarice had gotten the better of them as they attempted to strike where it would hurt most. General Parker had been on the mission, but he managed to escape, the only one lucky enough to do so.

The four Americans were tortured and interrogated for days, which slowly turned into weeks and then months. The North Vietnamese press were given copies of signed confessions that the Americans had given, detailing secret missions financed by the South Vietnamese and the United States. The “signatures” were illegible, forgeries no doubt, but the damage would soon be done.

The North Vietnamese were careful not to parade the captured Americans around in front of any television cameras, photographers, or journalists, Ho Chi Minh's reasoning being two-fold: first, by not flaunting their “prize” to the rest of the world, he knew the United States would claim that the North Vietnamese government was not, in fact, in possession of American captives. The United States would assert that the North Vietnamese had not captured American soldiers behind enemy lines because indeed, there were no Americans supposedly fighting behind enemy lines. U.S. soldiers were present acting only within the official capacity as military advisors. Therefore, the obvious effect Ho Chi Minh foresaw was that if the U.S. military was conducting operations in North Vietnam, they would cease immediately for fear of additional American soldiers being captured behind enemy lines. Perhaps weighted more heavily, it could lead to a very embarrassing situation for the United States on the diplomatic front and on the world stage for a war the Americans had no right to be involved in.

The second and less obvious reason was that Ho Chi Minh saw no purpose in igniting the fury of the American public by putting on display four of their own, barely holding on to their lives and desperate to be rescued. This would certainly raise the level of sentiment and eagerness for war in the consciousness of the American people. Ho Chi Minh obviously did not want every American man within fighting age enlisting to go to war against his nation because he allowed his pride to get the better of him. Little could he know that in the years to come, many of these so-called “fighting age” men would burn their draft cards and flee to Canada to avoid fighting in the upcoming war, a fortunate and unforeseen variable that would benefit the North Vietnamese.

In their response, the American government denied the existence of the captured men, secret missions behind enemy lines, or the signing of any confessions, but nevertheless, the North Vietnamese once again believed in the strength of Ho Chi Minh for staring down the United States.

Soon after, a cryptic message was sent from Washington, D.C. to their “advisors and agents” in South Vietnam, demanding the termination of any unauthorized operations that were planned in North Vietnam.

For Christ's sake, Parker thought at the time, all the missions were unauthorized as far as the U.S. government was concerned, especially when they went wrong.

They were to “cease and desist all activities that may jeopardize the lives of American soldiers or intelligence agents” and “remain only in the capacity as advisors to the South Vietnamese military.” And that was it. The captured men were left out to dry.

Parker cabled Washington a dozen times, demanding, then pleading, and finally begging for a rescue attempt of the four men. He devised several different rescue missions that he guaranteed would retrieve the men from Hanoi without causing any kind of political fallout or embarrassment to the United States. But time and time again, as expected, his requests were emphatically denied.

He even briefly considered conducting a solo mission, but he knew that without assistance, it would essentially be a suicide run. Parker was outraged, first at his government, then at himself and the captured men, and finally, the North Vietnamese. He came to realize that all soldiers assume certain risks, and they know the risks they take are dangerous, sometimes fatal. Whether the men had cracked under questioning was trivial because they died defending the flag, defending the world against communism, the evil force that it was at the time. They were heroes, unrecognized at that, but heroes nonetheless. And Parker dedicated himself to also being a hero, an unacknowledged one like the captured men.

When the United States “officially” entered the war, Parker fought like a man possessed. His sole mission was to kill and destroy everything in his path. He had no conscience and no time for mercy. He led Special Forces troops on slaughter-filled rampages of the Vietcong that lasted weeks. He burned down dozens of villages, no matter if they were North Vietnamese or South Vietnamese. He did it all for the four men who would never be recognized by their government, whose deaths would be denied until every politician on Capitol Hill was blue in the face from saying that these men never existed.

They existed to Parker, in his mind and in his heart every day, knowing that it could have been him rotting along with them in that shithole. The same thoughts course through his head almost each and every day since then:

What would I have done?

Would I have folded under questioning?

No fucking way.

The next major conflict for the United States was the Persian Gulf War. While it was Stormin’ Norman Schwarzkopf who attained all the glory and basked in the limelight of the press, it was General Parker's strategy that brought a swift and merciless victory for the Americans. He took charge, as he always does, disregarding fame or adulation to ensure a quick and decisive victory and bring the dictator Saddam to his knees.

General Parker played a major role advising Schwarzkopf in positioning of troops and glaring weaknesses in the Iraqi army. It was his experience with warfare that gave the Americans the ultimate edge, along with a couple thousand “smart” bombs. He emerged from the war fully decorated once again and he soon became a five-star general. Several years thereafter, he was appointed to the Joint Chiefs-of-Staff and in the last few years, ironically, he arrived full-circle. He now commands the title of “special military advisor” to the Pentagon and once again, he seems to be taking charge, this time on orders from the President himself.

General Parker rises from his chair in a body that has inarguably grown old, but has certainly not broken down. He remains fit and muscular for all of his seventy-five years and he can still intimidate a whole room simply by walking through the door. He begins moving around the conference table, simultaneously sizing up the situation and the men and women in the room.

“Well, ladies and gentlemen,” he begins, “what occurred here tonight is one of the most callous and cowardly acts I have ever seen. Make no mistake, every act of terrorism is the desperate action of cowards, of enemies who are afraid to come out of the shadows and show themselves, people who hide from the very fight that they are trying to stir up. They strike at the innocent because it is not their way to be involved in a so-called ‘fair fight.’ The innocent are easy targets, ducks in a shooting gallery.”

General Parker has the full attention of the room now, with all eyes glued on him. He is like a preacher in the pulpit whose voice begins to rise with each new word, each new condemnation. It is as if you expect one of his listeners to rise up and cry out, “Praise Jesus!”

But they do not. They remain still, motionless, giving General Parker the respect he expects and, indeed, deserves.

Parker stalks around the large, oval table and points around the room, looking each person in the eyes.

“I want a promise from everyone here today. I should not have to ask it, but I will. I need a promise from each and every person in this room that they will not stop, they will not give up, until we have caught these despicable human beings and brought them to justice. Only then will this reprehensible act be avenged, and the dead will be able to rest in peace.”

He pauses, looks around the silent room, and receives solemn nods from each and every individual. Not a word is said but Parker sees it in their eyes. He nods as well.

He sits down in his chair and looks at the faces around the table.

“Good,” he says confidently, “now let's get started.”