Operation (13 page)

“Where did the furnishings come from?” he asked.

“I thought we might as well be comfortable and just in case we have visitors. It will look more normal,” Andre said with a shrug.

Dimitri smiled. “Good. Good. You have done well. But where is the other area you spoke of?”

“This way,” Andre said, as he indicated the direction toward the rear of the house. In a back bedroom, he turned on a light switch and indicated the walk-in closet.

“You would never suspect it,” Andre said. “As much as the people thought it was necessary to maintain their safety, they did not like to have their fears known.”

In the closet, Andre reached down and removed a wooden slat from the hardwood floor, revealing a large pull ring. Andre gripped it in his hand and pulled. A section of the floor rose up on hinges, revealing a large opening and a series of steps that went downward. Andre reached for a switch on the wall and flipped it on. Incandescent lighting flickered into life, showing that the steps went down at least twenty-five feet.

“They called them bomb shelters. In the event of war and the possible bombing of the area with nuclear weapons, many families undertook the preparations in the event of such an attack. The underground area is secure and impervious to radiation because of the depth and insulation of the earth over the cement construction.”

“How large is the area?” Dimitri asked.

“There is plenty of room for us.”

“Excellent,” Dimitri murmured.   

“Almost perfect,” Andre said, his voice losing some of its enthusiasm.

“What do you mean—almost?”

“There is only one way in and out. If this area was compromised, they would have us cornered.”

“I see,” Dimitri said. “We will have to make sure that does not happen then. You have had the alarms installed?”

“Yes, all the doors and windows are secured.”

“Then we should be fine. It’s late, we should make ready for the day,” Dimitri said as he looked toward the two girls. “Ishma, Crema, do you understand about our need to rest during the day out of the light?”

“Yes,” Ishma said.

Crema nodded her head in agreement.

“Good. We will start your education tomorrow. I do not know how much they told you but I doubt it was much.”

“There is much we do not understand,” Ishma said.

“I know,” Dimitri said. “It must all appear confusing to you, this life that you have been placed into. I will try to make some sense of it for you. However, you must realize that what you will learn may be painful. It is that way with truth. But it is late now and we must—”

“We hide?” Crema asked. “Why?”

Dimitri looked into the child’s face as he searched his own thoughts to the simple question. Finally he spoke. “We are different. In this world, different is susceptible to the cruelty of others. We are feared and so we must seek safety from those who fear us. Like everyone else, even those that are not like us, we are vulnerable at certain times, such as to the light of the day. Our enemies are not. They can move around in the daylight when we cannot. So we must take precautions for our own safety, to protect us.”

“I remember when we used to walk about in the daylight. The hills and valleys where the flowers were,” Ishma said, speaking softly as if remembering a fond dream. “They were so pretty…I miss them.”

“Yes. I understand. I, too, remember those times. But you must put those thoughts aside. You shall begin a new journey, a new way of life now. Tomorrow, when—”

“And if the bad people find us? What shall we do,” she asked.

“What we must to survive.”

“What is—” Ishma began, but was cut off by Dimitri.

“No more now. It is time to rest. Go,” Dimitri said with a touch of impatience. “Follow Iliga and he will get you settled in for the day.”

The two girls followed Iliga down the steps and along the corridor that led to the main chamber.

“You will tell them everything, won’t you?” Andre said to Dimitri when the girls were safely out of hearing range.

“Yes,” Dimitri said. “They have a right to know.”

“Perhaps a slight alteration of the truth—”

“No more tonight,” Dimitri said fatigued. He knew it was not his body; it physically was unable to feel fatigue, only hunger. He was tired of his thoughts, the constant reminder of what and who he was and what he must tell these two little girls about the man that made them and what had happened to their father. “It is time for rest, Andre. Let us go to it in peace.”

Andre smiled at Dimitri. Their friendship and understanding was an old one that not disturbed by uncomfortable words. Andre nodded his head in agreement and descended the stairs.

Dimitri grasped the pull ring on the inside of the door and pulled it shut behind him. The sound of the closing of the door gave Dimitri pause.
There is only one way in and out. If this area was compromised, they would have us cornered.
With a sigh, he closed the trap door.

Chapter Ten

CINCLANTFLT Compound-Norfolk, Virginia

“What do you mean you don’t know what happened?” General Morris shouted at the Navy captain standing before him.

The captain remained nervously at attention, his eyes darting about nervously; a spasmodic twitch caused the right side of his cheek to move uncontrollably. The highly polished golden trident on his chest glimmering in the afternoon sunlight, a beacon of contrast compared to the other rows of ribbons. Physically, he was the picture of strength: his body muscular; his waist narrow and not an ounce of body fat present anywhere.

“Sir,” the captain began, trying to keep his voice under control. “It happened while they were being moved. They were—”

“Bull shit! There were triple security measures in place! It’s not fucking possible so you better come up with something else!”

“They’re gone, Sir,” the captain responded meekly. “That is all we know for sure at the moment. All indications are that it was an escape.”

“Nonsense!” General Morris exhaled strongly. “I hope you had enough God-damned sense to lock down the base until you find out what happened.”

“Yes, sir!”

“Do you have any idea what you’ve done? You’re a disgrace to that uniform and—”

“Sir, with all due respect, I—”

“You shut the hell up!” the general screamed as he lunged to within inches of the captain. “Don’t even try any bullshit. You think you have certain rights, don’t you? Well, you’re wrong. When you accepted this…unusual assignment, you left those rights behind.”

General Morris slowly moved away from the captain. He focused on slowing his breathing and calming himself. He turned to his chair behind his desk and sat down. The damage was done and the captain still might serve a useful purpose. He could always get rid of him later.

“Look, they’re there somewhere,” the general began. “You have one hour to get me an answer. If you don’t, you’ll spend the rest of your life in Leavenworth…that is, if you’re lucky. You have one fucking hour to fix all of this. Otherwise you’re dead. Do you understand me, Captain?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Then get the hell out of here.”

The captain turned and walked quickly from the room.

“Son of a bitch,” Morris cursed under his breath. “Do you have any idea what you’ve done?”

General Morris stood and walked over to the window that overlooked the CINCLANTFLT compound on the Naval Station in Norfolk, Virginia. He wished he were back at MacDill AFB in his own office at SOCOM, instead of this temporary one he used when traveling in the area. He would be if it weren’t for the commissioning of their latest Special Operations ship; otherwise, he would have sent someone else.

What if he’s correct?
What if there has been an escape? No, not possible. I reviewed the procedures myself. There are too many fail-safes built in. The only way would be if they possess…or if they were…

General Morris picked up the telephone labeled on the receiver:
SECURE
. He dialed a series of numbers and waited. A voice answered.

“Yes.”

“We may have a problem.”

“How bad?”

“Probable extreme situation,” the general said.

“That is bad. How certain?”

“Checking now, we should have confirmation in an hour.”

“Is lockdown in effect?”

“Yes.”

“Verify the situation and get back to me. How may this have happened?”

“Apparently they were being moved on faked authorization. Logically speaking, there could be possible scenarios of outside involvement, maybe another organization with similar capabilities.”

“That is not possible.”

“I don’t think anything is impossible,” Morris said. “Highly unlikely, but it would fit the scenario if it has happened. Is there anything else?”

“You’re a dreamer,” the voice mocked. “But I’ll humor you. If there were outside involvement, the natural assumption would be those involved in the last mission. Let’s get an update on the whereabouts of all personnel involved in the Team of Darkness operation.”

“Got it. Anything else?” the general asked.

“That should suffice for the moment. Oh, by the way, I ran into your favorite congressman the other day. He asked how you were. It hasn’t been that long since you appeared on the hill to answer questions about your predecessor. Isn’t that a coincidence? It would be really bad if you had to go before them again and explain how you lied and really fucked up this time.”

“Now you—” General Morris began.

“Shut up! You just do as you’re told and you better pray that this is nothing but a mistake. You assured us that there was no possibility of anything like this happening. And
she
is going to be very pissed off.”

“I thought—”

CLICK
.  

General Morris slowly returned the telephone to its holder. His earlier anger at the SEAL captain replaced by something else. Something he loathed to experience: fear. Usually he was on the giving side of the equation. Not this time.

He opened the top desk drawer and removed the Glock. He slid out the magazine clip and checked to ensure that it was fully loaded. Satisfied it was, he placed it into his briefcase. He kept the gun in the office, not unlike a blanket that a young child clings to for security, in the unlikely event that there would ever come a time that he would need it. However, for the first time in his career, he felt that things were changing too quickly and getting out of hand and if he was not careful, it could cost him dearly.

He picked up the secure phone and dialed a number that he thought he would never have to use.

“Code please?” a voice asked.

“Alpha-Yankee-Foxtrot-nine-six-three-one. Authority four-three-one. Level Whiskey-tango-foxtrot.”

There was a slight pause. As the general waited, he wondered who had thought up the idea for what he was now enacting. Had it ever been used before? The telephone number was for a group of “discreet” SEALs that were assigned unique missions on a case-by-case basis, no questions asked as long as the proper identification codes were provided.

“Code confirmed. State request,” the voice returned.

“Personal protection team. Deadly force authorized.”

“Location?”

“Little Creek Amphibious Base. SEAL compound.”

“Team dispatched. ETA: Forty-five minutes. Will meet on site.”

The phone line went dead.

The general replaced the telephone to its holder and glanced out of the window at the warm Virginia day. There was not a cloud in the velvety blue sky, giving it a dreamlike quality. However, no matter how hard he tried to feel the warmth and beauty of the gorgeous day outside, it evaded him. 

He returned his thoughts back to the present and looked at the briefcase on his desk which contained the weapon. He patted it, feeling a sense of remorse for having lost something today, something inside of him which made the purpose of it all seem worthwhile.

He then pressed the intercom button on his telephone.

“Yes, sir!” a voice answered.

“Get my car out front. Instruct the driver the destination is the Little Creek Amphibious base.”

Chapter Eleven

Pentagon-Washington, DC

Lieutenant Colonel Sam Barkley’s stomach rolled as he read the message for a second time: “Report to sub level 3, room 240 at 1300. Don’t be late.” His immediate superior, Colonel Black, had signed it.

“Sub level 3,” he murmured. “That’s spook country.” He had never been on that level before and for good reason. If you didn’t have business there, and by business it meant specific authorization and clearance, you weren’t allowed in. A sense of pervading dread filled him. “What the hell is this about?”

“You got my message?”

Barkley jumped at the sound of Colonel Black’s voice as he stepped into his office.

“Yes, sir, but I don’t get it. What’s it all about?”

“I don’t know,” Black said as he looked at his watch. “It’s 1240. You’d best be there on time. These…ah…people don’t like to be kept waiting.”

“Yes, sir. I’ll be on my way.”

Barkley rose and moved toward the door. He noticed that Colonel Black hadn’t moved from where he had been standing. Barkley couldn’t help feeling that he wanted to say something else.

“Is there anything else, sir?” Barkley asked.

“No. Just be careful,” Black said, placing emphasis on the word and then he turned and walked away.

Barkley turned his gaze back to the paper message he still held in his hand. He couldn’t remember being this nervous since…since the day he had been secretly placed in charge of the medical investigation team for the vampires discovered in Kosovo. He didn’t know how, but he felt fairly certain that this meeting he was being summoned to had something to do with it.
But that was over a year ago…I’ve been through I don’t know how many damn debriefings and meetings about the deaths of General Stone and Commander Scott.

He looked at his watch and saw it was 1245. He also noticed that his hand was shaking. He rose from his desk and left his office. As he descended to level 3 of the Pentagon, he couldn’t help but notice that the further he went down, the less and less he saw anyone. As a veteran in the Army with over twenty years of service, he would have thought the days of feeling scared or nervous about any kind of meeting would have become commonplace. But this was different. He had no idea who he was meeting or why. He couldn’t help think that the Team of Darkness operation was going to be the subject. Why else would he have been summoned to the lower levels, or
Spookville,
as it was commonly referred to, the home of agencies that didn’t exist to the public.