The Harvester (29 page)

I
n a rental car, I pull up to 1677-D Street, Andrew’s Air Force Base. The president himself flies in and out of this base all the time. If it’s safe for him it must be safe for us. Dorian and Kelly Marie hand me their security clearance passes, and I hand all of ours to the armed military police guarding the entrance.

“Do you know where we can find General O’Malley? We have an important meeting with him,” I inform the MP.

“Yes, sir. He’s waiting for you in the drone command center in building 213. Just take D Street down to California Avenue. Make a left, and it’ll be the second building on your right.”

“Thanks,” I reply.

The gate opens, and I drive down D Street. There’s plenty of activity on the base. Groups of soldiers run fitness drills. A large group of airmen stand at parade dress rest and then practice marching drills. We drive by a colonel who gives a sergeant a serious ass chewing on the sidewalk in front of everyone. We can’t help but to laugh.

“There’s California Avenue, Harv,” Kelly Marie tells me and points to the left.

I turn onto it and already see building 213. I pull into the parking lot and park this brand new, bright red rental.

I look at my crew. “Showtime.”

A chief master sergeant, that’s an E-9, leads us into the drone command center, and it is very impressive.

General O’Malley waves us over to a drone controller sitting in front of a screen.

“Great timing, guys. We’re tracking an undesirable as I speak,” he tells us.

We walk to the other side of the command center, and he shows us what they’re doing. On the screen is a video feed of an area of Pakistan’s desert with dwellings and people doing their daily activities.

“The terrorist we’re tracking is number two on the CIA’s and FBI’s most wanted list. Our satellite spotted him driving right outside that small village. We’re close, very close. He won’t even know what hit him,” he comments.

None of us have anything to say. We are caught up with what we see on the screen. The drone’s video feedback now zeroes in on the terrorist’s van.

“Here we go!” he exclaims. “Hit him,” he instructs.

The drone operator simply hits one button, and now we see a rocket get dropped, and it zips its way toward the van. And just like that.
Boom!
The van explodes into a fiery ball of metal carnage. The drone flies off.

“And that’s how we do it, boys,” he joyfully states.

“We’ll find this Vega, and you’ll finish the job and send him to the After,” he adds.

“Very impressive, General. I’ve known about drones and what they can achieve, but I’ve never seen it in action like this,” I state.

“So not to be rude, but why did we have to come here when we could be on the Hunt for Vega,” Kelly Marie asks the general.

The more our relationship becomes a more intimate one, I realize my love for her grows deeper and stronger, especially when she has the balls to ask such a question to such a powerful three star general. Now the only question is how the general is going to react.

“A straight shooter, and she’s female. I admire that. Why, you ask? Well, the best way, fastest way, to find Vega is for one of you to learn all the ins and outs of working the satellites and the drones. You three decide. I’m going to the cafeteria for breakfast. When you’ve decided, let me know,” he explains to us.

He exits the drone command center and leaves us to ponder who it will be.

“I don’t want to do it,” Kelly Marie says.

“Neither do I. I’m meant to be on the Hunt,” Dorian states.

“We’re all meant to not be stuck in front of a screen. We’re not those types of Harvesters,” I reply.

“So who do we bring in who we can trust?” Kelly Marie asks me.

I think for a moment. “I got it. Djinn.”

They smile and nod at the same time.

“Great idea, Harv. Djinn would jump at the chance to play with all this high-tech military equipment,” Dorian replies.

“I’ll call him now. You two go tell the general that we made up our minds,” I instruct them.

They hurriedly exit as I place a call to Djinn.

“Hey, Djinn. I have an amazing opportunity for you.”

S
everal hours later and the three of us have a bit of downtime at a sports bar. The TV hanging near us plays the live presidential debate, and Michael Winters is doing a bang up job of discrediting the president and making valid points that there must be a change.

“Do you think this Winters guy has a chance to win the presidency?” Dorian asks.

“If the president doesn’t retaliate with something amazing, well, he’s going to lose to this mystery republican,” I state.

“This guy just came out of nowhere. He has flown so low off the radar, and yet he’s gaining more support. How can that be?” Kelly Marie inquires.

“It’s simple. It’s called the sympathy vote for Jonathan Jacobs being killed,” I answer her question.

“Why are we here, honey. I mean, Harvey?” Kelly Marie asks.

She just let the cat out of the bag, and I know it to be true due to Dorian giving us a curious scowl and smirk.

“Honey?” he asks with a knowing tone in his voice.

“Don’t even go there, Dorian,” I say with a stern tone in my voice.

“I won’t say anything, guys,” he assures us. “I’ve known for a while and I couldn’t care in the least. We’re a team and I would never rat you out okay,” he states.

“Thanks, Dorian,” Kelly Marie comments.

“No problem. I always thought you two would make a great couple,” he adds on.

“Enough with that talk. Let’s figure out our battle plan. Djinn arrives tomorrow at Andrew’s Air Force base, so we have until then to rest, gather our thoughts and strength, and decide what we’re going to do when Djinn does get a pinpoint on Vega and he will,” I say to them.

“When it does come to that point, I say we need some more Harvesters and a few of General O’Malley’s Special Forces to combat Vega and his crew,” Dorian remarks.

“Good point, Dorian,” I tell him.

A waiter walks over to us. “Would you like to begin with some drinks?” he asks us.

“I’ll take a soda,” I tell the waiter.

Dorian stares at me with shock. “Soda? You?”

“Yeah, soda. I quit drinking,” I inform him. I caringly look into Kelly Marie’s eyes. “For someone special,” I add.

“Wow. A serious transformation for you. Nice,” he replies. “This truly must be love, huh?”

“Sodas all around, please,” Kelly Marie interjects.

“You got it,” the waiter says and walks off. “Looks like I won’t be getting much of a tip,” he adds.

“We heard that, asshole,” I state loud enough for him to hear.

He looks back at me with a shocked expression. Dorian and Kelly Marie chuckle. I throw up my hands.

“Humans, right?” I say, then scoff.

They laugh even harder. I glance back to the TV and realize the president is being verbally destroyed by presidential candidate Michael Winters. One major way to win an election is by having plenty of funding, and Michael Winters has a bountiful of exactly just that. This election, which will be decided soon, I feel will come down to the wire. I’m not really into politics, but one does wonder where he’s getting all his funding and donations.

What I do know is that he’s from a very prominent political family. Will that be enough to win him the position of president? Quite possibly. Will he be as effective as a president as our present one? I seriously doubt it. But I must admit, I am curious. Also, to repeat, where’s he getting all the millions in funding and donations? He’s not keeping it a secret. That would be illegal and scandalous.

But is there a secret donor?

Michael Winters finishes his debate, and the audience cheers and applauds. Even a few diner patrons and employees applaud as well. This doesn’t look good for the President, but we’ll find out when everyone goes to the polls next week.

“I really hope this Michael Winters guy doesn’t win,” Dorian says to us.

“Why do you say that?” Kelly Marie asks him.

“I don’t know. I just have a bad feeling that he’ll ruin and destroy everything America stands for,” he replies.

I can’t help but to laugh a bit. “Typical answer coming from a war hero,” I comment.

They both chuckle at my remark.

F
ive days later, the new President, Michael Winters, addresses all his constituents. He grins from ear-to-ear and waves to everyone. He kisses his wife’s cheek and hugs his teenage son and young daughter. He seems as though he has the picture perfect life. I just hope this president stays on board with the Agency like the last one or we’re screwed. Kelly Marie and myself, at her house, watch the engagement on her seventy-two-inch flat screen television in her beautifully decorated living room. She cuddles up to me with a soft, content moan. I love every minute of it.

Since we are both Harvesters, if we had a child, it would be born as a true blood Dead One with all of our powers. And yes, we have touched on the child topic but only touched on it.

“So how do you feel about our new president?” she asks me.

“Well, if you think the way Dorian does, then we should kill him ourselves,” I reply. “Honestly though, I think he’s a good man and will be a great president,” I add on.

“If you’re going off what he has said during his campaigning, you’d be foolish to believe all his words. Everyone knows all politicians lie,” she remarks.

I kiss her forehead. “Damn, I love you,” I state.

She caringly looks up at me. “I love you too, baby,” she retorts.

“Let’s watch our redbox flick instead of this political crap,” I tell her.

“I agree. I can’t believe how long red box has been around. It came out so many years ago. Like, in 2006 or so, right?” she inquires.

“Not sure. All I know is this political stuff is making me go to sleep,” I comment.