A New World: Conspiracy (12 page)

With more questions than answers, we all
rise and make our way to our individual cubicles. I tell Lynn I’ll
be back soon and head to where our prisoner is being held. Walking
through the interior, I feel that a heavy oppression that has
settled. These are trying times at best and the upsurge in optimism
that I hoped for by bringing Lynn back into our fold was overridden
by the loss of McCafferty. One step forward and another back. As
it’s a human tendency to dwell on the negative more than the
positive, the step back was larger than the one forward.

* * * * * *

Images flash through her mind as she strides
down the corridor. Gav watched events unfold in the control room
and pictures from the satellite video feed are firmly imprinted in
her head. Her jaw alternately clenches and relaxes as her mind
plays the video over and over like an unending reel. Her hand grips
the video disk tightly, almost to the point of snapping it. The
tightening of her muscles is due to her stress and frustration.

Her shooter was given live satellite
information – which was more than she ever received in the field –
but it proved worthless in the end as it only resulted in a miss.
In slow motion, the shot plays over and over in her head. Their
target, Jack Walker, bending down at the exact wrong moment, the
shot passing over his head. They had one chance at this and they
blew it. Part of her frustration is that she knows that if she were
there, the results would have been different – she never misses.
Gav clenches her jaw, knowing she should have been the one to go,
but her position here denied her that option. The team she sent was
a good one, and she can’t fathom why the shooter decided to go it
alone. There should have been two shooters with two spotters to
make sure the target was down. Her frustration is echoed by the
sharp clicks of her heels on the hard floor.

In her room, she slides the disk into the
player to look at the video again; although it won’t alter the
outcome no matter how many times she watches it. The video plays
through to the end, showing the capture of her shooter, the
destruction of the hospital, and the shelling of the rest of the
team. The camp’s quick reaction shows what she is up against. She
played her card and now her group’s anonymity may be in jeopardy.
The capture of the shooter makes that a real possibility. He’s a
tough one, but everyone has their breaking point. She knows this
from her years of intelligence experience. She also knows they
won’t get another opportunity like the one they had. It’s
imperative that she do something to eliminate what may now be a
larger threat.

Thoughts slide through her mind as she
stares blankly at the monitor. They could make contact and attempt
to join forces, denounce the shooter and his team and ones who went
rogue, but the timing of it would be circumspect. No, that isn’t an
option anymore. That one shot made the two encampments enemies.
Minutes slide by as she works through options. A glimmer of an idea
surfaces and she reaches for the phone to dial the control
room.

“Yes, Nahmer. What can I do for you?” the
supervisor asks, picking up on the first ring.

“Do we have the naval communication codes?”
Gav asks.

“We do. They are older codes as the download
of the latest naval databases never completed but they could still
be validated.”

“Have the codes ready. Find that sub and
inform me the moment they surface,” Gav states, hanging up before
receiving a response. She is already focused on other parts of a
plan forming in her mind.

* * * * * *

Lynn doesn’t know exactly how she feels as
she watches Jack head down the stairs. It’s been an unreal day. The
adrenaline rush and relief of being freed from captivity…followed
by the death of McCafferty. She was already exhausted, but the
extreme ups and downs have drained her even more so. She feels like
she can sleep for a week. As she stares blankly at Jack’s
retreating back, she feels her mind shutting down.

Shaking her head to clear the cobwebs, she
trudges toward her room with no other thought than to fold into a
coma-like sleep. Sinking wearily onto her cot, Lynn begins to untie
her boots when she hears a rap at the entrance.

“Come in,” she says, sliding off one of her
boots.

Drescoll enters and Lynn takes in his puffy
red eyes and tightly drawn face. He seems ill at ease and
absent-mindedly rubs his ear in a nervous fashion.

“What’s up?” she asks, knowing her long-time
friend needs someone to talk with.

She had expected this visit and wanted to
talk with him earlier but knew he would come to her when the time
was right for him. Having lost loved ones as well, she knows the
confusion, anger, and the feeling of being lost that he must be
going through.

Drescoll hesitates in a nervous fashion.
“Look, I know you’ve been through some shit and don’t need to hear
me whining.”

“Sit your ass down,” Lynn says, pulling off
her remaining boot.

“I just…just don’t know what to do. I feel
so lost. I just don’t know if I can do this anymore,” he says, his
eyes taking on a far off stare – his mind both present and away at
the same time.

“I know it’s hard, and I wish there was
something I could say that would take the pain away. All I can
really say is that I have an inkling of what you are going through,
and the best we can do is take it minute by minute. The pain may
not pass entirely, but it becomes endurable. You have to push
on…believing that things will get better. Time may not heal
completely, but it does make the loss more bearable.”

“I get that, but that is only if you have
something to live for…something that you care about. What’s to live
for, Lynn? Everything I cared about has been taken away.”

“I know it seems that way right now, but not
everything has been taken away. You still have people who care
about you and who rely on you. And, this may sound cliché, but both
you and I know that Allie would want you to carry on. Keep your
memories precious by not giving up.”

“I know all of that, but it really doesn’t
matter to me right now. This is a shitty-ass world. Allie made it
worth living in. I just don’t have it in me to do it anymore,”
Drescoll says, staring at his feet.

“You had something to live for before you
two started, so I know there’s something there. There’s your team
and our continued survival. The one thing that worked for me was to
immerse myself in the training and keep myself busy. Sometimes that
was the only thing that kept me going. I would like to say it was
Jack or something else like that, but in all honesty, that kind of
healing can only come from inside. You find something else that you
care about or that you have to do, whether you truly believe in it
or not, and you keep at it. For me, I realized that there are
others who need me on a day-to-day basis and that sustained me.
Your team and the others in this camp need you, whether you realize
it or not, they do. Let that sustain you. If you give up, then the
other side won, whether that is the night runners or those who
attacked us,” Lynn states.

Drescoll remains silent, staring at the
ground.

“I know you’re in a tremendous amount of
pain and feeling lost. No words that I say are going to make that
go away. Your actions and time will. It seems like a dark tunnel
now with no light in sight, but if you continue to march along,
that light will appear and life will regain meaning. You’ll just
have to trust me on that. And know that people look up to you and
care about you…a lot.”

“I appreciate that and know in my mind that
what you say is true. But that has so little meaning for me, and
just seems so…well…superficial,” Drescoll mumbles.

“I know it does. You’re going to feel sorrow
and anger, sometimes within minutes of each other. Each day will
get better, though. We’ve been through a lot of shit, and will
probably go through more of it, but we’ve also come a long
ways.”

“At what cost? I just don’t feel that it’s
worth it anymore.”

“The personal cost has been high for a lot
of us. But what choice do we really have but to carry on for those
we’ve lost? There is really only one real option, and that is to
survive at any cost. When that anger comes, and it will, turn that
against those who want to hurt us and toward making this a better
place. If we win, they lose and vice versa. For the moment, let the
doc give you something to sleep or you’re going to lie in agony and
the thoughts that come aren’t going to help…only make it worse.
Come on, I’ll walk you there.”

“No, that’s okay. You’ve been through a lot
already and I’m sorry to burden you more.” Drescoll turns to
leave.

“Bull-fucking–shit. You’re just feeling
sorry for yourself. I’m always here for you and always will be…as
are the others. You’re a part of us and we’re a part of you. What
happens to you happens to us. Now, come on, let’s go see the doc,”
Lynn says, slipping her boots back on.

“Thanks.”

* * * * * *

Leaving the group, I make my way down into
the storage room where we have the prisoner locked up. The
container has been set just inside the loading docks with two
guards posted next to the metal doors. Several buckets, most still
full of water, sit close by. They have instructions to keep the
shooter awake by dousing him with water every hour. Sleep
deprivation is one of the most useful tools when trying to extract
information. Many can withstand torture to an extent, but sleep
deprivation makes everything seem worse.

The guards open the doors at my request.
Inside, an arc light has been set up to make our prisoner’s stay
all the more enjoyable. He is on his knees with his arms chained
above him and seems little worse for wear. His uniform is still
soaked from water that was thrown on him earlier. He looks up at my
entrance through tired red eyes. His muscles tense with resolve at
my arrival. Yeah, this guy is no amateur.

“I hope you are enjoying our hospitality.
We’re striving to make your stay a pleasant one. We may not have
all of the amenities, but we do go all out for our guests,” I say,
squatting in front of him.

The silence he maintains is expected.

“Like I said earlier, we both know how this
game is played and how it ends. Knowing that, the only
consideration is how much do you want to endure before that
happens? The answer to that is entirely up to you. You have the
option to save yourself a lot by telling me what I want to know,” I
state.

Silence. I shrug nonchalantly.

“Alright, have it your way. It matters
little to me. I’m not the one chained up and have nothing to lose
whichever way you choose. Oh, but in other news, we have captured
some of your team. Some of them…well…didn’t make it. My sincere
apologies, mate. I know how it is to lose people, so I truly do
mean that. They just didn’t want to play nice and come along
quietly.” I watch him closely.

This triggers a reaction with a tightening
of his eyes and lips. He glares, searching for the truth in my
words.

“Well, what can I say? We’re just better.” I
shrug.

“Whatevs,” he says, finally speaking.

“I have nothing to gain by lying to you. You
understand this and therefore know that what I’m saying is the
truth.”

“I don’t believe you. If that’s true,
produce one of them,” he says.

Getting him to speak is the first step. It
really doesn’t matter what it is as long as he says something. It
opens a blockage, and once words are spoken, more are likely to
follow. It’s getting him to become comfortable with speaking. And
he did slip. ‘Whatevs’ is an Australian slang term for whatever.
So, I’m guessing he may have been Australian SAS. I won’t let on
that I suspect this as he’ll realize that he slipped and clamp down
again. It’s a game, and I’m a little rusty. I again revealed some
of his buttons though – anger and a competitive streak…pride. Of
course, who in this game isn’t competitive?

“Mate, you know I can’t do that. That’s not
part of the game and we have to play by the rules, right? You want
to play by different rules, then you come up with something to tell
me. I like it, and then you get something in return. I get
something, and then you get something. You know how this is
played,” I reply.

He looks on with a hint of confusion. It’s
obvious he’s rummy from lack of sleep and not really able to keep
up.

“Here, I tell you what, I’ll go outside the
boundaries of the fun time we’re having and show you something
first. Let’s relax and watch a movie together. I’m afraid I’m fresh
out of popcorn, but we can enjoy it nonetheless.” I open the laptop
I brought and power it up.

The screen goes through the boot up process
and I start up the recorded video from the Spooky. The house and
nearby barn are on the screen. A momentary tic on his face makes it
obvious that he knows the location.

“I thought you might recognize this place.
We found it during one of our afternoon jaunts.”

With his arms hanging above him, he looks
from the screen to me.

“No, keep watching or you’ll miss the fun
part.”

Suddenly, the doors of the barn burst open
and a Humvee emerges, racing for a nearby tree line. Another
vehicle follows shortly after. The internal radio calls asking for
permission to engage and the okay comes from the small laptop
speakers. The target reticule centers over and then ahead of the
speeding vehicle in front. Clouds of dust erupt around the Humvee.
I stop the video here and turn the screen away to fast forward to
the second vehicle as it comes under fire. I fast forward to a
place where the barn is centered in the screen. I don’t want to
show him where we gunned down his team running from the
vehicles.

A flash appears on the screen where the barn
was. Smoke, with flames embedded deep within its dark mass, boils
upward from the hit. One minute we’re watching the barn, then you
hear the words ‘round out’ and the building vanishes under an
immense, mushrooming cloud. Debris scatters outward. As the smoke
surges toward the camera, pieces of the barn begin falling to the
ground. The screen shifts to the house in time to see the second
round hit it. I press stop with pieces of the house still hitting
the ground.