The Fate Of Nations: F.I.R.E. Team Alpha: Book One (42 page)

              “Sounds good so far,” McNamara observed.

              “Yes,” Carter continued. ”But we made a mistake; we told higher command what we were going to do.”

              “And the micro-managers struck again,” McNamara predicted.

              “Right gain,” Carter said. “When our headquarters found out that we were hit that big-assed armory, they decided that instead of blowing up what we didn’t take, we should capture the armory and hold it while the munitions were loaded onto helicopters. The idea was that they would use those munitions to equip all of the partisan and militia units operating in the southern United States.”

              McNamara Chuckled, “If there was that much shit to load, you’d have to hold the place for hours. That’s crazy.”

              Williams nodded, “We thought so,” he said.

              “Anyway,” Carter continued. “They decided to drop a company of rangers in to do the actual assault. Our partisans were just supposed to be backup and help the rangers hold the place while the choppers were loaded. Pope was in command of the rangers.”

              “I don’t remember seeing a ranger tab on his uniform,” McNamara said. “What the hell was he doing leading rangers?”

              “His daddy used his influence to get him the command,” Carter replied.

              “Why?” McNamara asked.

              “Well,” Carter said. “Pope was a major at the time. But, even after serving in an infantry unit for almost ten years; four of those during the Amazonian War, he had never seen action. That wouldn’t look so good on his record when he was up for promotion, or later when he ran for office. I think that he wanted to get in on a small, relatively safe operation where he didn’t really have to do much. That way, he could truthfully say he was a combat veteran.”

              McNamara chuckled. “So he basically wanted to pad his resume’”

              “That’s about right,” Carter confirmed.

              “OK, I’ve got to hear the rest of the story,” McNamara prompted.

              Carter took a breath. “The plan was for the rangers to assault the rear of the armory compound, while half or our partisans held the perimeter, and half formed a reserve force that could back up the rangers in the assault or respond to any counter attack. I commanded the perimeter force, Brandon had the reserve force.”

              “Sensible enough,” McNamara said.

              “We, thought so,” Carter agreed. “But, when the rangers made their assault, Pope froze up, and everything went to shit.”

              “There was a one-hundred meter killing zone around the armory. This was surrounded by a triple layer fence.” Williams said, continuing the story. “As the rangers advanced, they were fired upon by heavy machine guns and infantry. Colonel Pope panicked, threw himself into a shallow depression that was approximately half way across the killing zone, and ordered the rangers to halt as well.”

              “He halted in the middle of an assault over open ground; was he nuts?” McNamara asked.

              “No,” Carter said; “Just cowardly.”

              “The rangers were being slaughtered. Finally, the ranger’s real company commander, Barry
Macek, rallied his remaining men and continued the assault,” Williams continued. “I had already 

moved my reserve force up and we joined Macek to take the armory. By this time, no one could find Pope.”

              “Pope was caught by my perimeter force, without his rifle, trying to get out of the combat area,” Carter said.

              “What a son of a bitch,” McNamara said.

              “The mission was a success,” Williams added, “But nearly half of the rangers were killed.”

              “Macek charged Pope with an article 99, cowardice in the face of the enemy, and an investigation was begun.” Carter went on. “But Pope’s Daddy came to the rescue and kept him from being arrested and he was allowed to continue on duty as an intelligence officer until his trial.”

              McNamara shook his head. “Unbelievable,” he said.

              Carter nodded his agreement. “A few weeks later, Macek was leading a deep reconnaissance patrol in New Mexico. The patrol was ambushed by a force three times its size. Barry Macek was killed along with eighteen other rangers. Pope was the intelligence offer that called for that patrol to be sent out.”

              “Son of a bitch,” McNamara hissed.

              “Without Macek as a witness, the case against Pope fell apart. The best the JAG lawyers could do was charge him with dereliction of duty. And, thanks to Daddy once again, the only punishment he received was a punitive letter of reprimand. That’s kept him from getting promoted above Colonel, and away from a lot of really influential postings, but that’s all the punishment he’s gotten. Brandon and I were given direct orders by the Secretary of the Army not to talk about it. Having the son of a cabinet official accused of cowardice publically would be bad for national moral; they said. ”

              “The bastard should have been shot,” McNamara said. “Maybe we should grab him and let some of Macek’s ranger buddies have few hours of quality time with Pope.”

              “Pope almost certainly has political ambitions after the war. He also knows that Douglas and I would never permit him to be elected to political office; even if that meant facing court martial.”

              “So he rats out the teams during Swift Sword to get you two,” McNamara reasoned. “The rest of us were just collateral damage.”

              “That’s about it,” Carter confirmed.

              “But why take out the teams in the Urals?” McNamara asked

              “What do you think Monica would have done if she knew that Pope was responsible for me getting killed?” Carter asked.

              McNamara nodded his understanding. “She wouldn’t have given a shit about proof. She’d have walked right up to him and shot him in the face.”

              “Pope had to compromise both of the Ural teams or it would have looked suspicious,” Williams said.

              “That’s right,” Carter agreed.

              “But you two are still alive, and Pope has to figure that you’ll tell everyone in the teams what he did,” McNamara observed. “He has to know that we’ll be coming for him.”

              “I’m sure he does,” Carter said.

             
“We have no proof of what he did,” Williams said.

              Carter’s body tensed. “Then we find proof,” he said. “Mac, you know about a thousand NCOs in every branch of service. I want you to reach to your buddies; some of them are in position to get the information we need.”

              “You’ve got it, Boss,” the Canadian agreed.

              Carter turned to Williams. “Brandon, you were raised in the Ivy League, and that’s where the intelligence community does their recruiting. Reach out to your friends and see what they can find out for us.” Williams nodded his consent.

              “We’ll get our proof. We’ll make sure pope is who compromised us,” Carter declared.

              “And then what?” McNamara asked.

              “Then we deal with Pope ourselves; within the teams,” Carter said. “This time his daddy doesn’t get to come to the rescue.”

"We’ve got no problem with that, Boss," McNamara confirmed. “But if we find proof that bird-colonel who’s the son of an undersecretary of defense is a coward, a murderer, and a traitor there will be one hellacious political shit storm.”

Carter looked the Canadian in the eye. “We’ll my friend; we may just have to kill a few politicians too.”

            [][][]

Having removed himself from the informal wake that Mary Hicks was hosting, Carter found himself studying a pair of robins that had nested in a birdhouse suspended in a poplar tree. Both parents were fluttering around the nest; the male bring materials for the nest while the female did the actual construction.

Soon there would be eggs in that nest, and then chicks. Soon there would be a family. He stood on the Hick’s back porch, watching the two birds busily preparing their home. He was unsure how to interpret what he was sure was seemed to be some kind of metaphor.     

Okesa Nagura watched him through the sliding glass doors of the Hicks’ home. She took step toward him and stopped. She wanted to comfort him. She wanted to be comforted by him. Paralyzed by apprehension, she found that she could not go to him. With Monica dead and her own feelings toward Carter known to him, she feared that her intentions might be misinterpreted. She cursed herself for her indecisiveness.

"You should go to him, dear," Mary Hicks said, coming to stand beside Nagura.

"But perhaps he wants to be alone," Nagura said, unsure of her own excuse.

The older woman took Nagura's hand. "He doesn’t", she assured Nagura. "He may think he does; but he doesn't."

Nagura's voice became a near whisper. "What if it is too soon?"

"Because he knows that you love him?"Hicks asked. Nagura turned away from watching Carter and looked at Hicks; surprise evident on her face along with embarrassment.

"Monica told me about the talk the two of you had about Doug," Hicks explained.

Nagura let out a long breath. "I do not want him to think I'm trying to replace Monica."

"He won't think that," Hicks said assuringly. "I know Doug. He’ll probably be more worried about you than himself; that's how he is." Nagura held Hicks gaze; searching for more encouragement. "Go on, Dear; it will be alright."

The two women shared an embrace. Nagura took a deep, courage gathering, breath and then moved purposefully toward Carter. She hesitated briefly as she approached, but then moved up beside him, and took his arm; nestling her cheek into his shoulder.

Neither spoke. Carter turned to her and fixed her eyes with his. Satisfied with what he saw there, he wiped a tear from her cheek with his thumb and turned back to studying the nesting birds. Nagura nestled close to him again, smiling slightly as she watched the robins go about their domestic construction; happily unconcerned about the wars of men. She still had hope that Carter would come to love her as she loved him. But, for now she would simply be a companion while he grieved. He had accepted her intentions as honest and selfless; he had accepted her. For now, that was enough.

       
Chapter 13

            
 
Richard Pope could feel his father's disapproval radiating off of the older man like waves of heat. It made the already uncomfortably warm atmosphere in the limousine feel truly oppressive. Arthur Pope was not a man who forgave easily and his son had come asking for forgiveness. The flickering light from the windows cast by the streetlights as the car moved through the rain-drenched streets bathed the older man in fluctuating shadows that made him seem to pass between the physical plain and the ethereal. Barely visible in the deeper shadows, his signature dark business suit made his body seem to be a part of those shadows. Darkness, his natural element, enfolded him like a cloak.

A smothering silence had been maintained since they had left a celebration honoring everyone involved in Operation Swift Sword twenty minutes earlier. The rain provided by the typically erratic Ohio weather only added to the torment throughout an evening that, for the younger Pope, had been an exercise in anxiety. Throughout the night his dress uniform seemed to become progressively more restrictive. The presence of so many battle tested soldiers made him, and everyone else at the event, keenly aware that he, himself, had failed the test of combat.

He had congratulated Cater; even shaken his hand for the sake of appearances. But no amount of forced military courtesy could mask the mutual hatred the two men felt for each other. In Carter’s eyes, Richard Pope had seen his own death. 

"I had to take the opportunity to eliminate Carter and Williams," he said, desperately hoping that his father would reply and end the maddening silence. The elder Pope only continued to stare out of the window. "They know what happened in Texas," he continued, hoping to, at least, elicit a rebuke from his father. "Texas has already set my career back by years. Those two sanctimonious bastards will never let me make general or be elected to office.

Arthur Pope turned to look at his son. His eyes were so heavily cast in shadow that they appeared as deep, black holes in his face. "They haven't spoken about the Texas incident in all of these years because they were ordered not to,” he said in an exasperated hiss.

"But they will never let me get into a position of real influence," the younger man argued."They would both gladly face court martial to prevent that. If I don't advance in some way, the group will replace me."

Arthur Pope turned back to the window. "It may already be too late to prevent that."

Richard Pope's voice involuntarily gained pitch. "Father, you know what that means."

"Richard, you are a coward, and you are weak,” the older man said impassively."The group does not tolerate such things, and neither do men like Douglas Carter. The problem with what tried to do in Brussels is not that you tried to kill your enemies; or even that you failed. The problem is that you acted sloppily and out of fear. Besides that, you killed over twenty other paranormal operators that would have been useful, if unwitting, assets to the group’s agenda.”