Rogue Operator (19 page)

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Authors: J Robert Kennedy

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BOOK: Rogue Operator
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“Wh-what
are you talking about?

“Get
up,” said the man, flicking his fingers. Chris reached up and took the man’s
hand, and was hauled to his feet.

“Sherrie!”
he yelped, turning toward where he had seen her fall.

“Can
someone get me a blanket or something?”

There
was no pain in her voice, and the man who had helped him up tossed a blanket
from the back of the couch onto the floor. Sherrie jumped up, wrapping it
around her, her bout of sudden modesty confusing Chris even further.

“Will
someone tell me what the hell is going on here?” he demanded, anger mixing with
fear.

“This
was all a test,” said Sherrie as she rounded the couch, then, patting his
cheek. “Well, most of it was.” She winked, and disappeared down the hallway
toward her bedroom.

“Get
dressed,” said the man. “The Director wants to see you.”

Chris
gripped the back of the couch with both hands, trying to calm the drummer in
his chest, and focus his swimming vision. He was alive. Sherrie was alive and
unhurt.

He had
just survived a test, and now the Director wanted to see him.

This
makes no sense!

“What
kind of test?”

“The
Director wanted to know if you’d break under pressure, and you didn’t.”

“But
why?”

The man
shrugged. “You’ll have to ask him that.”

“But
wouldn’t someone who wants information from me just torture me?”

The man
smiled at his companions. “Are you asking us to continue the test?” There were
chuckles, and even Chris had to laugh as he pushed himself away from the couch
and stood up straight, taking the shirt that was being held out by one of the
men.

“What I
mean is, isn’t the test incomplete?”

“She
tempted you sexually, and you resisted, which, if you ask me, is
unbefuckinlievable, then we scared the shit out of you, and you didn’t break,
then we made you think we were torturing a woman you cared about, and you still
didn’t break, but gave us a little info that you thought might satisfy us. The
only thing left was to torture you.” The man leaned in and lowered his voice.
“And trust me, if that were the next step? Pretty much everyone breaks
eventually, so there’s no point in testing you on that.”

“But why
is it necessary?”

“I’m
guessing that whatever the Director has in mind for you, he thinks it could end
in a situation similar to this.”

Chris
grabbed the back of the couch again.

All I
wanted was to go on a date, and maybe get a kiss goodnight!

 

 

 

 

International Cooperation Center, Somewhere in North Korea

Three Days after the Kidnappings

 

The door burst open as Phil hit the ground, Carl on top of him,
wailing punch after punch on their friend. Jason simply sat there, not sure
whether or not he should jump in and add to the blows, or stop it.

He was
saved the decision by the handlers.

Carl was
grabbed and held tight by two of the handlers, as the third picked Phil up off
the floor. Phil seemed none the worse for wear, having shielded himself from
the blows by curling into a ball and covering his head with his arms and hands.
The only blow that seemed to have landed was the initial one. As well, Jason
had to admit Carl wasn’t exactly the physical type, so any punches probably
weren’t very hard.

Phil
dusted himself off, then straightened his tie, sitting back down in his chair.
Carl was pushed down into his own, and the handlers stepped back, but didn’t
leave the room.

Phil
smiled. “I guess I deserved that.”

“You
deserved a lot more!” spat Carl, leaning forward but not leaving his chair.

Phil’s
eyes for a moment seemed to convey genuine regret, and a hint of self-doubt.
Jason had known him longer than he had known anyone besides his parents, and
could read him like a book, or at least he thought he could. He had had no
inkling this defection was in the offing. But the moment was fleeting, as Phil
looked at his handler, the plastic smile cracking slightly.

Phil
looked at Jason.

“I think
we need to move beyond what I did, and why. I always realized, we
all
always realized”—he looked at his handler, the last comment apparently meant to
remind the North Korean—“that you wouldn’t agree to this, and wouldn’t want to
be a part of it. And that’s fine. The point is, you’re here now, your families
are here now, and it’s too late to do anything about it. So now we have to move
forward. The sooner we get the work done, the sooner we can all go home. Rich.”

“And
traitors,” mumbled Carl.

Phil
ignored him.

“So what
do you say, Jason? Shall we finish our life’s work, and go home to enjoy the
rewards that go with it?”

Jason
knew there was no point arguing, especially with the three handlers, or guards,
in the room. And he realized he had no choice. He knew these barbarians
wouldn’t hesitate to hurt or kill his family to make him do their bidding. All
he could hope for was rescue, and if that weren’t possible, that the North
Koreans would honor their commitment when the work was completed.

The
work!

It
terrified him. There was so much potential for good, but in the hands of the
North Koreans? The thought of them having this technology sent his stomach into
a tailspin. The only good thing he could see in their situation, was that their
Supreme Leader, or whatever the hell their latest in that insane family called
himself, loved himself too much to die. Which meant they were probably safe
from him actually unleashing the weapon on the world until it was safe to do
so.

And that
was the key. They had to correct the problem that had happened in the lab, and
make it so that it could never happen again, intentionally or accidentally.

Jason
looked at the still fuming Carl, then at Phil.

“I don’t
see that we have a choice.” He stood up. “The sooner we get started, the sooner
we can go home.” He looked straight at Carl, his friend’s expression one of
shock that he would agree so easily, then realization that there was no point
in continuing, and if there was any hope, it would be found outside of this
room, and away from prying eyes. Carl stood.

“Agreed.
Let’s get the job done and go home.”

Jason
turned to his handler.

“So,
what are the rules outside of this building?”

“You are
residents of the town, free to go about your daily lives as you wish. The town
is fenced in for your protection”—
Yeah right!—
“and there is a curfew
from eleven at night to six in the morning. We expect you to be ready for work
at seven each morning, to be returned home at five, Monday through Friday. Your
children will go to the local school, your wives will remain at home and take
care of the household.”

“Our
wives are used to working. They’re Western women. They will need something more
to do than just cook and clean for the next year.”

“Your
wives will do what they are told!”

The
forced, practiced smile, seemed to be cracking under an apparent frustration
with Western values.

“You’ve
never met my wife,” said Carl, looking at Jason.

“Make
them cooperate, otherwise they are no longer useful.”

Carl began
to jump from his chair, shouting, “What the hell is that—” before Phil
interrupted, pushing Carl back into his seat.

“I’m
sure we all understand, and there will be no problem,” said Phil, trying to
restore calm. Jason said nothing, realizing the futility of the situation, but
he was concerned if Carl didn’t calm down, he might get them all killed. Jason
decided to change the topic from spouses, to work.

“Where
will we work?”

Phil’s
handler shifted his attention, the practiced smile restored, and held out his
arm, indicating a door he had noticed before, but paid no attention to.

“Through
here, if you please.”

Jason’s
handler opened the door and stepped inside, holding the door for the others.
Jason entered first, gasping.

“It’s
our lab!”

 

 

 

 

Leif Morrison Residence, River Oaks Drive, Mclean, Virginia

Today, Five Days after the Kidnappings

 

Kane looked at the woman he had been just introduced to as Sherrie
White. She was gorgeous, and if his buddy Chris had managed to resist her
pulling out all the stops, Chris just might be a better man than he. He looked
at Chris, who seemed a little paler than his usually pale self. Every time Kane
saw him, which was infrequent, he told the poor kid to get some sunlight. It
would improve his mood and make him look better to the ladies. He felt bad for
the guy. He knew Chris had probably fallen for this girl hook line and sinker,
and now he had found out it was all bullshit.

Then he
remembered the one-sided conversation he had heard.
I don’t care if you like
him.
Maybe the girl actually was into him.
Way to go, Chris!
It was
too bad though that she was most likely an agent. It meant there was no future
for them, not that Chris would ever trust her again.

Director
Morrison pointed to a couch, and Chris sat down, with Sherrie sitting right
next to him. Chris tried to move further into the corner, to no avail.

“I’m
sorry we had to put you through that, Mr. Leroux.”

Chris
shrugged, but didn’t say anything. Kane’s well trained eye knew his friend was
humiliated and ashamed. And he didn’t blame him. What had been done to him was
equivalent to a high school prank, setting up someone with a girl, then jumping
out of the closet or the next room, laughing and pointing.

He felt
for the guy.

Morrison
thankfully continued, ending the awkward silence.

“As you
may have figured out by now, you stumbled upon something you weren’t supposed
to know about, which is why I told you to back off, but of course, you, like
your friend Dylan, here, don’t always follow orders.” Morrison sighed. “Perhaps
that’s why you’re both two of my best assets.” Morrison pointed at Kane. “Don’t
get any ideas. That wasn’t a license for mayhem, it was a compliment.”

Kane
smiled and gave his best “who me?” expression.

“Uh
huh.” Morrison didn’t seem convinced, but he continued, filling Chris and the
female agent, Sherrie White, in on everything he and Kane had been discussing.
When brought up to speed, Chris seemed to have visibly relaxed, having even
lost his aversion to Sherrie, he no longer pressed into the couch corner,
rather now leaning forward, eagerly absorbing everything, occasionally
exchanging awestruck glances with Sherrie and Kane. With everybody read in,
Kane knew it was time for the bombshell question that Morrison had been saving.

“Chris,
I need your help.”

“Of
course, sir.”

“It
could be dangerous.”

Chris
nodded. “I understand.”


Very
dangerous,” said Kane. “Like you could meet your maker type stuff.”

Chris
gulped. “I understand.”

He
didn’t sound as confident the second time.

Morrison
scowled at Kane.

“Which
is why I’m assigning Agent White to be with you at all times. She will protect
you, and there will be a detail nearby as well. We’ll keep you safe. All I need
from you is that brain. I need you to go through the intel; anything and
everything we’ve got access to, you do too. I need to find out about that
chopper, the transport plane, BlackTide, everything. Who does it all link back
to? If we can find out the who, then maybe we can find out the why. But until
we bring them down, we have to assume we’re all at risk. So until further
notice, you two are a couple.”

Sherrie
squealed in delight and threw her arms around Chris, hugging him and pecking
him on the cheek. “Now you get to know the real me!”

Chris
didn’t seem thrilled with the idea, but he also didn’t seem too repulsed by it
either.

He just
blushed.

Morrison
ignored the display, and turned to Kane.

“Kane, I
need you—”

“In
North Korea, I know. Sanctioned?”

Morrison
shook his head.

“Right
now you’re a rogue operator suspected in the killings of three CIA agents, and
one BlackTide contractor. We’re going to keep it that way. If anyone tracks
you, they’ll think you’re on the run, and where better to run than your
familiar stomping grounds of Asia. Do you need anything from us?”

Kane
shook his head. “Nope. Just a code name for when I call for extraction.”

“Extraction
from inside North Korea most likely won’t be possible.”

Kane had
figured that would be the case. “Never mind then. If I can get out of there, I
can get out of anywhere. You’ll hear from me on that”—he pointed at the
Director’s cellphone sitting beside the second empty beer bottle—“when I’ve
completed the mission. If you don’t hear from me, I’m dead.”

“Understood,”
said Morrison, standing up and extending his hand. Kane rose and took it. “And
good luck.”

“Thank
you, sir.” He nodded to Chris. “I’d like to talk to my friend before I leave.”

“Of
course.” Chris rose from the couch, as did Sherrie. “One more thing, Dylan.
You’re rogue. If I’m being watched, you can’t be seen just walking out of here.”

Kane
smiled from half his mouth. “I had a funny feeling you were going to say that.”
He took Chris into the kitchen. “How ya holding up?”

Chris
shrugged. “Okay, I guess.”

“A
little pissed?”

A head
shake. “No. Embarrassed? Yup.”

“Hey,
we’ve all been played, me more times than I care to count. Easiest way to get
past it is to focus on the fun part of what happened, and forget the rest.”
Kane lowered his voice and leaned in. “And she looks like she’d be a lot of
fun.”

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