The Fey (2 page)

The Secretary of State shifted his watch to
show a black scripted F tattooed to the inside of his right
wrist.

“
Yes, Admiral, I am aware
of their success.”

“
I thought so,” the
Admiral said.

“
There are no known
hostages in Europe,” the Secretary of Defense said. “And the Jakker
is not talking. We have no idea why they were in Paris. We need a
cover story.”

“
We’ve taken care of that.
The French know the truth.” The CIA Director shrugged. “The rest of
the world believes that the team was killed in Afghanistan. But
I’ll tell you. In the last ten days, we’ve heard from almost every
warlord in Afghanistan, including the Taliban. They are shocked,
upset and not one claims responsibility for the attack. If Afghani
warlords had Internet access? We’d be in big trouble.”

“
What do we do about the
French?” the Secretary of State asked.

“
My brother works in
French government,” the non-descript man said. He continued tapping
a cigarette against the table. “He has smoothed any ruffled
feathers. At this moment, there is no record that the Fey or her
team were ever in Paris.”

“
I didn’t know elite
intelligence agents had brothers,” the Secretary of Defense said
looking at the non-descript man. “Well done, Ben.”

“
Thank you, sir,” Ben
replied. He set the cigarette down on the table. “Do we have any
idea why they were….”

“
Murdered?” the Admiral
finished Ben’s statement. “No. We have no idea. Who called you to
warn you?”

“
Someone who is no longer
living.”

The Admiral looked at Ben. His distaste for
spies, CIA, FBI, Homeland Security, even Military Intelligence,
showed on his face. Amused, Ben raised his eyebrows at the
Admiral.

“
And the vault?” Patrick
Hargreaves asked. His voice broke the tension between his best
friend and the head of Special Forces.

“
We’ll continue trying to
get in, but it doesn’t look good,” the Secretary of Defense said.
“There is a note in Captain O’Brien’s file that says: ‘Only the Fey
has access to storage.’”

“
The note was made
by?”

“
The notation was made
five days prior to the assault. By the Fey.”

“
If she doesn’t survive….”
Patrick Hargreaves’ voice caught with emotion.

“
When Alexandra is well,”
Ben said, “she will stop at nothing to find out what
happened.”

“
So we wait?” the
Secretary of Defense asked.

“
We already have a cover,”
the Admiral said. “We will stick with the story until we know one
way or the other. I will not waste any more time on ‘what ifs’. In
the meantime, I’ve been authorized to create a memorial for the Fey
Special Forces Team at Fort Logan National Cemetery. How will we
protect the survivors?”

“
Agent Rasmussen has
created a new identity for the Fey,” Ben said. “She is Alyssa
Kreiger, orphan, married to John Drayson. Senator Hargreaves had a
son named Alexander instead of a daughter named Alexandra.
Alexander was killed in the assault.”

“
She’ll work for me,”
Colonel Howard Gordon spoke for the first time, “at Military
Intelligence in Colorado. We are creating a cartography team for
her.”

“
She’s already remapped
most of Afghanistan,” the Secretary of Defense said. His eyes
flicked to her father.

“
Alex likes to work with
maps,” Patrick said. “Ever since she was a small child, she’s loved
maps… stars… her twin….”

His voice caught. The great General
Hargreaves gulped back his emotion.

“
We agree then that she
won’t be discharged?” the Secretary of Defense asked.

“
She is a welcome addition
to our team,” Colonel Gordon said. “We will do everything in our
power to keep her safe.”

“
She is still
contractually obligated to continue working in US Intelligence,”
the CIA director said.

“
So you ARE holding her to
that Goddamn contract.” Patrick spit the words at the CIA Director.
“You don’t give a shit about her. You just want your
prize.”

“
She is a valuable asset
that we are extremely unwilling to….”

“
Alexandra will continue
working under me as Agent Rasmussen’s partner,” Ben
said.

“
And Captain Walter?” the
Secretary of Defense asked. He tried veering away from the topic
they had spent the last hour arguing about.

“
Captain Walter is on six
months leave,” the Admiral said. “He was due to re-join the team in
three weeks.”

“
Captain Walter and his
family are in the process of being relocated to rural Colorado,”
the FBI Director said with force. While these men argued over
details, his agents were doing the actual work. “They will be
settled by the end of the week.”

“
And Robert Powell?” the
Secretary of Defense asked.

“
The Boy Scout?” The
Admiral asked. “He was not with the team at the time of the
assault. He is currently in Nicaragua.”

“
A guest of the CIA?” the
Secretary of State asked.

The CIA Director nodded.

“
Healing from his
fictitious wounds. He was only with the team for a little more than
five months,” the Admiral said. “He will receive a long term
assignment, probably in Northern Afghanistan.”

“
You’re burying him in
Afghanistan?” The Secretary of Defense asked.

“
I prefer ‘keeping an eye
on,’ but yes, we are burying the Boy Scout in
Afghanistan.”

“
Anyone know where he was
at the time of the assault?” Patrick asked.

“
Ben?” The CIA Director
asked.

“
Rumors.”

“
Could he have done this?”
The Secretary of Defense asked.

Everyone in the room turned to look at Ben.
Ben’s eyes focused on the cigarette which he was once again tapping
against the table.

“
Ben?” The Admiral
asked.

Ben looked up and shrugged.

“
Killed everyone? No.
Involved? Probably.” Ben nodded his head. “Yes, I believe he was
involved.”

The men digested the information in
silence.

“
What’s left?” Patrick
said moving to get up. “I need to be with my daughter, my
family.”

“
One thing,” the Admiral
said. The scripted “F” tattoo on his right shoulder burned as if he
received it yesterday.

“
We protect the Fey. No
matter what. We protect the Fey. With any luck, she’ll return to
what she does best. With any luck….”

The men nodded in unison.

FFFFFF

Three weeks later

November 12 – 12:15 P.M.

Walter Reed Hospital

Washington DC

“
Go to lunch,” Alex
whispered to her worried husband.

Dr. John Drayson kneeled next to her bed.
His cobalt blue eyes held her brown eyes while his hand stroked her
face. He and her identical twin, Max Hargreaves, had been by her
side since she arrived at Walter Reed.

The doctors’ predictions were horrifying.
Don’t expect much. She may not recognize you. She won’t be the
person you knew. Five days ago she opened her eyes, looked into
John and Max’s worried faces and laughed. Beyond anyone’s guess,
she was her smart, funny, mischievous self.

She just didn’t remember the last six months
of her life.

“
I…” he
started.

“
Trying to control
everything?” she raised an eyebrow.

“
Me?” he laughed.
“Never.”

“
Come on, John,” Max said.
“She wants to play cards.”

“
How can you say that?”
Alex exclaimed. Looking up at her twin, her eyes danced with
laughter.

“
Liar,” Max
replied.

“
I…. I am a wounded
veteran. Have some respect!”

At that moment, the door opened and Sergeant
Matthew Mac Clenaghan came into the room. Tall and thin, his dark
hair was shorn in a military haircut. He looked like an accountant
or maybe a lawyer, not a Special Forces officer.

“
Are you guys off to
lunch?” Matthew asked.

“
I guess so,” John said.
He ruffled his dark curly hair then leaned over the bed to kiss
Alex on the lips. “Sixty minutes. Don’t die.”

“
I can’t move. There are
guards with machine guns at my door. What could happen?”

“
I’ll walk you out,”
Matthew said. “I’ll be right back, gimp.”

Alex laughed.

Max held her hands for a moment. Their brown
eyes held and they smiled matching smiles. Letting go of her hands,
he followed John out of the room.

“
She still doesn’t know?”
Matthew asked.

“
No, she does not know
that her team is dead,” John said.

Matthew looked up to nod “Hello” to Sergeant
Troy Olivas as he pushed open the door to Alex’s hospital room.

“
We need to tell
her.”

“
When she’s better,” John
said, “stronger. You will not tell her.”

Matthew nodded.

“
Enjoy your
lunch.”

“
You’ll call if…” John
started.

“
Of course,” Matthew said
giving his most reassuring smile.

Matthew waited until John and Max were down
the hall before he returned to the room. He spoke with the two Army
soldiers guarding the door then pushed the door open.

Sitting on Alex’s bed, Troy entertained her
with finger puppets. He was in the middle of a nonsensical love
story about Enrique and Frieda. Alex giggled at his funny voices
and the ridiculous story.

From the moment they met at Special Forces
training, Troy and Matthew were best friends. They agreed on one
thing. Neither Troy nor Matthew liked the woman in their midst.
Less than two months later, Alex’s easy smile, gentle wit, as well
as her willingness to drag them through training, won them over.
The three soldiers had been friends ever since.

“
Is Jesse coming for
cards?” Alex beamed at Matthew.

Troy caught her attention again with the
squealing voice of Frieda the finger puppet. Frieda’s heart was
breaking and Enrique, the brute, did not care.

“
You get us instead,”
Sergeant Andrew “Trece” Ramirez said coming through the door.
“We’re a poor substitute for Jesse but the White Boy never
wins.”

A muscular man with a barrel chest,
twenty-inch arms and a small waist, Trece held the door for an
equally large man with almost albino skin. Trece carried a white
bakery box while the other man carried a dozen large
sunflowers.

“
We brought donuts and
flowers,” Sergeant Christopher “White Boy” Blanco said. “Trece? Can
you get the china?”

Trece winked at Alex causing the empty
teardrop tattoo under his left eye to fold into his coffee colored
skin. Setting the donut box on Alex’s bedside tray, he went into
the bathroom for paper towels and Dixie cups. When the bathroom
door swung closed, and Matthew bent to pick something up, the White
Boy pulled a DVD case out of his inside jacket pocket.

“
I got the movie,” the
White Boy whispered.

He gave her a
copy of Walt Disney’s
Pinocchio
. She tucked
the movie under her sheets. The White Boy sneered at Troy who
shrugged. Hearing Trece return, the White Boy became very busy
setting the sunflowers into her plastic water pitcher.

“
Oh gee, what shall we
drink?” Matthew asked. He stood up holding up a bottle of Irish
Whiskey. “But none for you, missy.”

“
You are so mean!” Alex
exclaimed.

Crossing her arms across her chest, she
pretended to pout. The men laughed at her efforts. Trece returned
from the bathroom with Dixie cups and napkins. Matthew poured the
whiskey.

“
Can you help me sit up?”
she asked.

“
Sure. Get up
Troy.”

“
We’re in the middle of
the story!” Troy exclaimed. “How will we know if Enrique and Frieda
are meant for each other?”

“
Oh God,” Matthew
said.

“
Hey, if little Troy wants
to put on a show, then I think we should watch,” Trece said. He
crossed his arms and leaned back on his hip. “Go ahead. We like to
be entertained by the little people of the world.”

Alex laughed at the idea of six foot tall
Troy as a “little” person. Alex met Trece and the White Boy when
they sat down next to Jesse in the dining hall in Bosnia. The four
soldiers were inseparable the rest of the tour in Bosnia. Even
after Alex and Jesse went on to be Green Berets, and Trece and the
White Boy moved into a unit that worked in government security,
they remained fast friends.

“
Go ahead, little man,”
the White Boy said. He looked up from the donut box. “Alex, you
want the chocolate sprinkle?”

Alex nodded and took the donut from the
White Boy.

Troy, flustered by the attention, stood from
the bed. Glancing back, he saw that Alex was laughing at him. He
smiled in return and slipped the puppets into his pocket.

From the waist down, Alex was a freak show
of gauze, tubes, tape and wire. Her left hip all but destroyed. No
one knew if she would walk again. Trece and Matthew, one on each
side, lifted Alex to sitting. The men looked away when she grunted
with pain. She smiled when she was situated. Then the DVD case fell
on the floor.