“Hey, man…stay safe,” Alan said as Greg headed toward the awaiting van. His friend responded with a head nod as if to say You, too. Both had seen many changes in their relatively short lives. Now it felt like the weight of the world was suddenly bearing down on them. Doris was saying this was war; now one friend was missing; and the two of them were heading into danger. Alan watched as Greg left with the remaining members of Bravo Team, a formidable looking strike force. He turned to see a nearly identical looking group of soldiers waiting for him.
He’d never met any of the guys from The Nest but had reviewed all of their bios. Charlie Team consisted of six extremely capable individuals, four men, and two women. He counted only five as a large, black man walked over.
“I’m Coffee, sir,” the man said in a deep, bass voice that sent a chill up Alan’s spine.
Wilson D. Coffee, Ranger, specialist and very nearly dishonorably discharged for allegedly threatening a superior officer. Alan recalled that the charges had been dropped when no witnesses came forward to corroborate the captain’s story.
Alan shook the outstretched hand, “Good to meet you, Coffee, who’s in charge?”
The man’s face broke into a large smile. “Well, you are, sir.”
Alan immediately realized the absurdity of that statement; he was an inexperienced wiry kid compared to this battle-hardened mountain of a warrior. Captain Reardon was the de facto lead for Charlie Team, but he was apparently busy elsewhere today.
“Yeah, that’s not going to really work, is it?” Not waiting for an answer, he said, “Who is the highest-ranking member here?”
“That would be Nance, sir. She was a captain.”
Alan picked out the woman in the nearby group. “Coffee, will the team listen to her?”
The big man shook with a brief laugh, “Oh yes, sir. She scares the shit out of all of us.”
“Captain Nance, a word please.”
“Kristen Nance, sir, a pleasure,” she said walking up and extending an arm that seemed almost delicate but Alan could see was covered in military and tribal tattoos.
“Like your ink,” he said taking the proffered hand. “Look, Nance, you’re in charge, I am... hell, I don’t know, an advisor at best. This is your show while Nomad is away. You comfortable with that?”
“Absolutely, sir,” she said in a voice with a vaguely mid-western edge to it.
“We have to lose the ‘sirs,’ too. Let’s face it, I am barely old enough to drink. Call me Alan. Tell me, Captain, who’s missing?”
She turned back, momentarily looking at the team, “Akin, sir…I mean, Alan. He went to scope out the boy’s apartment. Someone from Command, Riley, I think, said they had seen some of the bad actors in the area.”
“Okay, why don’t we load up and head toward the last known location. We can bring everybody up to speed at once.”
Along the way, Alan was introduced to the rest of the team. To be honest, they all scared the shit out of him. He was relatively sure he’d never been this out of place in his entire life, but then he thought of his friend and why they were here. While their mission was to obtain the missing scientist, his real goal was to find Micah. He’d misjudged his friend’s reluctance to be part of The Cove; he’d treated him badly since then and was unsure they could even be thought of as friends anymore. Doris had stayed in touch, though; she had stayed true even if the rest of them had all but abandoned him.
The fact that Greg was headed out with the other team, with Sergeant Taylor scared him just as much. His thoughts were interrupted when one of the team members spoke up.
“Sir, are we sanctioned for this?”
Alan looked at the woman, tough as nails, but hiding just beneath was a lean, freckle-faced young woman. Pretty, with a kind of girl-next-door look. But somewhere along life’s highway, she’d decided to go completely badass warrior. “Emily?” No, shit, that wasn’t right. “Sorry, I mean, Erin. Yes, we have an official cover, but it’s thin. It will stand up to local cops, but if any feds start checking, it might fall apart.” He reached in his backpack and handed each of them lanyards with very official looking badges and photo IDs.
Erin took the badge but looked unhappy with Alan’s response. “The nation was attacked today, and we are in the capital going after individuals who may have been involved in those attacks. Chances are good we are going to get checked. At the very least, we are going to run into other agencies. All of them will be on high alert.”
He remembered she was one of the feared black ops members of the team. Erin Pickett had earned a reputation in several engagements starting with Iraq and most recently in Malaysia, where she helped disrupt a burgeoning terror cell intent on wiping out numerous Jewish and Christian places of worship. She was tough, she was smart and…she was right. He rubbed his chin and tried to think of a tactful way of saying this. Instead, Doris began speaking simultaneously to each, via the small CommDot each wore.
“Ladies and Gentlemen, we are at war, and you are the front line. Yes, you may encounter other groups out there, but they do not know what you know. You know Janus is behind this. Use those you meet, be confident, not passive. Take charge and lead. Trust me, Alan and your teammates to get you out of trouble should that occur. The main thing is keeping your eyes on the target. Doctor Jim Lasko is the closest thing we have to finding the enemy. Janus wants him dead; you need to ensure that does not happen. Is that crystal clear?”
There were several “Hooahs,” “Hooyahs,” a “Yes, ma’am,” and a lone “Oorah” came from the one former marine, Dombrowski, far in the back. Alan knew that this group, like Bravo, as well as the alternate squad still at The Nest, were all hand-picked by Doris, Charlie and Cade. Were they ready for this, though? What were they fighting for? Part of him couldn’t grasp the mindset of a professional soldier no matter how much he wanted to. Someone tells you that guy is the enemy—to kill him—and you just pull the trigger. He didn’t think he’d ever be able to do that. He hoped…he would never be in a situation like that.