The Colonel stretched his legs under his heavy wooden desk. He was lost in thought, his mind hundreds of miles away, and the forceful knocking on his office door startled him. He pulled himself up and cleared his throat to answer it, but then the door flew open. The Captain rushed in, not waiting for his call. The Colonel collected himself, got up and organised his uniform. He knew that he was not in the state he was expected to be found on duty. He watched the Captain’s face for any sign of recognition, but he could not detect anything. He wondered if his own emotional state could be read. He liked to think he could keep up appearances in the harshest of situations, but emotional turmoil was not something he was usually prepared for.
The Captain stood there, cold and unmoved, saying nothing. The Colonel reminded himself what was expected of him and reproached the Captain in a firm voice, “This is quite unacceptable! To storm into your superior’s office like that.”
“I’m sorry, Colonel,” said the Captain, but there was no trace of regret in his voice.
“You’d better have a very good reason!”
“I do, Sir. I bring important intel. The trio has moved down the tunnels. This is rather unusual, the trafficker was at first leading them off the course we would have expected him to take, only to return now.”
“Did you get any contact?”
“No, Sir, and nothing is known of his intentions.”
“Isn’t he one of those who operate underground?”
“Yes, Sir, but in the present situation, he most likely took a chance on the surface, rather than giving away vital underground HUM routes so easily. This is, of course, an unprecedented situation, so we cannot be sure how he would react, but it stands to logic that he would try and cover his tracks. Also, they already made a detour, then suddenly turned back towards the tunnels. His movements are becoming more unpredictable with every minute.”
“He has a patrolman with him. That would probably account for this sudden change,” chanced the Colonel.
“Former patrolman, Sir. He is a deserter!”
“Still, in his eyes it might just be another guard and, as such, he might not want to lead him to his resistance HQ,” said the Colonel. “This is perfectly logical, however, it is against our own interests. Make sure there is no sign of the surveillance and no engagement from any unit.
“Let the regular units know about it as well, it is a general order to stand down. Tell them we want the trio to lead us to their command. Tell them how important it is to get that intel. Tell them whatever you need, so that they will not question this decision. I want them alive, and I don’t care what you need to use to deliver them to me!”
“But, Colonel—”
“Now!” yelled the Colonel.
“Yes, Sir!”
The Captain snapped to attention and left the office with long and powerful strides.
***
He stormed out of the Colonel’s office furious and cursing under his breath. To hell with the old bastard! The Colonel reminded him of his late father, who he hated from the depths of his guts, but whom he could never oppose. His mother had married the man for a better prospect. She had thought she would be able to leave the borderlands at the side of an inlands officer, but that was not to be. His father had died, leaving her a military widow and him a young cadet, without a choice or the slightest chance to do anything else but pursue a military career. And if it was to be so, he would make the best out of it. His sudden rise through the ranks was in great part warranted by this determination.
He had always thought he would show him. His father was a Lt. Colonel when he died. He had decided, long before his father’s death, that he would rise above him in rank. It would have been the ultimate humiliation to a man for whom rank, control, and order were everything, even inside the family home. His mother was hurt so much, both physically and emotionally. His father always looked down on her, generally regarded her just another border-dweller. Despite her refined manners that pre-dated the separation of the inlands from the border territories, he had never considered her to be an equal. Her only retribution was to force him to speak French at home. She never learned English or, if she did, she pretended not to understand a word of it when his father spoke.
The Captain himself was practically non-existent in the family house as a child. His father would not have considered him a man of equal rights, being a ‘half-born’. To his father family only meant more subordinates, more people to command and order about. So he had decided at a very young age that he would rise above the man in rank one day, and show him. He would make the old man his inferior and humiliate him in front of everyone.
His admittance into the officers’ academy was mostly due to his father’s influence, and he drew great satisfaction from the fact that the only thing the man had ever done for him would furnish him with the weapon he could use to avenge himself and his mother. But before he could graduate, the old man died. Cardiac arrest, they said. Just like that. Dropped off one day, leaving him without a goal, without a target for his vengeance. Still, he had kept himself to the original plan. He had never given up his dream of becoming more than his father had been and had worked very hard to achieve this goal ever since.
His promotion to the rank of Major was so close now, he could smell it. And for this he had to put up with his father’s ways once again, only this time it was manifested in the Colonel. But he would do it. He would stand by it, because he could use him, he could use the old bastard to achieve his goals. The Colonel would help him, and he only needed to endure a little longer.
Now that their private operation was to be disbanded, he no longer needed the old fuck. This was the last time, this was the last delivery, he said so himself. This also meant that this was the last stupid, arrogant order he had to accept and follow without questioning. He would get there. And soon. He’d do it for Mother. Yes, Mother would appreciate that. She would see how much he loved her, she would see it then.
As he entered his command post, he pressed his lips tightly together to be able to better control his features. He knew his feelings were not showing. He had practised the expressionless eyes and unmoveable, stone-set face, in front of a mirror for a long time, and had always been able to use this ability to his advantage.
He got on the radio and ordered his special units to go clear—meaning to turn encryption off—as he would deliver a broadcast message. He changed back to broadband communication, signalled all units, and told them there was a change of plans. The new order was to keep a net of surveillance active, with zero engagement, but with immediate detailed reports about the fugitives’ movements filed directly to him in writing.
He then advised the commander of each unit separately to also report the movements of any other patrol units with which they came into direct contact, also in writing. This made everything official but also kept the unit leaders engaged and so overwhelmed with paperwork, they would still be busy well after all the traces were cleared up. The sheer amount of data the unit commanders would now file would make any investigation quite difficult, yet to clear up the traces could be as simple as the press of a button.
Any important information would be lost among meaningless reports, so it was safe to proceed in any event, unless of course someone tipped off the investigators. And that was not a possibility. Apart from himself, only the Colonel was aware of the extent of his own involvement and the old bastard would not turn on him, that much he knew.
This was definitely the best course of action. This could ensure that the trio survived, and that he would be informed of every move they made through a human surveillance network oblivious of its own existence, and without a clear clue of who or what exactly was being watched by whom. He felt the warmth of gratification fill him up. This was a master plan. Grand and large-scale. And he would see it through. He was a genius, and he knew it.