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    JamesSavik
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 

Case:Black - 35. Chapter 35

Denver FEMA Headquarters

July 16/17, 2017 2315MST / 0115 CST

 

“Agent McGrath, wake up sir!”

McGrath was sleeping in an empty conference room. He wasn’t sure exactly where he was or who the intense young man in a rumpled suit was trying to wake him.

He sat up and mumbled, “What’s up?”

“Sir, I’ve got orders to get you on a plane.”

McGrath shook his head like a dog shaking off water, stood up and asked, “Where too?”

“Above my pay grade sir but they said get you there ASAP.”

He picked up his duffle bag and followed the young man out of the conference room to an elevator down to the garage. As they walked, the man handed McGrath a sealed envelope.

“I was instructed to give you this and tell you that you will be briefed en route to the plane.”

When the elevator doors opened, a Humvee with FEMA markings was waiting with two people inside.

He opened the door to get on the back seat and discovered that the shadowy figure in the back seat was a woman.

McGrath said, “Holy shit Sarah.”

Sarah Shepherd arched and eyebrow and said, “it’s good to see you too Scott. Get in, we’re on the clock.”

McGrath tossed his duffel behind the seat, got in and the driver took off into the mostly empty streets of Denver.”

Shepherd was a few years younger than McGrath but she was all Agency. In the old days they had chased Russian spooks all over three continents.

She didn’t waste any time and got right to the point, “I’m glad you’re back on the team and available for this Op Scott. I know you haven’t been in the field for years but I know you can handle it.”

McGrath said, “I’m not sure what my role in this thing is Sarah. I just spent the lion’s share of the day briefing in people from the whole alphabet on Pandora. “

Sarah said, “As of this moment, you’re on my team. NSA just got a line on where one of the strike teams is hiding in Mexico City.”

McGrath said, “So it’s a snatch and grab?”

Sarah’s eyes sparkled, “Oh, nothing as crude as that. When President Harrison went to the Case Black protocol, it sparked a reaction overseas. A number of countries canceled inbound flights from all of the Americas. One of the strike teams got stranded there when their flight was canceled. They reached out to their handler who got in touch with one of the Cartels in Mexico City. Somebody just booked four tickets online for the 5am AirFrance flight out of Mexico City to Paris.”

McGrath said, “That’s crap tradecraft.”

Sarah nodded and said, “They had to put something together on the fly. They knew that we, or at least our DEA, was there in Mexico City and didn’t want to stay too long. They thought, and rightly so in oh so many ways, that our tail was tied in a knot and that we couldn’t put something together on the fly.”

“So Sarah”, McGrath asked, “what is the play?”

“You are going as an Air Marshall. We let everybody board the plane then out in middle of the Caribbean the pilots declare an emergency and they land at Guantanamo Bay where we put the bag on four bioterrorist.”

McGrath said, “It sounds too easy.”

Sarah sighed and said, “Yes, there are a number of moving parts involved but by the time the flight leaves, we will have it all worked out.”

The big Humvee roared up the ramp up on to I-70 as McGrath asked, “Are the French playing ball?”

Sarah replied, “That’s one of those moving parts that we’re still working on. Once they hear that a strike team of bioterrorist are headed to Paris, they would shoot the airliner down themselves. It’s just the sort of… cooperation that we can count on from DGSE: one way with no specifics.”

McGrath asked, “What do we know about their handler?”

Sarah sat quietly for a moment and then said, “We’re not sure Scott. NSA did a voice print analysis on him but it was a bad line. Confidence is only about 70%.”

“Who is he?”

Sarah said, “We think that it’s Paul Renaud.”

The name brought a flood of memories back for McGrath. “Jesus Sarah. That’s a name I haven’t heard in a long time. He’s got to be dead or way too old to be a player.”

“It’s his son Scott. Renaud married an Algerian woman and they had a son. He followed in his father’s footsteps: Foreign Legion and DGSE. Right around 2002 he went off the reservation and has been running high priced mercenaries ever since.”

McGrath said, “If he’s anything like his old man…”

Sarah said, “He may be even better. The French have had a price on his head for a decade.”

They road in silence for a while and McGrath said, “Why are we bagging these guys? We’ve already got several of their teams. Why not tail them back to where they came from?”

Sarah looked uncomfortable and replied, “We don’t have the resources that we had yesterday. Langley is shut down. If it wasn’t for Fort Mead, Lafayette Square and the Nerd Farm in Utah we would be completely screwed. I’m not sure we could run an op like that.”

McGrath said, “Think about it Sarah. What are your instructions?”

The Humvee left the highway and took the Pena Avenue exit to Denver International Airport.

Sarah said, “Whatever happens and however we play it, these dirtbags don’t walk away.”

McGrath smiled like a wolf and said, “I can live with that. Gear?”

Sarah said, “It’s on the plane. You’ve got one of our cells, an Air Marshall’s gun and ID and a kit with all the standard goodies.”

The Humvee went through a gate, drove out on the tarmac and parked beside a Gulfstream jet.

Before he could open the door, Sarah said, “You are forgetting something.”

McGrath looked at her and asked, “What’s that?”

Sarah said, “The envelope.”

McGrath pulled the envelope out of his jacket pocket and opened it. It informed him that he was officially a senior field operative of the Central Intelligence Agency… again.

He looked up from the letter and said, “Is this a joke?”

Sarah shook her head. “No Scott. You’ve been screwed twice and landed on your feet both times. This… I just hope it’s…”

McGrath opened the door of the Hummer. Before she could finish, he kissed her cheek and got out.

Just before the jets engines began spooling up, he heard her say, “Watch your back Scott. We both know this one is way too easy.”

Copyright © 2014 jamessavik; All Rights Reserved.
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 
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If this scheme goes bad, good people we've met are going to die. Millions of good unmet, nameless people are dying off stage. Like charity, compassion begins at home. Were I in this mess, I would favor family, coworkers, friends and neighbors. As a reader, safe and sound in my Aeron, it feels right to invest in those we know. So today I cheer for McGrath.

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