Marcus was still pondering the ramifications of the Soulless as a commodity being purchased by a major terror group when, with a screech of rubber on tarmac, the C-5 landed at the Briar Patch. Hearing that, he looked up with a frown and searched for the nearest window to see if it was daylight.
They had flown through the night on the return trip. And while his teammates had snatched sleep here and there, the young fire primal found himself too keyed up to do the same as the ramifications of the Prague fight began to truly sink in. Ramifications that he was fairly certain Rose and Barna would want to address in their debrief.
A quick disembark so they could clean up. Then, as Marcus had anticipated, they were immediately summoned to a debrief with the big man himself.
"Why are we going to this debrief?" Doug wanted to know as they approached the office that Rose used when he was in the Briar Patch.
"Marcus was the only one that actually saw combat!"
"I suspect there's going to be a roll into something else that'll involve the entire team," Marcus surmised, his fire-enhanced mind churning through possibilities and discarding the outliers as fast as he was walking.
"Copy that," Jay darkly agreed. "If Null Faction have their blood-covered hands all over this attack like we think they did, that puts those assholes squarely in our sights!"
"You really think we're going to face Null Faction directly, Jay?" Val asked, her eyes wide as she considered that possibility.
"Yup," the earth elemental said with a nod. "Because we need to find out where they're getting their Soulless assets from. Then hit the source."
"The damage these hypers are causing is significant, I agree," Doug said, his own expression thoughtful as they made their final approach to Rose’s office door. "But we're not an investigative service. We're reactionary, like an RRT."
"Pretty sure that's about to change!" Marcus grimly noted. Then Jay was tapping on the door with a knuckle.
"Enter," Rose called from inside and, with a quick look at his fellow Descendants, Jay gave the door handle a twist and pushed the door itself out of the way before leading the way inside.
As expected, Rose was behind the desk, flanked by Barna on his right. However, the other three people in the room, standing to Barna's left, those none of the Primals recognized.
"Ah, here's the team now!" Rose said in his politician voice, usually reserved for visiting dignitaries. "Agents Bamfield, Leboo, Alvarez, and Gray."
"The fabled Descendants," the woman standing closest to Barna said, her tone equal parts condescending and patronizing. "I didn't realize they were so young, Director Rose." "Regardless of their age, our team is perfectly suited to deal with any hyper human threats," Barna jumped in to quickly point out, his expression tightening defensively. "In fact, the Prague operation was carried out by our youngest member, Marcus Gray."
Marcus tried not to frown as five sets of eyes swung onto him, the three strangers now wearing thoughtfully evaluating expressions as they took measure of him. But it was Jay that spoke up. "Correct me if I'm wrong here, Mr. Rose, Mr. Barna, but I thought we were having a debrief. Not some dog and pony show for members of the intelligence community," the earth primal said in a flat voice, his expression borderline annoyed.
"No, you are quite right, Agent Bamfield," Rose indicated with a thin smile. "I've asked our guests to attend this briefing to give us the latest our American intelligence community has on the terror group known as 'Null Faction'." He looked to his right.
"Allow me to introduce Tabitha Jackson, Coordinator for the CIA's international terrorism task force, Jeremy Temple with the NSA, and Leslie Burnham with Homeland Security's Joint Task Force on Terror."
As each of the three were introduced, they nodded, making Kennedy the one with the condescending comment.
"Coordinator Jackson, if you could start, please," Rose then said.
"Thank you, director," Jackson, a middle-aged woman of African descent, said, her tone now coolly professional. She then turned to the team as the display wall above their heads came to life and showed the burning Trade Center towers.
"First, a little background: after 9-11, President Bush asked the CIA to form a special division to track non-nation affiliated terror groups internationally. While the Central Intelligence Agency was originally formed to counter threats to our country from enemy states, 9-11 taught us that international terrorism groups not tied to any one country like Al Qaeda now had the resources and the willpower to strike directly at the United States."
Jackson paused there as a world map appeared on the display, pushing aside the dying buildings.
"Without giving a full history lesson, our anti-terror division and the intelligence it gathered from all sources since then have contributed to joint operations with JSOC elements, DEVGRU, and our own Operations branch in several countries including Iraq, Syria, and Afghanistan, eliminating dozens of high profile, high value targets and dealing serious damage to several terror networks. But these were all against 'traditional' terror groups that were pursuing a political agenda, like Al Qaeda's destruction of America, Daesh wanting to create an Islamic caliphate, and Hamas working towards the destruction of Israel, just to name three."
Jackson looked at Rose as the named countries and operations were highlighted on the map.
"And there’s our first disconnect. Null Faction, formed by hardline elements from those organizations creating partnerships with radical supremacist groups in Europe and North America and several large crime syndicates sometime in the mid 2010's is not a traditional terror group. Instead of focusing on one nation, they declared all nations were corrupt and needed purging in what they called 'the Cull', with the purpose of creating chaos and anarchy, from which a superior human race would arise darwin-like from the ruins.” The CIA officer frowned at that point, folding her arms.
“Which is basically where we lost them. We know they have a presence in every Western country, but beyond that, we know little if anything of their operations, strength, assets, and current objectives.”
Rose nodded then looked at Temple, the NSA rep.
“You said you’ve been catching increased traffic on the dark web indicating a possible Null Faction presence there, Mr. Temple,” he said. Temple nodded before fishing a tablet out of a jacket pocket. Bringing some information up on it quickly, he gave it a scan before he began to talk.
“As Coordinator Jackson indicated, after 9-11, POTUS directed the intelligence community to create and maintain anti-terror divisions within each organization’s umbrella. The NSA, already tasked with monitoring SIGINT, IMINT, and other methods of communication between groups of interest to the United States, dedicated a division to gather counter-intelligence on identified and suspected terror groups moving forward.”
Temple paused there to quickly glance back at his pad.
“Combined with the HUMINT gathered by our sister agency, the CIA, Homeland Security, and the FBI, our counterintel division has identified not Null Faction directly, but a number of criminal enterprises it does business with, purchasing weapons, supplies, and equipment via the dark web,” the officious NSA official indicated.
As Temple spoke, Marcus was quick to note he was a lean, pale fellow that looked more at home with a pair of headphones on, listening to a wiretap, than giving an intelligence briefing. And what was with the acronym driveby?? Like, damn, son! Then his attention was drawn to the efficient looking Burnham, a grim white woman with sharp blue eyes as she began to speak.
“To say some of these organizations that the NSA was identifying for us have been on not just our radar but the ATF’s, the DEA, the CBP and the Border Patrol, just to name a few,” she quickly rattled off. “Connecting the dots, our analysts think Null Faction is not only a terrorist organization, but is deeply involved in gun running, drug trafficking, human and child trafficking, usually for the purpose of the slave trade and the sex industry. Whatever will make them money.”
Burnham’s expression tightened.
“We even suspect them of using hackers to digitally rob cryptocurrency directly out of the various exchanges, in addition to physically robbing banks through their criminal arms.”
“They’re a virus that has infected the world,” Jackson returned to grimly pronounce. “And it’s just a matter of time before they penetrate our borders with more than just guns, drugs, and sex slaves. Paris and Prague are just scratching the surface of what they have grown capable of doing!”
“Sounds like your boogie man has moved from beneath your bed, Marcus, and is now standing in the middle of the street, holding a gun,” Jay tautly commented.
“Boogie man?” Jackson repeated, her eyes narrowing as they swung onto a frowning fire primal.
“Agent Gray has recently confronted Null Faction assets in both Paris and Prague,” Rose explained. “In his briefing, he suggested the assets he faced, a group of hyper humans he has dubbed ‘the Soulless’, were not acting on their own. And were, in fact, being deployed by a hidden party. We then did a data scrub of his action report with its accompanying video and identified evidence directly linking both attacks to Null Faction.”
“And you didn’t think to make us aware of that information?” Jackson hissed, rounding on Rose. Who smiled thinly.
“Perhaps you should check your security clearance, Ms. Jackson,” he said. “As per our contract, we’ve been supplying not just the DoD, the office of the POTUS, and the Senate Intelligence Committee with up to date reports on all of our covert actions. But we’ve sent those same reports to the Director of the CIA.” The thin smile disappeared.
“However, I will note here that we do so only to advise the agencies in the intelligence community about current situations and statuses. Not as invitations for assistance. In truth, RedSky is the only organization, covert or otherwise, that is affiliated with the United States
Government sufficiently equipped to handle Null Faction and their ‘Cull’. Not the US military. Not your CIA action teams. Not JSOC. RedSky and the Descendants.” Jackson folded her arms.
“On the contrary, Mr. Rose,” she said, her lips thin with barely suppressed anger at Rose’s condescending tone in an ironic twist to Marcus’s earlier observation.
“The CIA is perfectly positioned to take over this situation from RedSky, and control of your Descendants hyper human team. I’m invoking Article Thirty Two of the Joint Defense Initiative,” she indicated in a tight voice. “As soon as I get approval from both Langley and Washington, you’ll sign over…”
Rose cut her off with a derisive snort.
“Best rein in your ambition and reread the RedSky contract with DoD, Ms Jackson,” he said, folding his arms. “While we are given operational direction by DoD and POTUS, we have no direct command structure affiliation with any arm of the United States Government. No part of RedSky can be seconded to another organization, including the Descendants team. Push the issue and I lock the doors and scatter the team.” A brow slowly lifted.
“But this is a brief, not an operational task force meeting. Under direction, you were required only to share what intel you had on Null Faction. Not spar with me for control over the situation.”
Rose’s eyes narrowed slightly. “A fight I’m obligated to advise you that you’d lose.”
“A question for you, Mr. Rose,” Burnham interjected before a visibly angry Jackson could reply. “Is it true Mr. Barna and yourself were the only successful subjects of the Stargate
Program, America’s super soldier initiative?”
As Temple mouthed ‘Stargate’ with wide eyes, Rose pulled his eyes off Jackson and over to Burnham.
“I can neither confirm nor deny that allegation, Ms Burnham,” he replied, his face abruptly expressionless. Yet there was a glint in his eyes that revealed he knew Burnham had asked the question to diffuse the situation.
“You know that.”
Burnham smiled wryly.
“I do, sir. Sorry. I just thought since I had the famous Lawrence Rose and Jacob Barna in front of me, I’d ask.”
Jackson pulled her eyes off Burnham to track back over to Rose, her annoyed expression at being interrupted suddenly uncertain. Her opponent was a super soldier??
Rose smiled.
“Fair enough. However, we can worry about America’s lack of super soldiers later. Now, let us refocus on the task at hand. With what your analysts have looked at, what does Homeland identify as the greatest threat here, Ms. Burnham?” Burnham frowned.
“While we agree with the CIA that Null Faction is a growing concern, their deployment of these ‘Soulless’ has illustrated an escalation in their aggression. Homeland thinks we need to stop the Soulless pipeline into Null Faction by identifying where they’re coming from, and how
Null Faction is coming into possession of them.”
“We might have the answer on that one,” Temple indicated. “Chatter on the dark web talks about a black market for bio-weapons called the Zoo. Six separate ‘campuses’, each offering a specific slice of a six piece pie of illicit bio-tech and weaponry including non-sanctioned corporation-created super soldiers, which we have code-named ‘black tags’ as they are often unstable and damaged but still dangerous.”
Burnham paused slightly to consult a tablet.
“Along with those, the Zoo has on its menu custom-built attack viruses, illegal cloning facilities tied into those black tags, 3D printed organs and various body parts, and a DNA library of not only stolen genetic material from people of interest, but gene-engineered strands for anything from a killer dog armed with poisonous saliva to full-grown human beings.” She looked up.
“Homeland is of the opinion that Null Faction doesn’t produce its own Soulless. Rather, they purchase them via broker at the Zoo.”
“Makes more sense to do it that way, actually,” Barna pointed out, Rose quickly nodding in agreement.
Before either of them could continue, Marcus found a thought pushing its way forward in his mind with enough force, he began to speak before he could stop himself.
“It would also make sense that the Soulless are being produced by one of those dark biotech firms with access to cloning facilities,” he pointed out. “They’re punching out copies that would be produced most efficiently, and cost-effectively by growing them in batches, then infusing them with enough bio-energy to bring them online.”
“But where would they get their seed code for the procedure?” Doug challenged his fellow Descendant with a frown. “They have some of our powers, but not all of them. And certainly not as strong as ours.”
“Maybe a partially recovered DNA sample from one of your earlier missions,” Temple suggested, the nerdishly intelligent NSA officer caught up in the brainstorming. “If they only had a partial strand, they might have been able to replicate one or two of your abilities, which could be complementary and require the full strand to be tap into your full power.” Rose nodded in agreement as he looked over at Temple.
“Very plausible, Mr. Temple,” he added. “Soulless have only been deployed against allied assets in the last three or four years. Yet the Descendants have been in operation for over twelve years. There were multiple encounters where a DNA fragment could’ve been left behind for analysis by a malevolent entity.”
“Except, none of those Soulless actually look like your team,” Jackson recovered enough from her partial meltdown to adroitly observe.
“True enough,” Temple conceded. “An engineered splice then? Coupled with gene sculpting?”
“Which would definitely bring us back to clone tanks and an illegal grow op to make something out of that custom gene job,” Marcus noted. “If we want to stop the production of Soulless, we need to find who’s growing them. Stop the production, and Null Faction, along with whatever rogue state currently contemplating the purchase of Soulless for their efforts against
America and her allies, will be deprived of their supply.”
“Which would reduce their effectiveness against vulnerable targets identified as priority by their ‘Cull’ protocols,” Rose concluded with a nod to Marcus. “Well done, Agent Gray. I believe you’ve given us our next objective: backtrack from the Zoo the logistics stream the Soulless take to market so we can identify where they’re being produced.”
“Then a Descendants strike to take them out!” Jay said with a resolute nod. “And, in smashing those clone tanks, reduce the number of black tags on the market as well, I bet. A BOGO special on bad guys!”
Rose’s thin smile reappeared at that. Before he could comment further, however, the communication unit built into his desk chimed softly. Frowning, he reached out and tapped it.
“I’m in a briefing, Carlyle,” he flatly pointed out.
“Yes, sir,” a female voice replied. “However, you are getting an emergency communication from SECDEF and the Joint Chiefs at the Pentagon.”
The frown disappeared even as a brow lifted in curiosity.
“Very well. Everybody in the briefing has sufficient clearance for said communication. Patch it through,” Rose directed.
“Yes, sir,” Carlyle replied and there was a slight pause before: “Rose, this is Secretary of Defense Lloyd Austin,” a powerful voice rumbled. A retired general, the SECDEF was a popular appointee amongst the various military contractors for seeing what was necessary on the battlefield and getting it done without too much political prevarication. Usually with contractor help.
“Sir,” Rose curtly replied.
“I have the Joint Chiefs with me. Mostly because we are invoking Emergency Protocol Victor Charlie, authorizing an immediate deployment of your Descendant team against multiple actions currently happening across the globe.”
“How many actions are we talking about here, Lloyd?” Rose asked, his brow once again lifting. “Three? Four? And where? The only asset I have that can travel almost instantly to anywhere on the planet, is tapped out from helping the British handle the attack on their embassy in Prague. If there’s significant travel, you have to give us at least twelve hours to get there.” The RedSky leader paused there to look at his team.
“And are they American assets that are being targeted? Or allied assets? Just so we can start to prioritize.”
“Our embassy in Berlin is currently under attack by hyper humans, Lawrence,” Austin grimly replied after a pause to consult with the assembled military officers in the room with him. “Make that priority one. And the embassy in Amsterdam, so priority two. And out of the remaining five attacks, I would make the attack against the Panama Canal your third priority.”
“Holy shit!” Jay breathed as his teammates could only shake their heads in dismay even as Barna brought up a handheld comms device.
“Flight. Barna. Prep a transport with a full package for immediate departure to Berlin with Agent Bamfield’s team, a second transport with a full package for immediate departure to Amsterdam for Agent Leboo’s team, and a third transport with a full package for immediate departure to Panama for Agent Alvarez’s team. Acknowledge.”
“Acknowledged, Mr. Barna,” the flight control for the Briar Patch replied.
“Commencing fueling. Birds will be ready in fifteen minutes on my mark. Mark.”
“Copy that. Situation Room, Barna.”
“Situation Room here, sir,” a raspy rumble replied. “Go ahead.”
“I need Delta Team prepped for a hyper human encounter in Germany, Charlie for an encounter in Panama, and Alpha for an encounter in Amsterdam. Birds are on the tarmac and being fueled now. You have fifteen minutes to wheels up.”
“Copy fifteen minutes. Situation Room out.”
“Teams are scrambling, Lloyd,” Rose reported after catching Barna’s nod. “They’ll be in the air in fifteen minutes.”
“Thank you, Lawrence,” Austin quickly replied even as a murmur of voices became audible in the background as the Joint Chiefs began setting up their monitoring rooms. “And I know I don’t have to say it, but I will so the Joint Chiefs can hear me do so: do what you can to get Gray back in action. Any one of those three top priority situations could use his fire power, quite literally, to pull this one out of the bag.”
Rose looked over at a grimly thoughtful Marcus.
“Understood, Lloyd. We’ll do what we can.”
“Thank you. Keep us advised. Austin out.” And the comms line went silent. As was the room, but not for long.
“Agents Bamfield, Leboo, and Alvarez; I realize this is a quick turnaround but your rides are leaving in fifteen minutes. Do what you need to, to be ready. Dismissed.”
“Sir,” the three said simultaneously as they stood. Then they were quickly stepping to the door and out, intent on grabbing a shower and a fresh set of clothes before getting back onto a C-5 and flying for at least another twelve hours minimum.
“Agent Gray …” Rose then began before Marcus held up his hands.
“I know the drill, sir. Food then bed for as long as possible,” he said with a sigh.
“As you were then, Agent Gray,” Rose said. “And be prepared to jump to any of those three as soon as you’re conscious again.” Then he was turning back to the intelligence officers, effectively dismissing the fire primal.
Nodding, Marcus turned to also make his way out the door. But not before he heard:
“This new wave of attack is obviously not a coincidence,” Rose grimly noted. “Somehow they’ve noted that we only deployed one Descendant against them in Prague in addition to the Excalibur team and they’re testing our ability to respond to multiple events.”
“You think they’re trying to run diversionary tactics to see if they can pull us away from high value targets?” Jackson asked.
“It’s a fairly standard military tactic,” Barna replied. “And strangely organized for a group hellbent on anarchy and chaos.”
“Regardless of their shift in tactics, we need to rob them of their assets,” Rose directed. “We’ll focus on finding these campuses for the Zoo …”
Then a thoughtful Marcus finished closing the door behind him before they caught him eavesdropping. Settling himself, he began to stride down the hallway towards the mess hall. As he did, he let his brain turn over what he had just heard.
Of course, they couldn’t guarantee that every attack was being launched by Null Faction. Al Qaeda in its various forms, was still interested in hitting American assets across the globe, even though they lacked the resources they once had to hit assets whenever, and wherever, land, air and sea. Their list of allied nations was also dwindling, giving them fewer and fewer places willing to harbor them long enough to plan, train for, and carry out a significant terror attack.
Daesh, or ISIS, as the rest of the world called them, was also a shrinking entity, being more and more confined to warzones in the Middle East, even though they likely still had weaponized assets in a number of European nations that could hit a target with walking bombs, or planted explosives. The Taliban? Basically restricted to Afghanistan. And the handful of terror-based militias in Africa with ambitions to expand and grow their power weren’t making moves off their continent as yet, and were just as often fighting each other as their local governments.
And he included the pirates out of Somalia that still occasionally hit merchant shipping in the area. The pirates wanted money, not to upset the world order. As did the remaining criminal enterprises not doing direct business with Null Faction via their criminal arms like the Triads, the Yakuza, the Central and South American Cartels, and the Mafia, to name four of the bigger ones.
So, logic now being fully exercised, and excluding rogue states that took opportunities to engage in terrorist-like guerilla operations like Iran and North Korea, all signs were pointing to Null Faction being behind these attacks. Marcus’s expression tightened. A pseudo-nation without borders in possession of a pseudo-military without rules of engagement, honor, or a moral compass, all existing with the sole intent of destroying the world order. And willing to use hyper humans to do it!
‘Mr. Rose was right,’ he thought as he pushed his way through the doors and into the mess hall, currently busy with the tactical teams rushing to finish food before they got on their planes and headed to Europe and Central America.
‘We are the only ones equipped to stop these assholes!’ His expression became grim. ‘I just hope we have enough juice to get it done against these stupid, rapidly growing odds!’
****
After a relatively tasteless meal, Marcus headed back to his quarters. A quick shower then he was crawling into bed, feeling a little dopey with so much food in his belly.
In truth, the food he ate in Prague, plus the sleep he got at the embassy, and the couple naps he got on the flight, probably gave him enough energy to deploy again without needing to wait the required twenty four hours for a full recharge. But, without knowing what they were facing, like a fight more fierce than Prague, which ended up draining him out to where he couldn’t spark his fire form, it’d be risky to jump without a completely full tank.
So more food and more sleep. Until he couldn’t stand himself. Then maybe a jump through the fire plane and back into a fight somewhere. Marcus found himself getting sleepy as he wondered where he would have to jump to. Berlin? Berlin would be cool; he had never been. And then he was out.
Unfortunately, as much as he wanted it, Marcus’s sleep was anything but peaceful. Instead of the blankness he had hoped for, or even the dreams of the First Ones and their horrible experiments, the fire primal found himself looking at partial memories of women and children being tortured and mind raped. Some were Russian, some were Ukrainian, some were from the Middle East, and some were even from Africa. All places on the planet where RedSky and the Americans had suspected the Russians were currently operating to increase their zones of influence.
Knowing that these were memories left over from the red star he had leached in Prague, Marcus gritted his dream teeth and went to work on purging each one from his mind. A purging that, while it removed the images, didn't scrub away the corruption he could feel twisting and darkening the edges of his mind with its filth. Hopefully Time would heal that particular wound.
And, yet again, he found himself vowing to never leach another living person, deliberately or otherwise.
The young fire primal was halfway through a purge of a rather intense mind torture of a twelve year old Ukrainian girl when, right through the middle of the image of the battered and bruised girl hanging by her wrists from the ceiling, Val stepped into sight.
“Marcus!” she hissed in a horrified whisper. “Why are you dreaming of torturing this little girl??”
“I’m not,” Marcus grimly replied. “It’s a leftover memory from that Russian telepath I accidentally leached in Prague. A thoroughly unpleasant fellow. I’m trying to purge the images before they give me a mental illness.”
“Uh, okay. Whatever.”
Marcus frowned. The latina Descendant seemed to be horribly distracted by something. Focusing on her, he was about to ask when, without warning, her image shifted to something twisted up and covered in blood for a split second. Then, as he blinked his mental eyes, she refocused into what he had been looking at previously: a Val dressed in casual clothes, looking fairly normal.
“Why are you morpheopathing into my mind, Val?” he asked. “Is there something wrong?” Val looked back at him, her expression vague and unfocused.
“Wrong? I, uh …” She frowned, holding a hand to her head. And again Marcus got a glimpse of her broken and covered in blood.
“I don’t know,” she confessed when the water primal returned back to her regular form. “I’m confused. I, I can’t seem to think straight.”
“Are you okay? You keep flashing to this image that’s covered in blood!” It was like he had flipped a switch.
“No!” she suddenly exclaimed in a voice that was nearly a scream as she leaned towards him, her expression filled with desperation. “Marcus! My transport has been shot down over Nicaragua! I am unconscious from my injuries so I can’t heal myself and I think I’ve lost most of my team! And, as we were going down, we spotted what appeared to be a company of black tags moving towards us.”
A flicker and she was again covered in blood. This time, however, the image didn’t go away.
“I need help, Marcus!” she cried out, obviously scared. “I’m hurt badly and I don’t want to die here!”
Marcus nodded and began pushing his way back to consciousness. But, before Val and the little girl dangling from a ceiling could disappear, he paused.
If he woke up right now, how was he going to know where she was? He could spend hours jumping to random fires before he found her burning plane. And she would be dead by that point. He needed something to anchor her mind to his. Something he could follow through the plane of fire and jump directly to her.
“Val! Can you link your mind to mine?” he asked as she wrapped her arms around her broken body and shivered. “I need something to guide me there or I won’t be able to reach you in time!” “I, I think so,” she said, her dream voice now filled with pain alongside her fear. “I put an anchor in each of your minds to help me find you in the dream state. If I extended that anchor … There! I’ve created a link. It’ll look like a silver cable in your Spirit Sight.”
Val then shuddered again, this time hard and her image broke up even further.
“Hurry, Marcus,” she groaned, looking at him now with a face that was cut and bleeding, one of her eyes missing. “I don’t know how much longer I can hold on.” Marcus grit his teeth resolutely.
“I’m on my way, Val. I’ll be right there!” And then he was pushing himself out of the dream state.
And almost immediately sitting up, rubbing the sleep from his face. A glance at his bedside clock yielded he had been asleep for nearly nine hours. An equally quick self-analysis yielded he was feeling pretty good and almost at top energy levels.
It would have to do. He couldn’t afford to wait even another fifteen minutes to grab a shower. Marcus just pulled on his clothes from yesterday and grabbed his gear. As he was clipping on his plate vest and utility web, he slapped the comms unit on the wall.
“Switchboard, get me Mr. Rose or Mr. Barna, please,” he directed when the line went active.
“Highest priority!”
“One moment, Mr. Gray,” the switchboard operator said in clipped tones. “Mr. Rose has returned to Washington and Mr. Barna is currently in a meeting with Operations.” “Damnit, operator, I need to talk to him!” Marcus snarled. “I think Valentina is in trouble!” “Please hold, Mr. Gray,” the operator replied.
“No, no, NO! Don’t put me on …” He grimaced as the line went into the hold sound and he slammed a fist against the wall.
“Sonuvabitch!”
He was looking at his aching hand, his anger and frustration churning just below the surface, when the line went active.
“Did you just say Valentina is in trouble, Gray?” Barna hurriedly asked.
“Yeah. She just walked into my dream and told me her plane’s been shot down over Nicaragua,” Marcus grimly reported. “She’s hurt badly and a team of local black tags are closing in on her.”
“We just lost contact with her transport about ten minutes ago,” Barna tautly declared. “So I’m not going to question how you found out. Can you jump immediately?”
“Yes. I just need a starter flame. I’ve got nothing in my room that I can use for, well, obvious reasons.”
“Understood. I’m coming to you,” Barna said and the line went abruptly dead.
Nodding, Marcus quickly strode to the door and out. And he was about halfway to the base’ main areas when Barna came running around a corner.
“Do you have a way to locate her?” he asked as he came to a halt in front of Marcus and pulled out his lighter.
“I think so.”
“Go. I’ll head to Monitoring to bring up the situation on the big screens to see if we can find her from this end. And I’ll let Mr. Rose know what’s happening,” Barna said, lifting his lighter up and activating its flame. And in a blink, Marcus was in the plane of fire.
A quick look around found nothing at first. Then, remembering what Val had said about using his Spirit Sight, he switched to that. And almost immediately spotted a silver line snaking away from him towards a fire in the distance that was burning with hints of black in it. Hoping the line was the link that Val had anchored to his mind, Marcus ran towards the distant fire, his eyes focused on it. And, when he was close enough … *Blink* he was through.
And into a scene straight out of Dante’s Inferno.
“Holy … shit!” he breathed, looking wildly around.
****