Read Ashley Fox - Ninja Babysitter Page 37


  Chapter 35 – Complete the Plan

  Monday, July 13, 2308

  Much like he had in the canyon, Von Kalt spent several days occupying a patio chair and hardly moved. He ate with the troops, did some light stretching, and would occasionally go for a short walk, but ninety percent of his time was spent in the cushioned lounge chair, on the outdoor balcony.

  Monday afternoon, the secure line rang with a call from Director Stanwood. Angstrom answered and was told to put Von Kalt on.

  Deputy Director Von Kalt abruptly rose from the patio and carried the portable terminal into one of the bedrooms.

  “We need confirmation that the children are there,” Stanwood said. “We don’t need to extract them, we just need visual confirmation.”

  “I can do that, but I’ll have to send someone in to wire the place.”

  “That’s fine. But keep that final-solution team ready, just in case.”

  “Ready to go in and do what, sir?”

  “You know very well what I mean.”

  “Director Stanwood, I give you my word, as soon as the Attorney General signs a warrant for Mrs. Fox or the Fox children, my men will be standing by, ready to do their duty, to the death, if necessary. But I will not issue an unlawful order.”

  Stanwood said nothing; he just stared at his deputy.

  “If you’re asking me to have a team ready to eliminate a threat to national security, you’d better be ready to show evidence that will stand up in court of an imminent threat. My men aren’t going to go wax this guys wife and kids in a metropolitan camp. And if you send us in there on a rendition, without warrants, you know damn well it will get messy.”

  “What are you afraid of? We’re talking about two kids and a housewife. Take more men if you think you need to.”

  “Sir, as your second, I have access to all the same information you do. The same Presidential access applies to both of us. While I can’t tell my men, due to their security clearance, I can tell you. And I’m telling you, I think this is Fox’s version of an ambush. The more men we send, the more body bags we’re going to need.”

  “I will note your formal protest and add my own footnote that I heard fear and cowardice in your voice, commander.”

  “Fear and cowardice? You want subtext? Go Fuck Yourself! What do you hear in that?”

  “Shall I interpret that as a formal resignation?”

  “Whatever happened to No Women, No Kids?”

  “Whatever happened to following orders?”

  “That’s what I’m telling you, this rendition will fail. There is no way we can take them alive.”

  Stanwood scowled at Von Kalt. “You took the doctor. The Doctor. You, Deputy Director Rudolph Von Kalt, took down the man who can kill with a thought.”

  Von Kalt rolled his eyes. “We can’t gas a camp facility. We can’t set the dosage low enough for the kids to survive and still knock out the adults. We should wait until the program ends and pick them up at home.”

  “He planned this, I know he did,” Stanwood muttered.

  “Still not talking then?” Von Kalt surmised.

  “That’s why we need leverage. Please tell me you understand.”

  “Look, our only option here is a covert intrusion on spider lines. They have limited internal surveillance, so we’ll have to install new cameras at night to watch during the day. We’re not even certain they’re there yet. I have scoured all their internal documents and there is no actual proof, just gaps where the proof should be.”

  “No one wants to kill a mom and her kids. That’s insane and would serve no purpose. You have to bring them in alive,” Stanwood said.

  “Glad we can agree on something,” Von Kalt replied.

  “Keep me informed.” Stanwood reached out to switch off the channel.

  “Wait, before you go… The 3AM and Black Willow files... Fox’s daughter, Ashley, is that not the same little girl in those exercises?”

  “I’ve reviewed the Black Willow data, extensively, and I have every confidence you will keep all classified material to yourself.”

  “And how come none of the vets who participated are named? It’s all code names. I couldn’t find a proper name file anywhere.”

  “Who? The vets?” Stanwood asked.

  “The subjects, the aggressors and the defenders. I get the code names, but the original name file, where is that?”

  “The project was sealed at the presidential level, only he has access to it. Since he has never accessed it, ever, our permissions aren’t enough to scan it,” Stanwood looked away, scanning a file on his desk.

  “Are you even sure it’s there?” Von Kalt asked.

  “Oh, it’s there. It has to be. Why are you looking for that anyhow? It isn’t going to help you find them,” Stanwood said.

  “Once you consider it, there’s no reason to even believe Fox ended the project. After all, if the members serve anonymously? I mean… It’s the ultimate MK Ultra. He could have sleeping agents anywhere.”

  “Now you’re catching on, deputy. Yes, he could have agents anywhere. In fact, one might say, the only way to be sure that someone was not under Fox’s control, would be to measure their opposition to him. Wouldn’t you agree?”

  Von Kalt raised an eyebrow.

  “His enemies show courage in voicing their dissent,” Stanwood said.

  “Courage can be misread as ignorance,” Von Kalt countered.

  “And curiosity kills the cat,” Stanwood added. “But the cat kills everything else. Install the cameras.”

  “I’ll keep you informed.” Von Kalt switched the terminal off.

  Monday, July 13, 2308

  Croswell arrived at the public parking garage and exited his vehicle, in which he’d had his lunch, only to climb into another. This vehicle would proceed to travel aimlessly until docking at another location, allowing the Secretary to switch vehicles again.

  When Croswell was in the field, he preferred to be careful. These days, he considered anywhere away from his home base of the capital to be the field. He flooded his target city with a fleet of secret service vehicles and moved among them like an invisible pea in a shell game. Even his agents never knew whose vehicle he was going to climb into. Doubles and drivers, disguised as himself, added to the apparent chaos, but Croswell’s security protocols had never lost a subject and were the stuff of legend.

  Fox had never appreciated the majesty of Security, but that was where Croswell shined. If Fox had listened to Croswell, ever, about anything: there was no doubt, things would be different today.

  Croswell considered calling Stanwood, but the men he’d assigned to keep an eye on the director’s office confirmed that he hadn’t shown up in three days. Besides and despite his procrastination, he’d arrived at the vehicle scheduled to deliver him to Ross’s lab.

  Seventeen minutes later, Croswell docked and walked into Ross’s observation lab. “So where the hell is he?” he asked.

  “We’ve narrowed it down to five locations. Betting money says he’d keep him close to the front lines,” Ross answered.

  “I can guarantee you he isn’t using anything military.”

  “We found seventeen undercover operations. Nine of them were already on the books at DOJ. And three more they waved us off of for diplomatic issues, I guess we’re training somebody’s someone. So, we’ve narrowed our interests down to five occupations.

  “Several military types, always in headgear out of doors and no vehicles. They’re cooking with gas or fire, nothing electric. Confirmed in Jacksonville, El Paso, Las Cruces and Tucson.

  “I thought you said five?”

  “Sorry, two in Jacksonville.”

  “So that’s out. Stanwood wouldn’t set up that close to another operation. What about Barstow?”

  “He won’t risk it. And China Lake is out too, that’s Fox’s home turf.”

  “Stanwood is old school. He’ll have at least twenty boots on the ground. And it won’t be a known operations facility. My mo
ney is on Houston or Colorado,” Croswell said.

  ‘Get this, and this is why we included Jacksonville… They all test their jamming equipment for sixty seconds, every night at two-forty.”

  “How do you know, if there’s nothing to jam?”

  Ross looked down, “ I um… Uh. I put resources in play.”

  “Please tell me you did not activate anything that generates any kind of fiscal or paper trail.” Croswell raised his hand to his forehead, pinching his brow and massaging his eyebrows.

  “No, just the Geo Syncs. And some gliders,” Ross answered.

  “Oh sure, okay. That’s fine.” Croswell waved a hand sarcastically.

  “We were over all seventeen locations, all night. These five squeaked, for sixty seconds, all at two-forty am,” Ross stated.

  “Could be he’s running multiples,” Croswell suggested.

  “I’m guessing this is Miller’s hand at play. And I’d bet every one of them is a minefield, just waiting to get tripped,” Ross said.

  “So we drop in under the cover of darkness, at two-forty, while their blind for a minute?” Croswell surmised.

  “That’s about the size of it,” Ross said.

  “Without vehicles, and jamming the frequencies during a fight, what’s their endgame?”

  “Most likely; kill the hostage, fight to the death, and a ballistic enema.”

  “That cleansing fire.”

  “No more than a hundred-eighty seconds after hostilities erupt.”

  “We can’t go in numbers. Even invisible and airborne, this is a very dangerous op. They’re waiting for us. Likely they’re all wearing custom lenses. Stanwood knows what he’s up against,” Croswell said.

  “He has no idea what he’s up against,” Ross countered.

  “I figure three of us could drop in during that sixty-second window.”

  “We’ll only get to the ground,” Croswell said.

  “I’ve got an idea about that too,” Ross answered.

  “Well, let’s hear it then?”

  “We hack their jammer, lock it in the on position. By the time they figure it out, well be in and out. If we can get airborne in less than ninety seconds, we’ll have thirty to escape the blast radius.”

  “That is tight,” Croswell said. “It would get wet and hot. It would have to get wet.”

  “What’s the worst that can happen?” Ross asked.

  Ross and Croswell laughed together.