Anne Fox - Camp Chaos

“Plano, John Michael. Twenty-four years of age. Currently DEA. Foreign covert ops. Commercial pilot, turbine-rated. No choppers, though. Decent with the standard weaponry. Lots of work infiltrating bad guy organizations.”

Crow opened up his file. “Palazzini, Linda Serena. Twenty-seven years of age. Currently Top Hat Security, Inc. Ok with a handgun. Techie to the max. You need it bugged, videoed, photographed, whatever◦– she can do it.”

“And last but certainly not least, Edge.”

“Schooley, Robert John. Twenty-eight years old. Currently United States Marine Corps. Oorah! Big on Krav Maga. Built like a brick shithouse. Spends a lot of time at the gym when he’s not berating new recruits◦– he’s a drill instructor. Trained as a medic, good with guns, knives or anything else nearby.”

“Ok. So those are our choices. Now we have to decide what talent we need and which of these candidates can best give us that talent.”

“Falcon was our best with a gun, and a top-notch sniper. Also good with knives and decent with eavesdropping equipment. But where we really needed him the most was sniping. I say we eliminate anyone who isn’t good with a gun,” Voice said. “We don’t need a good techie. We’ve got me,” he grinned.

“I agree,” said Spud. “We need someone who can hit their mark.”

“Everyone agree we need more strength with firearms?” Cloud asked.

The six team members reached out and all tapped with their knuckles on the table.

“Ok, so who’ve we got?” asked Crow.

Each consulted the file in front of them.

“Plano,” Spud announced.

“Hanko,” Turtle added.

“And Schooley,” Edge said.

“You fucking Marines always want another Marine in the unit,” Spud said, offering some of the usual bullshit that betrayed just how close the team members were.

“I’ve got to seriously question this gal, Hanko,” Crow said. “My understanding is she’s maybe 115 pounds soaking wet. Your standard bad guy isn’t going to have any trouble putting her in her place.”

“She’s also got a black belt in aikido,” Spud said. “She can throw your standard bad guy to the ground and have him cuffed before he can say, ‘What the hell?’ Plus, Turtle and I watched her haul a steel Ivan up a hillside up there in Raton without apparently breaking a sweat. She might be 115 pounds soaking wet, but every pound is made of muscle.”

“Yeah, but is everyone going to think they have to protect her? If she does manage to be compromised, you know what will happen. She won’t just get killed for her efforts,” Voice said.

“So, you’re saying she shouldn’t be in the unit because we can’t handle the thought of her getting raped?” Edge asked. “Why is it we can handle the thought of any one of us getting our balls cut off, but we can’t handle the thought of a woman being raped?”

“And we need a sniper,” Turtle said. “She’s a sniper, whether she’s been trained as one or not. We sat out there in Raton and watched her hit that Ivan over and over again. A standard, torso-sized Ivan set over 1100 yards from the firing line. And she had it camo-painted. Hell, I couldn’t even see the damned thing, but I could sure hear her hitting it! And not only that, she was doing it with a stock, off-the-shelf Savage 112. With a really good rifle, I’ll bet she can do a head shot at that distance.”

“I don’t think a bad guy could get close enough to her to grab her anyway,” Spud added. “She’s got some kind of sixth sense. She knew we were watching her.”

“What makes you think that?” Edge asked.

“Might have something to do with her turning and flipping us the bird,” Turtle said, eliciting a laugh from the rest of the team.

“Ok,” Voice said, “Let’s take a vote. Everyone for Plano?”

The team members all sat silently.

“Schooley?”

Edge reached out and tapped his knuckles on the table. “Figures,” Crow said, getting the others laughing again.

“And Hanko?”

The five remaining unit members all reached out and tapped their knuckles on the table. “Ah, fuck it!” Edge said, and tapped as well.

“It’s decided,” Voice concluded. “We bring Ms. Hanko here to Quantico and see if she’d like a new job.”

“Hey, Hanko. Boss wants to see you in his office,” one of the other agents told her, poking his head in her cubicle.

Yeah, shit. Just when I was starting to think I’d get this crap done this morning, she mused. She pulled the access card from her computer terminal and headed to her supervisor’s office. She tapped on the door and leaned over so he could see her through the window, and he beckoned her inside.

“You wanted to see me, Stan?”

“Yup.” He took a sheet of paper from where it sat in front of him and put it in front of her. “Seems they want you back in Quantico.”

“What’d I do?” she asked.

“It’s not disciplinary, Hanko. Apparently, they want you for some special assignment.”

“But I’ve still got that interstate porn trafficking thing and the kidnapping to finish up,” she said. “And the bank robbery in Soccoro.”

“I’m passing your cases over to Robertson and Martinez,” he said. “If you take a look at that order, they don’t want you there next week. You’re to go right now.” He handed her a travel itinerary. “So ‘right now’ that there will be an agency jet waiting at Sunport for you tomorrow morning. Pack your bag, take your sidearm, take this transfer order and your itinerary. Be there by 7 AM.”

KAT ARRIVED at the General Aviation area of Albuquerque Sunport, bag in hand, dressed like she was meeting the press◦– something she hated. But this was official travel, so when a Special Agent, do as Special Agents do, she mused.

A man in the lobby of the FBO put down the coffee he was drinking and rose to meet her. “Special Agent Hanko?” he asked. She pulled her credentials out of her jacket pocket and flashed them. “Right this way, Agent Hanko.”

She walked out the door onto the ramp and looked around. “This way, Agent Hanko,” the man repeated, directing her to a Gulfstream 550 that stood on the ramp. You’re shitting me, she thought. Who’s on this flight? Me and the Director?

“I’ll take your bag, Agent Hanko,” said a second man standing at the airstair. He took it from her and indicated she should board the plane.

“I guess this is some kind of very special assignment,” she quipped to the man who had greeted her.

“I wouldn’t know that, Agent Hanko. I just fly the plane. But there’s a gentleman in the back who will probably fill you in.”

The pilot headed for the cockpit while the second man stowed her suitcase. She looked down the interior of the plane. The thing’s cavernous .

“I’ve got to go help get this thing off the ground,” the second man said. “The guy you’re meeting is mid-deck, and once we’re comfortably in the air the attendant will see that you get something to eat and drink. This is Doug,” he added, indicating yet a third man. “He’ll be taking care of you back here.” Doug smiled and nodded. “Go on back, Agent Hanko,” the co-pilot said, “and make yourself comfortable.”

Kat made her way to the cabin. As told, she noted the back of a man’s head about midway down and made her way to where he was sitting.

“Have a seat, Agent Hanko.”

She sat and buckled herself in, all the while keeping an eye on him. Complete stranger.