Cliff Ryder - Aim And Fire

“How does it work?”

“We use nitrous oxide as the oxidizer, which is forced into the combustion chamber, where it is ignited to burn the fuel—in this case synthetic rubber—that lines the chamber. Once that reaction happens, the hot gases produced are channeled out of that nozzle at the bottom to provide thrust. However, it is our guidance system that is the company’s pride and joy—we even hold two patents on the refinement of the system. With a range of twenty-five hundred miles, just about any target east of the Mississippi is within reach.”

“And you know that I want as many of them blanketed as possible.” Al-Kharzi frowned. “Aren’t you concerned about being discovered?”

“My friend, you are too used to working under the fear of constant scrutiny. Here, we labor in plain sight every single day, and until twenty-four hours ago, there was absolutely nothing to hide anywhere on this property. I pay the taxes for our land and assets every year, and my employees do the same. They contribute to the company’s 401K plan, and we even give to local charities. My people are using the degrees they received from universities here to create the next generation of technology. We are the model of every American company chasing after its piece of the so-called dream.” His genial smile turned grim, like a predator’s. “The only difference is that we have a much different interpretation of how that dream will play out.

Once the payload is inserted, and our holy vessel takes to the skies over this nation, our own dream, one that you and I have been working toward for the past fifteen years, will be realized, and this nation will know our might and tremble like it never has before.”

The main door of the complex opened, and an engineer dressed in a white lab coat walked out to them. “Dr. Allen, all modifications to the payload are complete, and it is operating within normal parameters. We are ready to begin the loading with your permission.”

“Go ahead.” Allen turned back. “Would you care to begin the countdown to put our operation truly into motion?”

Taking one last look at his instrument of destruction— hidden in plain sight in the very nation he was about to attack—al-Kharzi smiled. “I would like that very much.”

The school play was an amazing production of The Fairie Queene by Edmund Spenser. The gifted and talented class had been delightful, and Paul had been extremely pleased when Tracy had slipped into the seat next to him as the curtain rose. Regardless, Tracy had been distracted by her conversation with Agent Cassell and the decision that lay before her. Her desire to accept the job was overwhelming—a success could only help her career—but every time she looked at Jennifer’s face as she pirouetted and ruled over the rest of the cast as Gloriana, the title character, her heart almost broke at the thought of leaving her, even if only for a few days.

She clapped at the right places, and gave Jennifer a big hug when she came down off the stage after taking her bows before the enthusiastic audience, but let Paul take the lead in the after-play celebration. She did not hesitate to lavish praise on Jennifer’s performance, which had been very good, but all the while a part of her wished the day would come to an end so she could discuss the offer with her fiancé.

With an exhausted Jennifer tucked into bed, she and Paul could finally relax in front of the plasma television.

Her head rested on his shoulder as they listened to the light rain on the living-room windows. Now that the moment had arrived, she was unsure as to how to bring it up. Better just to come right out with it, she thought.

“Paul?”

“Hmm?”

“The reason I was late was because I had a visitor today.

From the FBI.”

“Oh, what did the feebs want?”

“You’re incorrigible.” She took the remote and hit the mute button. “They offered me a coordinated assignment out of town.”

He looked directly at her. “Where?”

“I can’t go into specific details, but it would be on the U.S.-Mexico border.”

“What? Why did they ask you—never mind, you probably can’t tell me.”

“Afraid so. I would be gone for at least a week, maybe two.”

He sat up. “And you said?”

“That I would think about it and let them know tonight.”

“That isn’t a lot of time.”

“It’s important that I give them an answer right away. I would be leaving as early as tomorrow morning.”

“I take it you’re seriously considering going?”

“I wouldn’t be talking about it with you if I wasn’t. This could give my career a boost, and, let’s face it, I need it right now.”

Paul turned off the television, darkening the room a bit.

“Or it could get you shot or killed, as well. I mean, have you been keeping up on events down there? There’s been reports of the Mexican army providing escort for drug smugglers, special-forces soldiers going over to work for the bad guys. It’s dangerous down there, I mean really dangerous. You can’t tell me exactly where?”

“Sorry. But this isn’t any different than when you’re packed up and sent off to Bahrain or Somalia or somewhere equally dangerous. And don’t even think of trying to play the gender card on me,” she said.

“I wouldn’t dream of it, but keep in mind that when I go to these places, I have bodyguards accompanying me for safety. I hope to God that they’re providing you with a contact down there.”

“The briefing agent said I’d be working with the Border Patrol agent who first brought this to our attention.”

“One guy? That’s reassuring. Will you be carrying?

When’s the last time you qualified on the range?”

“Possibly, and I requalified last month. I shoot monthly, as you well know.”

He rose from the leather couch and paced the room, running a hand through his already-tousled blond hair. “I don’t know, Tracy. We were going to take that trip to the coast next weekend. Now we’ll have to postpone it.”

“Paul, tell me you’re not using Jennifer as a reason I should turn this down.”

“No, but our schedules are crazy enough that it was hell just getting that time off together. And as for Jennifer, I’m not using her. I’m telling you that she is a reason. Look, Marilyn was a workaholic—twelve-hour days, extended business trips—she only took two weeks off to have Jennifer, then she was running around the world again. When I found out my newborn daughter was being nursed by a nanny, I dropped everything, came home and took care of her for the next three years. Fortunately, the firm I was with was very understanding.”

Paul ran a hand across his face. “Once I realized that Marilyn had agreed to have a child primarily because she thought it was what I wanted, and that she really had no maternal attachment to Jennifer, that’s when we started talking seriously about splitting up. And, well, you know the rest. I swore that I would never put my daughter through that again. I know government work comes with a price—I’ve worked plenty of late nights, too, but I always made time for my daughter, as well, even though it almost killed me sometimes. Now I—we—have finally got Jennifer to where she’s accepting you not just as my girlfriend, but as a mother—” He paused at Tracy’s surprised look, then continued. “Yes, she’s called you that more than once. Anyway, out of nowhere comes this trip— one that could get you killed. I mean—and this is not meant to be an insult—you’re an analyst, not a field agent.”

“I know that. They said they wanted a fresh viewpoint, which is what I bring to the situation, I guess. But keep in mind this is just one trip, Paul.”

“Sure, for now. But what happens when they ask you next time? I appreciate that you try to make time for Jennifer and me, but we’ve had to reschedule or cancel things so many times in the past year alone. And what happens if the DHS assigns you to a fusion center across the country? I love you, but I’m not sure I could uproot Jennifer at this point in her life and start over again.”