Charles Henderson - Terminal Impact

“Hell of a good job, Agent Cruz. Top rung at sniper school and at SERE school both. Most impressive,” Kendrick said, putting the final touches on an email, his eyes focused on the computer screen.

“Would you have accepted anything less, sir?” Liberty said, standing at attention, centered six inches in front of the supervisory special agent’s desk.

He looked at her and smiled. “Not one bit less, Agent Cruz.”

She smiled, still at attention. “You left a note on my cubicle, sir.”

“That I did,” Kendrick said, and pointed to a chair. “Have a seat.”

“Thank you, sir,” Liberty said, and sat, trying hard not to expose her fatigue.

Kendrick slid a manila folder trimmed in red, marked TOP SECRET across his desk. “Take your time reading through the brief; however, the folder does not leave this office.”

Liberty nodded as she began working her way through the pages, and Kendrick went back to typing more emails on his computer.

When Liberty Cruz looked up from the folder, after reading the last page of the briefing, she saw Agent Kendrick leaned back in his desk chair, sipping coffee, waiting for her.

“What do ya think?” he asked her.

“Pretty mind-boggling, to be honest, sir. I had no idea,” she said, and slid the top secret folder back across her boss’s desk. “We have acts of cold-blooded murder, kidnapping, human trafficking, drug trafficking, major theft. Instance after instance. And nothing done to these thugs? Seriously?”

“One of those things you don’t realize until after you’ve gone to war,” Kendrick said. “All of it pretty much outside our legal jurisdiction, as it now stands with our current status of forces agreements and treaties with the struggling and still-forming governments of Iraq and Afghanistan. But, yes, as you say, pretty mind-boggling.”

“A Baghdad cab driver shot by a security-contractor supervisor, purely for sport? A delivery driver murdered by this same creep the same day. Killed them both for the fun of it? Because he was going home the next day and had not killed anyone during his year in Iraq? Seriously, sir? There’s literally no rule of law governing the conduct of these government contractors in Iraq or Afghanistan?” Liberty said, amazed.

“Only the host nations’ rules of law, which are basically nonexistent right now, considering the war and all,” Kendrick said. “State Department pays off the injured families and closes the book. The criminals go scot-free. That’s why the Senate investigation, and the president directing the FBI to look into things. We have to make a recommendation before anything truly disastrous happens.”

“Like mass murder,” Liberty offered.

“Or a host of other really scary possibilities, including press coverage, once you think about it,” Kendrick added. “On one side we have Virginia Senator Jim Wells, a fellow jarhead with the Navy Cross and two Silver Stars from his Vietnam service, wanting some sort of ruling authority in Defense or State Departments, or both, overseeing the contractors, and prosecuting all criminal acts. More or less, pulling government contractors under the umbrella of federal jurisdiction, pretty much the same kinds of rules that the military operates under. Which I think is pretty sane and long overdue, if you wanted to hear my opinion.

“Then on the other side, we have Nevada Senator Cooper Carlson championing the status quo and his special interests. Which I think are probably pretty shady but we have no evidence to prove it, just me suspecting it. And him saying the contractors ought to have every freedom to operate as any other American business does in any other foreign nation. The United States should not try to extend its jurisdiction into other nations.”

“And what does all of this have to do with me?” Liberty asked.

“Your kit packed?” Kendrick asked.

“Yes, always, but I have a bunch of dirty laundry,” Cruz answered.

“Wash it or change it,” Kendrick said. “You’ve got a helicopter to catch at 1400. You’ll launch from here with three other tactical agents who make up your team, and chop to Dover Air Force Base, where you’ll depart via C-17 Globemaster for Baghdad tonight.”

“My team?” Liberty smiled.

“Don’t feel so flattered just yet,” Kendrick said. “Your mission is no picnic. Not so much gunslinging, but finding facts, gathering intelligence, and verifying witness claims, so the director and the attorney general can make a solid recommendation to the president. All undercover and highly classified. That’s the hard part. Keeping your cover locked tight. I warn you, any gunplay had better stand righteous and well justified.”

“But, my team, sir?” she asked, still smiling.

“Yes, your team. I’ve got faith in your moxie,” Kendrick said. “But it’s your ass if anything goes awry.”

Kendrick pulled a thick folder from a stack of wire baskets on his credenza and slid it across his desk for Liberty to take.

“You might tuck that someplace safe,” he said. “Travel orders, vouchers, authorizations for weapons, points of contact, clearances, letters of access and authorization signed by the director, should you hit any snags.”

“And what if some people don’t want to honor these documents?” Liberty asked.

“You have my mobile number. Call me twenty-four/seven,” Kendrick said. “I have the director’s mobile number, twenty-four/seven, and he has the hotline to the president.”

Kendrick pointed his finger at her. “Don’t take shit from anybody, especially that weasel running Malone-Leyva who you had your little one-nighter with some time back.”

Liberty’s eyes opened wide. “You’re watching me?”

“We’re watching him,” Kendrick said.

“I am so embarrassed,” Liberty said. “We met at that security industry party at the Washingtonian. So long ago, I had almost forgotten it. Cesare Alosi, what a scumbag. I caught him going through my laptop and reading my email. I threw him out and never spoke to him again.”

“He’s got your picture on his desk in Baghdad,” Kendrick said.

Liberty’s eyes got bigger. “Sir! I had no idea he even had a picture of me! I have nothing to do with him!”

Kendrick laughed. “Relax. We know. We checked. You passed muster. But you might use his attraction to you to our advantage.”

“I’m not going to bed with that guy if that’s what you’re suggesting,” Liberty snapped. “Don’t ever consider using me in any kind of romantic relationship with him or anyone else. I’m not that person. Frankly, sir, I’m offended that you would even suggest it.”

“Look, Agent Cruz,” Kendrick said. “I’m not suggesting anything of the sort. Your familiarity with him is an intelligence advantage, that’s all. Use his fondness for you as a tool, or don’t use it. I wouldn’t dare go there, to suggest you compromise your integrity, and you ought to know it. However, Mr. Alosi does have your picture on his desk, and obviously has an attraction to you. Use that fact at your discretion. I’m just saying, it may open doors.”

“Judging by what I’ve learned about Cesare after the fact, some very dangerous doors,” Liberty added.

“Very dangerous indeed,” Kendrick agreed. “That’s why you have a three-man enhanced tactical team assigned to provide you high cover at all times. Cesare Alosi and his boss, Victor Malone, the company’s owner, won’t hesitate to eliminate any threat. And I mean with extreme prejudice.”

Liberty gave him a look, reality soaking in.

Kendrick made a motion to his coffeepot and cups, and Liberty took him up on the invitation.

As he filled both cups, Kendrick continued, “We also have three undercover intelligence operators working on the inside at Malone-Leyva. Just so you’re aware. In addition to your high cover, we’ve got these guys, who are amply capable to step up if you need help.”