Brad Taylor - The Polaris Protocol

Didn’t mean I had to like it.

I saw the flash of headlights, and a car pulled in right next to us, killing the engine. I recognized the driver but went through the stupid dance of bona fides required by some Taskforce James Bond regulation. Eventually, the driver entered our car.

I said, “Hey, Spanky. Long time no see.”

His face broke into a grin. “They told me you had done the recce, but I thought for sure they were full of shit. Since when do you pull support? Why aren’t you going in?”

“Oversight Council. Jennifer, give him the data.”

For the first time, Spanky noticed who was sitting next to me. Well, noticed she was female. Honestly, I was unsure how this would go, as Jennifer was still a little bit of a novelty due to the cellular structure of the Taskforce. Most members had never seen her, much less operated with her, and I knew that plenty of people despised her because of her gender alone.

He said, “Wow. So I’m getting briefed by a celebrity. Jennifer Cahill. Aka Koko. In the flesh.”

I saw hesitation flit across her face and knew she was unclear on how to proceed. I felt the same way, wondering if he was paying her a compliment or about to piss me off. I opened my mouth to clear the air when he continued. “I heard about that call in Mexico. Gutsy shit.”

That was it. Not much in the way of words, but all he had to say. The Taskforce was like a high school in many ways, with rumor and innuendo flying through its ranks due to the secrecy embedded in its construction. Made up of humans—very, very smart humans—who didn’t like to be kept in the dark, it was tribal, with tales passed by word of mouth at the shooting range or on the combatives mat. He’d just told me that Jennifer’s word of mouth was better than good.

She nodded tentatively, then said, “You want the rest of the team to hear this? It’s a little complicated.”

“Yeah. It’s just two of us, with a computer geek as a snap link. Bring the laptop to my car.”

Twenty minutes later and she was done, back in my vehicle. I waved to Spanky and pulled away, hating the fact that we weren’t playing.

Jennifer said, “He’s pretty nice. I thought that would be harder.”

“Why? You had all the information they’d need. Did they agree with your plan?”

“Well, yeah, I guess they had to. I didn’t have another idea. He asked a couple of questions like he didn’t want to execute a climb, but that’s what I’d do. I guess I should have made a plan based on no skill.”

I broke into a grin, wondering if I’d ever get the chance to stab Spanky in the eye with that comment.

Earlier, waiting on approval from Kurt, I’d kicked Jennifer from the car to play the “lady out for a stroll” while I took video from our vehicle on the target house. Since all I had done was take pictures, I’d tasked Jennifer with coming up with a plan. She’d briefed me her idea, basically sneaking in from the back deck using a caving ladder, but she hadn’t wanted to be responsible for telling the team. She wanted me to do so because of my referent firepower in the Taskforce, an idea I’d automatically shit-canned. There was nothing worse than someone else briefing your plan. I mean nothing.

I said, “Did he think your course of action was weak? Or was it because you’d come up with the plan?”

She thought for a moment, then said, “Neither. I think he was afraid of making the computer guy climb. But there was no other way.”

I laughed, started the car, and said, “He’s just pissed that he didn’t prepare for contingencies. Good to go. Get Kurt on the phone.”

She dug through her purse, and in the overhead glow from a streetlight I saw blood on her forearm, seeping through the bandage. Much worse than should have been happening. Reminding me how this wasn’t all fun and games. I said, “What’s up with your wound?”

“Nothing.” She dialed, then passed me the cell. “The butterfly bandages aren’t holding, that’s all.”

I started to respond, then heard a voice on the line. I scowled at her, knowing she’d handed the phone over precisely to prevent the conversation.

It was Kurt. I gave him a SITREP, then asked how the timing was going for my brilliant plan.

“Police are alerted. Shouldn’t be too long now. Oversight Council has the ball. They’ve already prepped the groundwork. Just waiting on the trigger.”

“How long before the video is released?”

“We don’t really know. Supposedly in the next few hours. We might actually get the arrest before it goes out, but even if we don’t we’re okay.”

“Sounds good. I have to get Jennifer to an emergency room. Her cut has busted open. I’ll be on my cell. Let me know.”

Kurt said, “I’ll do better than that. Your team is in town. The Colorado thing is blowing over. The fingerprints from the dead guy are tracing back to Mexico, tied into a bunch of drug cartel killings. Nothing to do with the team. The police are on a totally different trail now and spun up about the cartels being in Colorado. It was significant enough to bring in the DEA. They couldn’t care less about a bar fight. The worst of it is going to be a large fine for public drunkenness and disorderly conduct.”

I leaned back in the seat, thinking about the circumstances. About how the dead hit man was going to provide cover for our team. About how I had been prevented from bringing out his body, and now that was going to draw attention away from our mission. About the random events that had caused the outcome.

I said, “That’s probably the best news I’ve heard in days.”

“After your last SITREP, I’m sure it is. Decoy’s waiting with a full med bag. Skip the emergency room.”

I put the car in gear, saying, “Where are they?”

“Twenty-Second Street Embassy Suites. They’re waiting on you at the bar. They’ve already reserved a couple of rooms for you and Jennifer. I’m going to need you in town for a few days, just in case.”

I looked at Jennifer and said, “I can deal with that. No problem.”

*

We arrived at the Embassy Suites and moved straight to the restaurant in the back. It was closing in on one in the morning, but I wanted to see the team before crashing. We entered and they were all there, drinking around a table and telling lies. They saw us and waved. Decoy stood up and took Jennifer’s hand, stretching out her arm and checking out her bandaged wound. He was surprisingly tender, given his reputation as a man-whore.

“I understand you could use my skills again.”

She smiled and said, “Yeah. I guess so. I’m not as indestructible as you guys.”

From the table, Knuckles grinned back, saying, “Nobody is. In our own minds.”

She and Decoy walked away, and I got the skinny on what had happened after I’d flown out. In between talking, we watched the television like we were tallying precinct votes on an election night, waiting on the story.

I waited for a break in the conversation, then leaned into Knuckles and said, “You didn’t tell anyone, did you? Nobody knows about Jennifer and me, right?”

He said, “Pike, I haven’t said a word. Honestly, if you can make the right decisions, like you did in Mexico, I’m good with it.”

“What about the team? You didn’t say anything to them?”

“No. Not a word. Unlike you, when I say I won’t do something, I don’t.”

I grimaced and said, “Knuckles, it wasn’t like that. It just happened. I didn’t ask for it.”

He smiled and said, “Yes, you did.”

Before I could answer, Blood said, “Here it is.”

On the screen was a local newsman talking about an arrest for child pornography. The story would have been small, but it involved a very, very influential member of the political establishment, and in Washington, DC, that’s all it took. The newscaster made a point of saying that it wasn’t clear whether the computers in question had been from the father or the son.