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“I’ll make the introductions brief so we can get started. As I mentioned to all of you when you came in, I’m Director Charles Broderick. Before you ask, I was a former Marine turned Raider, moving up through the ranks until asked to work with the president directly. Jagger Stone, also a highly decorated Marine Raider sanctioned to Black Ops, nickname Cobra. Santiago Rodriguez, former Army Ranger also moved to Black Ops, codename Viper. Finally, Gabriel Barrington, a highly respected former Navy SEAL serving as a Black Ops team leader, codename Shark.” He looked at each other of us then pressed a finger on the keyboard of the computer in front of him.
A logo flashed onto the screen, but only briefly. Eagle Force. I gazed at the meaning, almost laughing. Who the hell was this guy kidding? While I’d participated in a solid two dozen covert operations during my stint in the army, the private function had a set of rules all its own. That’s what concerned me.
“You will erase the name of the organization from your memory banks,” the director stated. “If you are ever captured or questioned, you are simply working for the United States government.” He moved around the computer, his gaze shifting between the three of us. I wasn’t certain I liked his attitude. “As noted, this is a private, sanctioned, yet invisible division of the government. There are very few people who will ever know of our existence.”
“Who the hell are we eliminating?” I asked, glancing toward Cobra, his sneer amusing. The other two weren’t any surer about the operation than I was.
“Whoever is necessary in order to achieve your goal.” Broderick moved to a locked cabinet, pressing his fingers against the scanning pad. Then he removed three iPads, handing them out. “These are your lifelines and must be protected at all costs. There is a button that you must press if you are compromised. That will destroy the unit in your hands.”
I barely glanced at the damn thing, still scanning the room, denoting the various types of equipment. They’d spared no expense in providing us with methods necessary in performing our hired duties. I had to wonder what kind of weapons they preferred using.
“Our work is vital to the security of the United States, gentlemen. As such, we only accept the best into this elite division. The three of you are considered the best at what you do. While you are allowed to hire temporary individuals for certain necessary operations, you will mostly be on your own. You have a single point of contact for every mission, but only request assistance if absolutely necessary. Our enemies will stop at nothing to obtain information, our technology and the mark you’ve been assigned to rescue or protect… Are there any questions?” Broderick had obviously rehearsed the speech more than once. However, I was even more curious as to the assignment.
“Yeah. How much are we getting paid?” Shark asked, his sneer almost laughable. If the man thought he was going to shove his weight around, he was a fool. What the hell kind of moniker was Shark?
The director returned to the locked cabinet, removing three envelopes, once again doling them out. He waited until he’d returned to the computer system before addressing the question. “Inside you will find passcodes, keys to several vehicles at your disposal, and other pertinent information including your compensation package. All three of you have been given your first assignments. After that, the missions will come as needed. In between, you are allowed to return to your normal lives, but no one is to know about the existence of this location or the work you are doing. And I assure you, gentlemen, you will be monitored.”
As Cobra asked about the facility, I pulled the flap on the envelope, peering inside. A million bucks? Really? Just who the hell was I protecting?
“This is a sanctuary as well as the headquarters of the operation for now. However, it will be altered from time to time in order to protect our anonymity. Your fingerprints and retinal scans have been uploaded into the main computer system so at this point, you have full access to every room and piece of equipment. The house is nothing more than a furnished environment that each one of you will be allowed to use on a temporary basis if necessary. As you might imagine, that will need to be coordinated. However, you will be responsible for providing a more permanent safe location for the marks as required. Tell no one. Not even me.”
I’d driven to Warrenton, Virginia, the rural area perfect to hide a building of this nature. On the outside, it appeared to be nothing but a typical farmhouse in the middle of rolling green hills and pastures. Even the interior appeared as if a typical family lived in the house. But in the basement underneath was an entire highly secured facility of several rooms and garages, all equipped with state-of-the-art military items. A war could be started from here and no one would be the wiser.
“And what if we get into trouble?” I asked, although I already knew the damn answer. This was a mission that had to succeed and given the extreme circumstances, assistance would likely be ignored. That was the way of covert operations. Do or die. There was no in between.
“That will depend on the situation and what your handler determines is necessary,” the director answered.
“In other words, soldiers, we could be left to die,” Cobra stated, increased anger in his voice.
I watched the way the director glared at him, as if the concept wasn’t on the table for discussion. My gut was telling me we’d been selected for two reasons. One—our high level of skills and lack of humanity when it came to the enemy. And two—we were considered expendable, more so than dozens, hundreds of other soldiers who could be placed into this position. Fuck this. I looked away, taking several deep breaths, my muscles tense.
I craved danger, more so than normal human beings. I’d missed the action, the aspect of peril breathing down my neck. The rush of adrenaline was just as necessary as the air I breathed. Still, accepting the position had already dragged demons from my past into the forefront of my mind.
“You will find your initial passcodes to get into your lifeline as well as your communication device, which will be handed out momentarily. Please take a moment to study your targets. You will also need to change your passcodes to a unique series of numbers and symbols that you will memorize,” the director continued.
After a few seconds, I reached into the envelope again, yanking out the additional paperwork. As I placed the items on one of the tables then punched in the code, the face of the mark appeared on the screen. The look in her eyes intrigued the hell out of me. Not only was she beautiful, her gaze the kind that would bore a hole through every man’s soul, but there was a haunting yet defiant look that appealed to my sense of duty.
It also sent a bolt of desire and electricity unlike anything I’d felt in one hell of a long time. I barely had time to flip through the various screens when I felt the director’s presence behind me.
“Major Rodriguez. I need to speak with you in private for a moment.” It wasn’t a question but a statement.
I lifted my head from the iPad I’d been given along with the other two ranking soldiers in the room. I glanced at the others, already weary of the clandestine operations. Since being tracked down, called to a special and very private meeting at the Pentagon, I’d had very little time to myself. While I’d initially been intrigued by the secretive nature of whatever organization had been developed for purposes of national security, the lack of information had remained a red flag in my mind.
I didn’t like going into any situation without full knowledge of what I was getting myself in the middle of. This was no exception, even if the mission I’d already been assigned paid a hefty sum, which promised of others in the future.
Director Charles Broderick was a general, a supposed friend of the new soon to be outgoing president. Now he was our team leader, a man pulling all the strings. So far, I’d been grilled on my personal views, asked a thousand unwarranted questions about my personal life, and forced to undergo both a medical and psychological test that would rival ones for any astronaut. I had the distinct feeling whatever he was about to tell me would push this particular mission into an entirely different category of danger.
In his hand was another file, one he was clutching with enough force his damn knuckles were white.
I trailed behind him into the hallway, watching as he shoved his other hand into his pocket, immediately pacing the floor. He finally threw a quick glance in my direction a few seconds later.
“Look, this particular mission is dicey as hell, fucking impossible to achieve if you ask me.”
“And why is that?” I asked casually as I leaned against the wall.
“The mark was kidnapped right outside a coffee shop in the middle of a fucking afternoon. We weren’t called for a full day so by that point, we’d lost a hell of a lot of traction, but our sources managed to find the trail which led us to South America, Brazil to be exact. Now, if the intel is correct, the mark was taken to a highly secured facility dead in the jungle owned by a man known as the King.”
“I’ve heard of him.” The fucker was kingpin on steroids, more of a threat to the corporate business world than national security, but when he set his sights on something, that world came crashing down at his feet. He was a merciless killer, enjoying the blood sport.
