Chapter Fifty-one

"You're working late, Gold." Major Vic Morrow, head of Intelligence at Fort Brookes noted as he locked and closed the door to his office, preparing to head home for the weekend.

The Staff Sergeant looked up from files that were spread out across his desk. "Just tying up some loose ends, Sir."

"Working on the Alarian case then?" Morrow nodded towards the paperwork.

"No,Sir; I completed my analysis of that and submitted it for Lieutenant Card to review."

The Major walked over and sat in a seat at desk adjacent to Gold's. "Paul, you're still working on the Mills case." He sighed. "We've closed that file and need to move on."

Gold leaned back in his chair and rubbed his chin, noting the slight stubble that had grown in since the morning. "Major, I've completed all of the other assignments you've given me this week. I haven't neglected any of my duties, and I am willing to stay late, on my own time, for this."

The hum of the air conditioner kicking on filled the silence as Morrow picked his words carefully before speaking. "My first case still haunts me," he confessed, noting that he had Gold's attention. "There was a rumor from a Senator that a small contingent of Republic soldiers were involved in the capture and selling of women, girls really, from the Trunai Region. Their government had recently been overthrown by rebels and a new, fragile peace treaty was in place. Our soldiers were there as part of the Nations United Front to make sure the peace held."

Morrow looked down and worried his hands together. "I had listened to hour and hours of tapes; phone calls, radio intercepts, local live chatter on short-band stations, anything we could get our hands on to figure out what was going on."

He licked his dry lips and shook his head. "I was listening to one shortwave I had intercepted, a local man speaking over the airwaves to his Uncle who lived about an hour from him. I don't know." He shrugged. "It was just like the rest, a lot of talk about the weather, how the government seemed to be holding together and how the crops were doing. And then I heard a woman scream. The man yelled at someone, a Peacekeeper, he called them. Begging that they leave his daughter alone, offering them all the money he had. His Uncle was yelling at him, trying to figure out what was happening. All this noise and then the line was silent for two minutes, I thought it might have been disconnected. But then the man came back on and said 'They have Irena.' He broke down sobbing and then the connection was dropped."

"I searched for weeks, trying to triangulate what town the man was from, based on the radio frequencies and his call sign. I read online papers and official reports and anything I could get my hands on to find out what happened to his daughter, Irena. And, more importantly, if our soldiers were involved in her kidnapping."

Morrow stood and rubbed the back of his neck. "We were able to eventually ascertain that seven Republic soldiers were involved in human trafficking, working with some Rebels who were now the official government. They were targeting families who were reportedly loyal to the old regime. I never figured it out until a couple years later I was reading an intelligence report from Nations United that Irena was the daughter of a former diplomat; she was sold into slavery and killed one year later trying to escape her captors."

"I beat myself up, sure that I had missed something that could have saved her life, or broken open the case. It took us eighteen months before we were able to piece together how they were smuggling the women across the border and who was involved. The Republic soldiers were paid ten thousand dollars each for every woman successfully relocated, as they called it. Over two hundred women and girls were taken; only thirty were ever returned back home to Trunai. All seven soldiers were killed by the rebels they were working with once they were discovered."

He looked Gold in the eyes. "I didn't know this woman, or any of the soldiers that were involved in the incident. But, that didn't stop me from still having nightmares for years after about what happened. We do the best we can, Paul and then we have to move on. There are other soldiers, other citizens, other security issues that come to us everyday. If we never let go of our first case, we could never help the countless others who need us."

Gold closed one of the files on his desk and tapped his finger on it. "I realize that it might seem that I'm obsessing. I know we closed the file and passed it on to JAG. But if there are two things you've taught me, it's that I need to listen to my gut instincts and that juggling multiple cases is a challenge, that prioritization is key to success."

Morrow shook his head and softly snorted. "If I've only taught you two things, then you're a slow learner."

Rum smiled back at his superior officer. "Well, you did tell me that we aren't in intelligence because we're stupid. I've learned a lot more." He assured the Major.

He tapped the file again. "But, I am missing something. I know it."

Morrow sat back down and leaned forward, elbows on his knees. "Alright, what have you got?"

Gold spread out the papers again on his desk. "If Miss Mills wins and walks away a free woman, who loses?"

"Her company is out of business, her mother is dead and half of our Fort leadership team is either deceased or in custody. I'd say there are plenty of losers here." Morrow countered.

"It bothers me that we never identified anyone as a Club. I mean, General King and his team were the Spades and those with lesser authority, or those who took direct orders from the Spades were designated as Diamonds. Cora Mills and her conspirators were Hearts, but we never figured out if there were Clubs."

"And you think there are still players out there?"

"I do. Camp Azor is supposed to be on lockdown, but the CIA and JAG are both there."

"No, they're not, the Camp is on complete lockdown. Nobody in or out."

"And yet," Gold pulled out a flight schedule from Mingus AFB to Riendahl Airfield. "There was a flight in four days ago, I verified it landed, and a flight scheduled back to Mingus tomorrow. Here's the passenger list."

Morrow took the proffered sheet of paper and studied it. "You're positive?"

"I am. I researched the names on the list and verified they are TDA from their offices. All covertly of course. Major, why am I not able to find any personal details on these three names?"

"They're Black Ops." Morrow handed the sheet back. "Technically they're not part of the military, but a branch unto themselves."

"And their purpose?"

"To follow orders."

"Who's orders?"

"That's what we need to figure out." Morrow scratched his head.

"What do they do?"

"Things the military legally can't." Morrow paused before elaborating. "They're mostly former military who have been diagnosed with an antisocial personality disorder. There is a committee in government who review cases where a soldier's behavior may have contributed to an unfavorable situation. They then hand pick their candidates, have them ran through a battery of psychological testing and select the ones they think are most able to do the dirty work. The others are medically discharged from the military or are serving time in prison at Fort Shovahl."

"So, they are trained to kill." Rum stated.

"Aren't we all, soldier?" Morrow countered.

"Trained, yes. In defense of ourselves or to protect the Republic's interests. But not to take a kill shot because we enjoy it."

"I don't know if the Black Operatives enjoy it, but they are willing to do it and can still sleep at night. Someone has to, Gold. Thank the Gods it isn't us."

"So, Cora Mills?"

"Yes." Morrow confirmed Gold's suspicions of how the older Mills woman had died.

"And who are they there for now? Because Major, if they are a threat to my team, I will take them down one way or another, if its the last thing I do."

"Paul, I understand your concerns, and I don't have the answers. But let me make a couple discreet phone calls and see what I can find out. As far as the military is concerned though, this case is closed on our end. If you plan to pursue it, you will need to become a dark one."

"Dark one?" Gold's forehead furrowed at the unfamiliar term.

"It's slang. Intelligence officers aren't officially allowed to continue using time or resources to ferret out information about a closed case. Dark ones are those who chose to do so, at the risk of their career and possibly their own lives. You do this, I can't officially support or know about it."

"And if I find out any information that would lead to the case being reopened?"

"Then we can reopen it. But until then, you work on your own time and if you get caught, I can't protect you. Be smart, don't take anything out of this office, create a dummy file in your systems and bury the information there. If someone is onto you, you will have a game of cat and mouse and chances are the person who is the cat is as smart and clever as you are."

"Understood." Rum gathered the sheets back into their files, slipping them into his desk drawer before locking it. "Will you at least tell me what you find out in the phone calls?"

"Yes, I will. Sit tight."

Rum watched as the Major entered his office and closed the door before he put a tracer search out into the dark web.

Major Morrow sat calmly at his desk, his voice not betraying the anger that was building up as he spoke to the Senator. "Randall, I understand there is public outrage at the Mills Corporation." He listened as the politician talked, making notes on a pad of paper. "Yes, your constituents have a right to know the truth and I'm sure your re-election is the utmost priority for you." More listening and more note taking followed before he wrapped up the call. "Senator, I appreciate your time. Good luck with your campaign."

He blew out a long breath and reread his notes before calling Gold into his office. "Have a seat, Gold." The Staff Sergeant sat across the desk from the Major. "I spoke to someone on the Senate Intelligence Committee. The Senator had mentioned that the citizens of the Republic were demanding justice, and Regina Mills head on a platter was the only thing that would satisfy his constituents."

Rum cocked his head. "Sir, other than one small article from two weeks ago, there hasn't been any public discussion or debate about this situation. Nothing on news stations, social media, or anywhere I've looked. I don't know what the Senator is referring to. What if..."

"You know I hate 'what ifs." Morrow argued.

"I do Sir, but bear with me." He continued when the Major nodded. "I had asked you who would lose if Regina Mills won. What if there is a person or a group of persons who have a financial stake in this whole deal? People who could put a target on innocent lives, including my team and Miss Mills."

"Then they have a lot of power or money. Or both."

Gold snapped his fingers as he recalled "In a tape from Master Sergeant Swan, Regina mentioned that her Mother was the business woman, but it seems that her Father was the one with all the connections. After all, General King was Regina's Godfather because of a friendship forged between the General and Henry Mills when they served together in the Army."

Morrow picked up Gold's thread of thought. "And if he was that close to General King, he probably has connections throughout the military and the government."

"Major, who ordered the hit on Cora Mills?"

"I don't know, but it wasn't a military call."

"Who else has access to our Intel?"

"Routinely, other members of Army Intelligence who verify our findings. And, by request, members of the Congress Intelligence Committees."

"Is there a way to find out if anyone has requested any files?"

"Hmmm, I think I could pull,that off without raising suspicions." Morrow tapped on his keyboard.

"So, I won't know till Monday." Rum lamented.

"No, I'll hang out till they're back. I have a couple feelers I want to put out, too. See if you're onto something. Probably be an hour or so till we get any response." Morrow stood and started up the coffee pot. "Did I ever tell you that my father served in the Kanjagi War?"

"No, Sir, I don't believe you've mentioned that."

Morrow chuckled. "They dubbed it the Battle of Bows and Branches. The local allies didn't use rifles or pistols, so to blend in, our soldiers had to use bows as well. Fortunately there were already some recruits that were well trained in bow hunting. Mostly from poorer families that relied on hunting to live." He carefully poured two cups of steaming coffee and offered one to Gold.

Sitting back down, he continued. "My Grandfather was a commissioned officer over one Company that had a platoon from the south. He said they were sixty of the toughest soldiers he ever served with. There were three Corporals in particular that stood out, for starters because they were all women. But mostly, between the three of them, they took down an entire stronghold of forty-five enemies in less than ten minutes."

Rum sipped the hot brew. "Sir, while I appreciate the stroll down memory lane, might I ask what that has to do with our current situation?"

The Major seemingly ignored the brusque question. "One of the women left the military when her four year tour was up. One went on to become a Senator and one stayed in the Army, but switched to Culinary Arts. She became an officer and is currently in her thirty-fourth year of service."

"How wonderful for her." Gold replied drolly.

"Culinary arts is a cover, though she does excel at it. She is, in fact, one of the most respected operatives in the field today." The Major turned his computer monitor so that Gold could view it. "Captain Eugenia Lucas, code name Granny."

'I Know her." Gold studied the older woman's profile picture. "She's at Azor."

"Indeed. She's been slinging hash and gathering intel for nearly a decade in the Frey. If anyone came onto base recently, she would know it."

"And you can contact her?" Rum leaned forward.

"Without anybody even knowing." Morrow smiled as he typed on his keyboard and then sat back and waited. Within ten minutes his computer softly chimed. "According to Granny, Fort Azor is still on lockdown, but three FBI and three JAG staff are on base." Morrow typed a response. "No sign of the Lost Boys."

"Lost Boys?"

"Sorry, slang for the Black Ops." He continued typing. "Master Sergeant Swan, her team, Regina Mills, Lieutenant Belle French, and Corporal Ruby Hood are all sequestered off base and under guard by Staff Sergeant Karjens, whom you're familiar with, and her fireteam."

They both waited for more intel to come from Captain Lucas.

"Okay, Lucas says that she can get word through Ruby to Swan if we need to contact her." The Major typed a few more sentences. "She also,says it's late where we are and we both probably better eat a good meal if we are working through the weekend on this one."

Gold nodded. "Sage advice, I best grab some food from the Commissary before I hunker down."

Morrow ran his hand over his scalp. "Grab enough for the both of us; we can get a lot more done working together. You start by digging deeper into Henry and Cora Mills's personal finances." Morrow jotted down thoughts on his notepad. "I'll untangle the web of companies owned by Mills Global and see if there are any investors or shareholders who stand to lose their shirts."

—

I handed Regina her loaded plate of food before sitting down on the couch kitty corner from Regina's chair. "Here's the silverware." I passed the cutlery to the brunette. "And some wet wipes for your hands when you finish the ribs." I had saved myself a generous portion of the wipes, knowing the sauce would soon be covering my fingers, my face and probably even my shirt.

I guess I shouldn't have been surprised when Regina cut into her ribs with her knife and sliced dainty portions of the pork, which she ate with her fork. I was almost embarrassed as I picked up a rib and sucked the sauce from the bone. That was until I caught her staring at me, her bottom lip caught between her teeth. She quickly cleared her throat and looked away.

It didn't take long for us to both finish off our food and for me to use six wipes to clean up my hands and face. I reached for her plate, intending to clean up and wash the dishes, but was stopped by her hand wrapped around my wrist. "You have, um..." She tore open another wet wipe packet and reached towards my mouth. "You missed a few spots." She focused intently while she carefully wiped each of the areas that still were stained in bbq sauce." Releasing my arm she gave me a smile. "I didn't want you to go upstairs looking like a messy child."

I felt the heat from my face go straight south as she touched me. My body responded to even her most innocent touches and it was then I knew how badly I was screwed. The thought of sharing a room with her was causing my body exquisite torture.

"Thanks." I managed to croak as I gathered the last of the mess and quickly escaped to the sink area. I was grateful I could keep my back turned to her as I washed and dried all the dishes we had dirtied. By the time I had gone upstairs and put everything away I felt back in control of my libedo and was ready to behave.

"Hey, Master Sergeant." Nolan sat on a large rock not far from the cabana. His firearm was by his side, his binoculars hung down from the strap around his neck. "I hear you're cleared for duty." He smiled at me as I sat down on another nearby rock.

"Yep." I let the last letter pop from my mouth. "Thanks for covering for my while I was laid up."

"My pleasure." He assured me. "I like the logistical stuff, but to be honest I'll be glad to hand the paperwork part of the job back to you."

"So not fair!" I teased, glad to be back in charge of my little band of soldiers. I noticed Blanchard was in position across the way. "I can take guard duty for part of tonight." I offered, knowing that my team had been pulling extra shifts in my absence.

"Thanks, but neither of us mind covering one more full night. The Enchantii meteor shower peaks tonight, so we'll get to watch it." He pointed towards the southern skies, which were just starting to turn to dusk. "You enjoy your evening off and tomorrow we can go over the schedule and get you back to work. Plus, with the interviews done, we can sleep in tomorrow morning."

I heard loud talking over my shoulder and turned to see Ruby and Belle as the walked towards the thermal pool. "They do this every evening after dinner." Nolan explained. "They stay in there through sunset and then hang out for a few hours under the cabana."

"They've gotten quite close." I watched as they slipped into the warm waters wearing their military green camo tank tops and shorts.

"Yeah. They seem good for each other." Nolan softly agreed. "I'm sure it would be hard to be alone out here in the Frey."

I sighed, knowing just how right he was. I stayed there with him through the sunset, watching as the western horizon turned shades of reds and oranges before darkening once the sun had gone down. It was a beautiful sight in this desolate part of the world. "I better get going." I stood and tested my leg, pleased it seemed quite normal now with no pain. "Radio me if you need me."

"Will do, Swan. Enjoy your night, ma'am." He adjusted his weapon, bringing it closer to him. "I have the guard."

"You have the guard." I reflexively answered.

Padding downstairs into the quietness I spied Regina, curled up in her chair, making notes on a pad. Her forehead was furrowed in concentration and she tapped her pen quickly on the paper before making another notation. I didn't want to interrupt her, but I really didn't want to be alone, so I lied on the couch and tried to just be silent.

It took me a moment to realize that the writing and tapping noises that had been permeating the air for over thirty minutes had stopped. I waited, not wanting to bother the brunette. I heard her sigh as I saw the paper pad tossed facedown onto the table.

"Emma." Her soft timbre filled my ears.

I lifted my head so that I could just see her. "Yeah?"

"Distract me."

"Um," I sat up fully on the couch. "Okay?" I wracked my brain for ideas. "Want to go for a walk?"

"The Oasis isn't that big. It would take a total of ten minutes to do the loop."

"True." I frowned, conceding her point. 'How about a game of pool?"

"No, not pool." Her slight frown softened into a smile.

"Master Sergeant, dance with me?"

"Uh, sure!" I jumped up and promptly tripped over the table when I tried to walk.

She smirked. "Very smooth, Emma."

I felt the fire in my face and knew it was bright red. "Oh, come on, you know I can dance; even if I can't walk."

She took my hand in hers and, pulling me closely whispered. "I count on it."

The warm breath in my ear sent the fire from my face straight down south. I tried to disengage from her embrace and hold her in a proper form. "We don't have any music." I realized in the quietness of the room.

"We should rectify that." She agreed as she continued to hold my hand and pulled me towards our room. We stopped just short of the door where she grabbed her MP3 player. Within moments sultry music filled the silence. She pulled me back to our impromptu dance floor. But, unlike every other time before, Regina took the lead.