Chapter 19- Tipping Point

Chapter 19

Tipping Point

Satcom, Somewhere in Virginia

“General, I think you need to take this phone call,” said a non-com.  He held the phone away from his body as if he was afraid it was about to explode.  General Petersen stood up, managed to just about keep the pain from showing on his face and then walked over to the phone.

“Petersen here,” he said into the phone.

“This is Hayden McDonald, do you know who I am?” asked a voice with a raspy New York accent.

“I’m not an idiot Mr McDonald.  What can I do for the President’s chief of staff?”

“General, the President has been made aware of the situation and he’s not very happy.  I’m not very happy either.  When I’m not happy, that means that heads will roll,”

“Mr McDonald, I don’t have time for this. I’m not some fucking punk congressman from Wisconsin that you can push around, I’m a General in the US army with an important mission.  If the President wants to fire me when this is all over, that’s fine by me,” fired back the General.

There was a laugh from the phone.  “Oh good one General, I’d heard that about you, that you didn’t give a crap for politics.  That makes a change.  I’d also heard that you don’t like the President very much too,” said McDonald.

“That’s true but irrelevant.  I’ve got a job to do and you are getting in the fucking way.  Now what do you and the President need?” asked Petersen, massaging his head.  Sickles was stood by, watching the General carefully.

“What do you know about an operational base called Briar?” asked McDonald.

Petersen closed his eyes for a minute and then remembered it all.

“Briar, that was shut down years ago.  It was a special operations base running out of some fucking dust-heap in Afghansitan,” replied the General.

“Yes it was.  It was shut down too, that was one of the tasks of this administration, to shut down anything that we felt would further embarrass the White House and the country,”

“Fine,” said Petersen.  “What do you want?”

“Briar is still giving orders.  Someone has reactivated Briar and is giving orders from it.  The orders to move Arctic Blue came from Briar,” said McDonald.

“I see, “said Petersen.  He felt a flare of pain in his back.  He put a hand to the ear piece for a moment.

“Someone get me some coffee, not so hot that I could boil a chicken in it?” he barked at no one in particular.  Another non-com moved fast to put a cup down next to him.

“General?” asked the New Yorker on the other end of the line.

“I’m here.  So what, we’ve got a rogue operation giving orders without permission?  That’s not news,” growled the General.

“No, but it’s Briar giving the orders.  Obviously they cant be in Afghanistan, but we need to find them and shut them down.  Do you have men that you trust in the base?  I mean really trust?”

“One or two.  But our hands are entirely full here,” replied the General.

“Free a hand or two.  We need you to find Briar and shut it down.  We think it may be interfering in your operation in South America,”

“What are they?  Fucking morons?” yelled the General.

“It could be worse than that, “ replied McDonald.

“How?” but it had already dawned on him how it could be worse.  In a military scenario, the only thing worse than someone on your team being incompetent was either them being insane or them being a double agent.

“Ok, I’ll see what I can do, Petersen out,”

Villa Cyrannao, Venzeuala,

It finally hit Dalton, and when it did, it landed like an avalanche.  Wharton had gone through the possible M.O of one of these infiltrators, on how he figured they would strike when they were alone so they could finish what they were doing without being observed.

“What’s the point in being able to shape shift if everyone sees you do it?” he had postulated.

“They may also pretend to be injured or mentally incapable so they can be separated from the others,” added Wharton.

“Why?” asked Dietz.

“They need an excuse to always be on their own I guess, “said Chung.

“Someone who wants to be alone, who is mentally or physically incapable,” said Dalton to himself.

Dalton pulled his side-arm from his holster and checked the magazine.

“What is it?” asked Dietz.

“Roman, you take charge here.  I need two men, quickly.  I think I have an idea who one of them is,” said Dalton.  Sergeant Harrison immediately stepped forward.

“I’ll come,” Said Wharton.

“No, you stay here,” Snapped Dalton.  “Roburn?”

“Yeah I’m in sir,” replied Roburn. 

“Now everyone else, you’re going to work with Dietz to try and find a way to test these people to find out who is who.  Also I want a two man team to work with our civilian advisor here, go through the village and start sweeping it out.  If possible, we need to isolate the villagers as quickly as possible,”

“Yes sir,” came the response.  Dalton felt a bit of weight lift off his shoulders, they were following his lead again.

“Ok, come on we need to get to the chopper and fast,” said Dalton.

“Why?  What’s going on?” asked Roburn.

“Who hasn’t been pulling his weight?  Who hurt his leg early on?” said Dalton.

The three of them took off at a fast clip. 

Specialist Lyle Hunter watched them leave.  The others were involved in another scientific debate.  This sort of thing was wasted on him.  He stood by the door and took out another packet of cigarettes.  He looked around and saw that Storm was equally bored.

“Smoke break?” said Hunter.

“Fuck yeah,” replied Storm.

Villa Escobar, Venezeula

“Cap, we’ve got a foot mobile approaching,” shouted Sergeant Timmons.

Captain Price moved over to the perimeter and looked down his sights.  Sure enough there was a man, alone, walking towards the village.  He looked to be around forty or so and was carrying a bundle of twigs.  Firewood, he supposed.

“Cap?” asked Timmons.

“We’ve had our orders, light him the fuck up,” snarled the Captain.

Timmons patted Specialist Veers on the head.  Veers opened fire with the SAW, a drum-fed machine gun that could fire nine hundred rounds in a minute.  The first few rounds hit the man square on in the chest, there was a puff of red and pink around him and then he fell without a sound.

The other villagers screamed and cried out.  Some ran for cover, one or two just stood their watching them.

“Lesnoswki, secure those people right now.  Odell, Smith, you’re with me,” said the Captain.  He felt that a good officer never gave out the very worst assignment unless he too was willing to do it.  Smith toted the flamethrower, Odell had his SAW.

The three of them approached the dead man, as he was clearly that.  There was an expanding pool of blood around him.

“Fuckin’ superb groupin’ there,” laughed Smith.  Odell and Price exchanged weary looks.

“Ok, Smith, burn him,” said Price.

“Got you sir,” said Smith.  He triggered the flame-thrower and the man’s body caught fire quickly.  Another blast of glowing flame and he was consumed, along with the wood he’d come to get.

“Fucking crazy,” said Odell.  Price wasn’t sure whether he agreed or not.

“We have our orders, back to the perimeter,”

Satcom, somewhere in Virginia

General Petersen was on the radio.  Sickles watched him carefully.  He had tried to get close enough to him to overhear what he was saying but he was too far away.  He was clearly used to being spied on as he had careful check points set out.  The only name he’d overheard so far was Pierce.

“Pierce,” said Sickles to himself.  Sickles had a good mind for names and ranks, it was part of his trade.  But no one could possibly remember every single senior officer in the US armed forces.  Between the air force, the army and the marines there were probably thousands of General officers.

James Sickles walked backwards and forwards for a moment. 

“Colonel, we’ve got a radio check in from Adams,” said a tech-sergeant.

“Give it here,” replied Sickles.  “Sickles here, what’s the status?”

“Isolated and shut down.  The casualty didn’t survive.  Repeat, Captain Wharton is K.I.A,”

“Not really that surprised” replied Sickles.

“The team is clean but I’m leaving them here for now,” came Adams’s voice.

“Good man.  Can you get back in here through de-con?  I need you in here?”

“You need me?” came the surprised reply.

“Well the General does,” said Sickles.

“I’ll go through De-con and meet you in a bit, Adams out,” came the reply.

Sickles looked around the room, most of the staff here were hand picked by the General himself, most of them had relied on him for personal advancement.  They were loyal to him.  But who was the General loyal to?

He looked over at Lt Molly Walker.  She was typing away at a computer screen.

Sickles put a hand on the shoulder of  a non-com, Sergeant Spriggs.  “Sarge, take over that screen for a moment, I need Lieutenant Walker,” Spriggs gave him a reproachful look but did what he was told.  Walker got up, looked warily at the Colonel and then walked over to him.

“In private, Lieutenant,” said the Colonel.

“Colonel, I don’t have time for this.  The General said that I’ve got to get these referenes done and I will not let him down,”

“Ok ok, lets just stand to one side so I can talk to you without being overheard by every one in the room” said Sickles, the tiredness showing in his voice.

She stood near the door and he stood just to her side.  She looked scared.  Sickles stood back a step.

“Lieutenant, how long have you known the General?” he asked.

“Why?” she replied.

“Answer my question Lieutentant.” He snarled.  She blinked at him a couple of times and then replied.

“Since the Point, Colonel.  So that’s about eighteen months,”

“And how do you rate him as a commanding officer?” asked Sickles.

“He’s the best,” she said, the admiration very clear in her tone.  It was genuine, she really looked up to him.  Sickles shook his head.

“Do you think the others here would follow his orders, any orders at all?” asked Sickles.

“I think so,” she said back.  “What’s wrong?”

“That’s just it,” he said.  “Right now I’m not sure what is wrong.  Someone is running an illegal operation,”

“And you’re not sure if its us or not are you?” asked Molly.

“You’re a bright girl.  You could go a long way with brains like that.  Now how far do you want to go?” he asked her.  It was a loaded question.  More loaded than she could