He had no choice.
He closed the desktop, deleted the second user profile, then left the office, leaving his coffee mug on his desk.His legs felt weak as he walked out of the (seemingly) empty clinic through the lobby and into the parking lot.The security guard still hadn’t returned.He saw flashing red and blue lights to the north at the opposite corner of the Academy grounds.That’s why security wasn’t here.The same people who had broken into his office had almost certainly caused a diversion so the guards would be pulled away.
That’s how serious they took him.That’s how badly they wanted him to stop.
Those thoughts floated in the back of his mind as he started his engine and left the parking lot.He turned left, heading for home.He noted that and wondered if he should turn around and head to Washington, but he didn’t turn around.
He didn’t stop at home either.He drove straight past the lot and continued south.
The voices warred in his head again.One voice shouted at him to please stop being stupid and just turn around and go to Washington where he could be safe.The other told him that the 93rdTesting Brigade was afraid.That’s why they’d broken into his office.That’s why they’d deleted his research.They were afraid of him.He was close to putting a stop to them.If he had passed that info along to the right authorities, they would be in trouble.
He couldn’t give up.Not now.Everyone let themselves get intimidated, and the Marine Corps kept getting away with this because of it.Not him.He would show courage.He would see this through.
He glanced at the passenger seat where his camera bag with the high-end video camera and the expensive telescoping lens remained packed.He would get some more pictures from the Marine Corps base annex five miles south.He would park behind the annex in the trees instead of on top of the hill across the road.They wouldn’t be able to see him there, but he would see them.
He took a deep breath and released a heavy sigh.This was a very risky act, but Faith would understand.He had to take this risk.What if it was Turk?She’d want someone to take a risk for him.He would take that risk for Sierra.
So, though his throat was dry and his hands still trembled, he kept his eyes firmly on the road ahead.
CHAPTER TWENTY
Corporal Ervin Charles maintained his stoic front when he saw the Subaru switch its lights off as it crested the low hill two miles from the base, but inwardly, he was smiling.Colonel Chastain had been taking half measures for too long.This would finally give Charles the ammunition to take a final measure.
He took his spotting scope off the tripod and placed it into the case, then folded the tripod and placed it next to the scope.He closed the case, latched it, spun the combination locks so it locked, then carried it to his truck and placed it in the toolbox on the right side of the bed.He preferred his motorcycle, but tonight’s assignment required a heavier vehicle.
Chastain was reluctant to threaten the husband of the most famous agent in the FBI.He feared that Faith Bold would bring the entire FBI to bear against the 93rd, and that pressure from the Bureau would cause the Corps to pull back from the project and leave the CIA in a tough spot.He wanted to scare Dr.Friedman away without rocking the boat too much.It was only when the doctor’s behavior escalated to the point that it could attract unwanted attention that he finally acquiesced to the advice of his subordinates and authorized action against him.
Instead, the opposite occurred.Faith Bold knew about the project, and she had passed word along to the Bureau chief.Smythe had called a friend in the Corps, who had covered for the 93rdbut then sent a very angry string of messages to Colonel Chastain asking why he couldn’t maintain secrecy.The Director of PsyOps had sent a single message to Chastain, but that message had been enough to cause Chastain to show fear for the first time in Charles’s experience.
And still, he’d instructed Charles to deliver a warning.Charles had done so, causing a commotion at the Academy and deleting the doctor’s incriminating files, but he knew that wouldn’t be enough.He knew Dr.Friedman wasn’t going to let it go.The others hadn’t let it go.Dr.Friedman would have to suffer the same fate they had.
He would suffer that fate tonight.His rifle would have been easiest, but if Dr.Friedman was shot, the FBI Director might start asking serious questions.If Dr.Friedman suffered an accident while driving home, then it would be a regrettable tragedy that had nothing to do with the 93rdTesting Brigade.Faith Bold might make noise, but everyone would assume she was just distraught.If it came to it, they could arrange for the poor distraught widow to have an accident of her own.
He climbed into the driver’s seat of the deuce and a half and lifted his field glasses to his eyes.The binoculars weren’t nearly as powerful as the spotting scope, but they were more than enough to see the Subaru pull off the road into a stand of trees just behind the gate of the testing facility.In an hour or so, Colonel Chastain and Sergeant Whitaker would return from their assignment in Washington.Dr.Friedman would take his pictures, then head for home, oblivious to the fact that he’d never have a chance to use those pictures against the brigade.
Charles chuckled as he watched Dr.Friedman set up his camera.Sergeant Whitaker’s dog, Asset Sierra-9, was returning from an assignment.He lifted his canteen, took a long draught, replaced it in the center cubby of the truck and settled in to wait.
***
Whitaker’s lips were pressed so thin they disappeared against her face.Her hands were placed directly above her knees, fingers curled so tightly that if her fingernails weren’t trimmed religiously twice a week they would bite into her palms.
Colonel Chastain sat next to her, frowning darkly.Whitaker didn’t blame him.They’d spent over fifteen hundred man-hours working with Sierra-9, and they still didn’t have enough control over her to execute the simplest of missions.The damned dog had just stood in front of the target like a fucking statue.Never even opened its mouth.
The homeless man licked his lips and looked between Whitaker and Sierra-9.His eyes projected a deep and probably permanent drug haze.He mumbled something that sounded like “change,” and held out a twisted, scarred hand to receive it.
Whitaker looked at Sierra-9 and delivered the kill command.Sierra-9 flinched, but she didn’t move.Whitaker narrowed her eyes and repeated the command, pouring her will into it.Sierra-9 shook her head and backed away.
Whitaker was pissed off now.The damned dog actually shook its head no.Like a damned child.
It looked at her, eyes blank.Damn it, there was nothing there.It should be doing what she said.
“Change,” the homeless man mumbled again.
Whitaker reached for her handgun but stopped herself.No, bullets could be traced.She was angry, but being angry wouldn’t help.The test had failed.They needed to go back and try again.
“We’ll administer another dose when we return to base,” Chastain said, pulling Whitaker from her thoughts.“We’ll allow it all night to work, then run Sierra-9 through the conditioning protocols again.Then we’ll repeat the assignment.”
Whitaker’s fingers curled even tighter.“Sir, I strongly suggest we terminate the asset and select another one.”
