The ship’s music teacher had assembled a band, consisting of the crew’s younger members. They started off softly with some light dinner music and then they transitioned to some jazzy tunes. By the time Hail had popped the cork on the fake champagne — for the minors — and the real champagne for the adults, the young man playing the electric guitar had cranked up his amp, and the drummer had started pounding on the skins. The band churned out the song, I Am the Fire, by the group Halestorm. Hail had no idea Sarah Starling was such a great singer. She belted out line after line as the band continued to blast out the verse.
Hail found himself listening to each phrase, and the song was meaningful to him. What he was doing — what his life had become — was nothing that he could have foreseen or imagined. Was he strong enough to continue along the path he had set for himself? For the time being, at least, the answer was yes. As each of the Top Ten Terrorists fell like dominoes, he found himself getting stronger. He knew he would continue to follow his desire — and revenge was a dish best served cold.
Starling transitioned into the chorus. The chords were filled with power and emotion.
Hail was burning brighter. His crew — his kids — were radiating life, celebrating their first successful mission. There had lots of many moving pieces and they had risen to the occasion. Hail recognized how much talent they possessed, and his chest burst with pride. In their young lives, they had overcome so much trauma and loss, yet they had accomplished much. Marshall wistfully wished their parents could have been there to revel in their infectious happiness. Simultaneously, he ached. He wished he could have shared this occasion with his wife and twin daughters. There was all this life around him, yet Hail felt amazingly empty.
It was getting late and most of the teens, and many of the adults, were out on the dance floor shaking, twerking and jumping up and down.
“Can I have this dance?” asked a female voice behind him.
Hail’s spirits soared — the voice was that of Kara — Hail turned ready to pull her into a warm embrace. However, it was not Kara. Sarah Starling had left the stage to request a dance with Hail. He tried not to let his disappointment show — instead he exchanged a smile with her, and said, “I would be honored to have this dance with you, Sarah.”
Hail arose from his chair and he took Sarah’s hand. He went to the dance floor and made a fool out of himself.
White House Oval Office — Washington, D.C
All the principal players assembled to discuss the various covert operations currently underway. Some of these operations were known to the president. The more nefarious ones she could claim plausible deniability.
The CIA and NIA had a lot of irons in the fire. Operation Hail Warning had been relegated as an interesting development, but it did not top the list of significance when compared to war, hostile engagements, interdictions into sovereign countries and teams of black ops specialists — both U.S. branded as well as other countries. There were a lot of chess pieces on the board and they were in continuous motion.
After discussing the more fluid covert ops in play, the group of Washington’s power players finally circled back to Operation Hail Warning. By this time, the president’s nerves were wearing thin and she had very little patience.
“Good news,” said the director of the CIA. He began debriefing everyone regarding the status of Operation Hail Warning. Pepper checked his notes and continued, “It appears that we have successfully turned Victor Kornev.”
The president looked happy or maybe she was relieved to hear some good news. She smiled pleasantly. Addressing Pepper, “Please, tell us all about it.”
Pepper pretended to look at more notes on his iPad, but he wasn’t interested in the situation report that Kara had called in — he didn’t have it available on his tablet. She had ignored protocol — she hadn’t typed it up or entered it into the CIA database. Pepper was just winging it.
“My operator, Ramey, was successful in not only turning Victor Kornev into a CIA asset, but also she was able to immediately put him to work. She penetrated the heavily secured compound of Afua Diambu. He was #2 in rank on our Top Ten Terrorists list. It was reported that following a firefight, Ramey was able to kill Diambu.”
The president neither looked shocked or angry that Kara — and, in extension, the CIA — had acted without first obtaining her permission. The president didn’t immediately say anything, so Pepper quickly added, “It was Ramey’s call. She saw an opportunity and she took it.”
“Has there been any fallout?” President Weston asked Pepper.
“Nothing we have been able to discern,” Pepper said. He turned to his counterpart in the NIA, Eric Spearman.
“Everything is quiet on our end,” Spearman confirmed.
“Where is Ramey?” the president asked. “Is she still in Nigeria?”
Pepper winced. He was hoping that the whereabouts of his CIA operative would not come up in this briefing.
“Well, we don’t know where Ramey is, currently.”
The present narrowed her gaze at Pepper.
“What do you mean, we don’t know where she is? She has a cellphone and a compact with a communication device attached. She has a laptop, iPad and access to a SAT phone. Hell, the only thing Ramey doesn’t have is a satellite dish sticking out of her ear. Yet, you are telling me you don’t know where she is. That’s unacceptable. Isn’t it your job requirement, as her handler, to know her whereabouts at all times?”
“We are sure it’s just a situational communication issue. Probably a proximity issue with where she is located. I’m sure she’ll check in soon.”
Seeing his answer hadn’t satisfied the president, Pepper added, “Hail reported that drones spotted Kornev’s cargo plane land in Termez, Uzbekistan. Kara was tracked to Kornev’s home.”
That additional information seemed to appease the president.
She flashed a that’s OK for now smile and told Pepper. “Sounds like your team did some good work, Jarret. But how is our friend, Marshall Hail and his merry team of assassins?”
Pepper didn’t like the question, but then he didn’t like Hail.
“I think he’s happy that Ramey was able to take out Diambu. After all, that’s what gets him up in the morning. The whole ‘seeking vengeance for The Five’ thing.”
Weston asked, “I guess that means we don’t have to pay another bounty to Mr. Hail?”
“I don’t think so,” Pepper said, hoping that no one else had anything to add.
Trevor Rodgers had been listening to all the bull that Pepper had been spouting. He could no longer tolerate Pepper’s lies.