It started like any other slow day at the base. Griff stood in the cafeteria line with Jimmy and Sampson, mulling over food choices, when the dog froze. The hair on Sampson's neck went rigid as he stared past the bustling, laughing tables toward a quiet corner. There, three men and a woman sat in silence. They weren't eating; and they were eyeing the dog. Sampson let out a low, vibrating growl. Griff looked down to see the fur around Sampson's neck standing on end. In that instant, a piece of the puzzle clicked into place for Griff—the stolen ammo, an inside job. Russian sleepers. Right here among them. As soon as the group caught Griff staring, they became visibly nervous, leaving their full plates behind they slowly made it to their feet, moving toward the door. Griff broke from the line and intercepted them. "Hold it right there."
"Halt!" Griff called out when they didn't stop. Tables of soldiers nearby stopped talking and watched the intercession. The four people slowed, stopped and tried to act as if nothing was wrong. Sampson joined Griff, standing beside him with his muscles tense and ready to pounce, his growling growing louder as he sensed the oncoming danger.
"What's going on," one of the men asked, his English clear and without any sign of an accent. He looked to Griff as if he were sizing him up, looking for an opportune moment to strike. The others were ready to follow his signal. Suddenly Merc showed up out of nowhere and joined Griff. He didn't say a word as he unbuttoned the strap on his side arm. Griff did the same. Jimmy soon joined them.
"I need to see your military ID and badges," Griff said sternly. The group slowly reached for their shirt pockets—then lunged. As the brawl erupted, the blaring AI warning system was drowned out by crashing tables and dishes. Griff's team moved with lethal precision, quickly overpowering three of the attackers. A fourth man broke free, shoving past the chaos and sprinting out the door with Sampson nipping at his heels. Dave slammed down his bus tub, pulled a pistol from his waistband, and charged out the door after their mascot.
Merc radioed the Command Center, and within minutes, military police stormed the dining room to take custody of the pinned suspects. Griff, Jimmy, and Merc fell in behind the guards as they marched the prisoners away. They weaved through an unfamiliar labyrinth of corridors, passing seamless door panels embedded directly into the walls. Despite his extensive scouting of the underground facility, Griff realized he was being led into entirely uncharted territory.
The procession halted at a door at a dead end down a corridor Jimmy had assumed led to storage. At a visible door, the guard in charge pulled his badge and swiped it against the sensor lock above the handle. The door opened, revealing a security checkpoint. Three guards stood behind a barrier of bulletproof glass, rifles at the ready.
With no other obvious exit in sight, the lead guard swiped his badge against another blank wall on the other side of the room. A concealed panel opened in the wall as the military police ushering the prisoners into a massive, sterile holding block lined with tiny solitary pods. Each cell was barely large enough to pace in, furnished only with a bench anchored to the back wall and a clear, impenetrable front partition. One by one, the prisoners were stripped to their underwear, thoroughly searched, and shoved into their own pod with prisoner garb thrown in after them. As each cell door slid shut, the seamless clear front barrier sealed them in.
Back in the first room, the teammates met the Israeli general entering the room and told him what had transpired.
"You know there are more," General Sefira said to Griff. "When you finish the report, I'll need to see you in the Command Center." Griff nodded and took the device from one of the guards stepping around the partition. He recorded an audio report, thumbed through the concluding questions, and signed out with a fingerprint scan. He then passed the device to Merc and then Jimmy, who did the same.
Leaving the stockade behind, Griff led his team back into the corridors, keeping his voice low. "We need to find Sampson. He's the key to finding any other sleepers."
Jimmy fell into step beside him. "How do you know they're sleepers? Two of those guys worked down in the motor pool with me. They seemed genuine."
"Whatever they are," Merc interjected. "We need to find out why they attacked us. There's something criminal going on here, and I wouldn't doubt it if we had a whole platoon of sleepers down here."
"Now that's a horrible thought," Griff said with alarm, "what with all that ammo missing."
"What ammo is missing?" Merc asked deeply concerned. He turned to Griff and Jimmy for an answer.
"We have an issue," Jimmy said, trying to think of some way to keep the focus off of his own blunder. "We...Griff found missing counts in our ammo."
"You'll get the full details when we talk to the general," Griff said as he stepped in front of Merc and continued down the hall.
"How much ammo is missing?" Merc asked. He quickened his pace as he followed Griff. The fact that they had sleepers was one thing, but the reality that they had sleepers AND missing ammo made things a lot worse. Griff didn't answer, and Jimmy followed his example without being told. Merc would find the answers to his questions soon enough when they met with General Sefira.
"What happened?" Lynn asked immediately as she met her team in the hall. "I heard you guys were a part of a scuffle in the cafeteria."
"You better come with us," Griff said firmly. "We're wanted in the Command Center by the general." Lynn joined them as they made their way to the motor pool. Griff gave her a synopsis of the event and watched as she remained silent, her mind preparing to discuss the business of the missing ammunition with the Israeli general, taking deep breaths as she walked, Jimmy grinned when he knew exactly what she was doing.
"So what have you found out about the missing munitions?" General Sefira began with that particular topic. The militia team stood like statues, waiting for Lynn to answer. Each was surprised that they weren't the ones breaking the news.
"You know about that?" Jimmy asked with a start. Well, he thought to himself, this isn't going to go well.
"What makes you think I would ever be ignorant of anything going on at my own base?" He asked squarely. "I am disappointed that you haven't already come to me about it."
"We needed some kind of information, anything that would give us a clue about it first," Lynn said apologetically. "I, personally, didn't want to have to tell you we had nothing."
"Well," the general asked. "Do you have anything?"
"We know missing ammunition was held by unknown personnel in hollows dug out within the caves before it was moved here," Griff said. "The Jordanian army swept the caves and found loose metal jackets nowhere near our actual stockpiles. What they did with them after that is just a guess. But I think they have another stockpile hidden underground, right here with us."
"Let's hope that we find it fast," General Sefira added.
"I've talked to the outposts on all the exits," Griff said as he pulled out his own notepad and scrolled to pull up the questions that he had asked the guards. "There were no reports of transports going out that we didn't already know about. And none of the outposts, besides the main entrance, had any hauls going out or coming in since we've been here."
"That information is already on record with me," the general mumbled. "Again, I am not ignorant of what is going on here."
"Except for the sleepers," said Jimmy, causing Lynn to bury her face into her hand wishing he just wouldn't speak.
"Had you reported the missing ammunition from the beginning, Mr. Smartass, we could have already taken care of this," General Sefira said with a barbed tone. "As it is now, they have a stockpile that could cause us big problems."
"Just stop talking," Griff said to Jimmy as he leaned against the nearest console and folded his arms. There wasn't time for the blame game, they needed a plan.
"I suggest you and your team get out there and find the stockpiles," the general said as he turned away from the group, "or we are all going to be facing trouble we can't afford. And to keep panic from running things amok, you are not to tell anyone else what we discussed here. Understand?"
"Yes, sir," the team said in unison. They stood only for a moment before the general sent them on their way. The four of them hurried out of the room and into the motorpool and up the metal stairs before they spoke.
"So," said Jimmy as he started the conversation between them. "Where do we start?"
"Let's start with the rooms next to where they took the prisoners," said Griff abruptly. That was his first thought when they brought the assailants through the area. He had no idea the rooms were there or he would have checked them out already when he first began searching for clues.
"They looked like a bunch of storage rooms," Jimmy interjected. "That would be a really good hiding place."
Griff led them back through the maze of corridors to the hidden rooms, using a badge given to them by the general made specifically for their search. They worked together in each of the bays, tearing into the wooden crates, only to stop cold when the heavy entrance door to the room they searched clicked open. A guard stepped in, concerned with their actions. "What do you think you're doing?" he demanded.
"You'll have to take that up with General Sefira," Griff said, never pausing his search. As he reached the bottom of the final crate, he looked up to watch the guard radio the general. Jimmy and Merc quickly replaced the contents he had removed. The general's orders barked clear enough for everyone to hear: Ask no questions and let them search. The item was classified, and the guard didn't need to know. As he disconnected transmission, the guard muttered a tense acknowledgment and left the team to their work.
"There's an empty room here, smaller than the rest but big enough to set up some targets where I can shoot my bow and arrows." Lynn said after she had disappeared for a moment and returned. She had pent up energy she wanted to release and kept thinking about a place to shoot off a few arrows and bolts.
"We're kinda busy," Jimmy said, not appreciating her idea.
"Well, I took advantage of the room to do some breathing and that 'floating down the river of ease' thing Avril showed me, and that thought came to mind. But you're right, let's keep our focus on the project at hand," Lynn said, realizing she was thinking about relaxing without being prompted. She liked the self-help methods Avril had introduced to her. She wondered if Avril could teach her how to successfully meditate, since her own attempts never worked out.
"Lynn," Griff said as he began to nail the lids back on the crates. "Please find Sampson. We're going to need him to search out more spies down here."
"Sure, where did you see him last," she asked.
"I'll go with you," Jimmy volunteered quickly. He knew his hairy friend would come to his whistle when they searched the halls. "The last thing I remember is him chasing one of the sleepers that got away and then Dave running after the both of them."
"Dave had a gun?" Lynn asked hopefully.
"A big one," Jimmy answered as they both walked into the corridor. "I don't think it was military issued."
"Well, that explains why you haven't taken off to find Samson yourself," she said, relieved. She had wondered why Jimmy was still with them instead of hunting for his sidekick. Their mascot was rarely far from Jimmy's side unless he was hanging out with Merc. As they headed toward the cafeteria—the last place Samson had been seen—Jimmy whistled for the dog. Just as they reached the double doors, Dave appeared from the opposite end of the hallway, carrying their squirming lucky charm.
"What happened to the dude you were chasing?" Jimmy asked, watching as Dave set down his load. Sampson ran to Jimmy who picked him up and began to inspect him for damages.
"He started shooting at the dog," said Dave. "I had to get him out of there. The MPs came and chased the guy down till they caught him. I imagine he's in the brig with the others that you caught.
"Come on," said Lynn, "let's get back with the guys. Our pal has some sniffing around to do."
"Hear that, buddy," Jimmy said in a child-like voice. "You get to earn your keep again today. Let's go find some bad guys."
The following day, Griff worked with General Taylor to compile a comprehensive manifest of all base personnel. Their plan was to discreetly march everyone past Samson for an initial screening, separating anyone who triggered the dog's reaction from the rest of the population. Those whose presence warranted further investigation would be quietly shuffled off to interrogation rooms, preventing the remaining personnel from catching on to their suspicions. Simultaneously, they planned to segregate base residents from the R and R visitors. Both leaders agreed it was paramount to shed their status as a relief base; anyone not actively working there needed to be rotated out as soon as possible.
Everyone had to be accounted for and assessed, starting with the soldiers already scheduled for rotation. Those cleared of suspicion would be sent back to the Jordan consulate under the guise of standard reassignment, while anyone who couldn't be cleared would be detained until their allegiances were certain.
The low-key operation continued in the motor pool. The team knew the remaining spies would likely avoid the cafeteria after the recent brawl between Griff's squad and the first captured sleeper agents, making the unpredictable movement of personnel across the base their biggest hurdle.
By the third week of questioning, everyone who triggered Samson's telltale alerts had been separated and confined. For the time being, it looked like their operation was running smoothly.
Lynn needed to step back and focus on something else, once again she found herself underground for days on end. While the men continued the patrols, she kept a close eye on the Essenes. Avril had separated from her assigned troop to remain on-site with her. Together, the two women tracked every move the Essenes and their families made, staying in constant contact with the young Essene protectors. This time, Lynn relied on her favorite pastime to stave off the cabin fever that always threatened to creep in.
"Right here, against this back wall," Lynn groaned, hauling her side of the massive target toward the rear of the room. Avril held up the other end, helping her guide it alongside the first sandbag setup. Stepping back to evaluate their work, Lynn nodded. "We'll use the thicker target for the crossbow." It would do fine. She grabbed the two circular foam targets, securing each to one pile of sandbags.
"My brother has taught me to use," Avril said as she picked up the longbow and pulled three arrows from the quiver. "I shall challenge."
"That would be nice," Lynn said as she tied off the second target and walked to join her friend at the far end of the room near the entryway. She stood back to let Avril take the first round. The three shots she took impressed Lynn. All falling within the outside circle. Handing her friend the bow, Avril retrieved her arrows.
"Nice shooting," Lynn said. "My turn." She took three arrows from the quiver, waited for Avril to walk back behind her, and then took her turn. Her arrows landed tighter than those of Avril, and closer to the center of the target.
"Very good, your shot," her friend complimented. "We make bet?"
"If you think you can shoot better than I can," Lynn said as she walked to retrieve her arrows. "Otherwise I'm just going to take your money."
"That is your belief?" she asked her friend and smiled with the assurance in her cohort's attitude. She liked when Lynn believed in herself. "We make bet over crossbow?"
"That would definitely be a challenge," Lynn agreed. "We can see who's the worst at it between the two of us." She pulled a box of bolts from a basket she had carried in with her bow and crossbow.
"You first," said Avril, taking the three bolts that Lynn handed over to her.
"Fine." Lynn smiled, pivoting toward the target for her first attempt. She notched the bolt, drew back the heavy string, and aligned her sight. Straightening her spine, she squeezed the trigger. The bolt thudded into the outer rings—well away from the bullseye. Her next two attempts showed improvement, but neither managed to pierce the inner circle. "Your go, Avril."
Lynn watched as her friend took an agonizingly long time to ready her stance, clearly intent on topping Lynn's score. Avril's first shot thwacked into the third ring, instantly beating Lynn's best mark. On the second, however, her focus wavered, sending the bolt wide. Her third shot missed the straw entirely, burying itself deep into the wall behind it. The room went quiet as the two girls locked eyes.
"That shouldn't have happened," Lynn said, her voice dropping. She leaned her crossbow against the wall as they both approached the far barrier behind the targets. "These walls are supposed to be solid concrete."
They stared at the crossbow bolt, embedded nearly six inches deep. Avril gripped the shaft and yanked it free. It had only pierced drywall—there was nothing but empty space behind it. Lynn hooked her finger into the ragged edge, tearing away a chunk that crumbled instantly in her hand. She snapped on her penlight and aimed the beam into the dark opening.
"What is seen?" Avril asked curiously.
"There's a room on the other side of this wall," Lynn said matter-of-factly. She pulled more drywall loose. Avril joined in. Between the two of them they opened a hole big enough for them to crawl through one at a time. Standing in the semi-darkness they both lit up their flashlights and looked around the room at the stacks of crates labeled as food.
"This no food," Avril muttered, her eyes scanning the labels. She glanced at Lynn, a sudden tightness in her chest. There was only one reason someone would build a false wall to hide cargo. Avril yanked at a top crate. It broke free, crashing down and bursting open against the concrete. Heavy-caliber bullets flooded the floor in a deafening, metallic cascade. When the echoing rattle finally died down, Lynn stared at it through the darkness of the hidden room, silently she began counting the rows with her flashlight. Four neat columns stretched all the way to the ceiling, wondering how deep the rows ran.
"How far back do you think these crates go?" Lynn asked.
"However many is missing ammo," her friend answered. Just then they heard noises on the other side of the wall. Suddenly another beam of light lit up the opening.
"Who is in here?" A voice from behind the torch called out.
"It's me, Lynn Marston," Lynn answered as she turned off her flashlight and grabbed Avril's light. She flashed the beam into her own face and put her finger against her lips and motioned for Avril to hide behind the fallen box. Quickly but gingerly she did as she was told, hunched behind the box, she lay down on the floor.
"Come out here," a deep voice ordered, sweeping a flashlight beam across Lynn before scanning the hidden room. Avril pressed herself flat against the floor, praying to stay unseen. "Come out now!" the voice boomed. Lynn stepped toward the opening, but before she could clear it, a hand clamped onto her arm and violently wrenched her forward, breaking loose chunks of drywall as she was drug through the hole. Another person grabbed both her firearms from their holsters, ripped the attached relay radio from her collar and pushed her against the wall. The radio shattered against the floor when the other man stomped it. As they ripped the watch from her wrist, a spike of panic hit her. How did he unlock the band so fast? Their ability to fleece her so effortlessly left her deeply shaken.
"What's going on here?" Lynn asked angrily.
"Who else is here?" the man who had grabbed her asked. His eyes flashed angrily as he seethed. "Where is the other person who was with you?"
"It's just me," Lynn said, not losing her head. "She went to get the MPs. Who are you, and what do you know about this hidden space?"
"You don't get to ask questions," the man standing behind the first spat. He thrust his flashlight beam into the hole, scanning the cramped space. The intruders could barely fit through the opening, but two of them took turns inspecting the dark room with their torches.
"If you think killing me is going to help in any way," Lynn said, standing with her hands raised, showing no fear. "You're only going to piss some really hard core people off who will make it their life goal to find you, torture you and then kill you in the slowest manner possible."
"We will need a hostage," said the last man who had come into the room; his partner nodded her head. Both looked quite uncomfortable with Lynn's depiction of the result of their initial plan. "We will have an assurance of escape." The four spies looked at each other and then agreed with nods. Again they spoke among themselves in Russian before the last two soldiers tied her up with rope and zip ties, taping her mouth shut last. The last two that had arrived left the first two in the room to guard her. It was apparent to her that they had a plan, and she was grateful that it didn't include her immediate demise.