Chapter 4 - Part 2

“I don’t plan on getting caught, and with any luck, the name I’m using will give me just enough cover if I do. Most of the time the border patrol just sends you back without getting your prints completely processed first, or at all. Not a good policy, but with the amount of traffic that crosses the border here, and is caught, it is understandable,” the conversation was over as quick as it had begun, and they drove on in silence. Jan’s mind wandered back to the arrangements they had made if she were to get caught. She was going to use the name Isabel Garcia Lopez. If there were any problems, the phone number she would give them would be Manuel’s cell phone, in Mexico, or a phony address in Hermosillo. Ward arranged this when Manuel had dropped off the clothes, and then later shared it with Jan. He was to pose as her brother if she called. Most importantly, he was not to let Mama Garcia know what was happening, they didn’t want to worry her anymore than necessary. Manuel would be good cover, and would come to meet the bus if necessary. Ward left a vehicle available for him to use for just such an event. Ward and Jan tried hard not to involve the Garcias at all if possible, but sometimes they would use Manuel as back up.
The drive through what could only be described as a dusty, sandy, low scrub desert was fairly boring if one was not in love with the desert. They didn’t talk for hours and barely shared their thoughts. Jan watched the scenery as they traveled down the nearly empty roads through the countryside. As they passed through the small towns she would watch the locals walk along the streets and glance unnoticeably at the Explorer. She drifted in and out of a restless sleep, and when it was about noon they stopped to grab a couple of sodas and a taco with everything, from a vendor on the corner. The place looked as if it was well kept even though the wood that held the stand together was well worn from the years of weathering, and the paint was almost nonexistent from sun and wind. There seemed to be a lot of people enjoying the food and just as many waiting to be served. They finished eating quickly and got back into the Explorer. As they got back in, Jan and Ward started a small conversation that had nothing to do with the job they were about to embark on. It was just simply small talk. The small talk seemed to loosen up their minds as well as their muscles. As they talked about nothing of importance, the tension seemed to drift off on the wind that passed through the vehicle. Most of the drive was done, but they needed to get to Hermosillo before the last bus left for Nogales. Jan had printed out the schedule yesterday to make sure they didn’t miss it. One more day could mean that they would lose a lead. It could also mean that there would be more people preyed upon and lost. On this job, time was everything. They also knew that the full moon was tonight, and for the next couple of days crossings would be favorable, and frequent.

Ward drove for another hour and a half. He then pulled over to the side of the road on a dusty and sandy turnaround that barely existed. Off to the side there were the remains of a table and what might have been a trash container at one time or another. The Explorer jostled to a stop and he turned to look at Jan. They were just outside of Hermosillo. Ward wanted to ask Jan if she had everything she needed, but he already knew she did. Words would not serve his purpose right now. Instead he just stared at her and she returned his strong gaze with one that was equally as strong. Knowing what he was thinking without even reading his thoughts, she allowed her thoughts mix with his to let him know that she was feeling the same. To ease the tension and create a diversion, in her thoughts she went over what she had in her bag, and going over the premise of the legend, or persona she was about to adopt.

Jan had placed two thousand dollars in the bottom of the bag, and had a bit of extra cash sewn carefully into the straps of the bag where it would be hard for anyone to know it was there but her. It was a less likely place for someone to look, and even if they did, she had it well disguised within the folds of the fabric. She had carefully packed the bag to look like it contained nothing important. A couple changes of clothes, a few bread rolls bought from the local bakery, a bottle of water, a ragged old pad of paper, a pen, and an old rosary that Manuel had tucked in the bag before he gave it to her. The bag looked old, shabby, and lacking in the many items she may be in need of to protect herself, but in all reality it contained all she would possibly need or want. Ward had always been baffled by her choice of items. It wasn’t standard equipment, but it always seemed to get her out of trouble when she needed it.

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Book Trailer! - No Easy Way Out

After the brutal murder of his first wife, he thought all he had left was his job in an alphabet agency as a spy. Then Jack got lucky when he found the courage to live again. He met Maria, a talented agent that he worked with and eventually he married her. But what he didn’t know could have killed him. Maria had made her way out of a troubled past. Together, they discovered what they had lost, but it wasn’t long before Jack recovered to find history repeating itself. He did the only thing that made sense; he sacrificed himself to save Maria. Jack is now a captive of a very dangerous man, and he doesn’t expect to see many more tomorrows. His only hope is that Maria can find their friends, friends that have their own set of problems. Jan and Ward nearly escaped death on their last assignment, and after years of being out of their government’s control, they have landed back in the middle of a mission no one was supposed to know. To get what he wanted they had to sign up to work with the only man they could trust, but could Turner come to grips with his demons and work along side the only woman he ever loved? Even Turner has his secrets, secrets that may compromise this mission and cost someone a life.

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Mind the J's and W's - Part 7

“Enter your account number,” and Ward spun the machine toward him.  That was the signal.  Three men jumped out of booths that surrounded the eating area.  One went straight for the case and the other two went toward the bodyguards.  Ward jumped up and went down and over the table being careful not to block Jan’s sights.  His mission in all of this was to take Usman in.  What he knew would be useful and whether or not he wanted to tell them Ward would get it out of him. 

All was going as planned, that should have been the first warning as Streak stood up and move quickly toward Errol.  Ward had taken down Usman, and the two bodyguards had been disabled.  He wasn’t quite sure if they were alive or dead and he really didn’t care.  He was to take out Errol and he went for him like a lion.  Pistol whipping him across the forehead he watched as he fell to the ground holding his head.  He wasn’t down for the count though.  With his freehand he reached for his sidearm, but not before Streak could drop his knee onto that arm accompanied by the sound of breaking bone.

“I want it all,” was all he said in Russian to him.  It was Errol’s smile, blood covering his face and making him look all the more evil as the white teeth broke through the crimson red that unnerved him then.  He turned to see it then, another man, one he hadn’t known about; a suicide bomber and he knew he was out of time, they all were.

Jan had opened her thoughts and mind to the entire situation playing out before her eyes.  It was the only way to be prepared and it was then she felt it in amongst all the fear and panic that had started as soon as they had started to take the people down.  The noise was drifting up to the top of the building and mothers were hurrying their children away, but not fast enough.  She got the feeling of total emptiness and devastation.  Ward must have gotten it at the same time and faster he could communicate it to his group faster than words could be spoken he communicated it to Jan. 

Streak wanted to yell, to scream to clear the area before the man would kill them all.  A thousand things went through his mind all at once as if his brain was moving at light speed and his body at a sloth’s pace.  The uranium was safely out of there and that was the only good thought.  Collateral damage on this one was going to suck, but the bright side of it, if there was one, was that he wouldn’t live long enough catch the flack for it.  He wasn’t going down without a fight.  It seemed to take hours for his hand to pull the gun up just a fraction of an inch as he flipped it around in his palm.  The blood on the butt of the gun left it slippery and he felt more than he saw it slide from his grasp.  Then just as suddenly the bomber was down and Ward was on top of him.  Half of his head was missing and Ward had somehow prevented him from pushing the detonator.  There was a price.  He watched as Usman got up and started to run into the crowd.  He then heard the second shot as he watched Usman go down holding his hip.  That’s when it hit him that the sniper, or snipers, had fired.

Jan had punched out the two shots quickly and was now certain her vantage point had been discovered.  She could do no more to help them down there, a point that Ward had stressed inside her head.  He was wanting, no needing, her to get out of there and for once she agreed.  She had used gloves so that she wouldn’t have to wipe the rifle if she had to leave it, and it was obvious she was going to have to leave it.  It wouldn’t make much difference if they tested her clothes for traces of powder, but with any luck it wouldn’t come to that.  Running to the other side of the roof she hid herself behind the loud, archaic cooling units.  She just hoped that Rob was on his way.

The door to the roof banged open, but she could barely hear it over the units.  There were six men fanning out over the roof looking for the gunman.  They immediately went toward the gun that she had left lay on the roof.  They were quick, and they were efficient.  She could tell that from their minds.  The one in command told the others to fan out and search for the shooter.  Jan couldn’t help but think Rob could show up just about anytime.  She pushed out Ward’s worried thoughts as he had too many problems to deal with himself, and she let him know that.  Then she felt Rob’s mind close by.  Even though they couldn’t communicate with each other, he knew she would be looking for his thoughts.

On my way partner, and she smiled.  She started to rub her eyes and luckily she didn’t have to pretend to cry, as she was soaked clear through her burka.

“Out of my way,” the man at the top of the stairs was yelling at one of the officers.  His dialect was perfectly accented, “I know she’s up here hiding.”

“Sir, we are investigating a shooting,” the officer was blunt, “you have to leave.”

“Not until I find my cheating wife,” he pushed past the man, “She deserves the beating she is going to get and she can’t keep hiding from me.”

“Sir,” and before they could stop him again he went right for the cooling units.

“There you are you slut,” and he grabbed her by the arm and pulled her out from under the units, “This time I promise to beat you within an inch of your life.”

“Sir we will have to question her before you leave.  Some one was shot in the market and we need to know if she has anything to do with it or saw anything,” just what they needed; a progressive Afghan man.

“Good luck,” Rob spat out, “She is deaf and dumb and is only good for one thing.”  It took her only seconds to convince the men that she couldn’t hear say anything as they tried to speak, and yell, at her.  She just shook her head in fear and keened when they pulled back the face cover of the burka.  After all, women in this country weren’t supposed to be educated and those who had a handicap were definitely not worth much of anything to their families except for what they could sell them for.  Rob pulled her off the roof and pushed her down the stairs roughly so as not to draw any suspicion.  Once down, they quickly made their way out of the area and headed for the major city of Kabul.

“We’re clear,” he said into his lip mike as he drove away.  This mission was done, all except for the clean up and debriefing.  Moving the lip mike off to the side he spoke again, “Nice shooting, sorry I wasn’t there sooner.  I needed to make our friend a bit more comfortable.”

It was hours later and dark before they had all been debriefed and were off to their rooms for some much needed rest.  Streak was safely back in place at Usman’s compound, they had received a coded transmission.  The uranium was now being safely transported back to the states, and Usman, Errol, and the one bodyguard that had survived were all in custody.  Ward had traveled back with them and he had been gleaning information that was now part of the files that he had already typed and turned in. 

“It’s midnight, go get some rest,” Rob looked at Jan as she reached for another cold cola.

“In a bit,” she smiled and went back to typing her report.

“You’re not meeting with him,” he sounded more like her father and less like her partner.

“You’re probably right,” she didn’t look at him.

“Jan,” his voice chastised her.  She just looked at her work.

“Okay,” she replied.

“Damn,” and he pushed up from his chair.  Starting to leave the make-shift offices they had been given on the base he stopped, “He’s going to hurt you.  He’s got to live by the same rules and worse yet he believes in them.  You’re already too connected.  Don’t get yourself hurt,” he hadn’t even turned to talk with her.  He couldn’t bear to look at her and think that she might actually want a forever with someone.  They had all agreed to the rules; they all knew the score on this one.  She could go have fun, but don’t connect.  Problem was, there was a connection.  The PED had discovered their mutual attraction, researched it, and then decided to have their handlers nix it.  He’d tried but not very hard.  What he didn’t know was if Ward felt the same way about Jan.  He should report it, what she was about to do, that was his job, but he couldn’t bring himself to do it.  His head dropped a little as well as his shoulders.

         “I’ll be careful,” she said it so quietly he almost didn’t hear her.

Serialized Stories - Coming Soon!

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Mind the J’s and W’s

A short story by Annay Dawson

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Copyright  ©2009 Annay Dawson

All rights reserved.  No part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or any information storage and retrieval system, without written permission from the author, except for brief inclusions in a review.  For more information contact the author at annaydawson@annaydawson.com.

Mind the J’s and W’s is a work of fiction.  Names, characters, places and incidents are the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictionally.  Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.  

Novel Ideas Part 6

This story has inspired me to go back and write the story of Ward. Here's the next installment of this short story:

When they let him out of the room, a day later, he was worse for the wear, but not broken.  He did smell bad and was in need of a good shower so he headed for the locker room first.  It didn’t surprise him to find that both Jack and Bobby had headed for the locker room as well.  All in all there were nine of them in the showers stalls trying to rinse off the memories that this part of the training had brought to the surface.  Ward had to wonder what had happened to the tenth man, but no one was talking.  At any time he could have read the emotions of anyone in this room, but he couldn’t, didn’t want to feel anyone else’s emotions either.  He found it wasn’t that hard to block them out either.  Maybe that was one of the points of this exercise as well, to learn restraint.   

Thirty minutes later they sat in silence at whatever meal this was still fighting the demons they faced.  Ward glanced at Bobby and saw that he was recovering faster than either Jack or him.  The lines on his face just weren’t as deep, his face not as drawn.  He was really curious as to what demons Bobby had and even more curious about the demons that Jack hadn’t shared with him.  He chanced opening up his mind to get their feelings but the raw emotions in the room nearly physically knocked him over. Jack looked over at Ward immediately as if he knew what he had done.  He then looked at the door.  They were right on time.  Jack didn’t know how he knew they would show up now, he just did. 

“Head’s up,” Jack kept his voice low as if that would help at all.  Pat and Rowan were mind readers, good mind readers.  He had worked with Rowan before and had been amazed.  They were also trainers assigned to this group.  Jack had done his research before he had gotten here, after all he did have the clearance to find out, “The people coming in are here to take us out separately for debriefing from the box.”  Both Bobby and Ward looked over at the door only to encounter Pat and Rowan staring right at them.  It was unnerving and they looked away.

Next to Nothing

Okay... I've been really bad at this.  What with everything going on, change of job, kids moving and a little vacationing on top of that I just really haven't gotten back to this.  Not to say I haven't thought about this blog.  Late at night I sometimes write a fab blog post in my head as I drift off to sleep only to forget the entire thing by morning.  Now, I can't be the only one who does this? I have to admit to telling myself stories at the end of the day to go to sleep.  Maybe this is a habit started long ago when my mother used to tell me stories, or cemented when I used to read stories to my two sons.  However it happened, it happened.  Some of my best story ideas been in the times between sleep and wake.  The hard part if to remember it when you wake.

It's All In The Depth

When I think of the difference between the two I see this picture.  What is your favorite book that has been turned into a movie?  

What Makes a Writer

The picture says it all don't you thiink!!  Well no, maybe I just need one more.....

Welcome to my new blog where together we will figure out what writing is all about.  Depending on the day my opinion on what a writer is changes.  When I was younger writing was a way to escape daily life and the boredom of growing up in a small town in the Midwest.  As I grew what I discovered was that a writer's views and purposes change.  Some days I want to tell a story, some days I want to make a point, and some days I want to just laugh and be entertained.  
It is important that as a writer we don't let ourselves get trapped in a box.  Looking at the word and presenting it in different ways is our job.  Take a moment and think about why you write? What is your purpose? Leave a post and share with others what you like most about writing and maybe even what you like least.