eyes each of them for a couple of moments, letting them wonder what he is thinking.
Finally, primarily to elicit a reaction, Parker calmly states, “Let’s start with something simple. You’re both under arrest for crimes against the United States of America.”
Parker turns to Augie and orders, “Lieutenant Colonel Hermann, place them both under arrest and read them their rights under military law.”
“Yes, sir,” Augie responds, as he starts moving towards them.
Both Bason and Stringer feign utter surprise, but when they realize Parker and Augie are serious about placing them under arrest, their masks drop. Without even trying to protest or argue, they instead draw their sidearms and point them at Parker and Augie.
Bingo, thinks Parker. Guilty as can be. Now will it be worth it?
“That’s as far as you go, Lieutenant Colonel Hermann,” Stringer warns.
Augie stops in his tracks and looks at the general, who does not even bat an eyelash.
“You both just made the biggest mistake of your lives,” Parker says menacingly. Knowing where it will hurt, Parker continues, “You have committed career suicide, and your general is going down with you.”
Despite Parker’s threat, they do not seem the least bit concerned, the arrogance clearly evident on their faces.
“I doubt that, General,” Bason remarks.
“If anything,” Stringer adds, “we will gain something here tonight.”
“With a five-star general out of the way, it looks like there will be room to move up the ladder for our general,” Bason predicts.
“You know how powerful the group is, General,” Stringer states. “They can do anything they want, and they’ve assured us that, along with General Cozey, we’ll be moving up in the world as a reward for our . . substantial risk.”
Augie casts a questioning glance in Parker’s direction, but the latter remains focused on Bason and Stringer, the anger burning fervently in his eyes.
“You don’t think anyone will miss a five-star general or his assistant?” Parker asks incredulously.
Parker motions behind him towards Private Anderson, who stands there dumbfounded, thinking of ways he can save them all. Hero scenarios dance around inside his head as he briefly and prematurely envisions himself at the medal ceremony.
“They might not miss a lowly private,” Parker says, “but I’m fairly certain the Pentagon will make some inquiries related to our . .” - Parker motions towards himself and Augie - “disappearance.”
Stringer and Bason look at one another and they exchange a sly, creepy grin. Parker does not like that look.
“There will be no disappearance, General,” Stringer states, “for any of you.”
“There will be nothing left of your bodies,” Bason indicates matter-of-factly, “amid the wreckage of your private jet due to take off from Windmill Airfield in a little less than an hour. The National Transportation Safety Board will blame the cause of the crash on mechanical errors, which is being taken care of as we speak.”
“Nothing suspicious about that,” Stringer adds.
“And no need to bring anything to read,” Bason cracks, “you’ll be dead by the time we throw you on board.”
“And the pilot?” Augie asks, not entirely interested in the answer, but the longer they stall, the greater the chance of something happening far more favorable than death.
“Yours has been replaced,” Stringer answers, “with one of ours. He is a skilled skydiver, so he’ll be bailing out after he transmits a distress signal.”
Parker has to admit that for disposing of a five-star general and his assistant, the plan has a rather simple elegance, an element he would appreciate more if he was not the intended recipient of said plan. Still, he has been in plenty of tight situations before, along with Augie, and they had managed to emerge from all of them intact, albeit with the occasional battle scar or two. He begins to weigh their options, which are severely limited.
Augie has his sidearm, Anderson is not packing, and Parker has the gun he was loaned on their trip to Eisley’s house tucked in his back waistband. There is nothing useful around the lab because it has been completely cleaned out. Nevertheless, Parker does not intend to go out without a fight, and he knows Augie will not take this lying down either, especially from a couple of fuckers like Bason and Stringer.
Back in the jungles of Vietnam, Laos, and Cambodia, Augie and Parker often used the word danh tu, a Vietnamese word that essentially means “fight.” They both liked the sound of the word, and when either of them embarked on a mission without the other, their parting last word usually was an exclamatory danh tu. While totally unnecessary, for neither of them needed a motivational ploy to become energized for a mission, they had succeeded and returned back safely after each one, designating the word as a kind of “good luck” handle.
Parker is about to exclaim this very word as a signal for Augie to make a move, but before he can do so, two things happen nearly simultaneously that make it unnecessary.
First, Wagner’s Ride of the Valkyries explodes on Augie’s cell phone, his personalized ringtone causing everyone in the room to jump. And second, the lights in the makeshift lab go out, pitching the room into total darkness with the exception of a small sliver of light sneaking in through the small, rectangular window in the lab door.
The next thing that can be heard in the lab is a screeching noise that sounds like a wild animal, and then a figure suddenly barrels out from the shadows, moving with astonishing speed towards Bason and Stringer. A moment later, high-pitched screams pierce the air, screams that have no business coming from the throat of a human being.
FIVE
Lieutenant Julianna Dawson can no longer take it. She is hot, cramped, and she feels like she is running out of air, although she is nearly certain that she has tricked her brain into believing there is a limited air supply in her tiny hideaway.
The plane ride has seemed like an utter eternity, and she has begun to wonder if they are attempting to fly around the world. The plane started traveling what seemed like north, perhaps even northeast, but after less than an hour, the plane landed. When they resumed their flight, the plane appeared to be heading due west or possibly northwest, and she figures that the real estate below might soon become scarce.
During their descent and subsequent approach prior to landing, Dawson was absolutely terrified as the wind whipped violently around her and she felt herself being tugged out into the night sky, a metal beam above her providing the only thing to cling to. Coupled with this terror, however, was also a strange exhilaration as they made their approach, basking in the adventure of the experience and knowing that she was starting to shatter her inherent fear of flying. The landing was actually smooth and, besides the rather discomfiting smell of burnt rubber and a momentary puff of smoke when they touched down, uneventful.
As soon as the plane landed, she desperately wanted to take a look around in order to determine where they were, but she feared being spotted and decided to remain in her cubbyhole. She had to make do with
