Guardian Program

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Guardian Program Ch. 35

A novel by R.C.PeterGabriel, all rights reserved.

"I'm heading up there," I stated. "I want volunteers from available security teams to go with me, but they have to be mountain and forest trained. And get the helicopter here ASAP."

"Robert, we're in Montana," Scott pointed out. "All the team members are trained for mountainous and forested terrain. As for the helicopter, it's in the backyard."

"Good, I want to be airborne in five minutes or less. Greg, coordinate with the Canadian authorities and let them know what's going on. I'll need a helicopter or jump plane at the airport when we arrive."

I looked at Sam. "Baby, find me that cabin!" I begged while taking her face in my hands and gazing into her eyes. "Make me proud," I added, kissing her long and hard.

When I broke the kiss, I ran from the room and headed upstairs. I had Hal open the secret door to the 'bat cave' before I reached the drying booth so that I wouldn't have to slow down. I took the elevator as Hal opened the lower security door. It was open when I reached the bottom. I ran past fifty yards of processors, grabbed the virtual helmet, and then retraced my path.

I didn't stop at my office, I headed straight for the back door of the sunroom. Don was waiting, holding the side door open to the EC635. The rotors were already turning at very close to takeoff speed. I ran to within thirty feet, then walked with my head low, and climbed aboard. Shepherd boarded right after me and sealed the hatch.

Four others had already boarded. I put on my headset as did Shepherd, the others already had theirs on.

"I figured you wouldn't want to leave the house under-protected," Shepherd informed me. "I know Scott is there, but if something happened to Samantha, I wouldn't forgive myself."

I glanced over and met his eyes. He held my gaze as we lifted off and were pulled into our harnesses. We were already banking hard to starboard, before reaching altitude.

I didn't see it, but saw the news clips later. Our pilot put us right over the heads of the gathered news crews. Apparently, twenty-five feet and climbing wasn't enough clearance for many of them. They dove for cover, much to the delight of one team's cameraman who panned along all of the sprawling reporters, before filming the quickly retreating helicopter.

"I put Jones in the room with her," continued Shepherd. "He has orders to keep her in sight at all times unless she has to use the head. In that event, he's to clear the room before she enters."

I chuckled. "Even with you five leaving, you still have Scott, eleven response team members, not to mention the six federal agents and a wall of reporters to get past. Even if someone fires a missile at the house, Hal will more than likely have it deactivated and misdirected before it could hit. I think she's fairly safe. Why the caution?"

Never having broken eye contact, he waited for a few heartbeats before answering. "Robert, if our mission is not successful and you were to lose Samantha as well, you would become ... dare I say ... emotional," he finally responded having settled on what he felt was a tactful word. "During my time off, I happen to like watching sports with a cold beer in my hand, far too much to let something happen to her."

"What exactly is that supposed to mean, Mr. Shepherd?" I asked.

He pretended to adjust his harness a few moments trying to stall, then sighed, saying, "Well, if that event were to occur, which I hope and pray doesn't, you would probably have Hal, meld down every reactor, and set off every nuclear warhead on the planet. At the very least, you would set off the 'End Game' protocol. Either way, my cold beer and TV would be a thing of the past."

We continued to hold the other's eyes as I pondered his response. He was right of course. If I lost all three women, there would be nothing left of me. The person I am would cease to exist. I would have no reason to live. The entire purpose of the Guardian Program would have been for nothing.

Several minutes went by before I swallowed down the lump forming in my throat, and then I tried to lighten the mood and gain information at the same time. "Does everyone around me think I'm losing it?"

We touched down at Poison Airport, saving Shepherd from having to answer. He just smirked and pulled off his headset then opened the door. He jumped out and automatically went into a covering stance, his sidearm having suddenly appeared in his hand. The rest of us exited and began moving two by two to my waiting Citation X.

Sometimes training kicks in without conscious thought, and is a good thing. At other times, like this one, the training just slows you down. We weren't in a war zone, and the only bad guys I knew to have any kind of a grudge, were in Canada. Not to mention that as soon as we were all off the EC635, it rose to provide cover from the air.

Sam did have the forethought to have Hal prep the plane. The stairs were down, and the engines were operating at idle. I had Hal unlock the cargo hatch as we approached and headed that way, as my partner provided cover. The next pair boarded the plane and cleared it, even though Hal would never have allowed someone onboard that wasn't authorized.

I offloaded my tactical, climbing and jump gear then resealed the cargo hatch. My partner grabbed a third of the gear and we headed for the stairs. Once onboard I headed for the bunk room and started to lay out my gear, as the engines began to spool up almost at the same time. My partner deposited the rest of the gear just inside the door and left without a word.

I glanced into the lounge to see if everyone had a seat. The three men on the couch looked a bit uncomfortable but everyone was sitting. I apologized for not having enough seating, pointing out that when I customized the plane, I hadn't figured on more than three people being onboard at a time. I told them I would return as soon as we reached altitude and headed for the cockpit.

Just before rejoining my companions, I contacted Sam. "Anything yet?"

"I'm sorry Robert, but Debra didn't seem to exist before marrying Bill. I've searched every database I can think of, and I believe I've had practice finding people that want to hide."

"I'm counting on that experience, Sam. You'll figure it out, I know you will. Call me the second you find it. Love you," I added and disconnected.

I moved back to the lounge and asked Shepherd if he had a plan.

Shepherd looked up at me as I walked past. "Well, honestly Robert, we don't have anything to build a plan around. We don't know the terrain, the structure, the defenses, how many combatants, how many civilians, whether or not Jessie or Toni will be in a position to assist us, or even if there other hostages. We don't know if we'll have a helicopter or a plane waiting, and if it's a plane will they be able to provide jump gear? All we have is the hope that Sam can get us the information we need."

"I just spoke to her, and so far, nothing," I groused, as I closed the door to the bunk room, then sat on the floor and braced myself against it. "The way I see it, the odds of our getting a layout of the structure and its defenses are slim unless we can make a close pass over it and drop several Black Knights nearby. As for the rest, getting there by plane would be best. We can jump in, most likely undetected, and be on them before they know we're there."

"I doubt that we could drop any Black Knights, Robert. That area is very mountainous, and we'd probably have to be several thousand feet above the structure. Trying to hand target Black Knights, with variable winds coming off the mountains would be pure luck. Not to mention impact tolerances to the device or actually hitting the roof. One of them could penetrate the roof and possibly kill those we're trying to save."

"Okay, let's plan for each contingency then," I suggested.

"Robert, the only thing we can plan for is whether or not we have the necessary equipment. Will we have a helicopter or a plane, and if it's a plane, will we have jump gear? If we have a plane but no jump gear, it won't do us any good. You're the only one with a parachute, and I'm not letting you go in by yourself."

"I have Jessie's parachute in the cargo hold, but it was packed for someone much lighter than all of you, especially with tactical gear."

"I'm only fifty-one kilos, and the only gear I need is my weapon," the person to my right stated. Obviously, my observational skills had been lacking, as I found myself looking at my partner and realizing he was a she.

I must have looked surprised because Don chuckled. "Robert, meet Tammy Keith. She's our team's sniper. I've seen her consistently bulls-eye moving targets, even in high winds and at ranges over fifteen hundred yards."

Ms. Keith nodded in my direction, then added, "A pleasure to be working for you, Sir."

"Thank you," I responded simply, but not seeing any weapons other than her sidearm I asked, "What weapon is that?"

She dropped her left hand down between her chair and the bunk room wall and extracted a rifle case. She stood it between her feet. "This weapon."

Although the case was long enough for most rifles, it seemed a little short for a sniper rifle, so I asked if I could see it.

"Certainly," she replied with obvious pride, the first expression of emotion I had seen from her. Leaning forward she laid the case across my knees.

After releasing the latches and lifting the lid, I found myself impressed with what was disassembled inside. I recognized it as, "An L115A3 AWM sniper rifle. Very nice. Lightweight and holds the record for the longest confirmed kill. Over 2700 yards."

Scanning the case I saw a suppressor, three different scopes, and a dozen five-round magazines with several different color codes. I pointed to the scopes and said, "I'm guessing the optics are telescopic, night vision, and what, a range finder?"

She nodded in response, so I continued. "What are the different rounds for?"

Ms. Keith's eyes lit up a little more as if I'd asked about her child's straight 'A' report card. "The different types are for different needs. I use.338 Lapua Magnum loads for all of my rounds except the sub-sonic. I have FMJs, APs, APIs, the sub-sonic of course, and these babies."

She pulled a magazine from a separate protective case and held it up to display the radioactive symbol on the side. "DUs, depleted uranium. Tank killers. Never had to use them in the field, but you never know when some nut job will steal a tank from a National Guard armory and try to hold a building hostage or something.

"I use the APs a lot. They're my personally customized Teflon-coated titanium and tungsten alloy rounds. They'll pass through any body armor known to man, and even some light tank armor. As you know, most of our clients have high-grade armored glass, and I've had to get past it on a couple of occasions." She replaced the DUs into what I assume was a lead-lined box before putting them back in her case.

"Okay, it looks like Keith here can go with me," I stated, and received a head nod from her in response.

"Yes," Shepherd agreed. "She could, but only if we have no other choice. I don't like the idea in the least. That still puts you in the cabin by yourself. You could just as easily give me your parachute and let Tammy and I go."

"Don, we both know I'm not sitting this out."

"I could shoot you in the leg," he calmly replied.

I smiled morbidly. "You do realize, Hal wouldn't like that very much. I'm going and there isn't anything you're going to do to stop me."

"I could disable your chute."

"You could, but you won't. If something were to happen to Toni or Jessie because of the delay it caused, I would never forgive you," I calmly replied, while meeting his eyes.

The discussion was cut short when Sam's voice came over the cabin's speakers. "Robert, are you there?"

"Of course, go ahead Sam."

"We were just informed that the rescue helicopter from Fort Nelson is already out. The only plane available is their search and rescue spotter plane. It isn't designed for jumping but two or three of you could if you had to. The Mounties are all on the lookout for the van, and two of them will be waiting for you at the airport with SUVs"

"Any news about the cabin?" I asked.

"Not really. What I do know is that there is a section of Highway 97 that follows the Tetsa River, and just before the North Tetsa River forks off, there is a tiny section of cell coverage. Bill's phone pinged the tower shortly before Hal told us about the van, so I know they're west from that point and didn't take 77 north. Unfortunately, they won't hit another tower for about 175 miles. The good news is that most of the roads leading off of 97 west of that point are probably impassable in a panel van. Well, at least not very far off the highway anyway. So, I was about to search for all structures within two miles of the highway and cross reference for any possible connection to the three known suspects."

"I thought he dumped his phone," stated Shepherd.

"He did," Sam replied. "His and Debra's regular phones are still next door. I had Hal replay the time Bill approached Rutschman at the airport and scanned him for other phones. He had two burner phones that had never been used. One was turned off the other one pinged the tower on 97."

I interrupted. "Hal, do the search that Sam mentioned a moment ago, limiting to the area between their last known location and the next possible cell tower."

"Of the four hundred-eight structures within the search area, no connection is noted with the three suspects," Hal informed us.

I sighed and thumped my head against the bunk room door out of frustration, then continued. "Hal, continue the search, expanding the area by half-mile increments until you find a connection or one of Bill's phones pings a tower."

"Samantha," interjected Shepherd, while giving me a look that said I was about to be overruled. "What would you say, if I told you Robert was insisting on going into the cabin by himself?"

There wasn't the slightest pause before she answered. "I would say that if there are no other alternatives, he should go. I would also say that if he's truly insisting, then I hope he's careful, that I love him, and that I want him to come home safe but I understand regardless of the outcome."

I just smiled and held Shepherd's eyes, while frustration crossed his face. "Robert, I can't protect you if you do this!"

"Sir," interrupted Hal. "I have located a property with a ninety-point four percent probability it is the location you seek. It has access from Highway 97, and there is a possible connection between both Debra Clemons and Geoffrey Bettany to a trapper's cabin one point five-three miles due north of Mt. Roosevelt. Ownership is questionable. A, Karl Fraser is still listed as the sole owner but died on 13 August 1994. The police files show a photo of him at a wedding with his daughter Laura. Several known members of the Italian Mafia as well as Geoffrey Bettany can all be seen in the background. Age progression on his daughter indicates an eighty-six percent probability she is now known as Debra Clemons."

"That has to be the place," I exclaimed.

"How far off the highway is it?" asked Shepherd.

"It looks like fifteen miles as the crow flies," replied Sam. "Although it seems to be a decent road it looks pretty twisty and steep in places. According to Google Maps, it's just short of four hours from the airport. You can shorten the time by speeding, but I doubt by more than thirty minutes.

"Send the location to the Mounties," I told her. "But, tell them to use extreme caution and not to approach the cabin until we get there unless they can do it without being seen.

"Hal, display the cabin in question, and what's our ETA to Fort Nelson?"

"Nineteen minutes twelve seconds," stated Hal, as an image of a remote cabin appeared on the screen.

Since I wasn't in a position to use the touchscreen feature, I instructed Hal. "Hal, rotate the image fifteen degrees per second." As the image rotated, I could tell it was compiled from several satellites or images from multiple passes. It sat about three hundred yards north of the road and looked to be about four-hundred fifty square feet, comprised of a random assortment of logs. The logs were anywhere from four to six inches in diameter, with a few as big as eight inches at the bottom.

The roof had been modernized, and there was a large propane tank twenty-five yards down the slope towards the road. An outhouse sat about sixty feet to the northeast, but vents in the roof seemed to indicate a modern lavatory and kitchen had been added. I also noted a satellite dish and asked whether or not any electronic devices in the cabin could be used to see inside.

"Negative," stated Hal. "Although there are multiple devices that could be used for that purpose, all of them seem to be inside of a case or cabinet. None have a sufficient enough light source to be utilized.

We all went back to studying the image when Keith spoke up.

"The lack of trees near the cabin is a plus, but the windows are all small and there aren't very many. The best angle for me is from the front, but that puts me over a mile away on the opposite slope. I won't have any options. They'd have to pass in front of a window for me to get a shot."

As she spoke, I was reviewing options. "Wouldn't your AP rounds penetrate an eight-inch log?"

Keith gave me a strange look like she was wondering why people thought I was so smart. A heartbeat later she replied, "Yes, without a doubt, but blindly shooting into the cabin isn't what I would call an option."

"What if you could see through the walls?" I asked.

"I'm not sure how, but if I could see through the walls, then of course that would offer options."

"I brought my virtual helmet from home. I use it to follow the perfect glide path for my wingsuit while skydiving. I never miss my landing zone, not that that's important. My point is that once I'm near the cabin you could use the helmet to see inside."

Keith pondered for a few moments, then asked, "What about deflection? Just because I could see inside doesn't mean I can bulls-eye anything. I wouldn't be able to risk a shot close to either one of the hostages. I could, however, set up in that stand of trees to the west. It's only about three hundred yards and offers a longer wall. There'd be a much less likelihood of a deflection hitting the wrong person or two for that matter."

"Hal," I asked while holding up the armor-piercing rounds. "If I'm inside the cabin would that be enough for you to calculate the deflection of one of these bullets while passing through the wall so that it would hit its intended target?"

"No, that would require me to know the density and structure of the walls and all objects within the cabin. However, placement of one Black Knight every ten feet along the perimeter would allow for a complete molecular density reading, and would therefore be sufficient to provide you with an affirmative response."

"Hal, if the Black Knights were in place as you indicated, and if Tammy Keith were to wear my virtual helmet, and call her shot, could you indicate the exact point on the wall that she would have to hit for the bullet to strike her target?"

"Yes," responded Hal.

"Well, I think we have a plan," I said grinning, as Keith nodded her acceptance and Shepherd shook his head in defeat.

End of chapter 35. I hope you enjoyed it and all of my work.

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