The Fo Officer Ch 04

As always my tech friends have my deepest thanks for their advice and patience, I'm always in awe of your knowledge and patience my friends. To my Beta reader, dustybin63 his support and ability to always point and laugh has always kept me on point. To my editor, thank you so much, for everything my friend. You all take time out of your lives to help me, which I really appreciate. To those of you about to read this, please enjoy. We did our best.

Please note. This is a story.

It came from my head and not from any history books. It's a story.

*******

Jordan McEvoy...

My eyes opened just as the hammer was about to fall on the bell of my very old alarm clock that would have woken me up. My hand calmed the alarm before it made a God-awful racket in my room. My mind sought the assistance of my hands to automatically do the standard "head, shoulders, knees, and toes" check. The nightmares are few and not that often now, but this habit kept me sane in those times, and I refused to break this particular habit. My relief was self-evident, more so when I got out of bed and stood looking at my mirror, looking long and hard at the person staring back at me.

My folks were both orphans themselves that's where they met, at the orphanage, and when age allowed them to leave said orphanage and the system that took care of them until the age of adulthood, they left hand in hand. Both believed strongly in education being the key to everything. After all, they already had each other education still became their watchword. Both had letters after their names by the time I was born; the longest they seemed to stay in one spot was so that my own education could take off. It did, of course, when you take into consideration the gene pool that were the parents I came from.

Mom and Dad weren't resting on their laurels while I was working through my own education. Their research woke up parts of the technological and economic community and those same folks wanted their signatures to join them, either in the private sector with its big government contracts and of course huge wages or the slightly less affluent public companies that still had a massive reputation within their fields. Either way, the big pharmaceutical companies were willing to wait while my own education got to the point that both my folks could take me with them. When said research required them to travel away from the lab, where they seemed to spend more than half their waking hours, they took off to the outside world to collect samples for their work to continue in the lab.

Sometimes they did take me with them, and I learned so much about my parents. How both interacted with each other, holding hands and a lot of sweet moments that showed they loved each other as much now as they did when they first met. The only time I had ever heard strong words between them was in regard to some of their research. Their personal lives were all cuddles and smiles, and to me, that was true love, and I got to reap those benefits for almost eighteen years.

I was just weeks away from my eighteenth birthday when I watched my folks die at the hands of a monster and his minions, and all I could do was stand, still in shock, watching as life's precious blood left them.

With all the carnage going on around me, one man miraculously stood between me and them one man held them at bay and even got me away from the slaughter of my folks. That one man kept me sane and also alive as that same monster screamed into the jungle that I would suffer the same fate my folks had. That one man got me out of that very jungle and gave me back a life, all be it without my mother and father.

The man who saved me said the ghosts would never go away; they may sit at the back of your thoughts and let you rest occasionally. Even as the sigh left my mouth and now knowing this man's life history, I had to agree with him. Maybe when the head comes off the shoulders of the monster who slaughtered my folks, peace will eventually reign supreme. At least for my parents, if not just a little bit for my soul.

*******

It was that same dream again, made even more frustrating because my mind yielded yet another small fact. I could understand its reluctance I was almost eighteen years old when hell visited Earth and the devil took my folks' souls back with him.

We were in a spot in the middle of the jungle when our vehicle drove over an improvised booby trap. I was in the back of the vehicle; that's the part that saved my life. I remember being surrounded by some not-very-friendly-gentlemen; they pulled my folks out of the wreck that was our vehicle and then took what was left of it apart they were clearly looking for something. I figured out minutes later what it was they were looking for when they pulled me from the vehicle and used me as a punching bag. All the time screaming that they wanted my parents' research papers.

My screaming at the top of my lungs that I didn't know what they were talking about held little to no value to these people. Moments later the shooting started. One by one, these savages dropped dead in front of me. One of these monsters scooped me up and held me in front of himself as some sort of human shield, yelling something in this country's language that I didn't understand. I did understand the fear in his voice he was a big, muscular, and powerful man, but he was now alone amongst his dead friends, yet his voice gave him away he was also afraid.

He seemed to be halfway through whatever he was saying into the dense jungle when one single shot rang out; I felt and heard something pass my ear. I fell to the ground with my would-be captor now lying across me. A bush moved, and I watched as it moved. A bush actually detached itself from other bushes and walked over to me, pulling the dead man off me.

That bright, humid day in September was the day I met the man who was to be my savior; he leaned down and pulled the dead man off me and then pulled his head cover off himself. Rick Chalmers who I later learned to call Halo, was the man who stood between the devil and me that afternoon and also for some time to come. Even though I could tell he wanted us both away from the area, he afforded me the one gift I could never repay him for. He gave me the chance to say goodbye to my folks. The journey into the jungle was a mass of green, interspersed with a couple of rivers that we needed to cross to prevent the baying animals from catching up with us.

*******

Two years later...

The radio beeped twice, but I didn't acknowledge it. My training took over; the scope on my rifle was a one-off design. My mentor took me to a little back alley shop in the center of London. It felt like I spent half the day getting my eyes tested by a little man who must have been a hundred if he was a day. Almost a month later, Rick and I were booked onto the rifle ranges at Thetford. We watched and waited as they combined two ranges to achieve the thousand, two hundred, and fifty yards of the range.

The range marshals were always nervous about opening this range. To achieve its full length, the range had to cross a rifle range that was already in situ. It meant they had to post people at the access road I suppose it galled them that they had to take flasks for their coffee with them rather than make it fresh in their own comfortable range huts.

When the chief range marshal got the all-clear from each of his minions, he ticked them off on his sheet of paper and then handed it over to Rick. It was only when Rick signed at the bottom of the sheet that he even cracked a smile. To the range marshal, it was Rick Chalmers who was responsible for the range now, until I had finished anyway.

I was still loading magazines in one of the holding area huts when Rick came back with two mugs of coffee. I put the magazine down and took my mug, then looked closely at my friend and mentor.

"So are you going to let me in on this big secret of yours, or am I walking aimlessly through life once again, wondering why I was given birth?"

My friend smiled, relaxed back on his seat, and rested his back against the wall of the hut we were using.

"Well, once upon a time, your mommy and daddy."

He saw me roll my eyes; I know he damn well did.

Just then Rick's radio clicked once, and it was then that we heard a vehicle approach. Rick got up and left the hut. I went back to loading magazines, then checking the mags' spring held the correct tension with a magazine full of rounds. After a moment, two men looked in through the open door. It would have been a strange sight, a young lady dressed in camouflage, sitting cross-legged on the floor, loaded magazines on one side, spares on the other, and a box of ammunition directly in front of me. Rick's friend just nodded at me and left, Rick came back a few minutes later and joined me.

Finally feeling frustrated, I put the now full magazine down and stared at my friend and mentor. "Rick, why are we doing this? We both eventually agreed that I would follow my folks' lead into the educational and research world. You told me yourself that I would be wasted in the armed forces."

My friend thought for a moment, then pointed to my mug of coffee. I took the hint and placed the full magazine among the other five, then picked up my own coffee. I even smiled; both my folks were tea drinkers; it was Rick who got me onto coffee, and I hadn't touched tea since that day.

"The man you just met was my boss, and his name is Curtis. Between us, we have been unofficially tearing your life apart, looking for the reason why your parents were killed. We pretty much have everything now."

As I sat looking at the man who saved my life, who also gave me my life back and promised the day he rescued me from that jungle spot he would get to the bottom of why my parents were killed. He never gave up; it may have taken a few years, but periodically he would always come by while I was at college and talk to me, telling me what he knew and what direction his leads into all this were taking him.

The achingly slow progress was because all of his and his friends' snooping was being done in the quiet. Making it an official question would have raised me up above the anonymity that I now lived in once again. That's when other questions would have been asked, and none of us could afford that luxury, not while the monster was still out there looking for me.

It seemed a large part of all this was my parents' research. Through some sort of freak test, they had developed a system to add longevity to plant life, a way to not only keep plant life alive in various harsh conditions but also free from diseases; the food chain would increase, helping with decreasing famine. Then came a man called Hector; I never knew his last name. He was polite, right up until my folks said "no" to handing him all their research. They were patient enough to explain to him that the whole world needed this research, whereas Hector had already told my folks that he would remove it from the world's eyes and only use it to keep his own marijuana plants in good health.

My folks were appalled and told him to leave the lab or they would call the police. Knowing what she did now, she truly wished her folks had done just that.

He shrugged his shoulders, smiled, shook my folks' hands, and said goodbye. A few weeks later, in the backwater part of a country's jungle, Hell came, and the devil took my folks with him and his minions. It was Rick standing between him and me, being the reason I was still alive today. When I was flown out of the jungle and back home, my parents' lab was broken into and burned to the ground. The internal security cameras recorded the intruders' fist-pumping each other as they opened the lab's safe. The anger came a few seconds later when they didn't seem to find what they were looking for. Rick and I could only assume that they weren't given instructions on what to do if they didn't find what they were looking for in the lab's safe.

The torching of my parents' lab was revenge and trying to hide the fact they were there in the first place. It seems that because Hector's minions never found my folks' research at the lab, the location of all their research died with my folks. It also seems that Hector didn't believe my ignorance as to where my folks put all their research. I was rapidly heading towards eighteen for God's sake; why would they hand me information like that? I was more into singers and dancing, friends, and what mall we were going to hang out in that weekend at the time.

Rick Chalmers was the stability in my life from that day of carnage onwards. I met his wife a couple of times and his children, of course. Rick had moved me to America, and suddenly I found my name had changed. I was no longer Jordan McEvoy. Everything handed to me that had my name on it from that day onward had Jordan Bennett on it. I knew why because he sat me down and told me in plain English.

A man as powerful as Hector was, he had time and patience on his side. He was waiting for me to slip up; what kept me alive was a man who knew how to stay away from the limelight, a chameleon who was so comfortable in his own skin that he could literally hide in plain sight.

Hector was going to be a proactive shadow over me for some years to come. Rick always seemed to sense when to move me; I got good grades at school. Oh yes, Rick insisted that college was still going to happen, and as insulated as I was, I flourished. Rick also took me away for long weekends and for the whole of the summer holidays and any other holidays afforded to me through my college years and taught me stuff that wasn't in any school textbook that was for sure.

Rick said I was a savant; he only needed to explain something once, or even show me once, and I had it down pat. He only admitted it to me that one time, that bright, sunny Thursday in June, that I was as good as him on a rifle range. His male pride refused to repeat it. My heart swelled with pride, though my mentor was whom I wanted so much to emulate, and his gift of those few words made all this blood, sweat, and many, many tears worth it. I hugged him, and he was comfortable with me doing it as well; he once said that it was still the human part of me talking and to keep that human part of me alive at all costs.

*******

Some time ago we were taking a short break on one of the military ranges in America, sitting on the side of a hill and watching the birds moving around in the sky, even the eagle flying higher up as it adjusted its wings and came in at an angle on its prey. Even though it was fascinating to watch, it still made me shudder and gave me a gentle reminder that the eagle was still out there, and it was up to me to make sure I wasn't going to be the prey.

"Will it ever end, Rick?"

My mentor was sitting right beside me, watching everything that I was. He understood what I meant with my question.

"It will soon, sweetheart; he knows other forces are rallying against him. He promised to deliver on your folks' research, and he's come up empty-handed. Even to this day he still believes that you hold the key to all this."

I looked at Rick, my mouth opened to argue his claim, but he continued talking as we both watched the eagles own speed dive, tear through the birds and bring one to the ground. The eagles wings surrounded it's dinner as it set about feeding off of it.

"I truly doubt we will ever find their research; they've done a heck of a job hiding it. It will be due to pure luck rather than good detective work should we ever find it. The added bonus is, of course, that the longer no one finds it, the bigger the hole Hector has dug himself."

I've been around this man long enough to know he was hovering on the edge of saying something else. In the end, I turned to look at him; he understood and continued.

"It may also be a case of whether we go after him rather than wait for the other drug cartels to deal with him."

My thoughts went once again to the cowardly way Hector had killed my folks because they said no to him. In the end, we both nodded in agreement that confrontation could well be coming. Rick never hid the fact that for me to live a normal life, one of us was going to have to die; that was for sure. Hector showed no remorse when he had my parents killed; he would show even less if he managed to stand over my blood-stained body. I dare say a happy dance would be included if he ever found my parents' research from it as well.

Rick had spent so much time and resources hiding me that, so far, it had all worked. But college would soon be over for me; I had taken every course I needed to go into the field of my choice, and it would soon be time to step out into the real world. Living under an assumed name kept me safe, and between Rick and Constance, they had even put together a watertight life history to pad out my made-up name that it would be close to impossible to pull it down.

On one of my visits to the ranch, Constance sat me down and told me that my new life's history had monitors on it. If anyone, be they law enforcement or even tech hackers tried to pry into my life, not only would she be informed immediately, but she would also know who and where these people are.

I cried, not in fear, but more from relief that I had these people in my life. I wasn't stupid if my mentor hadn't been in that area on another assignment and watched through a sniper's scope the cold-blooded killing of my folks, I would be as dead as my mom and dad. My second family kept me safe, alive, and above all sane, and were still doing it.

*******

Then came the day I had been waiting for. Rick phoned and told me to be ready to be picked up. His people came for me at the College; we traveled overnight to an airfield, and I met up with Rick. It was there that I changed clothes and he briefed me.

Hector was on the move and now was the time to end this. Again, we traveled overnight. I had no idea where we were, and it wasn't important to me, to be honest. I just wanted the monster dead so I could live my life without looking under the bed at night. Yes, a good night's sleep would be ever so welcome knowing that the monster was dead and I wasn't.

It was Rick's years of hard-earned experience that kept us alive that day. Rick Chalmers, to some, was and always will be Halo Two-Five. All those years in the army, and of course, the Unit paid dividends that day when his senses screamed TRAP. We were still on the periphery, so the monster couldn't snap the door shut and cut us off.

We kept them at bay. The training that was hammered into me over the time I have been with Halo came to the fore that day we withdrew and kept moving. Being fluid caused them all sorts of problems; then Rick's luck ran out, and he caught a round. He dropped to a knee, and I did something stupid; I emptied what was left in my mag into the man who shot my mentor.

Even holding his side, he shouted at me to "Fucking think about what I'm doing."

Trust me, when Halo shouts at you, even in the middle of a firefight, you damn well listen. Because your life will always depend on it. For the next hour, we kept moving further from the trap that the monster had relied on to kill us both. It was as we sat and rested for a moment he handed me his cell and told me who to call.

It was the look in his eyes that told me he would broach no refusal; Rick was still bleeding despite me patching him up and the painkillers I had given him. We couldn't outrun these people; standing and fighting was an option, but a minor one. We were alone, and the monster could call on more men at a moment's notice. With Rick wounded, we both reluctantly admitted that we needed help; Joan was our Hail Mary. To bring the Unit into this meant I would be exposed to her world, and those who protected me all this time would be brought into the light as well.