Counter Ops chapters 1-3

                                                            I
Washington DC-4:30 am August 28:  As he entered the room he scanned across the walls, just as he had learned at the academy.  Left to right, up than down; it was clear as usual, but he needed to take these precautions, his life depended on it. The room was no bigger than a jail cell, and contained only a chair, and a steel desk with a laptop on top of it, it wasn’t even really a room at all, just a storage container used at commercial facilities. He sat at the desk, and turned on the laptop. The room was a dead drop, and the computer contained all the information he would need. He entered his user name, and password. Hitting the enter key would be the last thing he ever did, when he hit the key, it closed a circuit in the computer which armed a block of C4 taped to the chair. No last thoughts, only an explosion in the down town DC area.
Langley, Virginia: Kevin Carter walked through the doors to the CIA building in Virginia. He was slim, about six feet tall, with no real distinguishing features, today his average frame was held up on wobbly legs. He was fresh out of the academy, and had been assigned to the counter-operatives department. It was the department most known around the world, maybe only five percent of all employees worked in this field, but they accounted for most of the CIA’s news stories, good or bad. Carter wondered of all new agents felt this nervous their first day. He had already lost his breakfast this morning before driving in to work, and thought he might chuck again, except there was nothing to come up. He walked up to the guard and swiped his card, with a relief it worked. He wondered why he was so relieved it worked, had he thought he had a fake card, or maybe he would have swiped his Visa by mistake. He shook his head clear of the thought and got into the elevator to take him to his floor.
         Police swarmed the blast area, along with the FBI, and ATF. The police had shut down traffic three miles outside of the blast radius, and had secured the area first. When the FBI arrived they quickly took over, and made no effort to hide their disdain for how the regular cops may have already contaminated the evidence. ATF showed up, but was only playing a support role. The CIA wasn’t notified yet, since there main concern is the rest of the world outside of the US borders. The FBI was the major homeland terrorism investigative unit, and a bomb in the middle of DC qualified as a terrorist hit pretty quickly. The bomb wasn’t large but it had done the job. Fragments of nails and marbles were being found in bits of bones, since the initial blast had pretty much burned off all the skin, the skull was still a little moist, but it was also found fifty feet away from the body. It was a basic shape charge, that from the looks of it had been victim triggered, from the laptop. It had all the markings of an amateur bomb maker, and a skilled technician. The feds had managed to run partial dentals, and a tiny bit of traceable DNA, from the partially charred skull, and that was enough to get a hit on a Michael Young. The problem was Young was a CIA agent, which meant now the feds had to bring in the CIA, and they hated that fact. The two Agencies were rivals on the same side. Luckily they focused on two different areas of the world. Homeland belonging to the feds, outside the borders went to CIA, but when the two did work together, often times they clashed, with two different sets of SOPs, and Operational tactics. As soon as the CIA was contacted, so was an EOD team to come and look at the device.
         EOD had already inspected the device, when the CIA team arrived. The explosive was less than a brick of C4 explosives, more than enough to do the job; they had been wrapped with marbles, and nails, a classic mark of an IED in Iraq, or Afghanistan. The C4 was wrapped in det cord, and linked to the computer, EOD guessed that the device was already armed, and that the bomb exploded when Young hit the enter key. The bomb itself was easy to make, but the setup, while not entirely intricate, was more advanced than EOD, CIA, or the FBI cared to see. While EOD was briefing the lead CIA agent, a motorcade pulled up, and out of a black SUV stepped CIA Director Welch.
         “Special Agent Han what do we have?” Asked Welch.
         Han who had previously been the senior agent on scene was beside himself that the director would be taking personal interest in this case; he seemed to be too busy to be pulled out of the office even if it was a bomb in DC, no major landmarks or important people had been hit. “Sir we have an amateur bomb, with advanced wiring, its nothing we haven’t seen before, but it’s still unsettling.” Han wasn’t an expert in explosives, his main field had been ballistics, you put him in a room with 5 gunned down bodies, and he could tell you where they were shot from, who died first, from which rounds, and the distance from which they were fired.
         “Agent Han, Agent Young was involved in a highly sensitive case, and we believe there may be information on the laptop that may help with this case.”
         Han cut him off “Uh sir the laptop…its gone we have a frame, and maybe some screen, there was about one brick of C4, so whatever was on the drive is gone, and our best techs say there is no possible way to retrieve info off a drive that damaged.”
         Welch looked unpleased but he silently agreed with Han, he didn’t know what to expect them to be able to do with a blown to shit computer. Han directed him to the blast site, and watched as Welch walked over and lit a cigarette, but before he could take the first drag, a 7.62 sniper round crashed into his skull sending his head flying back giving a sickly impression of whiplash, the sound of the shot caught up with the round and echoed in the surrounding area. Welch lay dead in the street as the other agents panicked, not knowing what to do. CIA agents with M4s jumped out of the other SUVs in the motorcade that had pulled up, and ran to drag Welch’s body behind cover, another shot rang out and this time an EOD technician went down grabbing on to his throat. Agent Kerry was in charge of the ERT element from the motorcade, and had placed where the shot had come from; judging by the second shot it was from a building four blocks down the street. A muzzle flash confirmed his suspicions, but the round traveling from that muzzle found a third victim, and sent him to the ground with a hole in his head as well. ‘Damn this motherfuckers good’ Kerry thought to him self. With a wave of his arm his team was following him down the street, moving from cover to cover. More shots rang out, but Kerry didn’t look back to see if any damage had been done, this guy was skilled and probably wouldn’t be wasting rounds, so Kerry just assumed the worst. Finally his team reached the building unseen, and stacked up on the back door, he only had five men with him, so he’d leave two outside for security, and take the other three with him into the building.
After Kerry had checked the door for a trap and made sure it was safe, he opened the door and the four men poured into the room within three seconds. Silence was key, and since no one knew they were here they could get the drop on whoever was here. Another shot from upstairs, training took over, and they cleared the first floor, quickly and quietly than moved up to the second floor. Kerry had his team stack up and again they piled in, this time Kerry saw a man in his way lift up a rifle. Before he could bring it all the way up six rounds had been put into the man’s chest, as the man fell backwards his finger hit the trigger sending a burst of rounds into the ceiling, he hit the ground and just laid there in his own blood. As his team started to stack up on the last room, rounds started coming out of the door. The sniper had heard the shooting and knew he was trapped. One of Kerry’s men caught a round in the leg, but managed to crawl out of harms way, and was even able to pull security on the stairs incase they had missed one downstairs. Kerry squatted down against the wall getting low, when he was ready, he spun around into the room charging the man with the rifle the man behind Kerry came in high and together. As kerry drew up his sights on the shooter, he could feel a round from the long rifle pass by his ear, that was all he needed and unfurled a barrage of lead into the shooters torso, the two put thirteen rounds total into the body.
                                                          II
         Back at Langley Carter had already received his briefing, just the usual things OPSEC, and SOPs nothing new to him; before he had joined the CIA Carter had been in the Army’s SOG 5. He had spent most of his career at Bragg, doing missions out of South America and Mexico, mostly drug cartel related missions. He was disappointed he’d never gotten a chance to deploy to Iraq or Afghanistan, but he still had his share of excitement. Several missions had been tense, and he had been involved in a hostage rescue that turned south, leaving five innocents dead, and his team leader without a lower body. Somehow he had gotten out of his six years unscathed, and with no regrets. He had read about how veterans had come back regretting what they’d done, and fell in depression. This wasn’t him every life he had taken was worth it. But this new job was going to be different than anything he’d ever done. In the army even in Spec Ops, you work with people you can rely on, here in the CIA you were all alone, sure you may have support, but you go out on missions alone, it took a different level of awareness, and heightened security.
         Kevin’s phone rang; he let it ring a couple times, than picked it up. “Carter”.
         “Kevin its mike,” Mike was Kevin’s station chief in charge of field ops. “Look at CNNs website quick. There’ll be a brief in ten.” A click ended the conversation.
         Kevin turned on his laptop issued to him by the Agency, and turned to CNN.com. The main story’s sub line read. “CIA’s director and six others gunned down, one killed in explosion.” Kevin couldn’t believe what he was reading; his boss’s boss was dead, meaning that momentarily the CIA was without a leader, that wouldn’t last the rest of the day though he figured. The story indicated towards Middle Eastern terrorists, but since no official report had come in it was all speculation. The way it read out it sounded like an Iraqis ambush, from what his buddies in the 7th SOG had said. First use an IED, than small arms fire. Carter closed his laptop, and left it on his desk, reached into the drawer and pulled out a SIG P227, and put it on his hip, hiding it with his suit coat. He like the sig, because of its reliability and stopping power, depending on which barrel he had put on, he could put a 9mm, a .40, a .45, or a .357 round through the weapon. He walked out the door and towards the brief room, where he hoped he would get thrown into the mix quickly.
         The briefing room was packed full when Carter walked in, despite its size it was remarkably unglamorous, with a projector on one side and a screen on the other. The smell of coffee filled the room, as the coffee maker churned away. It was eerily quiet in the room, and the recent news made the mood somber. Michael Simpson was sitting at the head of the table his head buried in files reviewing the day’s events and time lines. Simpson had been at the agency for 18 years, and had risen through the field operations department, and now he led the section at Langley, despite his seniority, his field background kept him grounded and instead of sir or Mr. Simpson he just went by Mike. He was pretty tall, and his age and inactivity had made him pudgy, but he was still in decent shape. On his right hand he was missing his pinkie and ring finger, he had lost those two fingers on an operation where he had been captured, and even though he hated the FBI he owed his life to them. He may have lost two fingers but he always thought about how much else he might have lost if the FBI’s HRT team hadn’t saved his life that night in Texas border town. Other than those two fingers he had survived nine years as a field agent operating all over the world, in some hairy missions. Finally Mike rose up from his seat and switched on the projector, and a picture of Young, and the blast site where he was at came up on the screen.
         “Alright everyone this morning at 4:30 Michael Young was at an Agency drop site, when he was killed by a brick of C4,” He clicked the mouse and the picture of the device now filled the screen. “The FBI originally responded, but contacted us when his identity was confirmed, EOD also responded and confirmed the facts about the explosive device. Young had been working on a classified mission, everyone’s clearance has been upgraded to see the details of the file when this meeting is over, but it is still considered classified. Young had been working on infiltrating a cell of Al-Quada under the alias Mohammad Alim Yousef, his Pakistani background, and fluency in Arabic allowed him to succeed up to this point, but his infiltration had not yet revealed any sensitive info on any upcoming Al-Quada attacks. We do know that the cell’s leader goes by the name Ali Zakari from Saudi Arabia. Zakari’s file is thin, as the Saudi government has been slow in cooperating with us, but we do know he has been a key part in many attacks specifically in the USS Cole attack, and other embassies around the world. We think Young’s cover may have been blown by a mole, but at this point it’s all speculation.” Mike took a pause as he took a drink from his mug, and flipped the picture to Zakari. Zakari was an unremarkable man, fat, and losing his hair, he looked about forty something, he was clean shaven and a scar under his lip was the only identifying mark on his face. Carter flipped through his file, and saw he was educated in Europe, and spoke fluent English, Arabic, and French. That wasn’t surprising though many of the terrorist leaders spoke many languages, and were well educated. Mike picked back up again.
         “Alright more details on Young’s assignment will be provided when the time comes. CIA director Welch arrived on scene at about 8:15, shortly after he was gunned down by a sniper using a dragunov rifle. Two members of EOD, two CIA agents, one FBI agent, and one ATF agent were also killed by the shooter, Agent Kerry’s ERT team assaulted the building and killed two men,” Another click brought up two pictures of the two men in the building, their bodies were bloody, and the pictures showed that the ERT had put some serious lead into the bodies. “One member of the team took a round to the leg, but he’s recovering in the hospital. The shooters were Middle Eastern with American citizenship, suggesting that maybe the cell Young was infiltrating has made its way to America, we wont know because Young was killed before he could upload his data to us. Whatever it was he needed to get to us, was important. He had called an emergency drop; it was hasty, meaning more people than usual had knowledge to its location.” Mike took another drink. “Alright well that’s all for now, any questions?”
         A  brunette woman raised her hand.
         “Yes Jan.” Mike said pointing to the brunette.”
         “Ya Mike any word on who will be the new director?”
         “Uh there saying for now Harry Suthers, our division chief will be taking over, but they are looking to see if another candidate pops up. Any others?” No one else raised their hand Suthers had been with the agency for over 25 years and was probably the best choice for the job he had a background in field work, and analytical work that would translate well into the director’s job. “Alright everyone get back to work and let’s try to catch a break in this case.” As everyone got up Mike got Carter’s attention. “Hey Carter stay after for a minute.”
         Clark walked over to where Mike was sitting and took a seat across from him.
         “What’s up Mike?”
         “Kevin I know you just got here, but I’m thinking about sending you out in the field, with a team.” Kevin’s heart shot at the chance to get out, but he didn’t give any outward indication of his excitement. “What do you think?” Mike asked.
         “I’m ready if that’s what you’re asking.” Carter said slowly, carefully contemplating his words.
         “Good Mark Fisher is heading up a team that’s getting ready to go over to Iraq, and from there where ever the leads take them. Its not undercover work so you won’t need a cover, but the team will still be handled by me. I’ve already talked to Fisher, and he’s got a spot for another shooter on his team, you’ll be the fifth member of the task force. Go home tonight and in the morning you can report to him, you’ll need this.” Mike slid a key card across the table. “It’s already got your security clearance, and fingerprint accesses on it, in the morning go down to the basement level, and you should be able to get into the team’s ready room. Until than go home and get some rest.” With that Mike got up and left the briefing room, leaving Carter alone.
         Later that night Carter lay on his couch pouring over the detail in the files Mike had given him on his team. The teams leader was Mark Fisher, a black man tall and built, he had served with the 101st in Desert Storm, and had been a member of SF until 2000 when he joined the agency. He had been on missions all over the world, Kosovo, North Korea, Africa, Germany, China, and some incidents in America. Fisher’s team wasn’t exactly a covert team; they identified problems, and eliminated them. Fisher’s number two man, Don Mars, was the demolition man. Mars had been through the EOD School, even though he wasn’t military, making him almost a subject expert, on any kind of explosive from a pipe bomb to a nuke. Salim Wilson was the team’s interpreter for the mission, born in Israel; he knew English, Arabic, and Farsi. Wilson had also served on the Israeli Special Forces, when he was 17. After he was kicked out he came to America and become an agent. The team’s medic was Sarah Joannas, she had black hair, and the most steel gray eyes he had ever seen. Joannas ‘ father had also been in the agency, and when he was killed during an operation, she dropped out of college to pursue a career in the same field. Carter figured he’d be a shooter as Mike had said, that was his specialty with anything from a Glock to an AT-4 he was an exceptional shot. He had been trained on all American weapons, and most forein weapons including the AK-47, G36, G3, Dragunov, RPG, RPK, and the FAMAS to name a few. In his military career he had never qualified lower than a 39 out of 40. Cater reached into his pocket and fished out a pack of Camel lights, and took one out, put it in his mouth, and lit it, the bright red cherry was the only light in the room, as Carter turned out the lights, and relaxed on the couch. Sleep was cathcing him, it had been a long day, and he was sure more were to follow.
                                                      III
         Washington DC-6:00 am August 29: Don Griffen walked out of his Georgetown townhouse, and stepped into his Mercaides CLK, and backed down the driveway. For the past 3 years Don had been one of Texas’s senators. He was up for re-election this year, so he was blazing through the campaign trail. He stopped his car at a starbucks down the street, this was a part of his routine; He had been in the Army several years, and had made it to Major, before he retired right after Desert Storm, so routines were customary for him.  He had been a member of the Army’s most elite special forces team, Delta force, and had done missions in Panama, America, Mexico, and Brazil, but mostly Iraq. He ordered the same thing he did every morning, a tall latte, and picked up a copy of the Washington Post. On the cover were the pictures of all the people who had been killed the previous morning. Senator Griffen feigned surprise and shock at the story, but he already knew the important details, and not just the who, what, when, where, and how, but he knew the most important detail, why. He smiled to himself, that he might be the source of so much attention, but still hated the fact that no one knew his name yet, outside of Texas. But they would soon, after all it had been his position on the US military arms bored that had allowed him to procure the explosives needed for the downtown attack. He tucked the paper under his arm as he left starbucks, he took a left down the street towards capitol hill, walking from the coffee shop to work was another part of his routine, Today was different though, as he was walking he pulled out a white envelope from his suit coat pocket and discarded it in a trashcan nearby. After glancing around to see if anyone may have seen he set off again, no doubt there would be a committee meeting today.
         Tali Mushar saw the envelope  go into the trashcan from the driver’s seat of his Ford pickup. He waited ten minutes never taking his eyes off of the can. He lit up a cigarette, and stepped outside closing the door behind him. He walked casually over to the can, and checked for obvious observers before reaching in and retrieving the envelope. He had to resist the urge to sprint back to the truck, but he kept his cool and walked back and hopped in. He opened the envelope before starting the engine, and saw the $75,000 that the senator had promised him; along with the money were more instructions on how to get the other $75,000. The location was where they had agreed to meet; he started up the engine and drove off to the location.
         The drive to gas station took about 20 minutes in rush hour traffic, Tali reached for another ciggarette from the pack, but before putting the pack away, he stored a flash drive into the pack, and placed it back into his pocket. He stepped outside and started fuelling his truck. A man walked up to him, Tali watched him approach.
         “You got a cigarette man?” The man asked him as he slid an envelope through the passenger window. Tali fished the pack of Newports out of his pocket and tossed them to the man. The man nodded in appreciation and walked off.
         Tali got back into his car, his day wasn’t over, he still had a plane to catch.
         Back on capitol hill Senator Griffen sat in his seat pouring over the rest of the Washington Post, waiting on the committee meeting to start. He saw everyone else was seated except the board’s commissioner, Gary Ruthers.  Griffen couldn’t stand Ruthers, always late and seemingly out of touch with events around the world, all he cared about was putting weapons in the hands of soldiers who mindlessly followed orders of the President, who was all too concerned about appeasing special interest groups. But Griffen had the solution, people might not realize  why he did what he had to do now, but someday America would remember him as a hero. Ruthers finally walked in and took his seat next to Griffen, with a pound of the gavel the session began.
         “General Knotts the report on the C4 indicates  that it came from our supply.” Ruthers didn’t start off slowly. This kind of attack needed to be handled quickly and as quietly as possible.
         The General hesitated before starting in. “ Its possible, we cant really trace it back to anywhere specific, but to be honest… we don’t even know where all of our supplies are half the time. It would have been too easy for some one with the wrong intentions, and the right clearance to get some of this.” The General paused, “That being said the C4 is definitely military, it fits NATO specifications perfectly and the type used in the attack was controllable enough to be used by anyone.”
         The Generals comments made everyone a tad nervous, but its not like it was news to many of them.
         Meanwhile across town at Dulles International Airport, Tali had checked his bags and made his way to the security checkpoint. After making it through the checkpoint. He found his terminal, and purchased an American magazine, and sat down and pretended to read it. He could read English just fine, but he had no interest, in the sinful ways of the celebrities that defiled the pages. He found however that reading such magazines as this made him seem normal, also he had shaved a few nights prior giving him a short stubble, he hated not having his normal beard, but it was another thing that made Americans uneasy. In a few hours his plane would be ready, and he would be on his way to Kuwait.
         Don Griffen made his way down the steps of Capitol Hill, and into the limo waiting for him. He opened the door and got in.
         “Hows it goin Josh?” Don asked to the young man sitting across from him. The man was dressed in a dark blue suit, from one of the high end shops around D.C. he had short black hair, and a look about him that made some people uneasy. That was the reason Don like him though. Josh never joked around, and was reliable.
         “Our mans on his way to Kuwait right now he should arrive within 14 hours.” He pulled out a pack of Newports and pulled out the flash drive. “This holds all the details of the mission. We need some help pointing the blame, but we have people inside the right intelligence agencies that can handle that. All you need to do is stay out of the microscope and we should be fine.”
         Don took the drive and nodded. Taking out the CIA director had been good for them, but that was not his main objective. Killing the CIA agent, Young had been the priority, he had come close to discovering his plan, and he had needed to go.
         “Thank you Josh.” With that Josh stepped out of the limo as it pulled away.