CHAPTER 8

The beard was now gone and it was somewhat irritating. Not only was John constantly scratching at his face but, he now had a uniform on and it drew a good deal of unwanted attention. The elves that ran the little office where he was getting his final departure stamps, seemed unusually hostile. He had gone past many of the same faces when he first arrived and, back then, he did not remember the attitude that they now all seemed to universally share. Snow said nothing about it. In a few hours he would leave the temple, arrive back at Coven Hill, and be done with all of this. It left a smile on his face when he realized that it would probably also be, forever behind him.

As we walked to the departure area, for military personnel, John found the little stretch of colonnades virtually deserted. The temple had been standing for ages and, the people using the dell had always been quite limited. That made this facility very small and, that was particularly true in comparison to the kind of place they had been building on the other side, at the Welsh border. John figured that they had probably gotten quite a bit done since he left and, he was actually kind of curious to see it but, only a little. John’s real thoughts were about getting back to his little flat in Chelmsford, seeing his family, his friends, and then putting himself one step closer too seeing his daughter. John was seriously hoping that would not require an international flight. This little “adventure” had required more traveling than he could stomach in a lifetime.

There was one face on the platform that John recognized and, as he first set his bags down, he chose to ignore the man. Unfortunately, the man did not return the favor. David Cross, in his black field uniform, lacking the usual items of mayhem that one would see in the bush, came strolling over. The guy was pleasant enough when he said, “heard you were going home.”

“I guess,” John replied, “you heard right.” John decided to keep Cross as far from his personal business as he could, “I didn’t expect to see you on this side, let alone on the way back. How long you been over here?”

Cross had a certain distaste on his face and John could guess why. David had always been the kind of guy to maintain his bearing and while his accent wreaked of the north, his diction always sounded as posh as a rich Londoner. Maybe it had been such contradictions that formed David’s personality, that of being a royal dickhead. John was pretty sure that David’s current distaste probably had something to do with the fact that, while serving here, John had picked up quite a few American speech patterns. Something that went with his English country accent about as well as David’s own strange mix.

Still, Cross paid John the compliment of taking the change of subject, “oh I’m always crossing back and forth. You might can guess why I happen to be here, at this moment.”

Usually, when someone like David failed to bring up specifics it could only mean one thing when discussing business, “the Americans, right?”

The subdued look on Cross’ face told John that he had hit it on the mark. At first it looked like disgust but, David managed to form a smile out of that. He remained easy enough as he nodded to a tractor trailer parked over on the ready line, “for some strange reason, Sir Arthur decided that I had to personally be here for that.”

Everyone, or, at least, everybody that was in the know, was aware that David Cross was a water boy for Arthur Cavendish. If you saw Cross around that usually meant that Cavendish had an interest in what was going on. The ordinary looking truck, with it’s shipping container strapped down to a flatbed, seemed rather unimportant. It made Snow wonder what was on it but, then again, he was almost at the point where he no longer had to care.

Cross seemed to be able to read as much on John’s face. He also noted, “don’t ask me what is in there, I have no clue.”

“Wasn’t really planning on it,” was all that John had to say as he noted his bus pulling up to the line. He gathered his things and, as he walked for the bus, he heard Cross call out, “I’ll say hello to Carol for you.” John decided not to answer and just got on his bus. That drew a smirk from David as he then strolled over to the truck where a small party of uniforms had collected near the rear.

David saluted the American General as he stopped just short of the group, and then he told them, “I suppose you wish to inspect the contents, sir?”

Garret stubbed out his cigar on the heel of his boot and nodded to the Brit, “that would be a fair assumption Major Cross.” David pulled the keys from his pocket and unlocked the back doors. When he pulled one of them open a cold mist drifted out and he told the American, “bit chilly inside, sir.”

“I see that,” Garret replied as he climbed up anyway. He stayed inside the vehicle for a few minutes and then came back out. Once his boots hit the asphalt he slapped at his sleeves, rubbed the front of his shirt, and said, “looks like it’s all there. Course, I am sure as hell no expert in what all should be there.”

As David began closing and locking up he said, “I assure you General, it’s exactly as promised.”

“Good for you Major,” Garret replied as if he were not convinced. Then he simply asked, “you riding back with us?”

That is exactly what David was doing, as ordered. The General had a special car that was designed to travel through the vacuum that was created in the embarkation rooms on both sides. It was a stretched vehicle and did not look very different from a standard limousine. The inside was an entirely different matter, as David noted. Garret, and his staff, had a complete communications and work station inside. The vehicle was armored but, in such a way that you could not really tell from a casual glance. Still, despite the tactical modifications, the car was very comfortable.

Once they had driven through the Dell, the computers and electronics inside began to light up. The American communications network was very much on line and David did think that significant enough to note for a later report. Up till now, his people had assumed that only after the big doors of Building Thirteen were opened, and the radar’s shut down, could any com network function. Apparently the American’s had already figured out how to do it. David had a less than flattering opinion of the Americans but, he did realize, anyone who underestimated their techno prowess usually did so at their own peril. Now, if they would only stop being so stupid about everything else!

Once the convoy was driving back towards the central facility of C.H.I.E.F. David let it be known where he could be dropped off. Garret was only more than happy to comply. Once the Brit was gone, and the convoy was moving towards one of the support air fields, Garret had to ask, “are we back on line yet?”

The young Captain, Sharon Patterson, looked away form her computer screen, “we’re coming back on line now, sir. I had to reboot, sorry about that.”

Garret simply lit his cigar and laughed, “that’s all right Captain. Our guest didn’t notice. I think we made the impression that we wanted too. Now find out if our transport is sitting pretty.”

It did not take long and the small convoy pulled up on the tarmac not long after that. Two fighter escorts were parked along a flight line, a C-141 transport was sticking half out of a hangar, and a small executive jet, with no markings, was parked just past that hangar. The tractor trailer and the Hummers drove into the hangar while Garret’s vehicle pulled up next to the executive aircraft. Garret gave a few instructions to his people before he got out of his car and boarded the jet. He was somewhat surprised to see who was waiting there for him, although, he realized that maybe he should not have been.

Bill Devon was sitting in one of the Captain’s chairs and reading a paper file that was marked classified. He barely noticed his staff working around him but, he did close the folder when he saw the General walking in the cabin. Bill nodded to the empty seat across from him and said, “Jim, take a load off. Want some breakfast, something to drink maybe? I can’t vouch for the food but, it beats nothing.”

Garret sat down across from the Secretary of State and waived off the refreshments as he said, “so what do I owe the privilege of your company? I kind of thought I‘d be dealing with Mary.”

“Well,” Devon replied, “officially I am on the way back from, yet another, high level NATO meeting in Brussels. This one was more of a pain in the ass than usual. Several of our allies are not so happy about our recent deployments. If they’re bitching about Isaacs then you can kind of figure what China and Russia are doing.”

“Well,” Garret replied, “to be perfectly honest with you Bill, they’re not the only ones. I haven’t exactly gone on record but, between you, me, and the four walls, this whole operation is a bad idea.”

That caused Devon to chuckle as he dropped the classified folder on a stack full of others and then said, “you’ll be happy to know that even the President agrees with your assessment. Hell, Jimmy, everybody knows that and it’s exactly why the Chinese haven’t exactly screamed too loudly about it in New York. I think they’re perfectly happy to let us be the ones who stick our necks out on this one. In fact, the only ones that I would have expected the most resistance from are the very ones that seem to be helping it along.”

“Not very much,” Garret replied with absolute certainty. He then said, “Bill, if this is such a bad idea then why are we doing it? The Elves have been hitting us up since day one and, now, the administration wants to play ball? You know what the Arbuckle/Moore report said.”

“Yeah I do Jim,” Devon relented, “but I also know what a few other reports said. Some of them you haven’t seen yet.” Devon could see that Garret was not particularly happy with that bit of news. Garret, also, seemed less than surprised. Devon tossed him a bone, “tell you the truth, we would have probably done this two years ago. Since I was sitting in on those meetings, I can tell you that, the cabinet and a few congressional committee’s gave that option some healthy table time.”

There was only one question for Garret, “so what stopped us?”

“I’d like to say politics,” Devon replied, “only in this case what we were really waiting for was what gave us the time to play politics. You’re going to laugh when I tell you what that something was.” When Garret did not reply, Devon told him, “we were waiting on the CDC.”

The Center For Disease Control was the hold up? Garret did not exactly see how that was possible, even if he was aware of their activities in Feyland. Now, hearing this from a man who was not only running American foreign policy but, was also a presidential hopeful in the next election, Garret became somewhat alarmed, “what did they find?”

“That’s the funny part,” Devon replied. “It’s not what they found, it’s what they didn’t.” Garret was confused and Bill sympathized. It took a while before the implications had really hit him as well, “we should have found any number of new and dangerous microorganisms over there. I mean they sure got a far more diverse collection of higher life forms, so, that would only stand to reason.”

Garret injected, “so we put boots on the ground because we know that it’s safe enough from disease?”

“No,” Devon replied, “we have put boots on the ground because it shouldn’t be safe from disease.”