Crystal Clear (3 page)

She
took in the shadows under
Montgomery
’s eyes
. It seemed
her friend
hadn’t been able to put the memory behind her yet of the last
mission. She
wanted to rip Rivera’s throat out
, again
. 
Her fists clenched as s
he tried to push the thought away.  The last thing
Cindy
wanted to do was remind
Montgomery
of
their previous case
.

“Very funny Montgomery,” Cindy wasn’t laughing as her hands passed over an array of gear and thought about how she’d enjoyed interrogating Rivera.  The man was not easy to crack
--
until she made it clear he could just as easily disappear as end up in jail. Then he seemed to be much more cooperative.  She particularly enjoyed reminding him about the little fact that F.I.U.W. was not a government agency and therefore did not run on the same laws or rules other agencies had to abide by.  The fear in the man’s eyes made her smile inside. 

Rivera quickly told them about Jag and what their purpose was, he valued his own skin too much to withhold that kind of information.  He would sell out anyone if it meant saving himself. Probably even his mother. 

Cindy picked up
several items
Montgomery
thought she might need. 
H
er friend threw in another
GPS
System and
Cindy
laughed. 

“You know I already have one of those, right?  I believe they’re standard issue.”  She pulled the one off her belt and showed it to
Montgomery
.  Cindy was known for her bad directional sense.

“Yeah, but you can never be too careful.  It helps to have a backup.” 

Cindy conceded and let
Montgomery
throw in whatever she felt like without saying much else.  When they finished, the backpack
Montgomery
handed her weighed a ton.
Cindy shrugged and figured she could pare it down later.  There was no way sh
e would be able to tote all the
gear and be able to stand upright.  She could just see herself falling over a cliff because she couldn’t hold her balance.

They got to her room and
Montgomery
put a restraining hand on her arm, “wait a minute.” 
Montgomery
dug in the pocket of her cargo pants.  “Here you go.” She handed Cindy a handful of Ziploc bags.  “These are from Chase.  He says to make sure you keep your cell and gun dry on the river.  It wouldn’t hurt to throw that extra
GPS
in there as well in case your stuff gets soaked.”

“Does he always think of everything?”

“Pretty much, it’s all that boy scout training when we were young.  I couldn’t even get through the Brownies.”

“I never had anything like that, sounds like it was fun.  The closest I had was
Jackson
.”

Montgomery
gave off an understanding sigh, “Yeah.”
She knew about Cindy’s childhood and the man that raised her after her father was killed.

Cindy snapped to attention
when
she noticed Kevin Garrett coming down the hall towards them. 

“Looks like we are going to have company
..
.” 
Montgomery
stated as she looked at the broad-shouldered man approaching them
, her mouth spreading in a smile.
“Hey there.” 

He leaned down and gave
Montgomery
a quick kiss.
“Hey.”  Kevin Garrett was a model agent and someone all agents at F.I.U.W. tried to emulate. 

Cindy envied her friend’s relationship with
Garrett
.  She wished she could find someone half as wonderful.
 
Sometimes Cindy longed for male companionship, almost as much as she longed for field work, but she really wanted something more. 

She watched
Garrett
and
Montgomery
greet one another. 
Garrett
leaned close to
Montgomery
and said something in her ear.  Cindy could see the hair move on
Montgomery
’s
neck as
Garrett
talked.  She was genuinely happy for her friend.

“So, headed out on a solo mission?”
Garrett
asked as he focused his gaze on Cindy, “Big stuff Hawke.” 

Geez, does everyone know? 
Cindy thought, but then sh
e shouldn’t really be surprised. I
f
Montgomery
knew then Garrett would be in on it as well.  They didn’t keep secrets from each other.

“I’m ready. After all, I’ve been with the agency as long as
Montgomery
.” Cindy felt a bit defensive.  Garrett had a thing against females in the Agency doing dangerous missions without backup.  She could understand after what happened to
Montgomery
, but according to her friend, Garrett was
overprotective
before the incident
too
. 

Soon, Cindy said her goodbyes to them and headed back to her room to pack.  Tossing the contents of the ba
ckpack on the bed she
rifle
d
through them.  She grinned looking over the gadgets
Montgomery
threw in:
the extra
GPS
System, an extra cell, two .22 pistols
and
ammo to supply an army.  She took the handful of plastic bags Lucy had given her from her pocket and bag
ged up
items.  It wouldn’t do to be caught off guard. 

Cindy r
etriev
ed her flight maps when she got done with her pack. She
chart
ed
her course up to
Bend
,
Oregon
.  It
would
be a long flight.  Smiling as she opened up her nightstand drawer
,
Cindy took out
the
ten Snickers bars she hid there.

“At least I’ll have chocolate to keep me company.”  Laughing she tossed the candy bars onto her bed with the large pile of things to pack.  She pulled out her duffel for her clothes and got to work.

Jack Wilde grinned a
cross the table at his opponent.
The man’s intelligent eyes glinted
in the brilliant light of the chandelier g
lowing over the poker table.  Jack
looked at his hand again and quirked an eyebrow as he waited for the man seated across from him to call, raise or fold. 

The pot was up to five hundred dollars. 
They p
lay
ed
“Joker’s Wi
ld”,
his favorite game.  The cards always seemed to go his way with the exception of nights like tonight.  Despite his bluff, he wasn’t feeling it.  S
hifting in his seat he moved, restless. He
needed some solitude. 

Jack had been edgy
for the past six months, ever since his discharge from the Navy.  He tried to release the
need for action
with his job as a white water rafting guide, and volunteering at SAR, Search and Rescue.  The adrenalin rush of a rescue helped, but it wasn’t the same.  Anyone who had been in the Service could tell the difference.

“So Wilde, are you in or what?”   His friend asked as the play moved on. 

It was his turn and he hadn’t been paying much attention to the cards on the table.  He should probably call it a night. 

Patrick cleared his throat
obviously waiting
for Jack to make his move. 
Adam Patrick was
a good man.  They did just about everything toget
her.  Patrick got
Jack the rafting guide job after he ‘retired’ from the SEALS.  He currently worked as a reserve remote, though no one but his superiors and Patrick knew.  As a remote he could still heal, but be on call if they needed him in a situation.

Medical
leave,
that’s what they labeled it.  Jack rubbed his knee.  It still gave him grief.  He had Patella Femoral Syndrome, basically an overuse injury
which
caused his knee to go out when
used too much. N
othing like having your leg give-o
ut in the middle of a firefight;
it
had been less than a year and Jack remembered vividly the repercussions of his faulty knee.

His team
had been
on special assignment… 

They went to extract the daughter of a well known diplomat who had been taken hostage in
Iraq
by a militant group.  It was a night drop, which put them in their element. Things seemed to be going along fine. They retrieved the girl
from her upstairs room
without a sound and
made
their way to the extraction point. The team mov
ed
quickly and silently until they headed down the stairs at the complex where the girl was being kept. 

His knee gave out and he tumbled down several steps.  The noise gave them away and the guard on duty had just enough time to radio thru a warning to the hostiles as his team tried to make their escape. 

Trapped at the side entrance exiting the building shouts of alarm sounded as they grabbed the girl and dragged her back inside.  Lt. Jamison went down in the front, one of his team grabbed the Lt. and dragged him inside as well, but it was to
o
late…
 

They
'd
acquired their target, but lost a great friend.  Jack swore never to let that happen again.  He went to the medic and informed them about what occurred.  They told him that he would have to have surgery and would be unable to work for some time while he
recuperated
in physical therapy.  He would be a liability to his team, and they couldn’t chance it.

When Jack returned home to
Bend
he
stayed
depressed, but determined to overcome his disability.  He had been a member of Team 6, the top dogs, and once a SEAL, always a SEAL.  It was hard to let go.

A hand landed on his back.
“Jack, hey man, get with it.  It’s your turn.” 

Jack looked up from his cards. 

The dealer look
ed
at him expectantly.  His opponent raised the pot again and Jake sighed. 

“I fold.”  He laid his cards facedown on the table. “Good game guys, but I’m afraid the cards just aren’t with me tonight.”  He shrugged and stood to go.  As he prepared to leave he placed a hand on Patrick’s shoulder.  “I’m going into the woods for a few days if you need me
I’ll be
at the old cabin.  Later.”

Patrick smiled at him.
“Later.  You watch yourself out there.” 

Jack laughed and turned from the table.  The only thing Jack had to worry about out at the old cabin was the wild animals, and even they seemed to stay away as though sensing another predator in their midst.

Sauntering out of the casino Jack reached his pickup in no time at all.  The Search and Rescue logo decal
faded
on the door and the radio inside
was
for mission communication.

Patrick was a godsend.  They’
d been Eagle Scouts together growing up.  A few months after Jack’s surgery, Patrick suggested a camping trip in the mountains. 
At least, Jack thought it was just camping.
Patrick had something else in mind.
 

They headed out on their trip, got to the area and Patrick started pulling out the rescue gear.  Jack looked at his friend as he continued to pull out things Jack knew were not part of normal camping trip equipment.

“I thought we were going to camp.”

“We are,” Patrick said, “but in the meantime I thought we could look for the hikers that got lost out here two days ago.”  He smiled at Jack and passed him the climbing gear.  Jack, knowing his friend wouldn’t let up, laughed and took the gear from Patrick
. 

After that rescue,
Jack had been on sixteen m
issions, all successful.  A
good track record
, it
gave Jack something constructive to do.  Jack also kept a
TAC
phone in his cabin, and worked as a reserve remote, but only until he completely healed.  Jack intended to return to his unit, or find another way to serve his country.  It had been almost six months since the surgery, and he
was
restless.