Operation Assassination Read online

  Operation Assassination

  Book 2 of The Unit series

  Anne Fox

  OPERATION ASSASSINATION

  Book 2 of The Unit Series

  COPYRIGHT © 2019 ANNE FOX

  FIRST EDITION 2019

  PRINTED IN THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA

  10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1

  ISBN 978-1-950389-04-9

  COVER DESIGN BY MOMIR BOROCKI

  COVER IMAGE: SHUTTERSTOCK

  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. NO PART OF THIS BOOK MAY BE REPRODUCED BY ANY MECHANICAL, PHOTOGRAPHIC, OR ELECTRONIC PROCESS OTHER THAN FOR “FAIR USE” AS DEFINED BY LAW, WITHOUT THE PRIOR WRITTEN PERMISSION OF THE AUTHOR. THIS IS A WORK OF FICTION. NAMES, CHARACTERS, BUSINESSES, PLACES, EVENTS, LOCALES, AND INCIDENTS ARE EITHER THE PRODUCTS OF THE AUTHOR’S IMAGINATION OR USED IN A FICTITIOUS MANNER. ANY RESEMBLANCE TO ACTUAL PERSONS, LIVING OR DEAD, OR ACTUAL EVENTS, IS PURELY COINCIDENTAL.

  Created with Vellum

  For Larry W.,

  You devoted yourself to fidelity, integrity, and bravery, and demonstrated the meanings well. We’ve laughed and we’ve cried together. Never forget that for every moment in the present, there is a past you cannot change but only accept, and a future that is yours for the making. Make all the happiness you can, and know that I’ll share some of mine with you if you feel clouds closing in. You know how to reach me.

  And I promise: I’ll stay off the chandelier.

  Contents

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  About the Author

  Prologue

  Operation Assassination is the second book in The Unit series. It is highly recommended that you read the first book, Camp Chaos prior to reading this book, as many of the items discussed in this and future books in The Unit series will build upon the prior ones.

  1

  The unit personnel were all gathered in the cafeteria, a meeting having been called to assess future needs in view of the last completed mission. Such after action meetings were routine for the unit, and essential to keeping the unit functioning at peak performance, given the difficulty of their missions. Every aspect of the past mission was being discussed, and every success or failure evaluated to determine how failures could be avoided and successes made more efficient. The entire unit’s personnel were present to discuss their observations of what worked and what didn’t during the latest mission.

  “I have a proposal,” Hank said.

  “Hank is recognized,” said Doc Rich, presiding over the meeting.

  “I propose that we move our headquarters to the former Camp Chaos complex in Nebraska. The complex has far more space than we have here at Quantico, is more centrally located, and is more remote than Quantico – meaning we wouldn’t have to be as secretive about our comings and goings. There’s a nearby airport at York, and military capability at Lincoln to support our air operations. There are a number of small communities in the area that could easily accommodate all of the unit’s personnel, and I even know of a good architect with a construction outfit who can modify the location to meet our specific needs. Our own Lockridge facility is nearby and already operating as a working farm. We could simply ask Gilbert Pizzo, our guy at Lockridge, if he’d like to work on a dairy farm.”

  “What kind of budget do you think we’d need for that?” Spud asked.

  “My expertise is firearms, not accounting. But I’m sure we could get some estimates on that for submitting the proposal.”

  “What do we do with our building here?” Edge asked.

  “Keep it. It’s a given that we’ll have east coast assignments, so we’ll still need a remote base of operations in this area.”

  “How much space does the Camp Chaos complex have?” Doc Rich asked.

  “Between the old missile silo structures and the additional structures that were built, there’s five acres of footprint,” Edge said. “And many of the underground structures have multiple floors.”

  Some of the unit personnel whistled. “That’s a lot of space,” someone remarked.

  “Exactly,” Hank said. “Plenty of space for our medical facilities, warehousing, living quarters – you name it. Plus, we would even have the ability to provide some things for relatively little cost that we now have to purchase. Namely, food. The area is already a working dairy farm and has a milking barn. We could add some beef cattle and other animals, and have Gil plant some of the fields in produce. Which should make you happy, Doc Rich, as you could directly see the farming methods.”

  “How many acres of farm land are we talking about?”

  “The camp has a square mile. That’s six hundred and forty acres.”

  “It all sounds intriguing.”

  “We’d also be only a little over three hours’ flight via our Citation Latitudes to anywhere in the United States, with the exception of Alaska and Hawaii,” Crow noted. “About the only objection I could see from an air operations standpoint is that the only runway at York is roughly north-south. We could use an east-west runway for when winds shift.”

  “We might want to investigate how much would be needed to build a second runway,” Doc Rich said. “I’m sure a community of that size would welcome the additional resources. Who operates the airport?”

  “The City of York,” Crow replied.

  “And how big is the City of York?”

  “About eight thousand souls.”

  “The airport is only a twenty-minute drive from the Camp Chaos facility as well,” Voice observed. “No more time than it takes us to get from the Marine Corps Air Station to the BEQ here.”

  “Of course, this means that everyone who is here would have to relocate,” Spud said. “It will obviously be a big change from where we are now. The nearest large city is Lincoln, and after that, Omaha. To get to any place of any size is about a four-hour drive to Kansas City. That’s something you’d have to take into consideration if you like going out on the town.”

  “What would we do with the Lockridge facility?” Cloud asked.

  “There are several options,” Hank replied. “One would be to get the same architect and construction crew to convert it into a luxury home and sell it. Another would be to convert it into luxury condominiums and do the same. Yet a third would be to convert it into a unique hotel, perhaps associated with a resort of some kind, and keep it to generate income to offset our own construction and operation costs. It’s pretty conveniently located – not far off I-80. And being underground, it’s already easy to keep heated and cooled. If left with only the water pumps running to keep it dry, it maintains about fifty-five degrees Fahrenheit year-round.”

  “I can see this is going to be a major undertaking and take some time to accomplish,” Doc Rich said. “Whether it’s feasible will have to be determined, as will costs. But with the success of the Camp Chaos mission, now is the time to make the request if that’s what we want to do. So, in the manner we always make votes that affect all personnel, each of you has a black marble and a white one. We’ll pass around the can and everyone can place either a white marble for ‘aye’ or a black one for ‘nay’ in the can.”

  The can in question, really just a one-pound coffee can with a small hole cut in the plastic lid, went around the room with each person shielding the hole as t
hey dropped their marble inside. “For all the high-tech stuff this unit has,” Crow observed, “we still make important decisions with a coffee can and some marbles” The gathered personnel all chuckled as the can continued around the room.

  Making its way back to Doc Rich, she pulled the lid from the can and looked inside. “I wouldn’t have expected this,” she began, “but we have a unanimous decision to relocated to the Camp Chaos complex.”

  “Maybe some of us would prefer seclusion to having our hair cut and dressing in cammies all the time,” Janet, one of the unit’s nurses, said.

  “Don’t you like your short hair, Love?” Spud asked Hank.

  “Actually, I kind-of do,” she said. “It’s easy to take care of, and it doesn’t get in my face when I’m shooting. You won’t mind if I leave it short, will you?”

  “Not at all,” Spud said. “It looks good on you. Cute.”

  The rest of the unit’s personnel all laughed. Hank wasn’t exactly known for being cute as she was for eating – a fact not betrayed by her slight frame, and cursing. With martial arts training gained prior to her acceptance as a unit operative and knife handling taught to her by Edge, the team’s hand-to-hand combat expert, she was also known to be a formidable person to be reckoned with. It was well-known to unit members that she carried two teeth in a small medicine pouch around her neck that she had personally knocked out of the mouth of a man who had once tried to rape her.

  “This little interaction,” Voice said, pointing at Spud and Hank, “reminds me that I’d like the unit to consider a change to one of our rules.”

  “Voice is recognized,” Doc Rich said.

  “I propose that we eliminate Paragraph Five of the rule entitled ‘Prohibition Against Fraternization.’ For those not familiar, that paragraph reads, ‘The spousal unit will agree to refrain from manifestations of affection while in the presence of other unit members.’”

  “You believe that eliminating that paragraph is wise?” Doc Andy asked.

  “You know, Doc Andy,” Voice began, “those of us in the Field Team live down here, underground. Everyone in the team, and for that matter, the entire unit are our family. But up until we changed the fraternization rule to allow Hank and Spud to, basically, get married, we all lived a pretty sterile life. Those of us in the Field Team can’t get into relationships with anyone outside the unit, and it’s impractical for us to even have a relationship with someone in the support team. Living like moles doesn’t exactly make for a situation lacking in stress, unless you’re another one of the moles.

  “So, we have two people who fell in love, and it’s been a shot in the arm for the rest of us. It reminds of us who we’ve made our sacrifices for: people who love each other and who don’t deserve a world of hatreds and tragedies around them. Good American people. Spud and Hank are mature enough to not let things go too far in public, and I trust that any similar situation the unit comes across in the future will be no different simply because of the caliber of people the unit employs. It won’t bother me one iota if they want to hug and kiss each other around me. At the risk of sounding like a softie, that kind-a warms my heart a bit.

  “Besides, every single person in here ignores that rule. If Spud gives Hank a kiss, we all just let it happen and then pretend that there was something bad in the food and it’s made us go temporarily blind.”

  The entire room erupted in laughter, remembering the day Spud proposed to Hank prior to their Marine Corps wedding when that was the excuse.

  Doc Rich was smiling. “Do we need to pass around the can again, or can we make this rule change by acclamation? Those in favor of vote by acclamation, raise your hand.”

  A forest of raised hands appeared in the room.

  “Acclamation it is. All in favor?”

  “Aye,” came the overwhelming response.

  “Any opposed?”

  Silence.

  “Paragraph Five of the rule prohibiting fraternization is eliminated,” Doc Rich intoned.

  Spud leaned over and kissed Hank.

  “And that was predictable,” Doc Rich said to the laughter of the gathered unit personnel. “If there is no other business?”

  Again, silence greeted her question.

  “Very well. I’ll remind all unit personnel to check your schedules as semi-annual physical and psychological assessments are once again upon us. Please be sure to be your usual punctual selves, as those of us in Medical have all nineteen unit members to assess, which includes those of us on the medical team as well. Those of you who are scheduled for tomorrow, please remember to change into your PT shirts and shorts prior to arriving in Medical.

  “Have a good evening, everyone.”

  The Field Team members sat in the library, lamenting that one of the first items on the agenda that day for their physical evaluations would be routine bloodwork, meaning they were prohibited from consuming anything other than water. Not wanting the smell of food in the cafeteria to have them craving a full stomach until after blood was drawn, they had opted to convene as far as practical away from the cafeteria while still being in proximity to the lab. Even though the day would be consumed with medical and psychological procedures, they availed themselves of the opportunity to either read or pull information from the unit’s mainframe computers.

  “Are you still reading that essay?” Cloud asked Hank, noting the copy of Henry David Thoreau’s “Resistance to Civil Government” in her hands.

  “Not ‘still.’ Again.” She flipped to a portion of the text. “Here he says that government loses its integrity with each attempt to pass itself on to posterity. This is the kind of thought that prompts a man like Roger Sesogo to expend his wealth on the creation of fear in an attempt to gain power.”

  “Landed him in jail, though,” Voice observed.

  Amigo walked into the library. “Bled me dry... again. James is waiting for you, Cloud.”

  “At least I get to eat soon.”

  “And I wish my name was ‘Ank,’” Hank remarked.

  “I get to eat before Hank gets there and wipes the cafeteria out, too,” Cloud said, disappearing out the door and getting the other team members chuckling.

  “Are you thinking our next mission will be similar to this one?” Edge asked.

  “No idea. But one thing we don’t have in our group of merry team members is a profiler,” Hank said. “If we’re to have any idea of how the next perp or perps might be thinking, and therefore have a means of narrowing them down, then I figure reading everything I can get my hands on is going to be the ticket.” She settled back into reading the essay.

  “Next,” Cloud said, coming back in the room.

  “Guess that means me,” Crew said, getting up and making his way out the door.

  “The one saving grace of having to go through this crap every six months is that at least they skip the damned bowel prep and only do that once every five years,” Cloud remarked.

  “If they had told me I was going to have to go through that again so soon after having had it done, I’d have given them my letter of resignation,” Amigo remarked.

  “I keep telling you guys: wait ‘til they decide you’ve got to have a camera up your ass,” Spud remarked.

  “I guess there’s no dignity in being the grand old man of this outfit, eh, Spud?” Cloud chuckled.

  “I just wish I knew why Janet always gives me a funny look when she sees me. She’s done that ever since I had the camera-up-the-butt routine,” Spud said.

  “I’m not looking forward to that one myself,” Edge said.

  “That’s right. You turn forty next year,” Cloud remarked.

  “Rub it in. But with Spud getting funny looks, I’m tempted to tell them not to give me that drug that makes you forget.”

  “The way Janet looks at me, I think maybe you’ll want to forget,” Spud said.

  “You’re up, Edge,” Crow said, coming back into the room. “Try not to pass out this time.”

  “Oh, fuck you,” Edge said
to the snickers of the other team members.

  “It’s the big, bad Krav Maga guy who passes out all the time,” Voice explained to Amigo.

  Amigo chuckled. “So I’ve heard.”

  “You know, Amigo, you could go eat.”

  “I could. But I figure we can all commiserate together.”

  Edge walked back into the room. “You’re up, Hank.”

  “You’re back quick. I gather you didn’t end up on the floor this time?” Voice asked.

  “Nope.”

  Hank stood up, and walking over to Edge, quietly remarked, “Told you it would work.”

  Walking over to the lab, she had to smile a bit. Being poked by needles never seemed to bother her, and the last time she had had blood work done was, for her, a non-event. James was waiting for her just inside the door. Handing her two plastic cups and a couple of sterile wipes, he said, “You know where, you know what, and you hopefully still know how.”

  Hank sighed. “The least you could do is get some magazines in there that would give a woman some motivation.”

  James laughed. “What the men need the motivation for is nothing relevant to you.”

  “Just a waste of a good orgasm if you ask me.”

  James laughed again. “Only you and Spud would consider that a problem.”

  Hank sighed and walked off to the restroom. One of these will be easy enough, but shitting on demand is not something this butt of mine is ever up for. Sigh.

  Having accomplished the task, she walked back, handed James the two samples, and sat down in the room where blood would be drawn.