Seeds of the Bitter Harvest. John Sheppard

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СКАЧАТЬ to the spot on the map; it was within Enemy held territory. There his team would meet up with members of the underground, and be assisted in getting into the capital.

      It was a bit overwhelming to Jeremy. He thought of a thousand questions at once. He would need to choose a team. If he didn’t return from the mission, what about his family? How were he and his team to get back from the Capital? The General hadn’t mentioned that.

      Interrupting Jeremy’s thoughts, Ashton went on to say, speaking more to himself than Jeremy, “There’s a great deal to be considered before we attempt retaking the capital. Our overall troop strength is inadequate to hold it if the Enemy should launch another attack. Dividing our men between the Capital and the Port City might leave us without enough manpower to defend either city. Yet, we know those trapped in the Capital are suffering unspeakable things.”

      With that, the General placed his hand on the map right where the Capital of their homeland was indicated. It was as if he was wanting with the placement of his hand to protect the people in that place.

      “You are to speak of this to no one, Trent, not even those you select for your team. A duty roster will appear at your desk in two days, delivered by my lieutenant. Randomly line through three names on the roster, and write in the names of the men you’ve selected. Leave the roster in your ‘Out’ basket. We’ll do the rest. You and your team will be brought to the Ammo Dump within a few days, and will stay here until it’s time for your mission to start. I have direct command of the Dump, and have personally selected every man assigned to this unit.”

      Smart move thought Jeremy; the Ammo Dump is a way from the main base, what goes on here cannot be easily monitored.

      The two men talked a little longer. Even in that conversation, the General divulged almost nothing concerning the details of the mission. As if on cue, Jeremy heard a jeep pull up outside the building. Ashton gave him a firm hand shake, and wished him well. The two men exchanged salutes, then the general turned an exited the rear door.

      Jeremy turned off the light, and left the way he had come in. The jeep and same driver were waiting for him. They took another winding route through the base. The driver stopped behind the O Club, and handed him a tin flask.

      “Spill some of this on yourself, enter through the backdoor of the kitchen, and go into the club, Sir. The Lieutenant will rejoin you there; stay awhile, act like you’ve had a little too much, then he’ll get you back to your quarters.”

      CHAPTER 4

      Ramos Chavez worked his way up the rickety wooden outside staircase to his second floor apartment. Even though he wasn’t a heavy man, the stairs groaned in protest of his weight. His lodging was in the seediest part of the Port City.

      His ‘home’ was part of a small series of apartments built into the second floor of a warehouse, which he guessed the building dated all the way to the 1930’s or maybe 1940’s. These apartments could only be publicly accessed through the staircase, which faced a back alley.

      He remained ‘in character’, even though by the end of his shift at KML, he was bone tired. Maintaining his fitness had gotten him through the long nights at KML, and his job as an undercover agent. In a few minutes he would shower, shave, and start his real job.

      Once inside this shabby apartment, with the doors locked, and the blinds closed, his transformation could begin. Working second, sometimes third shift afforded him a reasonable explanation for keeping his ratty looking blinds closed. After all, a guy has to sleep. Yeah, right, like that happens, he mused. Sleep, what’s that?

      The transformation began with removing the thick black wig. Ah, that’s feels so good. The agency had gotten him the highest possible quality wig; but it still felt hot, and itched. Ramos preferred his head naked. He had started experiencing hair loss in his early thirties and decided, back then to keep his head shaved; after all, it enhanced his ‘Mr. Tough Guy’ image.

      Next off came the eye patch. While he could see through it, another high quality agency item - to those looking at it was a solid piece of material. Off too came the contact lens, which made it look like he had the beginnings of a cataract in one eye. Then there was the fake dental work, and the shoe designed to make him limp a little.

      All of these items were carefully accounted for, and stored in a case. Taking the inventory of these pieces was important, so he wouldn’t be seen in public wearing only part of his disguise. Such an error could blow is cover, jeopardize the mission, and maybe cost some lives.

      The case was then hidden in a false bottom of a cabinet in his tiny galley kitchen. The entire warehouse complex was wired with surveillance cameras, which kept him and this operation safe, but he was still careful.

      As Ramos showered, he thought back on what got him here. His real name was Jose’ Chavez, but he had been undercover so long, his past had almost dissolved into his present. Born into a legal immigrant family, in El Paso, Texas, he and his parents often traveled across the border, just a few miles away to Juarez, Mexico, to see extended family.

      His parents had received their advanced degrees in the USA, and became citizens. They were a model immigrant success story. They arrived in the country poor; they got their education, and with hard work and determination made something of themselves. Their retail business thrived. They were wealthy and respected both among the Hispanic and Anglos. In his junior year of college his parents had died in a fiery highway car crash, just outside El Paso.

      It had been hard on Jose’ to deal with his parents death, but the extended family in Juarez reached out to him, and encouraged him to complete his degree in law enforcement. From there, he was recruited by the FBI and had started to make a name for himself within the agency. Tough, intelligent, hardworking, streetwise, were all adjectives used by his colleagues when speaking about him.

      The FBI had decided to station Jose’ back in his hometown of El Paso. His fluent Spanish and natural knowledge of Hispanic culture made his an invaluable asset to the El Paso office as they fought the flow of drugs across the border.

      He had planned to attend his nephew’s First Communion party in Juarez that afternoon on that fateful day fourteen years earlier. There had been unforeseen overtime that weekend, followed by an equally unexpected delay at the border crossing.

      Jose’s uncle had gotten in on the ground floor of the auto industry expansion into Juarez after NAFTA had passed. His uncle was doing quite well, but feared the ongoing drug violence. It was not unusual for middle and upper-class parents to send their children to El Paso for a better education. Many of the family members were having their children cross the border daily. Maybe, his uncle said, it was time to leave Mexico.

      As Jose’ traveled to the party, a drug cartel had mistaken his uncle’s family for family members of a rival cartel. Tragically, everyone at the party died in a hail of gunfire; including Jose’ cousin, Ramon.

      In the chaos which followed, the Juarez news media incorrectly reported that Jose’ had been killed. Some quick thinking senior agent at the FBI saw this as a cover for Jose’ to assume his cousin’s identity and go underground. There was a moving public memorial service held for agent Jose’ Chavez, while his only surviving ‘cousin’ Ramon ‘recovered’ in an undisclosed US hospital, ‘for his protection from the cartel’.

      So, Jose’ became Ramon, and was swept into this operation. Several international law enforcement agencies had targeted KML for its mob/cartel money laundering and numerous other illegal activities. They set up a dummy custodial-security company called Global Ashcott L. L. C. ; often referred to within the company as just GA. On the СКАЧАТЬ