1322 North Folk Road
Sherman Housing Area
Fort Bragg
North Carolina, United States of America
19 December, 1989, Monday
0100 Hours

Cromwell, Heather, Sergeant, US Army - Active

The Sergeant Major stood in front of the MP Colonel, menace and rage rolling off him in a palpable cloud.

"They came into my house, Colonel, where my wife and my children are," the Sergeant Major snarled. "You think you're arresting anyone, arresting my wife, for defending our home, then you're going to have to come through me."

The Colonel swallowed, staring up at the Sergeant Major.

The bodies all had no ID, no identifying marks or scars, all were armed with silenced .38 semi-automatic pistols with suppressors fitted and drilled holes to reduce the sound of the gunshot as far as possible.

A professional team.

"This was a termination team, Colonel," the Sergeant Major snarled. "They tried to kill my son at the hospital. Tried to smother him, stabbed him, shot him, he had to run here on foot with a blown out knee to warn us. Now you're talking about arresting anyone who fired a weapon?"

The Colonel nodded, but he swallowed like he was trying to get down an orange.

"Not a chance," Tiernan snarled.

"Sergeant Major, the area is clear," A Captain said from the kitchen. "I've got men watching, but they want you back at Operations ASAP."

The Sergeant Major shook his head. "Not until the Colonel here agrees that he's not going to try to put my son in a cage the minute I turn around."

"Take Actual with you," I said suddenly. I wasn't even aware I was going to talk and I was slightly shocked that I'd even spoken. "The Colonel can agree to release Actual to your supervision."

The Colonel looked at me, gratitude obvious on his face. "Well, Sergeant Major, your wife would have to stay here with the children while CID takes the evidence. I could release the men and women of Actual to your recognizance."

The Sergeant Major nodded at that, obviously thinking.

There was a knock on the wall beside the open door and when I looked there was a three star general standing there flanked by a one-star and a Colonel.

"Colonel Lafferty, you and your men may leave" The general said, stepping into the room. "I'm General Montgomery, JSOC, this is General Hammond, SOG, and Colonel Wichita, Defense Intelligence Agency," he waved his hand and a small, slight woman stepped up. Black hair in a Beatles cut, dark eyes, pixie-features, a black suit with a ChemCorps insignia pin where most agents wore an American flag pin. "Miss Smith."

I saw Tony's hand flex and the muscles along the side of his jaw ripple. There was bad blood between him and the agencies. All of them. The sight of the Blackbriar Girl made my blood run cold.

Colonel Wichita stepped forward. "This investigation is now under the auspices of the Defense Intelligence Agency. At this time there are concerns that are not to be shared with the MP's or CID of Fort Bragg."

General Montgomery waved at the Stillwater Patron. "Sergeant Major Stillwater, gather up your soldiers, planning cannot be suspended, and there are critical operational discussion is on hold while you are attending to this domestic matter."

"I am here to ensure that Echo-Five-Actual is properly briefed, geared, and readied for deployment," "Miss Smith" added, stepping forward. "Captain Dawson, if you will get your troops ready, I have two cars waiting to provide transport. We'll start with basic gear and move on."

"We have our TA-50," Stillwater snarled.

She simply nodded, her eyes and face unreadable. "Mission essential gear."

"We'll need briefed to know what we need," Stillwater was still being aggressive. He took a step forward and I saw his knee buckle. He recovered, but I'd seen it.

"Boy, now is not the time," The Sergeant Major said, turning from the conversation he was having with the General.

Stillwater shut up.

"Lane, collect up everyone's gear. Foster, you help her," Dawson said, quickly falling into her role as CO. "Everyone else, change into BDU's," She turned to Tony. "Not you."

"I ain't staying here," Tony snarled at her. "I'm not painting a target on my Momma and my sisters again."

Dawson opened her mouth then shut it when Tabitha stepped up, putting her hand on Tony's shoulder.

"Tony, please, just stay here with us. You're hurt really bad," She said.

He turned to her. "Tabitha, if I stay, whoever sent these guys may send more. You want Amy or Lisa to get turned into hamburger? Get shot? Honey, I've gotta go."

Tabitha frowned, then suddenly hugged him. I saw him clench his jaw in pain, but he hugged her back.

"I love you, Tony. Please, be careful, I can't stand to lose another brother," Tabitha said, her voice thick with unshed tears.

"I'll try, Tabby," He said. Tabitha let him go and hurried away, practically running up the stairs. He looked at me and shrugged.

"Tony, you'll need this," Stokes said, stepping up. She was holding his eyepatch in her hand.

"Thanks, Amazon," Tony said, taking the eyepatch. He pulled off the gauze and saw a weird tension hit him. He pulled the string for the eyepatch over his head and shifted it in place. The tension drained out of his body.

Aine and Foster started coming down the stairs, carrying TA-50, rucksacks. Everyone moved over to the gear, me included.

We unpacked out rucks first, pulling out anything not needed for rapid deployment. I put my two packages of candy to the side. Those would go in my ruck, for trade to any locals we might run into. A handful of candy could go a long way toward bribing a few kids or even adults to give me information.

We repacked quickly. Years of repetition making it so we knew what to pack where and how. Roll up socks, put them with a dryer sheet in the offered Zip-Lock bags. Same with panties and bras for the women. Brown t-shirts got the same treatment. Roll the BDU's, put rubber bands around them. Momma Stillwater gave us wax paper, something I'd never thought of, and we wrapped the uniforms in that.

While we were packing the Sergeant Major left with the Generals and that pack of hooligans he'd brought in with him. All of us pretended not to notice the way he kissed her cheek and she touched his face, her eyes soft and vulnerable as he looked at his face for what might be the last time as far as she knew.

It only took half an hour to completely pack and be read to roll out. No duffles, just rucks, TA-50, and Kevlar helmet and vests. Half of us had radiation and chemical detection gear, I had my field surgery bag, my medical kit, and my NBC treatment pack. Stokes and Nagle were both carrying more Field Surgery.

I frowned at Stillwater as he stood there, his leg in the brace, helmet hanging off his canteen, a boonie hat on his head.

The Blackbriar Girl walked up and down us, looking closely. She nodded that we were geared up, ready for almost anything we could foresee. We had double rations smashed into our rucks. Mainly conserving space by slitting an air gash into the MRE bag and pressing all the air out of the bag. Double canteen, an extra one on the side of the ruck. I knew a couple of us had double-shelter-half packs, just in case. We needed to be ready for anything.

"Vehicle are outside," She said, motioning. There was no expression, no emotion, no inflection in her voice, like a poorly programmed computer.

"Do your best," Momma Stillwater murmured to each of us as we left. She touched our face and stared at us for moment.

Even the Blackbriar Girl, who colored slightly and ducked her head for a second.

It was rainy, cold, as we walked out into the night. We split up, into different cars, riding silently. I expected us to head to one of the Special Forces units or maybe even JSOC operations, but instead we headed to a building with no markers on it.

Two MP's stood at the doors, watching as we pulled up.

We got out and the Blackbriar Girl led us up the stairs. She stopped in front of the MP's, waiting a moment. They both had the hot-shit new MP-5's that it seemed like every agency was outfitting their men with, including the SEALs and half of SOG. One of them turned, unlocked the door, and opened it.

We followed the Blackbriar Girl in and the sound of the tumblers in the locking door behind us sounded like thunder.

There were no pictures on the walls. I could see the blank spots where they had been taken down. The brass labels on the doors were missing and where stenciled letters had been used there was masking tape over them.

Someone didn't want us to know who's building we were in.

The Blackbriar Girl led us into a conference room. Inside were four men in BDU's. No patches, no name, no awards, just US ARMY above their hearts. All four were hard looking men, older, mid-30's I guessed. They were under arms, an M9 in a pistol rig. There was a slide projector on the table and one of them was standing next to the screen with a pointer.

"Be seated," One of them said. We looked at the Blackbriar Girl, who nodded.

Chairs squeaked and equipment rustled as we sat down in the cushioned and padded roller chairs. These were for staffers, people of higher rank than we could ever hope to reach. I leaned back, pulled my green notebook and Skilcraft pen out, and waited.

One of the guys in BDU's clicked off most of the lights and I took my sunglasses off right before the one that sat down opposite of us picked up the clicker and turned on the slide projector.

The screen lit with the picture of a bunker door. It wasn't painted standard OD green, but rather camouflage pattern. There was bushes and shrubs around it, and it had a standard heavy duty lock like we used on the bunkers with a chain pulley.

"This is what is commonly referred to as a Delta Bunker," The one next to it said.

I saw Stillwater slump in his chair and shake his head.

"Problem, Mister... uh..." the one behind him said.

"None of your business," the Blackbriar Girl said. She looked at Stillwater. "What is your issue, trooper?"

"These people bringing up a Delta Bunker means that a nation has gone unstable. Because you're involving us, it contains either nuclear demolition mines or chemical weapons. Based on the camouflage pattern it's in a jungle, which means that it contains nuclear land mines and it's in Panama," Stillwater said, his voice a low rasping growl. "Which means that you've lost control of the country and the nuclear demolition devices that were slated to blow the Panama Canal so the Soviet Union couldn't gain control of the Canal are in danger of being seized by enemy forces."

He shrugged. "Which means: Nice job, suckass, you done fucked it up."

"Watch your..." one of the guys said.

"Silence," The Blackbriar Girl snapped. "He is correct, and that is all I care about. Do no bother with blathering on about the contents and wasting everyone's time. Move forward to location and mission, please."

The one with the clicker just shrugged, fast forwarding until the schematics popped up.

"This is a heavy atomic demolition mine," He started.

"Skip this part," the Blackbriar Girl stated, "They've been inspecting those, rebuilding those, and refurbishing those for years."

The man looked at her and she just stared back. "You are here to facilitate this briefing. Either carry on with it or leave," her voice was dead and cold.

He sighed and moved on until a map of Panama popped up.

"There are eight Delta Bunkers in Panama armed with nuclear demolition charges. Six are already in possession of assets currently in the country and have disarmed the charges and secured the weaponized core," he stated. "That leaves two of them. These two have JSOC teams nearby. However, something has come up."

"It always does," Bomber grumbled.

The guy frowned but continued. "Another bunker is nearby according to our records. We don't know what is in it, but this one in particular has no JSOC team near it and only recently popped up on our records as needing to be disarmed."

"And you don't know where it is," Stillwater interrupted.

The guy with the pointer frowned. "What makes you say that?"

He laughed and John joined him. "Because the eighth one isn't a Delta Bunker," he growled.

He frowned. "You seem to be familiar with it."

John laughed. "We damn well should be."

"Why's that?" Another one asked.

"Because they're the ones who stocked it," the Blackbriar Girl said.