'Is this some kind of joke?' Lt. Colonel John Rustman interrupted.
Simon Whatley blinked and shook his head in confusion. 'I'm sorry, I…'
'The people you're describing sound like they need to be put out to pasture while they can still stagger up to the podium to pick up their retirement checks. If this is the team of agents you're hiring us to deal with, your client's wasting his money. From what you're saying, he could probably handle the job himself, or hire a couple of muggers out of New York to do the job a whole lot cheaper.'
'I understand your skepticism,' Simon Whatley conceded, 'but keep in mind that not too long ago these same agents successfully took on a team of fifteen European counterterrorist experts, as well as a professional assassin with an international reputation. They sustained losses, certainly, but they also succeeded — which, as I'm sure you understand all too well, is precisely what concerns our client.
'And then, too,' Whatley continued, observing the skeptical look on Rustman's face, 'there's one other individual I haven't mentioned yet. An agent named Lightstone who, among other things, is quite proficient in tactics, martial arts, and firearms.'
'Lightstone? What's that, an Indian name?'
'I have no idea,' the senior congressional staffer admitted, 'but I can tell you that at least two of his supervisors have described him as a loner and a 'wild card' — whatever that means.'
'It means he's unpredictable, difficult to supervise, and not a team player,' Rustman explained. 'From a military point of view, that can be good or bad, depending on the operation, but it's usually bad. What's his background?'
'Uh, as I recall, he was a police officer in San Diego before joining the federal government.'
'What rank?'
'I believe he was a detective in homicide.'
'No military background?'
'No. None of these agents has any military experience.'
'Then you can tell your client to stop worrying.' Rustman smiled calmly. 'I'm providing you with First Sergeant Aran Wintersole and a military recon hunter-killer team, one of the most highly trained and lethal units in the US military. Any one of them could easily handle this mission by himself without working up a sweat. As a team, they simply aren't stoppable by anything less than a similarly trained and equipped hunter-killer team… although given their tactical advantage of surprise and terrain, I personally wouldn't use anything less than a full Ranger company with air support to hunt them down.
'In other words,' the military officer concluded casually, 'you can assure your client that those five agents don't stand a chance.'
'Actually, we may be talking about six,' Whatley added tentatively.
'Oh?'
'As I understand it, an additional agent may be assigned to the team in the very near future.'
'Any particular reason?'
'A normal Fish and Wildlife Service Special Operations team consists of four Special Agents, one technical agent, and one or two supervising agents,' Whatley explained, 'which means Bravo Team is currently short at least one Special Agent. The most likely candidate to fill that slot is a female agent named Natasha Marashenko.'
'Russian?'
'In a manner of speaking. Her parents immigrated from Kazakhstan when she was a small child. She received high marks in Criminal Investigator School and Special Agent basic classes. She's a relatively new agent, and normally wouldn't be assigned to a covert operations team until she had several more years of experience. However, I'm told that she asked for and was given an assignment to Special Operations because of her high marks, and the fact that the Fish and Wildlife Service has relatively few female agents in their Law Enforcement program.
'That being the case,' the congressional district office manager continued, 'we suspect that Special Agent Marashenko could add a very interesting dimension to our project.'
'How so?'
'My client has no personal interest in this particular agent, and certainly no desire to see her harmed. However, we do think she would make an excellent subject for the distraction scenario we discussed earlier.'
Lt. Colonel John Rustman thought about that for a few moments.
'You don't think they'd sacrifice her?'
'Would you in their position?'
Rustman's eyes took on a distant look. Then he pressed his lips together in a thin smile. 'No. In their position, I suppose I wouldn't. Is there anything you can do to encourage her selection?'
'We're trying, but we have to be careful. The last thing we want to do right now is create suspicion or, worse, a link that can be tracked back to the congressman's office.'
'That would be an extremely unfortunate situation, for everyone concerned.' The malice in Rustman's voice sent a chill up Simon Whatley's spine.
'Yes, of course. Uh, now then,' the congressional district office manager went on hurriedly, 'there's just a couple more things you need to know. First of all, we want to get an informant situated in close contact with their operation. If we succeed, that person will provide us with some extremely useful real-time intelligence information — which we'll immediately process and pass on to you.'
'Anybody I know?' Rustman inquired.
'I sincerely hope not. Because someone could easily tie this informant back to both the congressman and our client, we need to keep that person's identity a closely guarded secret.'
'Makes sense.' Rustman shrugged indifferently.
'However,' Whatley went on, 'in the event that it ever does become necessary to link up with Wintersole and his team, the informant will use the code word 'canvasback,' repeated twice, as an identifier.'
'Canvasback, repeated twice.' Rustman nodded. 'Okay, I'll notify Wintersole. What else?'
'Our client has a special interest in one of the targets.'
'And which one might that be?'
'Lightstone.'
'The ex-homicide investigator.'
'Yes. To put it bluntly, it would please our client a great deal if Special Agent Lightstone experienced, shall we say, a heightened degree of suffering during the course of the project.'
Rustman raised an eyebrow.
'An interesting phrase, 'heightened degree of suffering,'' the military officer noted wryly. 'Just what, exactly, did you have in mind?'
'Our client would be especially pleased if Agent Lightstone were acutely aware of the unfortunate status of his fellow agents before he meets a similar fate.'
'In other words, you'd like him to remain conscious, aware of the situation, and, one way or another, in a position to outlive the others by at least a day or two.'
'Oh, I don't know about days.' Simon Whatley blanched at the thought. 'I'm fairly certain our client isn't quite that vindictive. I think a few hours would suffice.'
'What does Lightstone look like?'
'As I recall, he's a white male, average height and weight. In any case, he's sufficiently distinct from the other members of Bravo Team that you shouldn't have any problem in identifying him. And you'll be receiving a complete set of photos in the briefing materials,' Whatley reminded him.
'You do realize that guaranteeing even a couple of hours might be difficult.' A thoughtful expression crossed Rustman's face. 'Once you engage the enemy in a fluid tactical situation — '
'My client fully understands that such a stipulation would add a significant degree of complexity and difficulty to the mission,' Whatley interrupted, gaining confidence when he sensed that his knowledge of the financial arrangements gave him a certain amount of control. 'That's why he's authorized me to offer a $50,000 bonus per man, with an additional hundred thousand to you, of course… payment based upon the submission of appropriate evidence.'
'What kind of appropriate evidence?'
'A videotape of sufficient clarity would be more than adequate.'
