Sunset

Prologue
“It’s yours if you would accept Mr. Uraken.”
“I actually have a choice in the matter mister Secretary?”
“No. Not really. I guess, I may be able to find someone else for the job, but who could
you recommend? Do you have anyone in mind who can keep a better eye on our toys?”
By toys he meant, the Pegasus and the Vanguard, affectionately called the V-mobile.
Two highly classified tactical assault vehicles both with a plausibly denied existence: the
Pegasus, a tank in the body of a helicopter that flies like a jet; its original concept was developed
in AIRAD when it was still managed by the late Apollo Dukkakis now appropriated by
Omicron and piloted by Capt. Aaron Kindle. The Vanguard, once an Italian’s whim from of a
love for fast cars and David Hasselhoff, but later the concept was taken seriously, thus came an
F-16 on wheels, it could do anything but talk. Any of these would be a formidable weapon in
the right or wrong hands.
“Our ‘toys’ sir,” copying the stress the Sec Gen used, “are safe. But why not let CORE or
CADRE handle it. I’m sure Director Spear could manage it quite well.”
“He could, and he is definitely more than able,” the wizened man admitted. “But I have
my reasons. One not least of all is that he’s not been in the field for quite some time. You, on the
other hand have been there recently,” he said at length, leaning back on his chair while looking
the troubled agent in the eye. “I’m offering you a chance to see to it that logistics and materiel
would be up to par with what our agents need. And I’m not just thinking of CADRE, but CORE
and ORCA as well. I know that you have notions about better standardized and coordinated
equipment, as opposed the buffet style gearing up that you do prior to your missions. Besides,
you’ve demonstrated a certain foresight that enabled you to hatch a contingency of how to
counteract one our own toys, the Pegasus. That remote control hack thing was brilliant. But I’d
prefer that that know-how be kept away from the rank and file.”
“Thank you sir,” he replied with a curt bow smiling.
“You misunderstand, I wasn’t commending you. You have foresight, I grant you that,
but you exhibit behavior which could be defined by the paranoid as – rogue. You came that
close to getting an Archon Omega sanction.”
Silence.
 “Off the record, you have good instincts Mr. Uraken, on record you’re a liability. Your
initiative could have been seen as sabotage. As much as we appreciated your help, that course
of action was done without, AIRAD’s knowledge and worse without my knowledge. And right
under Ms. Dukkakis’ pretty nose I might add. Your job was a liaison officer, another glorified
word for messenger. But you pulled an op, making assets of our personnel and proceeded with
an unsanctioned project.” The Secretary General caught the rising tone of his voice and
continued in a more professional tone, “Do know how much damage control we had to do? Ms.
Dukkakis wasn’t the least bit pleased. AIRAD after all was her property.”
“Was?”
“We had to buy her out? What else was there to do?”
He paused for a minute and ordered some coffee from his secretary. Within moments
the door opened and the silence continued until the coffee was served and the secretary gone.
“They were difficult times sir,” the agent said to break the silence.
“Why has it gotten any easier? It is even more so in difficult times that we should tread
cautiously. Brashness is how people get hit with friendly fire. In any case what’s done is done.”
He was waving his hand away in idle gesticulation. “Still, you managed to do what you did as a
mere liaison to AIRAD, and I’m almost afraid of what you could be capable of as director. But,
then again, since you will now be under the direct supervision of my office I hope the chain of
command will not be too complicated for you.”
“So you can keep an eye on us…,” he paused “on me sir,” Shuyun surmised.
“Correct, in fact, I want all plans and codes that you made copy furnished to CORE, and
I do mean everything,” he said seriously. “
“Yes sir,” he sighed in surrender.
“Good, now get to work Director Heimdal.” Referring to the farsighted guardian of
Norse mythology, the responsibility was becoming obvious.
“Then I should be going ahead sir,“ Shuyun rose form his seat.
“Not so fast,” Secretary General then lifted an office file box from under his table and
dropped it in front of Shuyun, “Here’s some light reading to get you started.”
 Chapter 1
Eclipse
“Director, that was the last one,” confirmed AIRAD Corps-ORCA Team Leader Major
Ryans E. Broderick, after removing his swim mask and mouthpiece. He tasted a little of the
saltwater as it trickled down his mask, not too clean he realized.
He let out a heavy sigh as he looked around the base he called home, once upon a
military tour. This area is still secluded today. It is still far away from the docks provided for by
the VFA. Subic still held its charm but somehow it wasn’t the same. That the evacuation in the
1990s made this area of the former base look like a ghost town may have something to do with
it he mused. A few rusty humvee chassis lying around over his left, several empty oil barrels
several feet ahead plus other knick-knacks here and there were all the reminders left that this
was once American territory. Though the “Hey Joe” call by the Filipinos, and the PX store
where goods were strangely priced in both dollars and pesos still rang some bells.
“Thank you Major. But I’d still like to see the recording from your camera if you don’t
mind.”
“You don’t trust me director Heimdal?” quipped the officer. The superior didn’t smile
back; his upturned palm still waiting on the Major while. “It was a joke sir,” he said with an
uneasy grin.
Still no reply.
Broderick warily removed the watertight clip from his camera and handed over the
memory stick, somewhat offended. Heimdal took the stick and plugged it in his viewer.
“It all seems satisfactory,” he commented dryly, giving a slight nod while scrolling to a
different part of the footage. “Let’s see, inventory says there were five left, units M09 to M13
mmmkay check, check, check, check and check,” he was saying this mostly to himself as if his
voice was a second person reading over his shoulders. “Alright, wrap it up boys, secure the
area and prepare for clean up.”
This should have been done years ago thought AIRAD Director Shuyun Uraken aka
Heimdal. He was surprised that the units were still where they left them four years ago in
Cephas.
They were new then, it was their second official mission in that haphazard but albeit
lucky team they call CADRE. Admittedly they were the best at what they did, but putting the
best together did not make the best mix, the whole being somewhat less than the sum of its
parts.
CADRE, Covert Action Direct Response Echelon, translation: the-expendible-team-of-
agents-that-are-too-important-to-let-go-but-too-hardheaded-to-be-team-players-but-at least-we-
can-throw-them-in-together-at-the-last-moment -because-of-all-the-red-tape-that-gets-in-the-
way-to-fix-our-mess-and-hopefully-it-works.
Well, it worked. By fate, providence or sheer dumb luck it worked. They’ve saved the
world from megalomaniacs of every description that came out of the woodwork, and mostly
cleaning up the messes of their past that have caught up with them.
“And we’re still paying for it,” Shuyun muttered under his breath.
“Excuse me sir?” asked one of the marines who just happened to catch a faint
mumbling.
“Excuse what? Oh it was nothing. Carry on Sergeant Grant.”
His mind wandered back to the video of the sunken sub. He doubled as a scuba diver
there once before and winged his electronics know-how to undo the electronic locks of the sub.
Then a dozen or so missions later, Star Chamber fell and Omicron was later reorganized. Then
lo and behold, he assigned to the directorship of AIRAD.
During one lazy afternoon of reading old mission reports, someone got reminded that
there are five personal atomics still underwater in Subic Philippines. Isn’t that peachy?
The Sec Gen didn’t take the oversight lightly but was somehow pleased that it wasn’t
the enemy that remembered—whoever the enemy is now.
“Broderick.”
“Yes, sir?”
“Well done.”
“Thanks, I guess…” he thought, muttering the last words under his breath somehow
puzzled. It was a routine retrieval mission. He actually could have done this alone, no muss no
fuss. He wondered what was up.
“Major, head on home to AIRAD and have those accounted for and placed in storage,
tell Dr. Buchanon to—“ Shuyun’s voice trailed as he turned his head sharply to the left.
“What is it sir?” Broderick asked the suddenly startled director.
“I thought I heard something” Shuyun’s spoke almost in a whisper.
 “A device arming!” the other continued with obvious alarm in his voice. Both men
looked around frantically. Then all of a sudden there appeared the telltale light emitting diode
of unit M12 announced its impending detonation.
Shuyun ran to the device with Broderick and two others at his heels. He took off a panel
and started examining the wiring, quickly recalling his somewhat outdated knowledge of
personal atomics. According to the timer, he had 75 seconds.
“Shuyun…I mean… sir, with all due respect, I’m more current with the device. Let me
handle it.”
“Negative, major,” he said without turning his head as he visually followed the circuitry
connecting the primary explosive to the plutonium. “Your responsibility is to evac your men
and ensure their safety. That’s an order.”
“Your call sir,” the major’s voice was betraying some reluctance. He knew that he could
do a better job. Yet, he was first a marine and following orders was what he did. “Okay ladies
we gotta hulstle. Move, move MOVE!” he order came in a crescendo that belied the uneasiness
of leaving his Section Chief behind. The director is an electronics expert but he did not
specialize in explosives, Broderick did. But the Major realized there was no time to argue. He
did what he was told.

The plutonium to Shuyun’s relief, was actually a stable isotope. It wouldn’t go nuclear
by simply absorbing an explosive shock. It should be relatively safe when disconnected from its
detonation assembly. Disarming the device was therefore secondary; the priority was to de-
escalate the possible damage from an atomic explosion to a conventional one, and he was losing
time just determining this course of action. It might not even be enough to give the men time to
run.
Dang this isn’t a red wire blue wire situation, he thought. Cutting was almost entirely not
involved in this architecture, but the removal of the jumpers in the right sequence. Reroute,
reroute and finally disconnect.
His eyes and hands were remembering their tasks. Shuyun removed and replaced the
jumpers in their right sequence, albeit clumsily from the lack of practice.
 De-escalation was a success but the plastique was still dangerous. There was no time to
disarm the it, and barely enough time to distance himself from the men and give it a toss.
Immediately Shuyun bolted in the opposite direction of his contingent with the explosive in
hand.

Broderick heard the explosion that followed. The director successfully disarmed the
plutonium, he knew that simply because he was still alive to think it. But what of the Chief?
Shuyun managed to roll away at the last moment. The blast threw debris flying in every
direction, though in his mind they were all flying towards him. He had executed a perfect
breakfall to avoid injury, but no one informed the shrapnel of it. The near-by rusty barrels were
shredded in the blast and pieces of metal flew his way. Several struck him on the face, hands
and arms.
To his surprise there was no pain, but he knew better, his injuries were bad. Things were
starting to become blurry. Someone was coming his way, he needed to stand up, but his legs
gave way. Feebly he drew his gun, suddenly a heavy just now and the weapon slipped from his
bloodied hands.
The figure came his way and could barely hear what he was saying, “Sir, are you alright
… Sir, are you okay… Shuyun…”
 Chapter 2
Captive Audience
Only the hiss of the respirator and the blip of other instruments broke the silence of the
hospital room. His eyes were hurt by even the ambient light, but when they adjusted he was
still puzzled. Where am I he thought? Trying to recall and calculate elapsed time. An explosion,
there was an explosion and I was caught up in it.
He tried to get up, but overwhelming fatigue still filled him, the feel of oversleep, his
arms and legs had pins and needles, his head seemed to trail behind as he moved it and the
back of his head felt sore. He felt like he slept for days but it could have been longer. And his
face was all covered with bandages, and underneath there was an irritating stinging itch. The
feeling was only too familiar.
How many times I have been like this, he thought. The first time something like this
happened he woke up dead, in a manner of speaking. Hammerjock was there to greet him, with
a very rude awakening.

“Welcome to the other side Mr. Uraken,” said a middle aged man on a couch across the room.
“Are you dead you may ask? Well, you are and you aren’t. It all depends.”
Who is this man? Where am I, he thought.
“Who am I and why are you here, right? I will answer those two questions in your head shortly.”
he flashed an impish smile. “Blink twice if you understand.”
Uraken stared.
“Not a talker huh. Well I’ll give it all to you in one go big boy. And don’t pretend you don’t
understand English, I know everything there is to know about you, and I know a damn lot that you don’t.
Besides, I’m in a chatty mood, what else is there to do?” The man walked up to the bedside and pulled up
a chair, he turned it around and straddled the chair.
“That was pretty brave and pretty stupid, that thing you did. I understand you tried to get your
brother out of the Yakuza. On second thought, I’ll go with stupid. Do you know who you just tried
to…Oh, how rude of me, I didn’t answer your first two questions.” Hammerjock crossed his arms over
the backrest. “I’m known as Hammerjock, and you’re in Okinawa in the American base infirmary.
Wakarimasu ka?”
Shuyun blinked twice.
 “Nice to see wanna talk,” he said, feigning a jest. “Well you tried to save your brother from Kano
Takeda’s group. It worked, but you just got your best friend and cousin killed. But I guess you knew that
already.”
No he didn’t. “Ryo and Iori are dead?” he thought to himself.
Hammerjock saw the knots in the bedridden man’s forehead. “Oh so you didn’t know? Sorry to be
the harbinger of ill tidings.” He smiled again, and little did Shuyun know that from then on that is what
he would always be, ‘the harbinger of ill tidings’.
“Your cousin and best friend are dead and so are you… umm we’ll get to you in a moment. Lets
see where was I, talk…best friend…cousin…dead…oh now I remember. You just went off against the
baddest SOB this side of Asia—Kano Takeda. He was the Oyabun with which your brother was involved
with. I guess he didn’t know huh? Well, the good news is he’s safe, your brother that is. For your sake we
got him a new identity and something to start a new life with. The bad news is that you will never see
each other or your family..er..mother—again.”
This was all going over his head, Oyabun? Kano Takeda? New identity? Nani shoga!
“Technically, you’re dead Mr. Uraken. And if you ever go to your brother or your family again so
will they, and then it will no longer be a technicality. Well, you had a pretty good funeral better than you
could hope for. The works priests, mourners, we even put you in a kimono that would flatter the emperor,
I know your family couldn’t afford one, but heck if you are going to be dead we’d at least have to tell the
whole world about it, right?” His smile changed into a face of granite that jolted Shuyun from his groggy
swoon, “to make sure no one ever looks for you again.”
He was basking in his dramatic pause before he continued. “You see, you’re good news and bad
news to me too.” Hammerjock became chatty again, but the menace of his voice never left, “Bad news is
that your little stunt threw nine months of covert operations on Kano back to the Stone Age. We’ve been
following his operations for the past year and a half and have finally gotten a mole in. Then you and your
pitiful excuse of a rescue team got Kano spooked.” Hammerjock stood up and pushed the chair away,
slamming it into the bedside table. “Not only did you fail to kill him, but you sent him deeper into hiding.
Luckily you failed to kill him or we’d end up in the Jurassic in all this.
“So you lost your cousin and best friend, big freakin deal! I lost men in that op. Men and women
with families who gave their lives to make scumbags like Kano pay. He’s our ticket to bring down an
entire section of Yakuza down. We don’t want Kano dead, not yet.”
Shuyun just wanted to get his hands on the neck of this gai-jin. He rarely used that term to
describe foreigners even in thought, but his man was more than his vocabulary could insult. Had he been
well, he’d give this man a taste of Uraken jujitsu, a version closer to the Samurai’s method than most
others today.
But he was beginning to understand what was happening to him. He hated this man but he
wanted to hear more of what he had to say. Then maybe kill him later.
“Now the good news—for me mostly.” The American now sat by the bedside leaning into
Shuyun’s ear. “I’m offering you a shot to rise from the dead. Just one shot, and I will accept only one
answer. I’m a handler for the CIA, and I’ve been running things down here to see that men like Kano fear
judgment day. As I said, you’ve set back my operations badly but,” Hamerjock raised his finger and poked
Shuyun on the forehead, Shuyun’s head bobbed up and down the pillow, ”you, yes you, present a unique
opportunity for the CIA.”
Shuyun didn’t like the sound of that.
“We’ve been formulating a profile that would be necessary to bring down this Red Dragon this,
Akai Ryu.”
His accent was terrible, but the contempt was clear. It was clear enough to reverberate a hate in
him as well. He knew that this Kano was responsible for the chain of events that lead to this hospital bed
and life of death. He knew that Kano’s success meant dishonor to the Uraken family name.
“The profile happens to be a Japanese operative, combat experience preferable, technically skilled
and with an intense personal hate for Kano. What that practically translates to is a dishonored heir of a
Jujitsu clan, who graduated with a cum laude in Electronics Engineering. Now where could I find
someone like that?”
Hammerjock smiled again. Shuyun realized that that was his devious smile. But it also seemed to
him that this Hammerjock couldn’t smile any other way.
“Think about it, but I suggest that you just say yes.” Hammerjock pushed himself up from the
bed, walked towards the door and stopped half way on through the door. “What other choice do you
have?” There came that smile again. “You already know too much, I’d have to kill you.”
“Oh wait, I forgot,” as he turned his head to the side, “you are dead.”
 Chapter 3
Prognosis
He woke up again feeling a much better. It’s been two weeks since the blast but his
wounds are not healing as fast as he thought they would. His bandages have just been changed
and his face was still stinging from sweat and disinfectant.
Things start happening when you reach forty-one he thought. I haven’t felt this sore since that
blast from Stroheim some castle eight or ten years back. I got banged up worse than this so I should be up
and running now.
A knock on the door came.
“C’mon in its open,” he whispered feebly. It felt like he had cobwebs hanging inside his
throat from days of silence. It couldn’t have been much worse.
“How’s the patient?” asked Dr. Duane Buchanon cheerily though not really looking at
Shuyun all the while his back was turned as he rolled up his sleeves and readied his medical kit.
“I didn’t hear you so I let myself in. After all, where else would you be?” said the doctor as he
examined his patient with his cold stethoscope.
“I’m fine Duane, for crying out loud. I was injured in an explosion, I didn’t catch E.coli
or something,” he was trying to raise his voice in protest but all he could manage was a
croaking whisper.
“It’s standard procedure sir. You know that.”
“Darn it Duane, couldn’t you pick up a tricorder or something while you were in
AIRAD, I hate being poked around you know.”
“No, Scotty didn’t have mine ready,” he grinned, “but mind you it’s been my poking
around that has kept you and the other agents alive all these years. Even from half way around
the world you’d call me just to patch you guys up like I was your freakin’ family physician.
Although as I recall Agent Drone was my personal best,” he recalled. ”That was your Scotland
mission, pulled out about half a clip of 7.62s from him. Lucky bastard, I wonder if naming his
boy AK was such a good thing.”
“So how long have I got left?” Shuyun let his voice trail on purpose, watching the
doctor’s face before he delivered the punch line. “In this hospital I mean.”
“Very funny. Was that an attempt at a joke? I didn’t know humor was a new hobby for
you. I don’t recall you having one dear Director.”
 “I’d rather laugh than sulk doc. That’s something I picked up from my stay in the
Philippines.”
“Ah, picking up pointers from Ganigan huh? Well you have a lousier sense of humor
than even Derek,” a stifled laugh came from the doctor.
“That was low Duane. You know Derek has the sense of humor of a Vulcan,” now he
was starting to laugh through his hoarse throat.
“Wow, Two jokes now, we better get you off those sedatives.” The light exchange made
the doctor laugh hard.
“Ow ow ow stop..stop.” Laughing isn’t such a pleasant thing when you have flesh
wounds on the stomach and a throat as dry as sandpaper Shuyun realized.
A few controlled breaths later Shuyun asked, “Well seriously now, how long before I get
out of here?”
“I’d say another week,” Dr. Buchanon was stuffing his medical bag again still stifling the
last few giggles.
“A week?” Shuyun protested. “Can’t I leave in three days?”
“Look I have no time to argue so let me make this clear. You’re my Director back in
AIRAD, but as it happens we’re in a hospital and I’m the doctor, so here I’m the boss. So I say
you need another week. Take the antibiotics and rest, Carol and I are holding the fort, nothing
to worry about.”
“That’s exactly what I’m worrying about. Who knows how much…oww!” Shuyun got
cut short by a reopening wound on his shoulder as he tried to rise to prove a point, “….would
happen while I’m gone.” He gently set himself down again. “Jeez that stings.”
 Chapter 4
Charon
“No pulse! Charge to two hundred, ready, CLEAR!” Buchanon was working feverishly
to get Shuyun’s heart pumping again.
“C’mon, ‘nabit you’re not dying on me, not on my watch. Adrenaline 200 cc. stat!”
Immediately Dr. Duane Buchanon jabbed the needle through his patient’s sternum anticipating
the feel of punctured plastic as it pierced the pericardium. “Charge at two-fifty, CLEAR!”
“Sir, vital signs are stable,” informed a nurse.
Haven’t lost my touch, Duane Buchanon thought as he sighed in relief. You sly, sly man,
what was that stunt you pulled, what if I wasn’t here?
He pulled off his latex gloves, “Nurse, prepare the ICU, he needs close monitoring.”

****

“He was a good man. Admittedly not the best I agree, but he never claimed to be, but he
did try,” spieled Derek Spear in his familiar businesslike tone but not in his usual
condescending one. Today he was portraying someone with a heart. He always had one, bigger
than life actually; he just didn’t wear it on his sleeve. It was just so hidden from view that the
obvious seemed to be the reality. Today he was delivering a eulogy for a comrade, no a friend.
“He was always the bearer of bad news. It was his job to tell Ada that Mac died. He had
to tell Sakura that he had to join the game just once more; he had to tell his own mother that he
was dead.” He paused and looked down, at length he said almost whispering, “You finally got
what you …no, what we all want; rest from all this. I should have known I’d be the last of us.
Andrew if you would please,” Derek gave up the floor just when his voice hinted the beginning
of tears.
Andrew Kindle elicited long stares form those present, it seemed to many that the
legendary Macabeus had resurrected. But Spear was not startled, he saw that the creases of
experience and burden were absent from his brow. At length the Air Force captain spoke,
“Uncle, I really don’t know you all that well either, but my father trusted you. That’s enough for
me. Unlike my in my father’s funeral there’s no one to call you monster here. But if I
understand you well enough I know that you have appropriated that label for yourself. That
much I understand about the fate of your original brotherhood. I know at least how you buried
yourself in your work. You became what you despised most, one of them, hoping just as my
father did that as made the sacrifice, in the end no one else would have to. Shalom Uncle
Shuyun. ”
Lastly, agent Michael Mayeda made his way to the front to give his address. He was
once Shinken Uraken, the younger brother of Shuyun. But the sins of his past forever
disenfranchised him from his family name, as was his older brother.
“Brother, Senpai,” he finally managed to say, “It’s my fault. It’s my fault I lost you once,
and now that pebble in the pond has made ripples that resulted in so many misfortunes. Still I
say it’s my fault. I missed you the first time you were gone, I missed how you sounded more
like father every passing day. You became too much like him, and for that I hated you. I guess
you are more like Otosan than just your namesake. I know it’s too late now, but I’m proud of
you Senpai. I’m sorry for not being able to say thank you for saving me countless times. I was
such a coward to even acknowledge that then. But this is too difficult for me. An accident killed
you and nothing else. If it were disease or old age I could say it was your time. If someone killed
you I could avenge you. But there is no way to cope with this. No way. I wish we parted under
better circumstances. Matta ne Senpai.”
He nodded to Arturo to cue that it was his turn to speak. With an air of unaffected
elegance he swaggered towards the open coffin. As they crossed paths he exchanged glances
with Mayeda.
He looked across the room in this small gathering, he felt an uneasy chill as he
remembered attending his own funeral some years back After a breath to compose himself,
Arturo Ganigan spoke. “The first time I really got to know him, was when we were on a ledge
jumping off Strohiem castle ….”
 Chapter 5
The Ranger
Major Broderick returned to his cover as a forest ranger in Colorado. He was thinking to
himself the memories of past field work. Not one in particular, but snippets of the past that just
happened to make its way into his consciousness.
There was a scene of Macabeus shouting ‘I quit’ after the Scarab op. There was another of
Mac again of accepting the mission from then rookie Nicole Spencer and desk officer Allen
McBeal. The memory brought a slight chuckle. “Hmm… I’m here and you’re here, that’s never a
good thing,” he remembered saying.
Even funnier was hearing a polite “Excuse me…” and the burst of Kalashnikovs that
followed. He found a half-dead desk job spook riddled like a pin cushion. But that gave him
enough time to take out those Arab terrorists which in retrospect, wouldn’t have been possible
otherwise. Talk about dumb luck. He would have dismissed it as a dream but he had the blood
stains on his passenger side seat where he carried the unfortunate man.
Just now he drove past the spot where the last memory took place; passing through must
have caused him to remember. ‘What are the odds huh?’ He thought to himself.
“Okay Director Uraken where is it?” He muttered to himself returning his thought to the
present. He checked the GPS map he was following. Even after the funeral he is still following
orders, and this last directive smacks of Shuyun. A cryptic message pointed to a PDA with an
encrypted message and a GPS tracker. Why couldn’t he make things simpler? Why couldn’t he leave
instructions like, ‘Get the package from a safety deposit box in this bank, here’s the key.’
Spycraft, they call it. Jeeez. If we had fewer spies and more soldiers, things would be easier he
thought, but then again, maybe not.
“Okay the coordinates say that I should stop here and…” He stopped suddenly and double
checked the coordinates, there was no mistake. “He found my ammo shack?”
Too surprised to even venture an answer, he left his truck. He came towards at the door and
examined the lock and was satisfied that there was no sign of forced entry.
Still, uneasiness gripped him. He pulled out his gun with his right hand and unlocked with
the door with his left. Without removing the key drew his hunting knife from its sheath which
was strapped on to his belt and slowly stuck it between the door and the jamb to check if it was
rigged. This was his ammo shack after all.
Nothing. He exhaled slowly.
 Still gripping his knife he slowly pushed the door open. A cop on TV would have entered
the room with a flashlight on the other hand that would have been cool. Cool but stupid, he
always thought, he knew better. If he were hiding in the shack and saw a beam of light leak
through the cracks he would have opened fire before the door opened. He would have shot the
four quadrants around the door knob. Good luck to the intruder. Besides, he was trained to
work in lowlight and no light. Fancy moves like that would have gotten him killed in
Khandahar.
The door was now fully open and to his relief he was alone.
He turned on the light to see if there was anything out of the ordinary. He looked at every
shelf, nothing. He knew he wasn’t going to find anything. Things were as he always left them,
yet here were instructions to get here. But now that he’s here, what next? There were no
instructions on what to do, except to get the key and to wear it around his neck. That he did
even before driving here. What the key was for he had no idea.
I guess the director died before he was able to complete this contingency. He thought.
Finally, convinced that there was nothing else, he turned off the light and proceeded to close
the door. But just then as he looked back into the hut, he saw a faint green glow. He turned the
lights back on and the glow disappeared. He turned off the lights again and there it was; the
unmistakable glow, the mark of the killer whale.
“Orca” he whispered.
He mentally marked the location of the glow and turned the lights on again. It was on a
small metal container, such as the one found on vehicle mounted guns, used to carry 200
rounds of ammunition.
The he lifted the clip testily and sure enough the weight was wrong; it was light but not
empty. It obviously had something else inside. He opened it, and for a moment he was startled.
There was a timer counting off ten seconds in a red LED display – a bomb! Immediately he
noticed a cylinder lock right below the timer. Clearly that is what the key was for.
He spared a second to take a deep calming breath. He took his time in the eight seconds that
followed. He demolitionist in him went to work. He knew that panic was the last thing he
needed. He had eight seconds, all the time in the world. He ran his thumb under the necklace
that held the key, he checked the keyhole and saw that the key should be inserted with the
ridge side down then, he gave a clockwise twist. The timer stopped at three seconds to spare.
 “Nasty trick director,” he said under a long drawn breath,” anyone else would have
panicked, and died. He could have made a run for it but it would have still killed him owing to
the fact that this bomb is inside an armory with 200 lbs of C4 to catch the explosion.”
Slowly, he removed the plate that held the timer with a screwdriver from his demolition kit
and sure enough there was an explosive rigged to it. Then underneath there was a palm sized
package.

Chapter 6
Circles

“I tried playing it on my DVD player and on my computer using every codec I could find,
and it didn’t work. I thought long and hard about it and against better judgment decided that
maybe I could trust you.”
“What made you think that Major?” as Derek Spear resting his steepled hands on the table,
the word maybe lingering in his mind. “That you could trust me I mean. Weren’t you afraid that
I could leak this to my friends at the...oh I don’t know… the NSA maybe?”
Broderick studied Spear as carefully as he could. He knew himself to be a fair judge of
character. But Spear was a very different matter. His face was inscrutable. Still, he was not
without wit. “For one thing, you have no friends,” the Major finally managed to say.
“Oh-kay, Spear said slowly”
“And another,” he said in a more certain tone, “I think he trusted you. Even if I don’t”
“You’re right on one point; I’ll let you decide which.“ Derek smiled a lipless smile, “At any
rate you were right to come to me.”
“Oh? What made you think that?”
“Nothing much. Only that he encrypted this using an algorithm that my team personally
developed while I was still in the NSA.” He said slowly while tapping away at the keyboard.
“How he got hold of this algorithm I have no idea. Then again, one doesn’t make it as director
without learning a few tricks. “He stopped typing and rested his chin on his knuckles and gave
a hard pensive stare at the screen.
“What is it?”
As if to answer, Derek turned his monitor around.
 “What does it mean?” asked Broderick not really getting a full grasp of what was displayed
“All I understand is that this first part is addressed to you, and that in itself is pretty strange to
me since he never mentioned you even once,” he remarked.
“Yes it is strange, and yet he knew you’d come to me to help you read it, hence the
algorithm. It says here that he’s leaving his I-dot and a laptop to his mother.
“The I-dot was in the box,“ Broderick remembered. “What else is there?”
“Override protocols for AIRAD addressed to me,” he said letting out a deep breath. “But for
the mean time he trusts, that Buchanon and Madison will be able to handle things. The rest is
further encrypted files which can be cracked using a codec developed at AIRAD. He gave a one
time password to download it from the AIRAD slave server.”
“An I-dot huh..hmmm,” said the major, snapping his fingers repeatedly as if to jog his
memory, “that’s just a glorified sim card isn’t it?” muttered Broderick almost to himself.
“Right, but it can be placed clandestinely in a ring or keychain or whatever piece of
jewelry,” he said explaining. “And according to his instructions you are to view it on his laptop
which is stored in a safety deposit box, and only in the presence of his mother. Plus he said key
you have with you is the same key for the box.”
“Safety, deposit box and here’s the key,” he said as he drew out the chain, “alright got it,”
he confirmed. “I’ve heard of dead men’s wishes but this dead man is one of a kind, he’s got us
running around like he was right over our shoulders.”
“Two, Joseph Drone was capable of the same, do you remember Blue Flame?” asked Spear
as he spun on his chair to face his office window.
“Well yeah I mean there's…. Do they teach all this stuff to you Cold War guys?”
“Not really, actually we taught this stuff to guys who came after.”
“Whatever,” with that the ranger stepped out of the director’s office. There should be more
soldiers than spies, he thought again.
 Chapter 7
Tea Time

“And so ma’am, Shuyun wanted you to see this.”

“And how did he die?”
“Saving my life ma’am.”
“That’s right that is him. That’s how I thought I lost him the first time, saving the family
honor and his brother Shinken.”
“First time ma’am?”
“Oh yes, he came here once after his supposed death.”
“He showed up, here?” the Major was obviously baffled.
“Well he was disguised heavily, hoping to protect me through ignorance I would presume.
He even managed to change his voice,“ Norika Uraken said at length, “but I knew it was him, it
hurt me to recognize him and not be able to tell him. I knew he kept his secret for a reason. To
protect the family I suppose, so I played along.”
“He loved you much.”
“Yes Buroderik-san and we loved him.” It was the voice of a mother resigned to the fact that
her son was dead. “So he finally sends word of his death through a trusted friend. And now no
doubt remains and all joy departs. My son is dead. The mother has outlived her child. We’re
you close to Shu-chan?”
“All I could honestly say is that, he was my boss. He has a reputation among his colleagues;
that he was a passionate friend to those he recognized. I am but a comrade-in-arms in an
invisible war.”
“Ah, then you were close. For the Uraken hold comrades dear to themselves. Thank you for
the closure, I shall now be content to abandon hope and turn to memory. More tea sir?”
“Yes please.”
“Eikichi!” Norika called.
“Hai?” answered the good looking servant boy.
“Cha kudasai.”
“Hai.”
The servant came with a steaming pot and poured hot oolong tea.
 “Here come sit have some tea yourself,” she said in Japanese but she gestured largely so the
American could understand.
At that the servant picked up his teacup with three fingers, and sat in a corner by a sunlit
window.