Chasing Tomorrow Read online

  But there was more than that. When he reflected on his life’s work, he had to admit he loved his life as a private contractor. Looking over at how happy Tony was with his new bride, he wondered if he could ever be comfortable being married. He loved Arianna. She’d become his soul mate. He’d do anything for her. Give her anything she wanted, but what if she wanted to get married and start a family. They’d never discussed it. Was his life conducive to having a wife and children? His feelings regarding this were all over the map.

  After the last gift had been opened, Tony joined him. “Here. Let’s step outside and get some fresh air.” They moved out into the backyard of his in-law’s home, and Tony asked, “What’s the good word on our next assignment?”

  Zach smiled and nodded at a guest coming out the door. After the person passed by, he nudged Tony. “Let’s take a walk. Too many people around here.” They moved off down a garden path. Once out of earshot, he said, “Looks like we need to bug out of here in about ten days. You good with that?”

  Tony shrugged his shoulders. “Yeah, sure. Even less if need be. I’ll be back from my honeymoon in a week. Any details about the op?”

  “Sketchy, at best. All Veritas said was brush up on your Arabic and start growing a beard. Sounds like another deal where we’ll be hiding in plain sight.”

  “Oh, great. My favorite thing,” Tony said with a heavy dose of sarcasm. “I just love rubbing elbows with the enemy.”

  “Copy that. Now, listen. It’s you, me, and Juan on this op. I’ll get everything all arranged while you’re on your honeymoon. We’ll leave shortly after you get home. If anything breaks sooner than that, I’ll message you.”

  “Fingers crossed that doesn’t happen. I’ll be in the doghouse for sure if the honeymoon gets cut short.”

  Zach smiled. “I’ll do my best. Arianna leaves next week for her new assignment in Germany. I’m sending Raul with her. At least I’ll know where she is and that she’s safe. Speaking of which….” He looked up and saw Arianna coming down the walk, waving at them. “What’s up, babe?” he asked when she got close.

  “Your bride is looking for you,” she said to Tony. “You have a plane to catch.”

  Tony looked at his watch. “Oh, damn. Gotta run. Zach, talk soon. Arianna, safe travels.” He gave her a hug. “Love you guys,” he yelled back over his shoulder as he rushed into the house.

  Arianna turned to Zach. “And, we promised my mom we’d run by and see her while we’re in the area, so we need to get going, too.”

  NEW YORK CITY, NEW YORK

  A WEEK later, Arianna arrived in New York, anxious to start her new job as the network’s foreign correspondent. Leaving Zach was hard, but feelings of melancholy were replaced with a feeling of excitement over this new adventure. She’d landed her dream job…something she’d always wanted to do or so she thought. It was funny, though. With Zach in her life, being gone for long periods of time, even busy doing what she loved, didn’t seem quite as exciting as it used to. Someone once told her all of life’s a compromise, and it seemed true in this case. Her job took her away from Zach. His job took him away from her. In order to hold onto love, compromises had to be made. It wasn’t clear who, if either of them, would ever be willing to alter their life’s work in order to be together. Only time would reveal the answer to that.

  “You ready for this?” Kevin asked as they met in producer Steve Shine’s office for a pre-departure planning session. Arianna had insisted they hire Kevin Baxter as her videographer or else she wouldn’t take the job. It was really a bluff. She would have taken the job no matter what, but luckily, the bluff had worked.

  Kevin reached over and greeted Raul, who was standing beside Arianna. “Good to see you back, my friend. Heard you’d be going with us. Welcome aboard.”

  “Thanks.” Raul flashed a big grin. “Have to keep an eye on you two. Make sure you behave yourself.”

  “Nah, I think it’s the other way around. We need to keep an eye on you.”

  Dan Miller, the security supervisor, entered the room and strolled over to where Arianna stood leaning against a desk. “Great to see you,” he said, giving her hug. “You’re looking lovely today. Are you ready for an exciting new adventure?”

  “I am,” Arianna said. “Can’t wait.” Turning to the men beside her, she said, “And I think you know Kevin Baxter, my videographer, and this is Raul Guzman, who’s helping with security.”

  Raul offered his hand, but Miller ignored it and stared at him with a look of disgust on his face, which he made no attempt to hide. “Might as well get this out in the open, Mr. Guzman. I’m against you going with us. If I had my way, you wouldn’t be, but I had no say in this. Let me make something perfectly clear, however. I call the shots, so stay out of the way and let me and my team do our job.”

  “Certainly, Mr. Miller,” Raul replied, ignoring his rudeness. “I understand. Just don’t ever try to separate me from Arianna, and there won’t be a problem.”

  Dan did a slow burn. His resentment for Raul going with them was palpable, and Raul seemed just as resolute in his determination to be ever present at Arianna’s side during the trip. Only Steve Shine calling the meeting to order broke-up a brewing confrontation.

  “Okay, everyone,” Shine began, “let’s all take a seat and get started. The first story we want to cover is in Germany where there’s been a report of an influx of refugees from Syria. We want to take a look at this issue, see if there’s anything newsworthy there. I say you interview some German locals, maybe a couple government officials, and refugees themselves, of course. Not sure how big this story is, but see what you can dig up, Arianna, then we’re going to move on to another story in France.”

  “I’ll know more when I get there,” Arianna said. “I’ll need a couple of interpreters though. I don’t speak German or Arabic.”

  “Yeah, right.” Shine paced back and forth. “Our office in Cologne has that covered. By the time you arrive, they’ll have an interpreter lined up. You’ll use the Cologne facility as home base to operate out of as you move around the country.

  “Oh, and my secretary, Valarie, has everyone’s paperwork in order…airline tickets, passports, visas, press credentials, et cetera, et cetera.” Shine stopped pacing and turned to face Raul. “You’ll need to declare any firearms and ammunition at check in. I believe they need to be in a locked hard-sided container which will be stowed in the cargo section of the plane. Dan can help you with that.”

  “Don’t think so,” Dan quipped. “I’ll take care of my people. He’s on his own.”

  Steve shot him a look of disgust. “Uh, now wait just a darn minute, he—”

  Raul interrupted him. “It’s okay, sir. Not my first rodeo. I can handle this.”

  Shine glared at Dan a minute, shook his head, and then turned back to Arianna. “Where were we? Oh, yeah. We’d like to be able to run a piece on this issue within the next two weeks, so you have to get on this right away.”

  Arianna nodded. “I have it covered. Not my first rodeo, either. Besides, I’ve been reading up on this issue, so I think I know where to start. Just get me there, and I’ll deliver the story.”

  “That’s what I like to hear.” He smiled at Arianna. “Dan, do you have anything else?”

  “A car will be around at your hotel at five a.m. to take you to the airport. Anyone who misses their ride is out of luck.” He looked straight at Raul, who stared straight back at him causing an uncomfortable moment.

  “We’ll all be there,” Arianna said, and gathered her things to leave. “Come on, guys,” she said to Kevin and Raul. “Let’s have a drink, then grab an early dinner. It’s going to be a short evening since we have to get up early, so let’s get going.”

  IRBIL, IRAQ CAPITOL OF KURDISTAN

  The plane touched down at the Irbil airport. Zach and his team deplaned and walked into the terminal. They were met by a driver who had been sent to take them to the CIA station on the outskirts of the city.

  “Are
we really in the right place?” Tony asked, as the car made its way to CIA headquarters. “This town is too frickin’ modern to be in Iraq.”

  “It’s changed a ton since I was last here,” Juan added.

  Zach nodded. The oil-rich capitol of Kurdistan had luxury hotels and dozens of bars, clubs, and restaurants. Many considered its busy nightlife scene to be rivaled only by that of Dubai in Saudi Arabia. The modernistic, liberal city certainly wasn’t typical of most cities in Iraq.

  Another thing that flourished in the city was the presence of private security contractors. When the U.S. military pulled out of Baghdad, numerous private security companies took its place. The Pentagon doled out close to a half a billion dollars to these firms for the protection of reconstruction projects in and around the city…much needed protection as the area was still a hotbed of terrorist activity, the biggest being ISIS, which was an ever-present threat in the area.

  Then, there was the CIA whose role in the region could never be officially confirmed or denied. OGA, an acronym for “Other Government Agency,” was a common slang term for the CIA. And gone was the Agency’s traditional mission of secretly meeting and recruiting informants. They now acted as a paramilitary force—raiding insurgent hideouts and hunting for mysterious militants, all which required the assistance of private contractors like Zach and his team.

  “This sure beats working in some hell-hole in the middle of the desert,” Tony said as they passed one of the luxury hotels. “I think I’ll actually be sleeping in a soft bed tonight and get a hot shower in the morning.”

  “Yeah, well, don’t get too used to it,” Juan said, seated next to him in the backseat of the car. “Once the mission begins, you’ll be sleeping on the ground, brushing sand fleas off your face, shivering your ass off at night, and roasting during the day.”

  “Don’t I know it,” Tony responded. “I can’t wait.”

  Their car left the outskirts of the city and approached an FOB, forward operating base, where the CIA headquarters were located. Zach looked over at the driver and said to him in Arabic, “Slow down. Don’t you see that guard waving his hands at you? You’re coming in pretty fast.”

  The driver either didn’t hear or didn’t understand what Zach said because he continued to speed toward the gate. The next thing they knew a sniper put a couple bullets through the car’s engine block, shutting the car down.

  “Jesus Christ!” Zach yelled and everyone instinctively ducked and reached for their weapons. Kurdish guards surrounded them, keeping a safe distance from the vehicle.

  “You fucking, idiot,” Juan said, smacking the driver in the back of the head. “What the hell were you trying to do? Didn’t you see the guard telling you to slow down?” He thumped him on the back again, angry at how he had put everyone’s life in danger.

  “Okay. Okay, everyone calm down,” Zach ordered. “Let’s stay cool and not make this any worse than it is. Holster your weapons and sit tight.”

  “Alkhuruj min alssayara! Step out of the car!” the guard repeated in English. A voice on a bullhorn ordered them to exit the SUV and to keep their hands up.

  “Nice and slow, fellas,” Zach said, as he began getting out of the car. “Do what the guard says.” Once outside, he shouted, “Americans. We’re Americans.”

  “Take your shirts off,” the guard yelled back.

  “Suicide bombers. They think we’re suicide bombers,” Tony said as he removed his shirt.

  “We’re fucked if there’s a bomb on board,” Juan bellowed.

  “Keep your eye on the driver,” Zach said. “Someone nail him if he makes one false move to detonate the car.”

  Shirts off, one of the guards motioned them forward, away from the vehicle. “Let me see your hands. Keep your hands where I can see them.”

  “They’ll drop you in a heartbeat if you lower your hands even an inch,” Tony warned, “so keep them up fellas.”

  The group moved closer to the security gate where a guard nudged them over to a search area. A rather plain-looking woman with a slim build rushed up and said something to the guards in Arabic causing them to lower their weapons.

  “Gentlemen, it’s okay,” she said turning toward Zach and his team. “I’m chief of station here in Irbil. Veritas said you’d be arriving today, but he didn’t tell me you’d be making such a grand entrance.”

  The team lowered their hands and breathed a sigh of relief, not amused at her attempt at humor.

  “Lauren Mathews,” the chief said, offering them her hand. “Sorry you had to go through this. Everyone’s a little nervous around here. We lost sixteen people from a suicide bomber a month ago. We thought we had a friendly coming in and got careless with our procedures. Some of our best people were killed that day, so no one’s taking any chances any more.”

  Juan walked up to the driver and grabbed him by the throat of his shirt. “Your lead foot almost got us all killed. I ought to—”

  “Juan! Stand down. It’s over,” Zach said. “Let him go.”

  Juan released him with a jerk and the driver took off running. Juan picked up a rock and pegged him in the back as he ran. “Idiot! Get the fuck out of here,” he yelled after him.

  A guard approached and returned their shirts and weapons. Irbil was like the Wild, Wild West and open carry was the norm.

  “Follow me,” Lauren said to the group. “Let’s get you guys some refreshments and give you a minute to unwind, then I’ll brief you on the upcoming op.”

  They moved to a room in a barracks used by the CIA and beverages and snacks were brought in. Everyone helped themselves to a beer and sat down to relax. This had been anything but a smooth entrance.

  “So welcome to Irbil, the capitol of Kurdistan,” Lauren began. “The CIA and Special Forces work closely with the Kurdish Peshmerga. They’re a strong fighting force in the area, resolute in their determination to protect this city from ISIS and determined to take their country back. American pilots defend from the air, but those airstrikes are almost useless without good intelligence and targeting. That’s where you guys come in. You have the training, but the Kurds know the area. We need the two of you to work as a team.”

  “We’ve worked with the Pesh before,” Zach said, setting his drink on the table. “Peshmerga stands for ‘one who faces death’. They’re some of the most fearless fighters I’ve ever met.”

  “Copy that. Intelligence,” she said continuing, “has identified the corridor between Mosul and Tal Afar as a major ISIS stronghold in Iraq. It looks like some senior ISIS operatives feel they can move through the area without being detected. They must think it’s safe because personnel, equipment, and money are all moving daily, back and forth within that corridor.”

  Tony grabbed another beer. “Sounds like a target rich environment.”

  “It is, but only if you have good intel. U.S. warplanes strike targets in the area when they are able to find them. In fact, we’ve put so much pressure on Mosul, we believe we’ve seen some of the leaders move their families into Tal Afar where they think they’re safer.”

  “But…” Zach said.

  The COS looked at him. “Yes, right. There is a ‘but’. We need close-air support to find these targets. We need people on the ground who can be our eyes and ears. That’s the only way to get the information our pilots need.”

  “Up close and personal,” Juan said.

  “Up close and personal,” Lauren repeated.

  Zach leaned forward. “So let’s get specific here. Give us the details of this op.”

  Lauren held up a finger indicating he should hold on. She signaled to an aide in the back of the room who stepped outside and returned with a Kurdish fighter. Tall, unshaven, with cracked weather-worn skin, the man looked like he’d seen some rough times on the battlefield.

  “Gentleman,” the agency chief said, “this is Masoud Abbas. He’s one of our top fighters, and he’ll be teaming up with you on this op.”

  Zach started to introduce himself and the team w
hen Masoud put his hand up and stopped him. “I was told you speak Arabic. Is that correct?” he asked in Arabic.

  “Na’am,” Zach answered

  “Very good,” Masoud replied. “You’ll need that where we’re going. But I also speak English, so shall we continue in English?”

  Zach and the group nodded.

  Masoud smiled. “I have a degree from an American university, and I learned to speak English there. Now, as far as names, because of the nature of your work, you all need what we affectionately call, nom de guerres…assumed names. To protect your identity, all the Westerners adopt Kurdish names which typically includes the word ‘Heval’, Kurdish for friend. So for instance, you might be Heval Zach. You are Zach, right?” he asked.

  Zach nodded. This guy knows more than he’s telling.

  “Well, you can’t be Zach anymore. It’s important there is no way to identify any of you, so I’ll let you men figure out what you want to be called by the next time we meet.”

  “The mission,” Zach said, pushing back in his chair. “Let’s hear about it.”

  “We have zeroed in on a suspected bomb-maker’s home in Mosul who’s been behind many roadside bombings and suicide missions. We don’t have any hard intelligence, but we suspect major resistance so this will be a cordon and kick operation. We want the bomb-maker plus any cellphones and computer equipment he has laying around. And we want a quick in and out and vanish into the night.”

  Tony and Juan looked at Zach, trying to read his expression which as usual, telegraphed nothing of what he was thinking.

  Zach cleared his throat, and asked, “Why us? You could have any one of your men do this? There must be something you’re not telling us.”

  Masoud looked over at Chief Mathews who stared back at him for a moment. Finally, she stood, exhaled deeply and said, “You’re right. There is. This is just the first stop along the way to the second leg of the mission. You’ll be briefed on phase two tomorrow, so go and settle into your hotel. Have a nice dinner and a few drinks. Get a good night’s sleep, and when you wake up in the morning, if you’re still prepared to die for your country, come back with your new Kurdish names, and we’ll talk.”