| "All the King's Horses" | ||
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June 7, 2008 White House, Oval Office 1030 hours Wellington entered the president's office with a grim feeling surrounding him. He did not want to give his report to Ryan, but he had to. With a deep breath he knocked on the door. He heard the muffled 'come in' and entered the large office. Ryan was standing by the window wearing a pair of jeans and a red collared shirt. Casual day at the office, Jackson thought to himself, if only in the clothing. "I've got some interesting news," he said carefully taking a seat in front of the president's desk. Jackson watched him silently. When the first report came in about the embassy bombing in France they had been lucky, had gotten a break...they had intelligence officers in the area. Why? Because They believed something was going to happen, that something was in the works. The 'chatter' had been increased the entire week before and additional resources had been put into place. It only took them 4 hours to trace the attack back to the man behind the bombing, Petrenko, a high ranking Russian politician. He had been linked to various organizations but nothing was concrete. Nothing was ever concrete in this world anymore. So, the American government now had an opportunity to answer the silenced voices of the 58 dead, and the question was...would they take it? "I'm not sure if that's what I want to hear this morning," Ryan said evenly before taking a seat behind his desk. "But I don't think I have a choice." Jackson nodded thoughtfully. "As you know, our sources have pointed to Petrenko as the man behind the embassy bombing. There's been an attempt on his life, not surprisingly..." "An attempt?" "Yes, I should have more details soon, but the attempt has tightened up his security and he's moved locations." Wellington handed over the folder that was in his hands. Ryan took the folder and studied its contents silently. He looked up to Wellington, "you're not showing me these for a geography lesson on Russia...what's on your mind?" "Well," Wellington took a little breath. "I believe an opportunity has just presented itself to us." "Opportunity," Ryan raised his eyebrows. "Yes, with Petrenko moved to this location it makes him more...vulnerable." "Remote location, tightened security...and this is vulnerable how?" "Not vulnerable in a sense on the cover." Wellington leaned forward. "But vulnerable to certain individuals...certain individuals that work under the radar so to speak. All the king's horses." Ryan narrowed his eyes slightly finally catching the older man's drift. "The king's horses, huh?" "They're a good team, John, the best. If anyone can get in there undetected, get a hit off, and get out undetected...it's them." Ryan nodded his head thoughtfully considering Wellington's words. He knew the implication of such a bold maneuver - sending a team from the US on to Russian soil to assassinate one of their Politburo members? Would they dare? "If they get caught?" "You forget the most important fact: they don't exist. They move on the inside and do things that no other sanctioned agency we have can do. If they get caught," Jackson shrugged, "they know we'll deny they belong to us. They're on their own. But believe me, John, they won't make a mistake." "You put a lot of trust in them," Ryan said thoughtfully. "That I do. I've met them, watched them work. They'll get the job done." Jackson wasn't quite so sure if he was trying to convince Ryan...or himself with that statement. Ryan sat back and rubbed his chin thinking about the agents he had met only through a brief overview of their profiles. And what if they did get caught? What if he had to stand somewhere in the public eye and deny their existence? Presidents before him had done it�but he had never. "If I say yes, what can we do to protect them if anything happens?" "We can lay some chickenfeed out. Start pointing fingers at other terrorist cells. Other than that..." Jackson shook his head. "I don't like sending our people out then..." "This is what they are for. This is how opportunities are taken, history changed..." "Wars started?" Wellington sat back. "You commissioned the SIA to fight terrorism on a battle field that we could otherwise not by conventional means. You appointed this agency to fight the dirty battles that would leave our hands cleaned. This is what they do." "And what about their group...the RGZS?" "What about them?" "Aren't we supposed to be working with them? Didn't we employ their assistance on the Konstantin problem?" "Yes we did, and they proved a valuable asset..." "Then should we not involve them with this? We are after all, going on their soil for our own purposes." "They might not hold the same viewpoint as us," Jackson said. "Even so, I should think at least they should know we're coming." Wellington shook his head. "I'd have to advise against that, but it's your decision to make." Ryan nodded his head closing the folder and handing it back to Wellington. "Send the team in." "Very good, sir," Jackson replied. "But, call Georgiev, explain to him our position and that we will not back down. We have every right to go after Petrenko. He killed 58 Americans." "I understand." "Good," Ryan stood and extended his hand. "This is a lot more intricate then taking out a thug in New York City..." Wellington stood and shook his hand, "I understand." Return |
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