61, Roger
“My ex-girlfriend was more stable than this situation, and she had multiple personalities.” Special agent Trent Murdock thought he was funny.
“Let me guess, your favorite personality of hers was when she thought she was your mom?” Dale O’Connor set his binoculars down and yawned.
“Why are you always trying to make it sound like I have mommy issues?” Murdock clicked a button on the binoculars and the infrared scene in front of him was magnified instantly. He clicked another button that took video and zapped the footage to a transmitter that sent the video to CIA headquarters. “Why would you say my ex was like my mom?”
“Because dude, your ex-girlfriend was fucking awful, just like your mother.”
“Don’t judge me, Doc. She cooked like a professional chef and made love to me like a goddess.”
“Leave you and your mom’s personal life out of this, Murdock.” Proud of his retort, O’Connor opened a thermos and began to pour himself another cup of coffee.
“That’s not what I meant, asshole. You know this.”
The voice of Master Thief Owens filled their ears. “No, wait, what? Murdock had sex with his mom?”
“Will you two please cut the shit? Or at least mute us on this comms channel from your useless fucking blabbering. Fuck!” Special agent Laura Lorenz’s voice came through their ear pieces loud and clear.
Special agent Jack Miller’s joyful voice followed in their ears. “Now come on, honey, I agree with Owens. I wanna hear about Murdock fucking his own mom.”
“Yeah, do tell, Murdock,” O’Connor giggled as he egged the teasing on.
“Hardy fucking har har you guys. My ex-girlfriend was a freak in bed and also in the kitchen or I would’ve left her long before I did, you all know that.”
“That bitch was crazy and we all hated you when you brought her to the bar that night,” Lorenz scolded.
Murdock instantly got defensive, half out of comedy, half out of ego. “Do you think I knew she was gonna throw her rum and coke all over me that night?”
“Us, asshole, us. She baptized me with that god damn drink more than she soaked you.”
“I’ve apologized a thousand times, Lorenz! Fuck!”
Miller chimed in, “I remember that night, honey. You smelled like coconut rum. I kind of liked it.”
“You’re not helping, babe!” She was joking, but her agitation at the memory of Murdock’s crazy ass bitch ex was starting to boil her blood a little.
Currently there were five agents conducting recon at a rural mansion located an hour outside of sprawling Mexico City. They were taking pictures and video that were connected to a fully staffed combat mission room at CIA headquarters back in the States. They were trying to get proof that a corrupt Mexican army general was meeting with a couple of Mexican supreme court justices illegally. The agents were surprised when a handful of dirty Texas oil billionaires arrived to the mansion.
The agents knew that the participants of this illegal, private meeting were intending to concoct a plan to overthrow the corrupt democratically elected Mexican government and install a military government. It would give oil drilling rights to the rich businessmen as the generals took over the banks. The plan was risky because they knew the US military would not let Mexico become a failed nation, so the greedy men had to be precise with their takeover.
General Rice was in charge of Team Whiskey. She currently hated being in the office in front of computer screens and video displays. Her love of being in the action made her long to be in the field with her team. She worked with a cadre of ivy league pretty boys in cubicles who were analyzing the footage and pictures being sent from the situation. Her voice suddenly filled their ears. “May I remind you, this situation has the potential to create a civil war south of our boarder that could possibly kill billions of humans world wide from starvation caused by the destabilization of the global economy. It’s our god damned job to not let that happen, you know.”
O’Connor spoke with no emotion but remained indignant. “Ok, I admit we are dealing with some serious shit here, boss, but Murdock is a window licker.”
Special agent Lorenz was cooling off from her previous anger as the gravity of their situation set in. She pretended to be agitated. “You men are oxygen thieves. Shut your shit.” Her lack of emotion was humorous.
“Will do, honey,” Miller said with a sweet sarcastic tone to his girlfriend.
“That tongue of yours can thank me later when we get back to the safe house,” Lorenz said in her sexiest, flirtiest voice.
“Get a room, you two,” Murdock groaned.
“I’m fucking working on that exact thing, you asshat,” Lorenz snapped back in his ear piece.
O’Connor had worked for the government for ten years as a secret agent but still hated the overall concept of governance. His libertarian blood boiled for true freedom. He was wise about data and science but he was also plagued from years of drinking in bars and long chats with drunks about deep conspiracies, real and imagined. O’Connor couldn’t help it as he said, “The world economy is headed towards devastation anyways, Rice.”
“Ok, Doc. Time to focus on the task at hand.”
O’Connor didn’t stop. “There are eighty million baby boomers retiring and dying off, and only forty million of us to keep the economy going with a thirty trillion dollar deficit, and that doesn’t even take Peak Oil into account. The lizard people have planned this all along, you know.”
Rice hired O’Connor because he was an amazing demolitions expert as well as a tried and true field agent. If he’d have been even slightly more incompetent, she’d have fired him years ago. Her voice sounded exhausted in his ear piece. “Dammit, not now, Doc.”
“Instead of focusing on making the rich even richer, our country should have been developing local and regional food production based on regenerative agriculture practices that decentralize our distribution models which would give more resilience to localized weather and geologic emergencies…. hello? Hello?” He’d heard a click in his ears and knew that she’d muted the microphone in his ear piece. “You unbelievers will see soon enough as the whole house of cards comes tumbling down,” he muttered to no one.
The whole team could hear Rice’s voice in their ear pieces. “Owens, the sunset light is perfect to sneak in on the guards. Make it happen, soldier.”
“Roger, boss,” he replied to the general. The Master Thief looked at the contraption in his hand and tried to remember which side was up. It was a stainless steel tube the size and shape of a pencil with no particular markings to orient either end as “up” and had only one button on it. “Getting ready to deploy the hormones.”
Rice wasn’t mean but she sounded annoyed. “They’re pheromones, Owens. Pheromones.”
In his mind, he had no clue what the difference was. “Roger that,” Owens answered.
There were several tall saguaro cacti that were as big as small trees that dotted the landscape. It was twilight and the sun was shining it’s waning light on the front door of the mansion. A random car or two could be seen driving a few miles in the distance, but there was no action in this area except for the guests, all of whom were inside. The two guards looked like action figurines dressed in camouflage fatigues with their automatic rifles standing in the shade of the large porch columns.
Owens was a master of movement and had no problem sneaking up within twenty feet of them without either guard noticing. He pointed the contraption at the guards and hoped he had it pointed the right way. He hit the button and a silent stream of liquid only a fraction of a millimeter wide flew out of it like a crazy fast squirt gun. The volume of the liquid was so thin that it would have blown away in any breeze, but tonight was completely calm. The pheromones hit the two men across the legs and feet without alarming them. Owens grinned and ducked down, waiting.
Rice’s voice was in their ears. “Report!”
O’Connor was honest. “I have no clue, Rice. I’m sipping coffee instead of booze right now and I’ll be honest, I need a burrito or something. I’m famished.”
“You’re fucking useless as tits on a boar hound, Doc,” Murdock said. “My binoc footage should be coming through to your screen shortly, boss,” he replied to the general.
“Yup, we just got it downloaded.” Rice watched the scene unfold in infrared. Owens had snuck up masterfully to the guards and emitted the weapon exactly as planned, then hunkered down and blended into the scene so well that Murdock’s binoculars couldn’t see where he was, even when they zoomed in over and over.
Lorenz spoke up in their ears. “I’ve got a perfect view with this lighting. Rice, it’ll be anytime now.”
“Be patient,” Rice replied in their ears. “If they know that the US intelligence agencies are on to them, we won’t get a damn thing from this mission.”
The agents went silent as they all waited. After a few minutes, one of the guards smacked his arm. The other started doing the same. A few more smacks ensued, then both men started swiping their hands randomly in front of their faces. One of the guards started swearing in Spanish, then both men ran to the door behind them and entered the house, slamming the door behind them.
“Success, boss,” Owens said. “Those mosquito pheromones attracted a cloud of them. Wow.”
“Yeah, bugs are a powerful weapon and we’re just now figuring out how to use them. Begin phase two!” Rice enthusiastically ordered.
“Roger Wilco, boss,” Owens replied quietly. He could control his heart beat at will, but it started beating excitedly. Being in the action was his favorite part of working for Team Whiskey.
Out of nowhere, O’Connor’s voice returned to their ears. “Why does the military use the name Roger?”
The crew thought Rice had muted him, but the surprise wasn’t anything to be shocked about. Murdock went right back to being indignant to his best friend. “It means that you received the message, dummy. And Wilco stands for W, which means willing, like you’re complying, duh.”
“Yeah, I fucking know that you idiot, but why the name Roger? Why not Randy, or Rhonda, or Rusty, you know?” O’Connor wasn’t playing devil’s advocate. He was genuinely curious and felt like right now was the time to ask the question.
Murdock was indignant in their ears. “Oh for Christ’s sake, Doc, do you ever shut the fuck up?”
The bickering had begun. “Says the chattiest Kathy in the group. Pot, kettle, black! Let me guess, Murdock, you’re so racist that you wouldn’t wanna use a name like Rodriguez or Raphael, right? If it aint white it aint right, you racist piece of shit?”
“Dammit Doc, have you become a woke liberal who just accuses racism around every corner but doesn’t actually do shit to help anyone from other races?”
A click popped in their ears to mute them both, but it didn’t sound like a normal click. Neither man considered what it meant. O’Connor snapped back. “Fuck you, dummy, I’m not racist, I just hate stupid people so you’re at the top of the list.”
“Good one, chief! Did you think of that all by yourself or did a kindergartner write that insult for you?”
General Rice’s voice was loud in their ears. “God dammit, shut the fuck up, both of you! Something’s wrong with our comms!”
O’Connor didn’t skip a beat. “Yeah, I know, they break when dumb fucks like numb nuts here talks into them. Look, you cock ridding clown, you owe us all new ear pieces and the countless hours you’ve wasted of our lives.”
Without hesitation, Murdock replied, “Says the man who claims that there’s buried UFO’s in the desert. Yeah, you’re real credible, slim.”
Rice was livid. “I’m fucking serious you two, shut the fuck up!!!” Another click in their ears got their attention, then Rice said, “I think we’ve been hacked.” Quickly, she spoke in code. “Back up sequence code niner bravo.”
“Roger, Wilco,” all of the agents replied at once.
On the new comms channel, Owens voice was a whisper. “Sneaking out of the house now. I bugged eleven of the fourteen people in here and set up twenty five cameras. Rice, you should be getting all the transmissions.”
All of the agents knew Owens was a freak, but he hadn’t even told the crew that he was going to sneak into the mansion, let alone sneak out. O’Connor learned it was useless to ask questions and gave up analyzing the Master Thief years earlier but his curiosity was killing him. “How in the fuck did you do that so fast, Owens?”
“The ladies ask me that in bed all of the time, Doc.”
Rice’s voice had an element of panic on the other end. “Not now you dipshits! Someone was listening to our other frequency!”
“Who?” Murdock asked.
“I don’t fucking know, but it was a triple encrypted channel on oscillating frequencies, so it’s someone who probably hacked us before this mission, or…” Rice paused, “someone on the inside. Fuck.”
Team Whiskey had never had to deal with a mole before. They all trusted each other one hundred percent, so if it was indeed a mole, it had to be one of the ivy league boys in their cubicles at Langley. Murdock tried to reassure Rice, “Well you know it’s not one of us, and we can’t be sure that it’s a mole either. If we’ve been hacked, my only question is how did they do it?”
Owens voice filled their ears again. “I’m outside now. I left a window open and sprayed more of the mosquito pheromone in there but I left the door to that particular room closed. Whoever opens it up tonight will be eaten alive.”
“You’re a cold mother fucker, Owens,” O’Connor said calmly.
“I do what a I can.” Without thinking of what he was saying, he added, “I hope it’s one of those ugly Russian thugs who opens that door. They looked like assholes.”
Rice’s voice was quick to the comment. “Wait, what? There were Russian thugs at that gathering?”
Owens spoke innocently, as if he was just finding out that this detail was important. “Yeah, why?”
“This doesn’t make sense, dammit.” Rice was frustrated. “I’m gonna get Von Stryker and Mickey on this Russian involvement and see what they can find out. Regarding being hacked, I’ll get the pretty boys here on it right away.”
Owens spoke up. “I was in Kentucky a month back with Blacktide and she introduced me to her computer geek friend, Yen Roar. Speck walked into the diner we were eating at and offered her a job with the team. I think she’s only a few weeks into training but I’m telling you, boss, she’s the fuckin best. If you wanna find out who’s hacking us, she’d be a good person to get on the job.”
The comms went silent as a few more clicks could be heard in their ears. Instinctively, the agents knew they were being tapped again. Rice spoke quickly, “Back up sequence delta fiver.”
“Roger,” they all replied instinctively.
In the distance, some unknown nefarious hackers poured furiously over their state of the art equipment trying to find the new frequencies and encryption breakers to listen to a private conversation amongst US secret agents while sex pheromones excited fifty thousand female mosquitos in a room waiting for someone to walk in that they could suck dry of their blood and mental sanity.
