Ghosts: CATU Book 01 Ch. 01

Move outta the way asshole!" shouts someone from another car.

Slamming on the brakes as a car cuts in front of them, his mother can only sigh. Looking around traffic has nearly come to a halt with almost everyone trying to fight for a better position in line. "If only people would take their time and work together, things would probably go smoother," thinks Spencer.

For only eight, he has a lot of insight and ideas. Where he got it from his mother could only wonder. Of course what she didn't know or anyone for that matter was he saw things that no one else did. Things not like the movies, ghosts or spirits with horrible injuries that only a few can see. No these were truly horrible. The movies were a walk in the park in comparison. Spencer couldn't tell you how long he had what people would call a gift, but it was long enough to help push him toward a little growing up.

"Mommy, we need to get off this bridge and away from here," he says looking at his mother with tears welling up in his eyes.

"My God honey, what's wrong? Why are crying?"

Thinking she would think his imagination was running wild again, he says, "I'm scared the bridge won't be here much longer."

With that natural compassion mothers seem to have she says, "Oh sweetie, nothing like that is going to happen, these things are like sold rocks."

With that, all hell literally breaks loose. The ground, if a bridge could be called that, starts shaking, glass breaks, people scream. But the roars, the roars only Spencer could hear, the sight of them, only he could see. The fear wells up inside of him. The pain is extreme.

He wakes up in a cold sweet, heart racing, another nightmare. The same nightmare. The only nightmare Spencer ever has.

That was the day that changed his life forever. Out of the two hundred and thirty-four people on the bridge that day, he was the one and only survivor to be alive. Sure he had a few bumps and bruises but that was all. How he survived, God only knew.

Now being much older, he is no longer is bothered by what he saw that day. Hell, he sees it all more too often then he likes. What bothers him, is watching his mother die over and over every time he has the dream.

Swinging his legs over the side of the bed, he says, "Another glorious day," with all the sarcasm he can muster.

Special Agent Spencer Reeds, a recent promotion from Agent, works for an agency that combats terrorism. The agency is as secret as UFOs and aliens really being in existence. Everyone knows him as FBI Special Agent, but that's only a scratch on the surface.

He looks at the clock, bright red glowing 3:47 A.M. "Well, at least I got to sleep late," he mutters.

He starts for the bathroom when the phone rings. In his line of work the phone ringing is as normal as someone getting sleep.

"Reeds," he answers with slight irritation in his voice.

"Spence, we need you at HQ," Sam says in a hurried voice.

"Yeah, give me fifteen," he replies with a little more enthusiasm.

"See you then."

Maybe my day won't be bad after all.

He enjoys his job, more then he let anyone know. He loves life as well. He could do without the dreams.

FBI Building, CATU Division

What's the situation Sam?" Spencer asks as he takes a seat at his desk.

"Well, good morning to you too. Always straight down to business," Samantha says jokingly.

A shadow crosses Spencer's face and right then she knew he had the dream again. Sam was the only person he had confided in about the dream. Sure when the incident happened it was all over the news. Spencer was of course cast in the light of the media, but as with time eventually he was forgotten about.

"You had it again," she said stating it more than asking.

Avoiding where this was going to go he says, "So what's the urgency?"

"A call to the FBI came in about 3:20 this morning," she pauses, "the callers claimed to have kidnapped Sara."

Instantly he knew who Sara was. Sam had grown up with her and in their youth spent every waking moment together. Sara happened to be the President's daughter.

He took her hand, ready to give her some comfort to answer he already knew. "Has this been confirmed?" Spencer asks, already knowing the answer.

"Yes, she was missing from her home in what appeared to have been a few hours."

Lowering his head, Spencer's thoughts swirl through his head; he could only imagine what she was feeling at the moment. After losing his mother, and with his father already dead several years before that he had no one. Sam was the first person to really connect to him and really be a friend. He could only compare what the feeling would be like if something like this happened to her.

"What's Roger say about this?" he asks.

"At the moment, it's an FBI and Homeland Security matter," she says softly.

"Since no threat of it being a terrorist action," Spencer finishes her thought.

Sam was doing a decent job at keeping together, one quality that Spencer liked in her. When the times got rough, she still put her job and the protection of the American people first. He joined the FBI at nineteen and with his exceptional abilities and skills; he transferred to CATU (Covert Anti Terrorist Unit) within two years. Sam was already part of the unit. She was very talented, joining herself at seventeen; she was instantly transferred to the unit.

"So why did I get called in early, if we are to just sit on our hands?" he asks.

"From what we have been dealing with these last few weeks, the analysts believe this is connected." With more hope in her eyes, she says, "And with Sara being the President's daughter, we were asked to participate in case the theory rings true."

"Well then," he asks with a warm smile, "what are we standing around for?"

——

Shut up bitch!" the man says with venom in his voice as he brings his hand across the young woman's face.

"If you know what's good for you," another voice with a thick German accent says, "then you'll participate and shut the fuck up!"

Blindfolded, tired and scarred, Sara fears for her life. After being abducted from her home in the middle of the night she had no idea what anyone would want with her. Other than the obvious: her being the President's daughter.

"Ple-Please..." she tries her hardest to stay calm.

The man raises his hand again and ----

WHAP!

— His hand flies across her face again.

Slapping her seemed to be fun for the German. "I told you to shut your fucking mouth." Patience obviously was not a strong point with him. "Fucking American bitches, can't keep their mouths shut."

"I told you Rudolph. I told you we should have taken someone else." He instantly feels stupid for saying that.

"Who?" asks Rudolph. "Tell me that. You know as well as I do the President would need some motivation."

Silence falls on him, he knew Rudolph was right.

"Hell Hanson decided on this long ago, it just took planning and patience, which was why he's the boss," he the man says.

Crying as silently as she can she thinks Please God help me out of this, please, please, please.

She never thought being the President's daughter would ever lead to something like this happening. Her only hope is that this would turn out alright.

——

Alright everyone," Roger says with a stern voice, "let's get seated and briefed."

Now that all the agents were in at the regular time, things could continue. The room as large as it was, seemed very crowded this morning.

We'll all be out of sleep before this ends.

After he had every person's attention, Roger looks around to get an idea of their thoughts. Almost everybody knew of the situation, so all were somewhat prepared. The room being the largest in the annex, was meant for situations like this, but hardly used for this purpose. He could count on one hand how many times the collective of agents for the unit had gathered like this.

"All of you probably have an idea what has transpired in the last twenty-four hours, but I'll go into full detail anyway."

This got a few murmurs from the agents; most hoping it was just a rumor. Terrorist activities that CATU face are hidden and kept away from the public. The few terror activities in the media are small compared to what they deal with. If it wasn't for the tactics this division deployed, America would no longer be what it is. So when big arises, a few start to get a little nervous.

"At approximately midnight last night, the President's daughter, Sara McKinsey, was kidnapped," he pauses to let that small bit soak in. "How the kidnappers got past the Secret Service agents is beyond anyone guess."

A voice rises above the murmurs. "Sir, you said kidnappers not terrorists," the young man says more as a statement than a question.

"That's right Adams, as of right now, this does not fall into our jurisdiction."

Murmurs start up again. No one here had a problem with doing their job, let alone help an innocent victim, but that's what the National Security was for.

"Quiet please," Roger says in a smooth tone. "I know you're thinking what does this got to do with us. Well, not much at the moment, but evidence shows this may be terrorists so eventually it will become our job, other than that, this is the President's daughter after all."

In the back of the room Spencer and Samantha are sitting together. Sam feeling down and a little sullen says, "Spence, you think this will turn out alright in the end?"

"Have I ever let you down?"

"Not yet," she says with a slight hesitation.

I hope saying that is not going to be a mistake.

He says, "Then I don't see why I should start now."

This seem to cheer her up a little, though with a little doubt hanging below the surface, Spencer just hopes to God this would turn out good. He always hated to make a promise he couldn't keep. That's why he rarely promised anything.

"We don't have much to go on people," Roger says. "We only have the initial phone call, they didn't demand anything, just simply said we have the President's daughter."

"Were we able to get a trace from the call?" someone asks.

"No," states Roger.

"What about background noise?" another asks.

"Again, no," he says with a shake of his head. Going over this with the agents seems even more hopeless than before.

Murmurs start up again. Those are the two most important things when limited on facts in any given situation.

"So what do we have to go on?" questions Spencer.

"Glad you asked," beams Roger. "We have an accent; the caller seems to be of German decent, now whether this was a ruse or his actual voice, it's hard to tell. But if anything it's a lead and it's all we have."

"So where do we start?" Adams asks.

Adams always inquisitive and with remarkable talents is almost ready to be bumped up to Special Agent. This is just the case he needs to get that special status.

"Where you always start," looking around, Roger makes eye contact with each individual agent, "we review all past activity, some of you specifically with the German terrorist groups. Of course further analyzing of the call and whether something turns up or not, we wait for another phone call."

With the mood lifting in the room, Roger dismisses them all. The questioning and eagerness of Adams never really brings much thought to Spencer, but today there was something odd in Adams demeanor. He couldn't quite place it. It had a familiarity to it. Turning to Samantha he says, "Go ahead and get started, I'll meet you in the office."

"No problem, trouble?"

"Nothing I can't handle, I'll explain it in a bit," he replies.

Turning away Samantha left towards their office, Spencer in the direction of Adams.

He disappeared.

Spencer turned down a hall he had seen Adams turn around not even ten seconds before him. One minute he was there, the next he was gone.

Well, it can wait a little bit.

——

What are the thoughts of the feds?

"So far not a whole lot. Hell, there's not much to go on," replies Geoffrey.

My plan is working fine, just fine. The cloaked figure says with grim satisfaction.

"Glad it's going good for you, just as long as I get my share," states Geoffrey.

Oh I'll hold up to my end, it's you humans that never hold up to theirs. When the time is right, you'll be able to do your deeds.

"Then payment will be collected on a later date right," Geoffrey questions.

Oh, most definitely, most definitely. When I need you again, I'll be in touch.

With that the figure turns and walks through the wall and vanishes.

"I've got a lifetime to get out of the deal," he says to himself.

"Are you talking to someone?" asks Agent Myers.

Startled and not knowing if anything else was heard he says, "Uh, no, no, um everything is fine." Adams never liked being caught off guard, it made him feel too vulnerable.

"Quite a shock with the President's daughter, eh?" Myers says dredging up conversation.

"Yeah you're right about that," says Geoffrey, not really interested in the topic or conversation with the man.

Myers asks, "Do you think we'll have any luck and find her alive?"

Why are you bothering me?

He says, "I hope so." And he meant it; he wanted to do all the terrible things back to her that she did to him. He just had to complete a few more tasks then she'd be all his. He just might be nice enough to leave her alive, scared but alive.

"Did you hear me?" asks Myers.

"I'm sorry, I was thinking," Geoffrey says. "Nice talking to you I get going on getting this case solved."

With that he turns and leaves leaving Agent Myers alone in the hall with his own thoughts.

"Weird guy," Myers says to himself. "Very weird guy."

——

Took you long enough," Sam says teasingly. Taking her mind off her friend helps to keep Sam from being distracted.

"Yeah, tried looking for Agent Adams, but he just up and disappeared," says Spencer.

"Adams, Adams. Don't think I recognize the name."

"I've heard of him, may have talked to him a few times, but nothing beyond that," says Spencer.

"Hmm, well we can get him rounded up and in here if you're wishing to talk to him that bad," she says in an inquisitive manner.

Not wanting to be nosy as she could usually get information from Spencer this way, most of the time he volunteers it. She noticed though, that it only works for her.

"No, well kind of," he says stumbling for his words. "I just got an odd feeling about him back at the briefing." Sam always seemed to be able to get him off guard.

"Coming from you, I believe it," she says with a smile.

"At the least, it wouldn't hurt to pull his record, see what he's all about," he says with a return smile on his face.

"I know that smile," Sam says.

Just then the door open and Roger walks in with a smile on his face as well. The six foot two inch black man takes up the entire frame of the door as he passes through.

"Good news," he says stopping mid-sentence. "What are you two all smiles about?"

"Oh, nothing boss," Sam says before Spencer even has a chance to take a breath.

"We could ask the same of you, sir," states Spencer.

"Like I was going to say, good news, we have a lead," Roger says barely keeping any excitement out of his voice.

"A lead?" both Spencer and Sam ask in unison.

"Yes," he pauses, "it seems a neighbor saw a van leaving the scene and in quite a hurry." Continuing he says, "The neighbor said it was a navy blue color with blacked out windows. She got the license plate number and saw one of the possible kidnappers. She didn't get much of a description but she stated he looked foreign, European maybe. Not much to go on but she is with a sketch artist right now."

"Well that's better than what we did have," says Spencer.

"Now, you two are my best," Roger says, "I want you to head this investigation and use whatever resources and personnel you need. Understand?"

"Of course sir," says Spencer.

"You betcha boss," says Sam.

"Now how many times do I have to tell you, stop calling me boss. If you're gonna call me anything, call me by my name."

Laughing Sam says, "How long have we known each other boss?"

"Heh," Roger chuckles. "Too long. Now get on it, you guys get Sara back safely."

Walking out of the office, Sam takes a brief respite, thinking about her boss. When she first came into the unit, Roger was her superior, but not head of the unit yet. He'd taken her under his wing and showed her pretty much everything he knew. He was like the big brother that took care of you and made sure you were always protected.

"Hey, you in dream land over there?" Spencer asks waving his hand in front of her.

"Yeah, just reflecting," she replies.

"Well since we have the go ahead, let's set up a team. Any ideas who we want?"

"For starters, what about this Adams guy," she asks.

"Sure, go ahe—"

Interrupting him, the phone starts ringing.

Spencer picks it up. "Reeds. Mmhmm...yeah...ok...sure, be right there." He hangs it up and says, "That was Donna, she said the neighbor was finished and the artist is putting on the finishing touches as we speak."

"Great," Sam says. "You go ahead and get a copy of that, I'll go and pull some files on a few candidates. Meet back here in fifteen and then lunch maybe?"

"Sounds great. See you in fifteen."

Lunch sounded like a perfect break. He knew it was going to be a long day.

——

Hanson, I trust everything has gone according to plan?" asks Kloser.

"Without a hitch, the bitch was easier to take then I foreseen," Hanson says with a bit of pride in his voice.

"Do not get ahead of yourself just yet Hanson. With the FBI and Homeland Security alerted, you'll need to stick to the plan."

"Don't worry, we have the bitch and we get to make the demands, we do—"

"You will listen to me and you will listen well," Kloser says angrily. "This is my plan and you will do as I say."

"Whoa, now just calm down," Hanson says with anger burning in his voice. "I don't like being told what to do, if you had any inclination of ju—"

"Unless you want me to deliver you to the Americans in a box cut to pieces, you'll listen and choose your words carefully. I provide your funding and planning for your beliefs and terrorist destruction. This is not only about you and your ideas, but what I want and the destruction I want to cause. Am I in any way unclear as to what you are to do?"

"No, I understand perfectly, I wi—"

"Good, I'll be in touch, Hanson. I will also be watching you."

Click.

Hanson sits there for a moment listening to the dead line of the phone before finally hanging it up. Furious with rage he says, "Just who the hell does he think he is?"

Rudolph just sits there in silence. He knew when Hanson was mad like this, the best thing for him to do was just sit and stay quiet. Other than Hanson, Rudolph knew who really pulled the strings in the organization. Ghost wasn't run by Hanson anymore, not since finding Kloser as a financial backer.

Gerard Kloser, a well respected banker in both America and his home country Austria, welcomed the opportunity to aid Ghost. Sure it was great in the beginning, plenty of funding, weapons, and man power. Rudolph and Hanson lived the great life, taking power and destroying those with it. Those who did not deserve it and ruled with idiotic beliefs. The purpose of Ghost was to bring order to the world, so that everyone would be under one direction. But like all good things, this world of theirs came crashing down.