Myths and Legends - Amazons Ch. 11

Chapter 11

CIA Headquarters

Langley, Virginia

"And you're certain it's him?" Section Chief Anderson asked. A voice buzzed on the other end of the line. "Okay, thanks. Send me the file and I'll look into it." Bill hung up the phone and sat back in his chair. Letting out a slow sigh, he rubbed at his graying temples before straightening once more. Tapping a button on his phone, a curt female voice responded.

"Yes, sir?"

"Marcy, get me Section Chief Larson on the phone," Bill ordered. "It's urgent."

"Right away, sir," Marcy replied.

A minute later, Bill's phone buzzed and he picked it up. "Andy?"

"Hey, Bill," Andy replied. "If you're calling about Yang Feng, I've already been briefed. You wanna collaborate?"

"No," Bill answered gruffly. "This is your department. Just a read-in will suffice if you don't mind."

"A read-in?" Andy replied, sounding surprised. "That's your boy on the island with him. You don't want a say in how this is gonna go down?"

"Andy, I'm three weeks from retirement," Bill answered. "I'm old, fat, and tired. They're already talking about merging our departments to begin with. Might as well let you have full ride on this one."

"Alright, Bill. I got it. I'd still like to have you sit in on the extraction briefing all the same."

"Fine," Bill replied. "When?"

"Thirty minutes," Andy replied.

"So soon?"

"Washington wants our boy back and Yang in custody before anyone else beats us to the punch, Bill. They don't care about anything else."

"The Brit's aren't gonna like this one bit."

"Honestly, I could care less. That's our colonel on that island. As far as I'm concerned Feng is already in US custody. Washington agrees."

"Alright, Andy," Bill agreed. "I'll be there."

"Thanks, Bill. See you then," Andy replied before hanging up.

"God damnit," Bill mumbled under his breath as he rested his elbows on his desk, his head falling into his open palms.

Forty-five minutes later, the meeting was in full-swing. They'd already decided to go under cover of darkness to avoid prying eyes. The fact that tonight was a new moon added an extra blanket of security for the extraction team. Andy and his team was confident in their plan and was just about to put the plan in motion when Bill spoke up.

"What about the dinosaur?" Bill asked.

"What about it?" Andy asked.

"Are you planning on extracting it as well?"

"Why would we?" Andy asked, confused.

"Pull up the satellite feed from this morning," Bill instructed one of the analysts. "From the beginning. Now, watch," Bill advised as he rose from his chair when the video started playing. "Just after the rear wall explodes, keep your eyes on the treeline. There," he pointed. "That's the dinosaur sneaking into the village. How the hell an animal that size can move without being heard is anyone's guess but look at all the people on the island. No one gives any indication that they heard or felt the dinosaur approaching."

"Okay," Andy replied. "And?"

"Just bear with me," Bill assured him. All eyes in the room watched as the dino stopped just out of sight of the Chinese filing outside the walls before the hut exploded. They watched Jake approach the ruined hut before the women exited the debris. "There," Bill said. "See that?"

"It looked like he just scratched his beard, sir," one of the analysts replied.

"No," Bill corrected before mimicking the movement and a high-pitched whistle escaped his lips. "He was whistling. See? Immediately after, the dinosaur looked over the top of the wall. Jake points to the boat, looks back at the dino," Bill continued, giving a verbal play-by-play as the drama unfolded, "and the dinosaur takes off toward the boat."

"So, you think the colonel somehow has this dinosaur trained?" Andy asked.

"You don't believe me? Okay, fast-forward to the scene at the boat," Bill instructed. "We can't see much because of the tarp covering the boat, but my guess is the dinosaur somehow gets the guy firing off the RPG. Now, watch the colonel. See him whistle again? Now watch the boat. There's the dinosaur's head. Zoom out, please, so both the colonel and the dino are on the screen. Thank you. Rewind it back to the whistle. Good. Now play it from there. There's the whistle. The creature's head breaks the surface of the water and stares right at the colonel," Bill explained, looking at Andy.

"The colonel waves, see there, [waves] at the fucking dinosaur at it [comes to him]," Bill continued. "And if that's not enough to prove my theory, watch what happens next." They all watched as the dinosaur approached the man on the island. The man's hand reached out toward the monster. "See that?" Bill asked. "He's reaching out toward the monster. He's petting the damn thing."

"Okay, say I believe, you, Bill," Andy replied. "What's your point?"

"My point is," Bill replied with a smirk, "I'd be willing to bet my pension that the colonel isn't going to leave the island without his pet dinosaur."

"He has no choice," Andy rebutted. "He's a colonel in the United States Air Force. He has to follow orders."

"Not if he's dead," Bill replied with a smug smile and crossed his arms.

"What?" Andy asked. "What do you mean?"

"He was declared dead a week ago," Bill replied. "After his plane went MIA, an exhaustive search was conducted. Since they never found a body or even a fragment from the destroyed plane, Washington called it. For all intents and purposes, Andy, he's dead. I'm not so sure I'd want him to return anyway."

"Why not, sir?" another analyst asked.

"How many times have you all watched this feed?" Bill asked, rhetorically. "Specifically the battle between the women and the attackers? My guess is at least half a dozen. Now, by show of hands, how many of you focused your interest on the colonel during said slaughter?" Only one hand went up. "What's your name?"

"Jennifer, sir," the woman replied.

"Okay, Jennifer, what did you notice about the colonel while the battle took place?"

"Not much, sir. The feed is too grainy--"

"Forget the hazy details of the feed for a moment," Bill interrupted. "What can you tell me about the colonel's body language, his mannerisms, and his overall attitude toward the battle taking place?"

"Well, sir," the analyst began. "He seems almost nonchalant, like he doesn't even care that people are being dismembered right in front of him. I would even say he was cold and calculating, as if he is enjoying watching the men a die as they are cut up into pieces."

"Okay," Bill agreed. "What else?"

"I-I'm not sure, sir," the woman replied.

"Play back the feed to when the monster's head pops up from the water," Bill instructed. The room watched as the events unfolded. "Pause. There," Bill said with emphasis as he stood and pointed to a spot on the screen. "See that, sticking out the side of the monster's mouth? Looks like a leg, doesn't it? Now look at the colonel. He's just standing there like its a normal day at the beach holding Feng aloft like he's Simba in The Lion King, making the man watch as his people are killed in the most horrific way possible. That damned dinosaur is eating a man and the colonel looks like he's having the time of his life." Bill shook his head. "That's Jacob Blackburn, the man, yes. But that man is no longer [Colonel] Jacob Blackburn, USAF. That man is a ruthless killer, a man that I would [not] want to meet in a dark alley alone."

The room quieted.

"What are you saying, Bill?" Andy asked. "That we can't trust the colonel anymore?"

Bill was shaking his head. "I've read his file, Andy. I'm intimately familiar with it. Jake Blackburn is a happy-go-lucky guy who's greatest ambition in life is to fly fast planes and bed beautiful women. But through the facade of his Pete Mitchell persona, he's a guy that genuinely cares about people. The Jake Blackburn from the file I read would never allow something like that to happen," he said as he gestured to the screen. "Whatever happened to him on that island changed him. For better or worse, I can't say. But from what I'm looking at, I'm betting on worse."

"Do you think it has something to do with the women he's been, ah, you know..." one of the analysts asked, trailing off as his cheeks flushed.

"Fucking?" Bill finished for the man. "You can say it, son. That's pretty much what's been happening ever since we got eyes in the sky. It could be. The Jake Blackburn we are familiar with might still be there on the surface. However, deep down lies the heart of a man that would go through hell and back without batting an eyelash to maintain whatever convictions he found for himself on that island."

The room was silent as they pondered the implications of what they'd just learned. Finally, Andy cleared his throat and spoke up. "Let's just hope there's some measure of the man remaining and we'll be able to ascertain where his loyalties lie. In the mean time, let's get working on that extraction. I want a team ready to go by sundown."

The room broke into motion. As the analysts filed out of the room, Bill and Andy locked eyes for a few somber seconds before Bill nodded, turned, and left.

~ ~ ~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~ ~ ~

At the Secret Aviation Testing Facility five hundred miles off the coast of Savannah, GA, Lieutenant Commander James Malloy stood at the front of the briefing room waiting for the rest of his team to arrive. The team assigned to the extraction consisted of two squads of six members each, not including the commander himself. Seal Teams Four and Five were selected for this mission simply because they were the closest available and held the most amount of high security clearances. Precautions were still taken, however, to ensure the least amount of information leaked possible. For example, as the teams were flown in, they weren't privy to the location they were flying to, and all windows on the plane were blacked out to ensure secrecy.

The first team to arrive was Seal Team Five. Their team leader was Senior Chief Petty Officer Dylan Myles. Seal Team Four were right behind, led by Chief Petty Officer Gustavo Morales, or Gus for short. Dylan and Gus bumped forearms together as they greeted each other with wide smiles. Commander Malloy directed Dylan's team to the right side of the room and Gus' team to the left.

"Have a seat, ladies and gentlemen," the commander said. "No need for formalities today." Commander Malloy looked around the room as everyone sat. "Senior Chief, looks like you're missing a member," he commented.

"Yes, sir," Dylan replied with barely restrained smile. "Got a new poe. Said something he ate didn't agree with him so he's in the crapper."

Laughter echoed around the room. A minute later, Petty Officer Third Class Brett Johnson walked in and sat down with his team. "Sorry, sir," the petty officer apologized as he held a hand over his abdomen. "There must have been something wrong with the anchovies."

Laughter continued and the commander smiled. "You actually [ate] the anchovies from the plane, poe?"

"I like anchovies, sir," Johnson defended himself.

"Yeah, but those anchovies have been on that plane since Teddy was CIC," Gus joked, which caused more rounds of laughter from the room.

"Alright, settle down everyone," Commander Malloy said. "We're just busting your chops, poe. But do yourself and favor and [never] eat those anchovies again. We don't have a lot of time so let's get right into it."

He clicked a button on a remote and an image of an island popped up on the screen behind him. To the seals in the room, it was an unassuming island with mostly vegetation and a cap-rock volcano on the northwestern edge. On its eastern shore was what looked like a small village near the beach. On the beach, carved out in blocky letters in the sand were the words, CHINA YANG FENG.

"In case you haven't heard," Commander Malloy continued, "a little over two weeks ago, one Colonel Jacob Blackburn of the U.S. Air Force went missing somewhere in the center of the Bermuda Triangle." A picture of the colonel popped up in the upper left corner of the screen. "He was test flying the successor to the Blackbird on its maiden flight. Nothing of the wreckage was recovered, not even the black box. It's almost like it never existed.

"Two days ago," the commander pointed to the picture of the island, "this island randomly pops up on radar in the direct center of the triangle. No one can explain how or why. Since Bermuda is a controlled territory of the UK, Washington and London have been in constant communication about what to do about. That is, until this morning. Somehow, China learned of the island and beat us to the punch. They sent a team of twelve men to the island, presumably to 'rescue' the colonel in exchange for information about the SR-80.

"The colonel, along with three other women presumably already on the island, not only killed the Chinese, they slaughtered them to a man, with the exception of one Captain Yang Feng of the Chinese Imperial Army. Feng disappeared without a trace two years ago after being wanted by Interpol and the UN for war crimes against humanity."

One of Dylan's men raised his hand in question. After the commander nodded to him, the man said, "So, one man and three women killed eleven highly-skilled Chinese soldiers with no loss of life on their side? How?"

"Technically, Petty Officer Anderson," Commander Malloy answered, "the women were the ones responsible for the carnage, as you'll see here."

"Badass," one of the female team members, Petty Officer Rebecca Grimes, from Gus' team commented.

Malloy clicked another button on the remote he held and a paused video popped up on screen. "The colonel subdued Feng before the slaughter even started and watched it all while holding the war criminal like a rag doll. I warn you," he said as he looked at Petty Officer Johnson, "if you're in any way squeamish at the sight of blood and guts, you're not going to want to watch this."

All eyes were glued to the screen as the video played.

"Is that a fucking dinosaur!?" one of Dylan's men practically shouted when the monster came into view. Nobody answered as the video continued.

"Did he just..." Grimes asked when the dinosaur took off for the water.

"Holy fuck!" Johnson cried when the colonel subdued Yang Feng. "I didn't even see him move. Did anybody see him move?"

"WHOA!" the room collectively gasped as the women on the screen began to systematically dismember, and or disembowel the men in the area.

"What are those glowing things they're swinging around?" Gus asked.

Petty Officer Janice Owens from Dylan's team commented. "Bro, don't you read comic books? Watch movies? That's Wonder Woman's Lasso of Truth!"

"Looks like a Lasso of Death to me," another male on Gus' team commented as he watched a whip literally cleave a man in half from shoulder to opposite hip.

The video shifted toward the water as the last man died. Dylan leaned forward in his chair. "What are we looking at here?" he asked.

"Tarp," Gus replied. "See the edges are just a shade darker than the water. They use it to hide their boats from prying eyes from above."

"Clever," Grimes commented.

"Not much is visible from this angle," Commander Malloy cut in, "but look at this." He paused it when the dinosaur's head broke the surface of the water. "What's that look like to you?" He pointed to the monster's mouth.

"Is that... a human leg?" Gus asked.

"We think so," the commander replied. "How many of you paid close attention to the colonel throughout the scene?" The only two females in the room both raised their hands and smirked at each other as they turned back to the commander.

"Trust me, ladies," Commander Malloy chuckled. "He's got all he needs with those three."

"A girl can dream, though, can't she?" Grimes quipped and Owens giggled.

"Dream on," Anderson dryly replied.

"The point is," the commander interrupted, taking control of the conversation once more. "The colonel isn't the same man from his file. We need to be cautious around him."

"What's the plan, sir?" Dylan asked.

"At twenty-one hundred hours we board a chopper for the USS George Washington who is currently anchored a hundred miles from the island. From there, we board another chopper to the drop site. Frog suits and air tanks only. No propulsion assistance. Two miles from shore, we drop. We swim for a mile and a half, then go stealth beneath the surface for the remaining half mile. No radio communication, either. We're not sure how the triangle will affect it. The idea is not so much to sneak up on the colonel and his women, but to keep away from any other prying eyes that might be nearby."

"Are we expecting any kind of resistance, sir?" Gus asked.

"Not that we're aware of."

"Then why the need for two teams, sir?" Owens asked.

"Because of the unknown variables out of our control," Malloy answered.

"The dino," Dylan commented.

"Exactly," the commander replied. "While it appears the colonel has it tamed, we don't know that for sure. We're to operate on the premises that he does, but be wary of it attacking out of hand."

"What about the colonel himself, sir?" Johnson asked.

"I'm glad you asked, poe. While we're still not sure of the colonel's situation, we're to assume he's still friendly. The fact that he let us know he has Feng is a point in his favor."

"What's our end goal, sir?" Dylan asked.

"We get in, get Feng, the colonel and his women, and get out."

"Quick and easy," Owens said.

"Lemon squeezy," Anderson finished as the two high-fived.

"Dorks," Grimes commented with a laugh.

"Sir, if the colonel has that dinosaur tamed, do you think he'll leave it behind?" Petty Officer Knowles from Gus' team spoke up for the first time.

All eyes turned to the commander who wore an unreadable expression. "Would you?" he finally asked.

"Fuck no!" Johnson and Anderson exclaimed at the same time.

"Didn't think so," Malloy responded. "Our primary objective is Feng. If the colonel and his women refuse to extract, we leave them behind."

All heads nodded. "With no electronic equipment, how are we going to extract?" Gus asked.

"That's the trickiest part," the commander replied. "We're to commandeer the rowboat the Chinese stormed the island with. A Reaper will be monitoring from the sky. When it reads our heat signatures a mile off shore, it'll signal the chopper to come get us."

"Why not just commandeer the boat the Chinese came in?" Johnson asked.

"No way to extract from above and we have no idea how much fuel is aboard. Even if it does have enough fuel, it would take four to six hours to get back to the George Washington, leaving us visible to anyone at sea level. Any more questions?"

"Yeah," Owens piped up with a grin. "Can we stay on the island with the colonel? The way he just stood there while all that shit was going down was fucking hot."

"Mmhmm," Grimes agreed with a seductive twinkle in her eyes.

"Only if you wanna be tagged as AWOL come first light," Dylan answered with a roll of his eyes.

"Might be worth it," Grimes quipped and Owens giggled.

"Lock it up!" Commander Malloy barked and everyone straightened in their seats, the humor in the room escaping like warm air through a screen door on a cold day. "If there are no more [relevant] questions," he said with a stern expression to the two females, "let's get going. We've got a long night ahead of us to get this done before daybreak."

They all stood and made their way out of the briefing room. Owens came alongside Grimes as they walked. "I might have to change my panties after watching that," she commented in a low whisper so only the other woman could hear.

"Girl, you know it! Mine are soaked!!" Grimes agreed and the women laughed.

~ ~ ~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~ ~ ~

"Have you no shame!?" Yang Feng barked from his place hugging a piece of large timber jutting up from the ground. His hands and feet were tied around the opposite side of the log-- as if he were protecting the lumber from a menacing lumber mill crew-- securing him in place. "I do not want to see you rutting your women like a dog in the streets!" he yelled disgustedly.