Golf India Juliet: The Cobra Insurgency

Scarlett

     Shana O'Hara entered the gates and spoke with Hamid her security guard as he closed the heavy iron fence behind her. The old guard had been here for as long as Scarlett had been deploying to Yemen. She entered her small apartment and removed the hijab that kept her long red hair hidden from view. She had lived in the Arab world for so long she had acquired quite the collection of the scarfs. As a Agency Case Officer she was afforded a cover and a inconspicuous living arrangement in the middle class part of town. She sat at the counter and opened the letter that was addressed to her cover name. The letter came through a third party Agency mailing address and was a month old. The letter was from an old friend from her Army Intel days. His name was Blaine but everyone called him Mainframe. The letter explained in very vague terms that Mainframe had discovered that there was a coverup inside multiple intelligence agencies and possibly a hacked communications systems. The letter was brief but laid out in broad strokes something that Scarlett had suspected but could never visualize. She and her intelligence friends had speculated for years that there were holes in the networks and many times information would slow to its destination or disappear all together. The expanse of the conspiracy was too large to comprehend. The letter ended with a meeting time and a coded destination that only she would recognize. She commited the information to memory and burned the letter in her sink. Her head spun with questions, this was the biggest thing she had ever encountered in her career. She sat down at her laptop and sent an email requesting a short leave to visit headquarters in Virginia. The early visit wasn't uncommon for her position and would not raise any suspicion.

     Scarlett lay awake in her bed, the tv was a talking head on one of the news stations. Something about China becoming an increasing threat to the West's economic domination. She could not avoid the turmoil her mind created. If the information Mainframe hacked was even partially true the implications were far reaching and terrifying. The very foundation of the Republic was potentially at stake.

     The morning prayer began outside on loudspeakers. Even though her mission was to hunt the evil that hid among these people she never let that temper her appreciation of the ancient language or their customs. She followed along with the melodic verses of the quran before rising and preparing for her journey.

     Her phone alerted her to the arrival of her driver. She took one last look around before leaving. Alex her driver was waiting just outside the gated walls. Hamid her security had already cleared the street. She waved at the older man and jumped in the front seat with the driver. Alex had been a officer in the Yemeni Army before the civil war. Now he was an asset that drove and provided security. She asked how he and his family were and they exchanged small talk on the way to the airport. His English was beginning to improve, she practiced with him daily. Alex had taken two left turns which was odd. He then explained a motor bike had been behind them since they left the safe house. She glanced back to see that there were two riders on the bike. "Lose them." Scarlett said and immediately felt the acceleration of the small auto. Pedestrians and traffic were a blur outside her window. The motorcycle was lost down a tight road with alleys on both sides.

     Turning back onto one of the more heavily travelled roads traffic became thick as business and commerce began their day. Hawkers tapped on the windows selling anything imaginable. At the crossroad Alex was able to move past the traffic and once again start toward the airport at a safer speed. Scarlett's mind drifted to her meeting and how important it could be. Mainframe was not one to exaggerate or joke about such grave matters as this. Alex down shifted, jarring Scarlett from her thought. The engine whined and the car banked as she spotted what had alerted Alex. The enemy was kneeling in front of the motorbike with what appeared to be a RPG aimed at her vehicle. She cursed herself for allowing this to happen, as if she had some control over others actions. Scarlett was transfixed on the threat, the normally crowded street was thinning as pedestrians realized they were in the middle of an ambush. The rocket made a loud whooshing sound and white smoke obscured the attacker. Scarlett could only stare in slow motion as she saw the projectile burst open and three smaller objects launched forth. They reminded her of toys that she had seen children playing with on TV. The drones were making a straight line toward her vehicle. The first object skipped off the ground under the car before detonating. The explosion was muffled slightly by the armor on the vehicle. Scarlett felt the impact and the vehicle swayed as the concussion pushed against the car. The second and third blasts lifted the car into the air and spun it like a toy. She and Alex were tossed and jostled inside as the car came to a rest on its top. Scarlett had been in life and death situations before and her training and experience took over. She checked herself for injury and found she had a small cut on her scalp that was leaking blood into her left eye. She then moved to Alex who seemed to be okay and was nervously making ready a Kalashnikov rifle. She looked past him and saw the enemy approaching. Alex unbuckled himself and fell onto the roof of the car. He then opened his door and screamed in Arabic for Scarlett to run.

     There was no time for emotion Scarlett knew he was doing his job and she had to push away her natural instinct to fight, and make the meeting with Mainframe. She unbuckled and opened her door that was now upside down and hit the ground running. She heard a short exchange of gunfire behind her and once again thanked Alex for his bravery.  She had long ago established a routine wherever she was stationed.  She would run routes around her area of operations. This habit kept her in shape as well as taught her the lay of the land.  She knew there was a emergency safe house four blocks away from her current position.  She pumped her arms and her stride lengthened as she sprinted in the general direction of the Agency house.  The shops and markets gave way to a residential part of the city that was much less populated.  The gray and brown brick buildings were a blur as she raced by.  Half a block away she slowed and began to surveil the area.  Immediately she saw the two men squatting across the street drinking soda from glass bottles, their motorcycle propped against a light pole.  She realized that both were wearing red face masks that were pulled down to allow them to drink.  During the attack the masks had been pulled over their faces like balaclavas.  Scarlett turned and ducked down an alley.  The smell of trash and human waste filled the air as she hurried down the tight street. How did they know the location of the safe house?  She wondered as she avoided holes in the street.  She had left her phone in the vehicle, she cursed herself.  She made her way into a cafe that was filled with locals.  Every head turned when the sweat soaked white lady entered.  Scarlett smiled and made her way to the man behind the counter.  She adopted the sheepish lost tourist mannerism that had worked for her in the past.  In purposely broken Arabic she nervously asked to use the phone.  The manager looked annoyed but hooked his thumb toward the ancient phone on a small table behind the counter.

     She dialed the emergency number from memory.  The operator answered on the first ring.  After authentications she was instructed to move to a new location and wait for an extraction team.  She decided she would not wait at the location.  She would get a taxi and stay mobile until the team arrived.  She couldn't trust the networks or the Agency.  Communications were compromised and the events of the day had cemented the new reality.  The most technologically advanced country in the world was at the mercy of some hacker terrorists.

     She lost track of how many times they had circled the rendezvous site.  The cab smelled of cigarettes and cheap cologne.  The driver had a German techno song on repeat and the beat was giving Scarlett a headache.  She saw the white van and the chase car.  The security team was expecting her to be in a small house off the main street.  She had to be careful on her approach for fear of getting shot by her rescuers.  She tossed the taxi driver a wad of cash as she stepped from the dilapidated Toyota.  She removed her hijab allowing her long crimson hair to blow in the arid wind.  The spy held the scarf out as a makeshift flag as she approached the security team.   The four contractors surrounded her, and in a practiced manner ushered her into the van.  Before the door was completely closed she felt the van accelerate.  Scarlett could hear the passenger speaking quietly into a radio.  Someone handed her a bottle of ice cold water.  Her mind spun with the thoughts of the recent events.