In Danger and Under Fire

Chapter 2-2

A companionable silence reigned in the car as Mike drove. Kurt let his gaze rove across the landscape. It had been almost exactly two years since the two of them first met.

Kurt Halstead walked across the wide expanse of the courtyard on the Naval Amphibious Base, Coronado. He knew precious little about the officer he was supposed to be partnered with on some new ultra-high security team that completely reeked of black ops. Lt. Commander Michael Rousseau, Naval Academy grad, eleven years in Naval intelligence spoke five language fluently, two more enough to get by and had recently transferred from the U.S. Fleet Cyber Command in Maryland to the San Diego facility. Kurt had seen a two inch by two-inch personnel photo and it gave him just enough to recognize that Rousseau was the man standing with Admiral Lang near the entrance to the building. Halstead slowed his steps slightly, taking a few extra moments to assess Rousseau as he approached. A touch over six foot, blond hair cut in the traditional high and tight; Rousseau had a sharp, aquiline profile and the build of a long distance runner.

“Halstead!” Admiral Lang called out as he caught sight of Kurt.

“Sir.” Kurt sketched a salute. He was rusty, ten weeks involved in a covert op in Syria, and there hadn’t been any saluting going on over there.

Commander Rousseau gave Kurt a scathing head to toe scan and lifted an eyebrow. Gee, uptight and a prick, Kurt surmised. There had been just enough time to shower and change after his C-40 landed, returning him from the op. Digicams were all he had in the way of a clean uniform and he hadn’t had a chance to shave the three days’ worth of beard stubble either.

“Rousseau, this is Sr. Chief Petty Officer Kurt Halstead. Halstead, Commander Michael Rousseau,” the admiral said by way of introductions.

Rousseau held out a hand and they shook briefly.

“Let’s head to the conference room,” Admiral Lang continued. “We have quite a bit to discuss.”

That first meeting had led to a scary bad rescue mission. Halstead and Rousseau had been sent in along with a SEAL team to extract two Homeland Security agents that had been captured by the Al Qaeda. Both men had been tortured and one had not survived. The remaining man had been grievously injured, including losing a finger to a torturer’s knife. The body of the dead agent had been retrieved and brought back for burial. Kurt hoped their current op would guarantee that all the hostages made it home alive.

“You’re being quiet,” Mike said.

“I was thinking about that first rescue mission we did together.”

“I heard through the grapevine that Sterling made a full recovery. They put him in a handler position.”

“Oh? That sounds good. I didn’t know you ever followed up,” Kurt said.

“It wasn’t exactly intentional. I was going through some Intel on the recent Syrian unrest and ran across his name as the source. I ended up talking to one of his superiors, who then put me in touch with Sterling. He’s running a female operative that I worked with once, Maggie Degginger. “

“The anti-terrorism community is a seriously in-bred bunch. Sometimes I think all we do is trade people around between agencies and military branches. What a minute, did you say Maggie? As in the Maggie, the one you went on and on about that night we got wasted at that bar over on Coronado Island?”

Mike gave Kurt a grin. “Yeah, her.”