3 - The Calvary
Becoming a Brigadier General at the age of thirty four was so rare that it was practically unheard of. Not for Thompson. He essentially fast-forwarded his process through the ranks with his unparalleled strategic operations. He was a major part of the reason the war only took five years and not ten or fifteen. No one came close when it came to planning and execution. Thompson strategized like his life depended on it, saving thousands and thousands of men in the process. Even now, as he heard the NSA drone on in the background, he still remembered the day he got promoted like it was yesterday. The heat of the war was still very much high so there wasn't exactly time for celebratory dispensations. It pretty much felt like the most important day in his life. He remembered retreating into his tent that day and dialling his wife on his burner phone.
“Brigadier General?” The shock in Alex’s voice was incredibly palpable when he delivered the news to her. “Oh my God, Tom!”
“Believe it baby.”
“My husband is a damn general.”
Thompson rubbed his forehead. “Technically it's just a one star general, so I don't think I'm ready to start using that word yet.”
“I don't care if it's zero stars. You're a General. I'll be damned if I don't call you that until I die.”
Thompson remembered shaking his head, a proud expression on his face. He and Alex would grow old into life and by the time he's ready to retire, he'll still be a general, hopefully a four star one.
“I have to go. I'm rolling out the guys and they don't exactly have the patience of your average human. I just called to tell you the news.”
“I'm proud of you, Tom.” Alex whispered across the phone. "I hope you always know that."
“General.” A faint voice cut into his now fading reminiscence. Before he could realize where he fully was and give a coherent answer, the voice had called again.
“General!” Jacob screamed this time around, jerking him into the full present. They were on their way into what seemed to be a warehouse. He didn't exactly remember the time they both got off the car but somehow, he's now walking. He wondered how long Alex was going to keep giving him memory gaps.
“The white house received a disturbing video ten days ago. It's from a terrorist group.”
“Any of the ones we know?”
“No, it's—” Jacob paused and then lowered his voice into a faint whisper. “Homegrown.”
They both walk into the shade of the warehouse and Thompson could smell the cement and concrete being used. Something about it transported him and not to a good place. Soon, they're both at the door and on their way into the spacious area.
“They call themselves The Calvary.”
“And we know to take them seriously because?” Thompson asked as they made their way further into the warehouse. Jacob seemed to know exactly where they were going and he didn't know how comfortable he felt about that.
“Because they kidnapped Doctor Emory Lincoln.”
Thompson frowned. “The Biologist?”
“Yes. They kidnapped him and threatened to kill his family if he didn't create some kind of biological virus. He's free and back home now with his family.”
“Which means he created it.” Thompson concluded.
“That's the assumption and we're not ready to take any risks yet. This is completely off the books because we're not trying to tip them off, but we need to create a black ops unit dedicated to going after them.”
Thompson began to realize where this was going.
“And you want me to join the unit?”
“No.” Jacob reached a tarp near the wall in the warehouse and pulled it off the floor. The space underneath the tarp revealed a large hole. A metal ladder is attached to the hole as well.
“I want you to lead the unit.” Jacob continued, before descending down the hole, knowing Thompson was watching him in disbelief.
“Well are you coming or not?”
Thompson watched Jacob disappear into the darkness and waited for a few seconds before he began to lower himself as well. Questions continued to swim through his mind as he grabbed hold of the metal rungs.
Words couldn't begin to describe the space Thompson found himself underneath the warehouse. It was a completely different aesthetic from the building under construction that he'd seen only a few minutes ago. The space was filled with state of the art chairs and tables, computers and a giant projector.
“What is going on?” He whispered, taking in the view. A small file is on one of the tables with nothing but a label stamped on it. Thompson moved closer to the file, squinting his eyes to read what's on the label.
The Shadow Command.
“We're creating a new unit of operations, Thompson. It's called the Shadow Command and I want you to head it.” Jacob replied. “This unit has just three people and as time goes on, we'll know if we need to add more or not.”
Thompson watched in surprise as Jacob roamed around the place. Soon a few headshots appear on the projector before him.
“Shane Emerson.” Jacob started, highlighting the first picture on the board—a young white man with brown hair, a square jaw and a rather curious glint in his deep brown eyes. “Top in his class at military school, trained in The Farm to become a CIA agent. You see where this is going, right?”
Thompson nodded and continued to watch in wonder.
“Hera Snow.” Jacob continued, highlighting the next picture—a young blonde woman, couldn’t be more than twenty-five. Unlike Shane, her sunken blue eyes indicate she'd seen a lot. “She's a Navy Seal. Her specialty is stealth and I cannot overemphasize how important that is in this command.”
Thompson studied the stats underneath the picture, wondering if he'll be able to work with these people.
“And the last one—” Jacob resumed, highlighting the last picture. “Aaron Johnson. He's the best programmer the FBI had to offer. He'll be in charge of the screens.”
Thompson's eyes lingered on Aaron Johnson, a handsome black guy with colored dreads. This shouldn't be hard at all.
“Sir, I'm not exactly sure what I'm supposed to do here.” Thompson finally said when he was beginning to find the words. “I'm not even sure I'm ready to step into something this deep at this stage in my life. I—”
“Tom. Let me level with you.” Jacob finally said, moving closer to Thompson. “I know what you're going through and I'm incredibly sorry to be the one to pull you out of it. You just got out of a war and came back to a tragedy. God knows you deserve every single element of rest you can get. But this is a terror threat. We could wake up to a desolate nation tomorrow if we're not careful. And that's what you're here to avoid.”
Thompson reclined into his chair. Maybe in an odd turn of events, this was what he needed. Maybe he needed something to distract him so he could stop thinking about his family's tragedy.
“What exactly do you need me to do?” He finally asked after letting several seconds of silence pass.
Jacob smiled. “Well it's a good thing you asked because I have a mission for you already.”
