Cry Baby
There was a feel to GITMO, the short name for Guantanamo Bay, that most would never get a chance to experience. Tall metal fences topped with spiraled barbed wire rose from the caked earth like wardens of forgotten souls. Strategic guard posts hovered at corners and vantage points with armed guards at the ready.
It was the silence that bother Cry Baby.
Camp Delta, an over 612-unit detention site, housed camps one through six, and was denoted as maximum security. Military personnel traveled back and forth, their heads on a swivel, jerking back and forth, to maintain physical watch on the detainees. Some played soccer in recreational yards, while others prayed on mats for the midday. Danger and desperation, with a hint of rage, clung to the air. Here the worst of the worst were kept, but, like with anything controlled by humans, there had been mistakes.
Cry Baby felt a sense of this roll over his skin as they traveled in further, passed just a mile or so outside of Camp Delta, to the classified black site of Camp Seven. It went by many names, some commonly known, others not exactly assured: Camp No, Camp Platinum, or the Strawberry Fields. The alleged CIA site for high-level detainees. This was where they’d kept Abd Al Alim bin Abdul, and where he and the SEAL team, along with Tiffany, headed.
They’d been frisked, stripped of weapons, made sure they weren’t carrying any explosives or anything. Tiffany, thankfully, had thought about the extra security and had not worn a bra with an underwire. That would have required a deep frisk, and Cry Baby would have broken someone’s hand, protocol or not.
“Blindfolds on,” the guard told them.
Tiffany glared at him over her shoulder, but he shrugged. If they were going to see Abd, they had no choice but to follow the rules. She was surrounded by SEALs, killing machines without the need for weapons, and Tex had already coordinated with Trace for tap into the visual feed in the interrogation room. He rubbed her hand to sooth her, and then they all put on the hoods. The guards help directed them into the same windowless van the prisoners rode in to get to the camp. Cry Baby never understood the need for double-blindness, but he could see that in the event a blindfold fell off or was removed, the location would still be hidden.
He held Tiffany’s hand in his between their sated bodies as they rode along. Her elevated breathing worried him, and he wondered if she had any issues with claustrophobia. It wouldn’t be enough to stop her from working in the field, but it’d be something she’d have to watch out for. He tapped the inside of her wrists with steady, metered strikes until her breathing slowed and her heartrate went back to normal. By that time the vehicle stopped.
“Slide to the left, and exit in line,” the guard said.
Closest to the door, Cry Baby reached for the opening to orient himself, and then put Tiffany’s hand on his back as he stepped from the van. As they’d been briefed to do, they traveled in line, hand to the shoulder in front of them, into the facility and waited for the guard to removed their hoods. Cry Baby blinked against the sudden florescent lighting, until he saw a familiar face in front of him, and went to his knees.
“Heim,” Cry Baby whispered.
Heim, looking haggard but otherwise unhurt, approached him and gripped his shoulders. “On your feet, James. I’m okay.”
“How did you get here?” Wolf asked.
Heim squinted and scratched his jaw. “I’m married to the Master Chief Petty Officer of the Navy’s daughter, and this SIS agent had the Director of the SIS personally write to the unites States Special Operations Command. They released me as an asset, though the rest of the team is still detained. SIS sent me to assist with your mission. I’m a damn SIS asset,” Heim repeated, slack-jawed.
Cry Bab blinked at Tiffany. It wasn’t everyday he had contact with the United States Special Operations Command. They ran the special operations of the Department of Defense, and were the governing body they answered to. “You wrote to USSOCOM?”
“No, Chief wrote to General Raymond A. Gregory, the current Commander of USSOCOM. Be specific.”
“Vixen, you are fucking scary,” Heim acknowledged.
“I see they’ve explained who I am to you as well,” Tiffany said to him.
“Ah, yeah. That was about the time the Commander was bitching about the women in his SEAL team’s lives. From MCPON’s daughter, to world-renowned celebrity and activist, and now a top-tier SIS agent, he can’t get a word in edgewise, and he couldn’t take the credit for getting me sprung. We’ll be getting pounded in PT for the rest of the year, watch,” Heim said.
“How are the guys holding up?” Cry Baby asked.
“Snake is angrier than a fucking cobra, and ready to just break out and deal with the consequences, but I was able to keep him calm. For now, he’s good. Hawk has been communing with his Spirit Father and not talking to anyone, and Welsh has been spending same time trying to get introduced to Hawk’s Spirit Father.”
“And Glitz?” Mozart asked.
“He’s a bit worried, though he won’t say much. He was detained before he could get the check-in call from his cousin.”
“Need us to call her?” Abe asked.
Cry Baby snorted and clapped Abe on the shoulder. “No, we don’t need to call him. Big Boss is a member of the Republic of Korea Navy Special Warfare Flotilla, aka the Korean SEALs, and they check in with each other when they are both not activated on mission. If one doesn’t check in….”
“Then the other goes knocking, holy shit. What’s his MOS?” Dude asked.
“About that…let’s just say he’s Heim, on steroids, with a ridiculous record for longest shot under torrential wind conditions,” Cry Baby answered.
“Wait, you mean that Big Boss who won in the Interservice Rifle Competition?” Abe asked.
“Yeah, he got a special dispensation to compete because Heim bitched about it,” Cry Baby explained.
“And then he kicked your ass. Smooth one, man,” Mozart joked.
Cry Baby sighed, that would be another problem they may have to face, but right now they had to get serious. It was good to hear about his team, and know that they were alright, but until they got some sort of lead about who was betraying them, they couldn’t relax.
“This is my cue, fellas” Tiffany said. “Here’s how the interrogation is going to go. I’m going to go in, but Abd has issues with speaking directly to a woman about such matters. He’s warped his Islamic beliefs into fanatical extremes, and I am little more than an infidel. We will have Trace come in and take over for me when it gets too much.”
“Why not have Trace in from the beginning?” Cookie asked.
“Because sometimes you can get more from what’s not said and reactions than from actual words,” Tiffany told him.
“Then let’s do this,” Tex announced.
Cry Baby whirled at the voice, and Tex entered from a hidden door to the right of the room they’d been directed to.
“When did you get here?”
“About five hours ago. We had to get set up properly,” Tex explained. “We’ve got wo days of unrestricted access to the prisoner, but that’s it. We don’t get what we want by then we are removed from the black site, and our chance is gone.”
“Roger that. We’ll stay here on standby, and for any protection Vixen may need. If you need us to come in for any reason, lift two fingers into the air. We’ll see it and rush in,” Wolf explained. Then he tapped Cry Baby.
“What?” Cry Baby asked.
“If she doesn’t raise her two fingers, she isn’t asking for our assistance, you understand? We go in under blue status.”
Cry Baby bristled. There was no way in hell he’d wait until she was incapacitated to rush in if the prisoner did something to her. It only took seconds to die.
“Are you out of your—”
“That’s the plan, or I don’t go in,” Vixen argued.
“That’s dangerous and you know it.”
“But it’s my job. Sometimes they want to push my buttons and see how far I’ll go. Other times they think I’m weak and want to show me how strong they are. When I don’t break down and call for help, but beat them at their own game, it validates me. I’ve been doing this for years. Let me do my job.”
He knew she was right, but that didn’t make it easy for him to accept. He grit his teeth and forced his hands to unclench. Arguing with her, right now in front of the other SEALs would only belittle her skills, and tell her that he didn’t believe she was strong enough. He refused to do that. He knew what she could do, had fought and made love to her. He knew her skill and inner strength. He sighed and closed his eyes for a moment.
“You kicked my ass, you could kick his, easy. But you stay safe in there, or I’ll still paddle you when we get back home. I swear to God, Vixen. Quiera que regreses sano y salvo.”
“What does that mean?”
“Come back safe and sound,” he said.
“That’s so hot. Talk to me like that in bed later, okay?”
He choked on a laugh, and the SEALs joined him. But Tiffany was already walking out of the room, and into the lion’s den.