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Robert Sinclair knocked vigorously on the front door. He waited politely for few minutes and than knocked again, much louder this time, again without any answer. "The hell with this" he muttered to himself as he cast a minor locating spell. When the answer came back he was unsurprised, "I should have figured, where else would he be. Hell, I'd be on the beach too if I owned this place."
Robert meandered down to the tidal pool where he found his Chief of Intelligence laying on the sand, basking in the sun. Per usual, Thomas was not alone. At his side were two young ladies, young enough that Thomas should have had the good grace to feel a little embarrassed.
Robert cleared his throat, "excuse me Tom, but could I perhaps have a few minutes of your time?"
Tom raised his sunglasses, "Oh Hi Robert, I was just, umm..."
"Yea, I'd like to umm too, but we have some team business to discuss."
Thomas Magnum's face fell, "Of course" he said ruefully. "Ladies I'm afraid that we will have to continue your lessons some other time."
"Oh Thomas," They said in unison.
"Sorry ladies, but business calls." He turned back to Robert, "This had better be good; those two were the runners up in the Miss Hawaii contest."
"Far be it for me to restrict your libido, but you signed on and I need you to do something for me. We need a medic and as hard as Emma want to be a member, she just doesn't have the training we need.
There is a recruit that I'd like you to check into. He looks very promising, but comes with some baggage that might disqualify him."
"Damn it Robert, you promised us a month off after that little excursion to Africa." The Mage just stared at Magnum as if asking, what the hell did you expect? Thomas sighed in surrender, "Just what kind of baggage does this guy come with," Thomas said scornfully as he took the print out from Robert.
"Well first off we have to wait for him to get jail," Robert said noncommittally. "But he's that good and I want the inside track on this guy."
Magnum's head shot upwards and his eyes went wide, "This keeps getting better and better."
"Secondly, we have to beat about two dozen other organizations who would just love to have someone with his proven skills. I don't have to tell you that he would probably be working against us if that happened."
"Anything else I should know?"
Robert grinned; "you'll have to take the Lear. Sean is in Montana getting the Hercules serviced. There's one more thing, and I've already cleared this with Xander?"
Thomas Magnum took the folder that his friend A. J. Chegwidden handed him. He glanced briefly at the 'Eyes Only "classification and raised an eyebrow, He already knew a lot of what it contained, but Thomas was more than a little worried about the risk the JAG was taking in showing it to him, "You sure about this A.J.?"
"If anyone asks, that folder never left my secure safe. Don't worry about it Thomas, this guy is finished in the military. He pissed on one of the President's personal projects and the only reason he isn't in jail for the rest of his life is that the rest of his team came down with a permanent case of amnesia. The best the Air Force could do was six months and a DD for conduct unbecoming."
Thomas read the DD214 carefully. When he'd finished the first page he let out a low whistle, "Damn, what's this guy doing in the Military? BA in microbiology, PhD in medicine, board certified in just about any surgical area you care to name."
"And an IQ that is off the scale." A.J interrupted. "I know Thomas I've read the file. His parents were killed by Islamic extremists on a visit to Israel. The kid quit his job the next day and signed up with the Air Force."
"It says here that he refused a commission in the medical branch, but took one based on his degrees as soon as he finished the basic military schooling." Magnum shook his head; "they didn't even send this guy to OCS?"
"Nope, he did the whole course via mail and promptly signed up for the toughest courses that the Air Force offers," A.J added. "He finished first in his class in Pararescue School. He served with the Red Berets for three years and promptly applied for pilots training. They refused his request because he was overqualified and currently filling a critical billet. That in turn pissed him off, so he applied to the one place they couldn't stop him from going."
"Delta force."
"You called it. He even had the gumption to make a deal with the Delta commander. He wanted to do sniper school and the HALO Course out of Brag. He was the honors graduate in both courses."
"Damn it AJ, what the hell is this guy doing in the brig?"
"Thomas, I wish I had an answer for you."
Magnum sighed, "I guess I'd better go ask him, want to come along for the ride?"
"Why the hell not," Admiral Chegwidden said, "Tiner," he bellowed in his most SEAL like manner.
A lanky, dark haired yeoman entered the room, "Yes sir?"
"Tiner, I want you to cancel all of my afternoon appointments and reschedule them for Monday. Also, Inform Commander Rabb that I will be out of the office till then and that he has the duty."
"But sir?" The Yeoman stammered briefly.
"That's it Tiner, you're dismissed."
The black and gold Gates Lear Jet touched down on the Auxiliary air strip that was down the road from the high security detention center. The civilian plane was allowed to land on the military base because they knew that the current Judge Advocate General was onboard.
The pair was met by a slightly disheveled Major who thought that Friday night duty would be a breeze, only to have his expectations smashed by the unexpected arrival. He put his best face forward and saluted the Admiral, "Welcome to Leavenworth sir."
"Thank you Major. We're sorry to intrude unannounced but we'd like to see one of your detainees." A.J handed the Major the Captains file.
The startled Major's eyes went wide when he saw the name. "Sir you realize that he's in maximum security."
"Given the training he's had, I'd be surprise if you kept him anywhere else, just make it happen Major."
The Major saluted smartly, "Yes Sir."
The cellblocks were laid out in a star like pattern. There was a central security station where A.J and Magnum had to sign in. The guard looked at their orders and nonchalantly said to the other guard, "Take them to Delta, cell two. Be careful," he added, this guy put two other prisoners in the hospital."
The second guard grabbed the master set of keys and headed down the cell blocks, "Ok Sarge, if you gentlemen would follow me please."
The cellblock was, to be generous, Spartan, the man inside even less so. At 5 10 and 189 pounds he was lean. There was a look of contempt in the frigid blue eyes that sent a chill down Magnum's back. "Open it up please."
"Sir I must warn you, this detainee is very dangerous. We put a couple of hard cases in there and he sent them to the hospital with broken bones."
The hard cases, pretty arrogant weren't they?"
"Yes sir. This bastard broke bones and then set them before the medics got here."
"How about it Captain Howser, if I show a certain level of respect?"
"It's your dime."
"Yes it is." Magnum turned back to the guard, "That's ok son, open it up. I think between the two of us we can handle the Captain if we have too." When he saw the glint it the prisoners eye he added, "Do me a favor son, give admiral Chegwidden your pistol,' He turned back to the cell and added, "Just in case."
The cell door opened and Magnum stepped inside, shutting the door behind him. A.J stood sentry outside of the cell.
"Mind if I sit down, this could take a while."
"Sure why not. I don't have anything better to do till chow time."
"You're a cocky son of a bitch aren't you?" Magnum waited for an answer. All he got back was an icy glare. "I suppose if I had your qualifications I'd be cocky too... Hell, with the job I'm gonna offer you, cocky is the least of your worries. Here's what I'm offering son."
"I AM NOT YOU SON."
Magnum knew he'd made a mistake the second the word son came out of his mouth. "No," he said softly, "You aren't. And I apologize. It's just the way I talk. I know what happened to your parents but?" there was a long pause, "I also know what you did about it."
Magnum decided to plow through, ignoring his own gaffe, "You and your team specialized in the Middle East area of operations; you were deployed there 15 months ago to monitor PLO and Hezbollah. Now the timeline isn't precise, but some how you found that the PLO was responsible for your parent's deaths and you took revenge. Four rounds, all head shots, all fired from over a thousand meters, I'd call that impressive shooting if it wasn't so god dammed dumb."
Captain Howser sat there glaring at Magnum.
"Now here's the reality; by killing the PLO Security Chief and his goons, you pissed in the President soup and his plan for Middle East peace went up in smoke. The only thing that saved your ass is that your team took the bullet for you. Not one of them would testify against you and it cost them dearly. Know how many of them are still in the Army?"
Captain Howser shrugged.
"None? they were all retired and their chances, along with yours, of finding a decent job in civilian life are practically zilch. The president and his party have a very long reach and the word is already out on you and them."
The icy glare changed to one of anger. "They didn't do anything but cover my ass."
"I know that?" Magnum sighed, "You have three weeks till they release you. Here's the deal, I need a doctor and I need one that can operate under the worst sort of conditions. What I'm prepared to offer you in five grand a week plus bonus. I'll have your record expunged and when you're finished you can go back to doing what you do best, be a Doctor." Magnum knew he almost had the man, Robert will be pleases he thought, Time of the kill, "As an extra incentive, I can arrange for the black listing of your team to be nullified."
"What's the catch?"
A hint of a smile crossed Thomas's face. "The catch is that you'll be doing the dirtiest kind of jobs; Search and Rescue that the Parajumpers wouldn't even consider. You won't get home much but the bonuses will leave you a very rich man if you survive the five year contract."
Howser nodded along with Magnum's words. There wasn't much more that he could hope for. Never one to waffle he spoke up, "You know you aren't the first ones to make me an offer?"
"I'd assumed as much. CIA? NID?
"Both? and something called Section One, How'd you know?"
Magnum made a quick mental note about the last one before he replied. "We all travel in similar circles. Ok Captain, the difference between them and us is that with us you will be able to sleep nights and look yourself in the eye in the morning. That's the best I can offer."
"What are the other options?"
"The way I see it, none! Sure you can get out of this place and sell your talents, but let me ask you this, why did you become a doctor? If your answer is anywhere near what I think it is, then the other groups that are willing to hire you will leave a bad taste in your mouth. We are offering you a chance to make a difference in a positive light. A chance to heal those that need it and a chance to kill those that truly deserve it, the choice is yours."
Captain Douglas Howser, MD, USAF, thought long and hard about it. The last few years HAD been about pain and anger, would his mother really approve of what his life had become? "If I'm interested, how do I contact you?"
Magnum grinned, he had him and he knew it. "Someone will be here to meet you when you are released. If you change your mind, then have a nice life and don't let our paths cross on the wrong side of the fence."
Magnum dialed his cell phone, "Robert, it's Magnum, he's ours, he might not know it yet but he is? We will probably have to bribe the Republicans but that shouldn't be that difficult. Call Mr. Samms, I'm sure he will know whose buttons too push."
"Have Sean meet him here when he gets out and we can ship him to Sunnydale for the Commander to meet. No I'm not coming right back? I have a few friends in Vegas that I'd like to visit, their names?"
Magnum laughed out loud, "Mainly Franklins? See you on Monday or maybe Tuesday if I get lucky."
Magnum tossed the cell phone on the seat, "How about it A.J, up for a little Vegas fun?"
Fort Leavenworth Detention Center
Douglas "Doc" Howser stood on the brink of freedom. The last three weeks had been very quiet for the 26 year old soldier, right up until that morning. They had come for him at 0530 and he'd had to sit through several hours of out processing that struck him as a waste of time. The only things that surprised him and the Airman that was doing the paperwork was that he was issued a final paycheck. The second thing shocked the Airman so much he had to make a comment.
"Captain I don't know what angel is sitting on your shoulder but this is the first time that I can remember that anyone's left this place with an Honorable discharge."
Doc Howser was completely mystified on that little detail himself. He had his suspicions but he wasn't going to let that little fact be known, "It comes from living a clean life and making the right friends I guess."
"Well sir, I think that's it. You've been paid for all outstanding time including all your accumulated leave. The only thing I have left is a letter that is to be delivered to you. The airman handed Doc a heavy paper envelope with the words Douglas Howser written in a find script on the surface. Doc took the letter and jammed in into his pocket. "If that's it show me the way out of here."
Sean O'Malley waited at the entrance of the detention center. He'd been given strict orders that he wasn't to try and influence the new recruit in the least. that it had to be a choice freely made. "The hell with that," he'd said, "Six months in the clink and any man deserver a taste of gods own best," Referring to Irish whisky of course.
When the young captain finally appeared, Sean was a little set back; this kid isn't even old enough to shave properly. "Captain Howser, I presume?" he tossed the flask of filched whisky to him anyway.
Doc caught the flask without even thinking about it. "And you would be?"
"Well lad, therein lies a story. Before I be telling it, I have to know if you've decided to accept my bosses little offer? I was told that there would be a letter waiting for you that would explain everything."
Doc dropped his bag and dug the letter out of his pocket. "Guess this is it, haven't even read it yet."
"Well lad, don't be letting that thing burn a hole in yer pocket. Frankly this place gives me the creeps and me throat is a wee bit parched."
Doc eyed the ruddy faced Irish man then tossed the flask back to him, "Your drink Mr.?"
"O'Malley, Sean O'Malley. Don't mind if I do."
"Well Sean O'Malley, you drink while I read and then we can trade off." Doug ripped the letter open and began to read.
Dear Captain Howser,
As you can seen we are men of our word. Consider the Honorable Discharge a signing bonus. If you call your old teammates you will find that they have suffered a reversal of the poor luck they have been experiencing lately. This we have done in good faith that you will see that we offer you a better life than what you have been living.
You will be met by one of out pilots and he will have your next destination in hand. Good luck.
Thomas Magnum
Doc carefully folded the letter up and put it back in his pocket. He stuck out his hand, "You can call me Doc, everyone does, and I guess you have me. What's next?"
Sean wiped his lips and capped the flask. "Well Doc, first we finish the whisky, which I might add I stole from Robert. Not that he'd mind all that much, but we have to get ride of the evidence."
"Second, we have a flight out of Kansas City for San Diego. We have a new toy to pick up there."
Doc grabbed the tossed flask. He was surprised by its lack of weight; the redheaded Irishman had drained at least half the bottle. He uncapped it and took a deep gulp of the fiery Irish whisky.
"I like it so far," Doc commented, "But what's the new toy?"
"Well Boyo, your records show that you're rated all the way up through commercial and instrument, ever fly a Herc?"
"Legally, no, But I have about 80 bootleg hours in the MC-130."
"Then finish the whisky," Sean grabbed the heavy satchel that had been sitting at his feet, "We have a lot of reading between here and California."
The flight between KC and San Diego was a long one, but the pair didn't notice the time passing, they were both engrossed in the hand written flight manuals that Sean had brought with him.
"I can't believe this thing;" Doc exclaimed loudly, "Carbon fiber skin that lightens the plane by twenty percent, New engines that have been uprated by seven percent. And they added radar absorbent paint. This thing must have the radar cross section of a duck."
"And that's not it by half; check this out lad, all the instruments have been replaced by multifunction devices. GPS that's accurate to one foot. This damn thing could fly itself; I don't know why in blue blazes they need us!"
"Someone has to put the gas in it."
Sean chuckled loudly, "Good one lad." Sean turned the page to the schematics and let out a low whistle, "they've penciled a mobile operating theater for the bulk head station behind the cockpit."
"Doc reached over, "Let me see that."
It hadn't taken the pair long to get from the civilian air port over the former military base, Sean hadn't even bothered renting a car, he didn't plan on being there that long. The were met on the ramp by an Air Force Captain, "I don't know who the hell you two are but how the hell did you get Jon to sell you this bird, half the shit on it is still classified.?
"Ah a man after my own heart, and an Irishmen if me ears don't mistake me, Sean O'Malley." All he got back was silence, "Well Boyo, when yea has something the other guy wants, Yea make a trade, that's how we got it." Sean' voice took on a menacing tone, "Now are you gonna be a rude cuss or are we gonna have to kick yea arse all up and down the flight line?"
Colonel Patrick 'Muck' Mclanahan would be the first to admit that he wasn't a brawler in any class, no his specialization was bombing assholes like this back into the Stone Age, but for some reason this mick, who looked like he'd just stepped out of a Dublin pub, raised the hackles on the back of his neck.
Violence was avoided when two men stepped out of the line shack, the first was older and had a full head of graying hair and had a look of complete confidence about him. His companion was the total opposite; He looked even younger than he really was. He was short where as the older man was a good six inches taller than he was.
"Hey Patrick, let me introduce you to Terry Powell."
Muck cut the young man off, "Jon, what the hell is going on. These two say they are taking the Herc."
The direct approach stunned the young man who owned and ran Sky Masters. "List Patrick we made a trade and the Herc is part of the deal."
Patrick glanced at the three intruders. He grabbed Jon's arm and drug him down the flight line, "damn it Jon we have a shit load of time and money invested in that bird. The Air force is just about to but fifty of them and you trade it away."
That's enough Patrick, "Jon said, showing more backbone than he usually displayed, "I'm more than willing to trade a couple of million dollars for a patent that will make us a couple of billion, now shut up and get with the program."
Patrick shook his head in frustration, "Seventy million dollars is not a couple million. What the hell did you trade for?"
"A crystalline armor that could revolutionize how airplanes, hell how all vehicles are made," Jon replied crisply, "Let it go Patrick," He added.
Much wasn't the only one getting his ass handed to him, and Terry wasn't as polite about it as Jon was; God Damnit Sean, cant you last fifteen fucking minutes without antagonizing some one. A simple fucking pick up and you have us standing here on the brink of world war three."
"The bloody Air Force puke was looking for a fight."
"Hey," interjected Doc, "I was an Air Force puke too."
"It's alright Doc, so was I, then I learned the error of me ways." Sean's eyes darted between the two men, "Well where are me manners? Terry, let me introduce you to Doc Howser, he's one of the medicos that Roberts been looking for. Now normally I avoid doctors like the plague, but he's rated and he likes Irish whisky, so he can't be all bad."
Terry just couldn't sustain the anger he was feeling, no one could in the presence of Sean's warped sense of humor. He shook his head, "Well I can't say that Kevin didn't warn me. "Just get in the plane and get it home Sean."
The next fifteen minutes were a little tense. The tension between the two Irishmen was still there but it was tempered by the continued presence of their respective bosses. The group walked over to an old hanger that still had the faded words Fighter Town USA painted across the face. The doors opened slowly to reveal the object of dissention.
At 98 feel in length and a wing span of more than 130 feet, The Hercules can by no means be seen as small, but painted in the black radar absorbing paint this one seemed to be about the size of a small house.
"Holy Mother of God," Sean's words seem to articulate exactly what Doc was feeling.
Doc slipped into technical mode, "they replace the canopy.
"Yep," Patrick said, "the rails of the old greenhouse canopy were about nine percent of the radar projection, so the one piece unit cleaned that up nicely. It's armored as well."
"Hrruump, Sean said grumpily, "Lets see what else the old girl has."
The next hour was spent going over the new bird with a fine tooth comb. Sean was secretly please that they had left the sponsons for long range fuel tanks in place and was even more surprised to discover that the mounting points for the rocket assisted take offs were still in place.
"Well Lads, Yea've done a find job of it? But there's one thing missing."
"What's that Sean? The question came surprisingly enough from Doc.
"She needs a name Boyo. Its bad luck to fly without a name." Sean spotted a can of spray paint on one of the work stands and in broad strokes of red paint he added two words to the side of the Herc. "Given her job, that's perfect."
The first new airplane of the Kine forces and been christened, Two words now stood proudly on the side of the Hercules, DOC WAGON.
Doc smiled boldly, I can live with that."
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