Noble Beginnings by L.T. Ryan Read Free Book Online Page B

anyone.
Don’t talk to anyone. Don’t talk at all. Got it?”
    I nodded.
Didn’t look to see if Bear did or not.
    He continued.
“At Arrivals turn right toward the North Terminal. Continue past the baggage
claim and head outside. A van will be waiting for us.”
    I wondered why
he talked to us like equals instead of prisoners.
    “If something
happens, and we get separated, you meet us at the van,” he said. “If we find
you anywhere other than the van or on your way there, we have orders to shoot
to kill.” He paused, his eyes batting between the two of us. “Can I trust you
guys for a few minutes?”
    “Yeah,” I said.
    He nodded at
one of the others, who then removed our handcuffs. “Let’s go.”
    We followed him
through the terminal, down the escalator and into the train. We sat in the
back. They stood in front of us. The train stopped at terminal A. We all exited
and followed the signs to the escalators that led to the empty Arrivals gate.
It seemed that nobody had any loved ones arriving that early, or maybe they
just didn’t care at four a.m. We passed the baggage claim and walked through
two sets of tinted automatic doors, coming to a stop outside.
    The air felt
cool and refreshing. Orange light flooded the sidewalk and six lane divided
road between the building and the parking garage. A dark van with tinted
windows idled nearby.
    One of the men
pointed and went over to it and opened the back door. He gestured toward us,
and Bear and I followed and got inside.
    “Middle row,”
he said.
    We sat in the
middle. I didn’t recognize the driver. He must have been waiting in the van the
whole time. One of the men joined him up front, in the passenger seat. The
other three sat in the row behind us. The van pulled away from the curb,
followed the curved airport road and merged into the early morning traffic
heading northbound on I-85.
    *
* *
    Half way
through Atlanta we merged onto I-20, heading east. After leaving the city, the drive
felt long and pointless. Our escorts didn’t talk. We had no idea who they were.
No names, ranks, or affiliations were given. Although, I had a feeling these
guys were CIA.
    When I tried to
talk to Bear, it was met with a command to shut up. I resigned myself to
staring out the window at the redundant scenery.
    Darkness faded,
and the gray clouds gave way to the rising sun. The sun painted the sky shades
of orange and red. The sight held me captive for half an hour.
    I leaned
forward and stuck my head between the driver and passenger seat. “Where are we
going?”
    The man in the
passenger seat turned his head to look at me and said nothing.
    I sighed, sat
back.
    We reached
Florence, SC around nine a.m. I asked if we could stop for breakfast. We
didn’t. Instead, we merged onto I-95 northbound. I hoped that meant we were
heading to Camp Lejeune. I feared it meant we were heading to Langley, which
would be bad.
    Our CIA command
was held deep below the Air Force base. We’d be under their command down there.
    Camp Lejeune
was located on the coast of North Carolina. It was home to several Commands,
including the Marines Special Operations Command, and was often used for
amphibious assault training. Camp Lejeune also served as our unofficial command
under Colonel Abbot. We weren’t stationed there, though. We weren’t stationed
anywhere. However, we did have to report quarterly if we weren’t on an extended
deployment.
    I leaned
forward again, looking at the driver and then the passenger.
    “Where’re we
going?”
    The man in the
passenger seat turned his head. “Lejeune.”
    “That’s where
we were heading, anyway. You guys saved us the cost of a rental.”
    He turned away.
Said nothing.
    I sat back and
took a deep breath. Only one thing bothered me.
    “Lejeune,” I
said to Bear.
    “Yeah,” he said
then paused for a moment. “Brig’s there.”
    That’s what
bothered me. The Marine Corps Brig was located there, and it was capable of
housing up to 280 inmates.
    *
*