Chapter 4: Training

Thirteen Years Ago

United State Disciplinary Barracks, Fort Leavenworth, Kansas

Two weeks to the day later, Jake Kilbourne was taken from his cell to a section of the prison he had never seen before. It was empty except for a table and a chair and had two doors. His shackles were removed, and a large cardboard box was placed on the table. The MP said, “Your new clothes are in the box. Change out of your prison clothing into what is in the box. Put your prison clothing in the box. Take nothing else with you.” Then he stood against the door they entered and watched as Kilbourne changed into the clothing in the box.

Briefs, khaki pants, blue dress shirt, tan blazer, black socks, brown boat shoes - all in his size! Either the U.S. Army’s Corrections Command had his sizes or Jenkins had access in some other fashion. The MP stood there silently while Jake changed, and then pointed towards the second door. Jake walked over to it and grabbed the knob, surprised when it twisted easily, and the door opened. On the other side was Jenkins.

“Ready to go?”

Jake raised an eyebrow. He was on the verge of a sarcastic reply but decided not to push his luck until he was somewhere outside the walls. “Ready.”

Jenkins turned towards another door and said, “Let’s go.”

Jake followed the other man out the door, which led to a parking lot. As he climbed into the passenger seat of a blue Ford Fusion with government plates, Jake said, “How’d you know my sizes? The Army have my sizes?”

Ed snorted and laughed. “Hardly.” He held up his cell phone. “There’s a camera in the phone. I took your photo. We measured your dimensions from the phone and converted them to sizes.”

“Huh. Cool.”

Jenkins handed Jake the phone. “Here, take it. The only number programmed into it right now is mine.”

“Planning to track me with this somehow?”

“Jake, we don’t need this phone to track you. We’re the government, remember? We don’t need to put in a chip or lock a tracker on you. That stuff is ancient history. The National Security Agency has programs that can track you as soon as you start talking on the telephone, any phone, anywhere, fixed or mobile. The National Reconnaissance Office has satellites that can tell when you get a boner from a hundred miles up. If you decide to head for the tall and uncut, as you so eloquently put it, we can find you, and there won’t be any second chances.”

Jake shrugged. “So how does this work, whatever it is. How’d you get me out of there?”

“Jake, you’re still in there. You just died in prison.”

“Excuse me?”

Jenkins smiled. “You attempted to escape, and the guards had to respond. You died and were buried in the prison cemetery. It was a very moving ceremony.” He reached inside his jacket and handed over a small envelope. “Your new name is Samuel Wilcox.”

Sam opened the envelope and pulled out the contents. There was a driver’s license from Maryland, along with a birth certificate from Carbide, Idaho for Samuel Collins Wilcox. “Where’s Carbide, Idaho?”

“Doesn’t exist. That way nobody will ever show up saying they never knew you in high school.”

Sam nodded in understanding. That actually made a lot of sense. Somebody was always getting tripped up in the movies or books when they ran across somebody who was from their supposed hometown. “Tell me more about myself.”

Jenkins shook his head. “That’s going to be one of your first tasks. You need to build a background, a history. Then we can create the documentation.”

“Such as?”

“Such as the bank you use. We work in Beltsville, which is one of the Washington suburbs. Maybe you use EagleBank, or maybe Wells Fargo. Pick one and suddenly you will have a few years of history, deposits, withdrawals, checks, savings accounts.”

Sam blinked. “Wow! I have a checking account?”

“Don’t be so impressed. You also have credit cards you owe money on, just like every other asshole in the country.”

Jenkins drove the car from Fort Leavenworth to the Kansas City International Airport, a roughly half hour trip. Once there, they pulled up to the Southwest Terminal. Interestingly, at least to Sam, was that Jenkins simply pulled up to the terminal and parked. That was against the rules, as far as Sam understood them. You weren’t allowed to park in front of an airport terminal because of the danger of car bombs. Instead, Jenkins parked and got out, but left the car running. He motioned for Sam to get out. Meanwhile a different man came out of the terminal and got into the car and pulled out as soon as Sam had left the car. Sam followed Jenkins into the airport.

Jenkins sat down on one of the plastic chairs along the windows. He motioned for Sam to sit down next to him. “This is your first test. See that woman over there, the blonde with the two blue bags.”

Sam slowly turned his head to the left, finding the woman in the line to get her boarding pass and check her luggage. “Third from the front of the line?”

“Yes.”

Sam eyed her quickly. She looked to be in her late thirties, trying hard to look like she was in her late twenties. Medium height, brown eyes, average figure, professional pants suit, low heeled shoes. “And?”

“How would you kill her?”

“What?”

“Why do you think we got you out of prison? It’s to clean up messes. She works for Grumman and has been selling secrets to the Russians. The FBI would arrest her, and the CIA isn’t allowed to work inside the country. If she’s arrested the Russians will know we know about them. She’s on a flight from here to JFK, and from there is heading to Europe and on to Moscow. She’s a mess and your job is to clean it up,” said Jenkins.

Sam looked back at the woman, and then made a quick look around the room. Then he turned back to Jenkins and leaned back in the chair. “Forget it. Without time, preparation, and weapons, the only way I can kill her is to bull my way through the line and break her neck. I’ll have security on me before I can get out of the line. You might as well just take me back to Leavenworth and stick me in that hole in the prison cemetery.”

Jenkins smiled and nodded. “Follow me.” He stood and walked out of the terminal; Sam got up and followed him. Outside, they found the blue Ford waiting for them. They climbed inside, both in the back seat. The driver pulled away from the terminal.

“So, who was she? Does she really work for Grumman?”

“No idea. I just wanted to see what you would do.”

“Hell of a chance risking her life like that. What if I had actually done that?”

“You’d have been dead before you ever got out of the chair.” Jenkins opened his jacket and Sam saw a shoulder holster holding a small pistol. “So, tell me, what if she really was a traitor and you were assigned her removal? How would you do it?”

“No idea. I’d want to investigate her, find out her habits, her medical history, her address and location, where she worked. All sorts of things. I’d also need to make sure you weren’t bullshitting me and using me to get rid of your pregnant girlfriend.” Jenkins rolled his eyes at that but kept quiet. “I’d want to know if she had any security, and whether the job needed to be quiet or loud, something that looked like an accident or something that looked like a murder.”

The car pulled into a section of the airport that had a number of small hangars. They parked outside one of the hangars, and Jenkins and Wilcox left the sedan and walked through the open hangar door to where a small private jet was waiting. Sam followed Jenkins to the plane, and they climbed on board. A man in a pilot’s uniform pulled the stairs up and sealed the plane, and then went into the cockpit, closing a door behind him. A few minutes later the plane began moving.

“Now what?” asked Wilcox. “Where now?”

“Beltsville, Maryland. We need to start your training.” He paused for a second and asked, “Your ASVAB scores were extremely high, certainly at a level that would have gotten you into college. What’s with that? No college?”

“No money. You’ve seen my background. I got out of high school with the clothes on my back and the money in my pocket. Whatever cash my father left me when he died was used to pay my share of living expenses with my mother’s family. Even if I had gotten a scholarship to some college, who pays for room and board? Spending money? A car? The best deal I could come up with was join the Army and let them send me to college at some point.”

“Well, you’ll be quite capable of the additional training, much of which you will help to select. For instance, you speak Spanish.”

Sam shrugged. “Not great, but if somebody speaks it slowly I can usually figure it out.”

“So maybe we send you to school to learn it better. That might be useful.” Sam nodded. Jenkins continued, “Here’s something else. We need you to learn your back story, your personal history. If you have to tell somebody you are from Idaho, what happens if he says he’s from Idaho, too. How do you get out of that? Do you just out and out lie and let this guy know you’re a fake and he needs to be killed? Or do you know how to deflect the questions and move the conversation off you and onto something else. Maybe you need to know some history of Idaho.”

Sam nodded and smiled. “Sounds like something out of a bad movie.”

It was Jenkins’ turn to shrug. “It was out of In The Line Of Fire, with John Malkovich and Clint Eastwood. Malkovich had to kill two women in Los Angeles when he mentioned he was from one of their hometowns and she questioned him on it. It was part of how Eastwood caught him. Anyway, it’s better to know your backstory and know how to avoid problems like that. Your job is assassination, not murder, and definitely not bulk murder.”

The two men continued to discuss Sam’s future training the balance of the flight. From Kansas City to the small private airport near Washington took two hours. Once they landed, they taxied to a hangar and then inside. The engines were shut down, the door was opened, and the stairs were lowered. “Now what?” asked Sam.

“It’s been a long day, Sam. I’m going home.”

Sam opened his hands and gave a curious look.

Jenkins smiled and said, “Follow me.” Outside the hangar were a pair of blue Ford Fusions. Sam decided there must have been a special on blue Fords that year. Jenkins led him over to one and opened the door. He reached inside and found some car keys, which he handed to Sam. “Follow me. I’ll take you to where you can stay, at least for the time being.”

“Is there GPS in this thing?”

“Probably, simply because it’s a government car. If you’re planning on taking off, go for it. Even without the GPS, we’ll find you. You don’t know yet how to run away. We’ll catch you in a day or two and then you’ll be back to that prison cemetery in Kansas. Or you can follow me and make a new life for yourself. Your choice.”

Sam got into the Ford and waited for Jenkins to get into the other sedan, then followed him out of the airport. Fifteen minutes later they pulled into a small apartment complex. Jenkins parked and Sam pulled into the spot next to his.

“Good choice,” said Jenkins. He pulled a set of keys out of his pocket and led the way inside and up a set of stairs to the second floor. He unlocked a door to one of the apartments and led the way in. Once they were inside, he set the keys on a buffet cabinet in the living room. “Home sweet home.”

Sam looked around. He was standing in a small two-bedroom furnished apartment, but one without any artwork, books, or traces of somebody being present. From the living room he walked into the kitchen and found it was empty, as were all the closets. There was a bed in the larger of the two bedrooms, which opened onto the bathroom. The bed was made and there were some spare sheets and towels in the linen closet. He wandered back out to the living room, where Jenkins was waiting. “You guys provide apartments for all your employees?”

“For a little bit, anyway. Figure six months. After that you’ll know enough to be able to find a place of your own. In the meantime, start making yourself at home.” He handed over a credit card. “Here, don’t go crazy. We’ll be monitoring your spending. You go crazy and you’ll find accountants are even scarier than hardened killers! When I leave, bring the keys down to your car. There’s a suitcase in the trunk with some spare clothing and a laptop computer. You can buy anything you need on Amazon. Get some clothing more your style, some kitchen and bedroom stuff, whatever.”

“What do I say to the neighbors when they say hello?”

“Say hello back. That’s common courtesy. Otherwise, don’t say anything. Just go inside and stay there. Everybody here is a government employee and know to keep to themselves. Six months from now you can find your own place and have some sort of life. Right now, no.”

“So, if I go out and have a beer and meet somebody...”

“They have these new inventions. One is called a condom and the other is called a cheap motel. Try them, you’ll like them.” He turned to the door. “Come on, I need to get out of here.”

“Off to kill some bad guys?”

“Off to see the wife and kids. My wife hates it when I’m home late.”

After Jenkins left, Sam went out to his car, opening the trunk of the Ford and finding a single large suitcase. He took that inside and opened it on the bed. The first thing he noticed was a piece of paper with an address and a phone number. There was also a note saying, ‘9:00 AM, 20 min drive’. Under the piece of paper was a computer bag. He hefted it and it was heavy enough that it probably had a computer in it. Other than that, was just some additional clothing - a package of underwear with one set of briefs missing, a package of socks with one pair missing, three dress shirts, three pair of khakis, a blue blazer, and a pair of running shoes. A quick glance at the labels showed they were his size. He quickly put the clothing away, along with the suitcase, and took the computer bag and note into the living room. He opened the bag and pulled everything out, checking for hidden compartments or any Velcroed storage slots. There was a charging cord for the computer and another for the cell phone. A slip of paper had the codes for a WiFi connection; a second had the PIN for his credit card. Sam looked around and saw a remote control for the flat screen television on the wall; the WiFi was probably part of the cable package. He plugged the computer in and powered it up, but it was brand new, and he had to go through the setup procedure; it wasn’t filled with classified secrets.