Chapter 21

In another complex located deep under the Rocky Mountains of the northern United States, people sat staring at video monitors viewing the raw data streaming in from various spy satellites.

Ever since 9/11, the US Military and other secretive US Government Agencies had decided that it would be prudent to watch the Canadian bush for terrorist camps and staging areas. Recently the co-ordinates of an old decommissioned Canadian secret underground installation had been suggested as a possible terrorist training camp. The suggestion had come from one of the few American operatives working in the Canadian government.

There was only one satellite whose orbit covered the section of northern Canada where the M2 complex was based, thus coverage would be thin with long gaps between viewings. The viewers hardly noticed the gaps as they watched so many different satellites' incoming data.

"I have something that you're going to want to see for yourself, Sir."

"What is it Captain?" asked the Major.

"Something is going on at the site you added to the lists recently, Sir."

"Captain we have hundreds of sites of interest! Please be more specific!"

"Oh! Sorry Sir. The site in northwestern Canada."

"Ah!" said the Major. His interest peaked. "Like what?"

"It's hot, Sir. As if it's burning."

"You're sure?"

"Yes Sir. Please, have a look for yourself."

Exasperated but interested now, the Major said, "Oh all right. What eyes do we have on the area?"

"Only that old satellite that was used to cover Siberia, Sir. So there are just the standard still photographs."

"Well, let's have a look."

"How is it that they got away from you? This cock-up of yours has lost us a lot of money, not to mention the loss of that complex and we were running this as a fundraiser. You lost it all!" said the Director of 'The Hamper' heatedly.

[Deep inside of the CSIS (Canadian Security Intelligence Service) exists a group of "dedicated and patriotic" men and women. Actually, they are sick twisted people, who desire to be 'the power behind the throne.' They believe that the end justifies any means.

'The Hamper' is the name that they have given to themselves as a sort of inside joke. It's a reference to all of the black ops (read that as dirty operations) run by the group.]

"What happened to the people that you were going to use as scapegoats?" continued the Director of The Hamper.

"We didn't lose them! They died in the explosions

"If any had survived the destruction of the complex they would have tried to make contact with us. After all, they didn't know that we were going to betray them. I have teams checking the area as we speak, just in case."

"Well, just what happened, then?" asked the Director.

"From all reports, something triggered the complex's self destruct system and that set off all of the ordnance that had been brought in to use as evidence of terrorist activity. That caused at least the first four upper levels to collapse and burn. There were a lot of incendiaries in that lot and the fires are still raging," said the head of M2.

"Hmm ... this may well work to our advantage in another problem. The Native population in that area has gone all "green" on us. They are trying to stop the development of the area and are fighting tooth and nail against exploration for new oil fields and strategic minerals. Why not just use them?"

"No! I let you talk me into using Team Abattoir as a favor. Well they are dead and we are done with you and your senseless killing. We have dedicated ourselves to wipe out the threat to Israel and that means Muslim terrorists. This mess was your plan, not ours. We are finished!" said the head of M2 as he turned and started out of the room. He never made it! The man sitting at the desk nodded to his guard who quickly shot and killed the leader of M2.

"George, kill the rest of his entourage, and then get the bodies out of here. After that, send a compliment of troops to wipe out his teams at the complex. We will use the bodies of M2 for the fundraiser; one Semitic looks like another after all. Oh and George ... do this quickly and make it look good. I want to have a media blitz on this as soon as possible. Let's panic those fools in Ottawa into giving us Carte Blanc.

"Oh and on your way out tell Charles to get me a new rug. A wine colored Persian, I should think."

"Yes Sir."

The satellite continued to orbit the earth and at regular intervals passed over the still burning Complex.

This time the unblinking eye of the camera caught The Hamper's team arranging bodies for the arrival of the media.

General Frank Clark looked at Senior Analyst Mary Hansen and asked, "Do you think that this is being done by the regular military or some rogue group, like that CSIS group we have suspected, or is there someone else we should be blaming?"

Mary thought for a minute and then puffed out her cheeks in an exaggerated sigh and said, "Oh for sure and for certain this is not the regular military! As to who actually is doing this I can only guess."

"Mary, I would take one of your guesses over a desk full of analyses from anyone else. Now ... What do you think?"

"Well, ok! I think that we have a small, hopefully, group of people in the background manipulating things to panic the Canadian legislature. Just look at these photos and it's clear that the whole incident was staged! I think that this thing was a fund raiser."

"As if we don't have enough problems with the real terrorists..."

"Oh these guys are very real and, in my book just as dangerous. Its just that they are home grown Canadian patriotic terrorists."

"Patriotic terrorists sounds like an oxymoron to me."

"Think about it, Frank. This incident put terror in the hearts and minds of the Canadian people. The only thing is, that the reason is different. Here we have a group that wants to strengthen their military and security forces, not bring them down. So they orchestrate a fake terror cell base being destroyed, and the money simply rolls into the coffers of the defense and security people."

"Ok, I see what you mean, but as far as I'm concerned these people are just the flip side of the same coin. A terrorist is a terrorist, period."

"I agree, totally!" said Mary as she slumped into a chair. "The question is 'What do we do about it?'"

During the following weeks the Headlines in the Canadian papers screamed of the terrorist's plan to attack the seat of Government. Over the following days and weeks the pundits, controlled by The Hamper, whipped the public into a state of hysteria! The public howled for inquiries into the reasons why it had taken so long to discover the plot. It was obvious to the average citizen that the enemy had been able to establish a base on Canadian soil and that an attack had been imminent. Such things were simply inexcusable!

The Director smiled as he read the papers. As the time passed the Security and Defense Departments had asked for, and received, more money from the frightened legislators. The fundraiser had worked!

"Hah! Victory has been snatched from the jaws of catastrophe," exclaimed the Director of The Hamper Group as he punched the air.

The timing had been right as Jacob's group moved out. The M2 troops didn't arrive for another two days and so missed the fact that Group Abattoir had escaped.

The incendiary devices that had gone off had super-heated the complex to such a degree that any and all combustibles in the upper levels did, indeed, catch fire. There were spaces enough for air to enter those levels of the complex in spite of the collapse that the fires burned unabated for many days.

The M2 teams made a cursory search and found nothing and assumed that all and sundry was totally destroyed.

As the first snows of the year began to fall the different squads of Group Abattoir checked in with Jacob on the shore of a large lake. They had lost only two men in their hasty exodus from the compound—they had died on the trip out of wounds received in the firefight with the remaining M2 guards. That discounts the traitors that were killed by Jacob in the old complex.

John and his team had made it back to their camouflaged planes and flown out between passes of the satellite. They had flown east from the destroyed compound in order to conceal the location of their home base, before turning south then northwest in a series of short hops. They landed at crowded commercial airports in order to hide in plain sight, mixed in with hundreds of other airplanes.

Now as John's floatplane sat at the water's edge he and Jacob stood next to a small campfire, warming their hands and talking.

"You know that you can't go home again, don't you?" asked John.

"Of course I know that! It really frosts my ass, too. I finally had a real home. I was even thinking of asking my girlfriend, Sandy, to marry me. Sir ... John ... I was going to retire this year! Can you believe that?"

"Yes, I can. Have you told your men yet what the real story is?"

"No. I was waiting to talk things over with you. After all, you and your group have been through this before. I thought that I would let the voices of experience direct me."

"Can you get at your cash reserves without anyone being the wiser, Jacob?"

"Oh sure. I'm the only one that knows the account numbers and which banks. What happened to you has been in the back of my mind for years and I sort of skimmed money for our retirement so we have that as well as our profits."

"Is it a sizable amount?"

"Why?"

"Well, I think that the M2 may think that you all died in the explosions at the compound..."

"Look John, Sir, I know that you're experienced in this kind of thing but how can you think that they are going to just forget about us?"

"While you were making your way here the media had a feeding frenzy over the terrorists that were stopped at the very compound you just left. If the fundraiser plan went off without you, then I think, at the very least, you have time to hide. You need to stress the fact that there is no going home for you or your men. If even one member is caught the hunt will be on. Do you understand what I'm saying?"