Free James Acton 01 - The Protocol by J Robert Kennedy Page A

deftly manipulated the camera angles and archival footage to track Acton back from security to the bathroom, back out of the bathroom to the ticket counter and finally to the taxi drop off outside where he could be seen exiting a cab. He wasn’t carrying anything.
    “Did he do a handoff to somebody before arriving?”
    “Get the ID number off that cab. I want to know where he picked Acton up, if he was carrying anything when he did, and if they made any stops along the way.”
    “Yes, Sergeant Major.”
     
    Phoenix, Arizona
     
    Acton breathed a sigh of relief as he boarded the plane. He was sure he had been watched, and no doubt they had flagged his ID, but the fact he hadn’t been intercepted told him whoever was after him wanted the skull.  After struggling overnight through the desert sand and bitter cold, he and his cadre of illegals had made it to a road where his companions hid behind a dune, waiting for a prearranged truck to arrive. Since he was an American, he decided to just hitch a ride and within minutes was picked up by a rig headed to Phoenix.
    Once there, he had paid cash for a room at a motel, cleaned up and put on a fresh set of clothes purchased from a nearby thrift shop, then found a store with a FedEx drop-off where he put the riskiest part of his plan into motion, a plan he had developed while on the ship from Peru.
    But will it work?
    The flight took off and he fell asleep within minutes, exhausted.
     
    Somewhere in U.S. Airspace
     
    The men sat solemnly, the roar of the engines doing a poor job of drowning out their thoughts of Spaz. His flag-draped body was in the hold, watched over by his good friend Clint. Mickey finally broke the silence.
    “How did he get the nickname Spaz anyway?”
    Niner frowned. That kid talks too much. “Ever see ‘Revenge of the Nerds’?”
    “Who hasn’t?” replied Mickey.
    “When we get back to the unit I’ll show you the tape we made at the party celebrating his making the unit.”
    “What happened?” Niner didn’t answer so Mickey looked at some of the others. A smile creased Smitty’s face. Mickey looked at him. “Well?”
    Smitty, whose own nickname had come from his voracious appetite for pancakes, laughed. “Shit, that’s a night he always wanted to forget!” A few of the others chuckled. “Spaz got so pissed that he put Michael Jackson’s ‘Beat It’ on the player and then started to imitate the dance from ‘Revenge’. It was one of the funniest damned things I’ve ever seen!” The chuckles transformed into outright laughter. The nervous tension finally broken, the men reminisced about some of the other escapades they had enjoyed with Spaz.
     
    “Bravo Command to Bravo Transport One.” Marco was catching some rack time when the communication came in over his headset, startling him awake. He glanced around. Most of the other men were laughing. Mickey winced between laughs, gripping his leg as Spock adjusted his medication.
    “This is Bravo Transport One, go ahead, Bravo Command.”
    “Bravo Transport One, we need you to land immediately. Bravo One wants a four-man team in civvies to head to Phoenix immediately. Further instructions once in position, over.”
    “Roger that Bravo Command. Will find nearest strip and notify you. Bravo Transport One Out.”
    Marco went to the cockpit and notified the pilots, then returned to the passenger area.
    “Hey, Marco, where’d you get your name?” asked Mickey, his words slurred slightly from the Demerol.
    “Someone found out I played polo,” he replied.
    “No shit?” Mickey laughed. He turned to Spock who had just checked his dressing. “And you?” Spock cocked one eyebrow at him. Mickey roared in laughter then passed out.
    Marco pointed to Smitty, Niner and Jimmy. “Gear up for a civvie street assignment, we’re going to Phoenix.”
    The four of them started stripping out of their fatigues as the C17 banked sharply to the left and descended.
     
    New York City, New