be worrying about the Oversight Council.”
“No problems there,” Kurt said. “They know we’re doing the right thing. All I need to do is keep them up to speed. You do the work and I’ll get the Omega authority. Lord knows we’ve chased this guy enough.”
“I know. I can’t wait to take this fucker out. This should be Pike’s target. He’s the one that found him years ago. I’m thinking of tattooing Pike’s name on his ass before I turn him over to the support team.”
Kurt laughed. “I was thinking that exact thing this morning. Not the tattooing, the fact that Pike’s the one that got us here. You still talk to him? How’s he doing?”
“I have no idea. His cell phone’s disconnected and I don’t know what he’s doing now. I keep hoping he’ll give me a call. I’m afraid that one day I’m going to see him on the news, peeking out the window of a house surrounded by SWAT guys.”
“Come on. That shit won’t happen. Pike’s still Pike. Don’t worry about him. He’ll turn up. He just needs some time. Focus on the mission.”
“I know, I know. I’m on the mission. One hundred percent.”
“Good to hear. Look, I’ve got to go. The Oversight Council won’t wait. I probably won’t see you before you deploy.” He stuck out his hand. “Good luck.”
KURT HALE AND GEORGE WOLFFE crossed the Potomac River, entering into the District of Columbia. George was driving, giving Kurt time to reflect on what Knuckles had said. He had put on a brave face and told Knuckles not to worry, but the truth was that Kurt was very concerned. He wished there were something he could do to bring Pike back into the fold, but he had tried everything at his disposal, from simple downtime to in-depth therapy. Nothing had worked. Kurt knew Pike’s days as an operator were over but didn’t think there was any way he would end up like Knuckles had said. Pike just wasn’t made that way, no matter how bad it got.
The shame of the whole thing was that he knew the Taskforce wouldn’t have been where it was without Pike. It had been a long, hard fight to get the unit established, and Pike’s initial successes had guaranteed its survival.
George broke him out of his thoughts, asking, “What are you brooding over? You look like someone just shit on your birthday cake.”
“Nothing. I was just thinking about how far we’ve come. If Knuckles gets to Omega, it will be like closing a circle. Missing that terrorist four times is what caused me to quit the first attempt at the Taskforce and build what we have now. Dumb bastard doesn’t even know he’s the reason so many of his friends are now dead or captured.”
“Yeah, I know. I’d like to be there to see him go down. That ain’t it, though. I know you better. What’s up?”
Kurt paused, then said, “Pike. Once we turned him loose we started taking out terrorists like they were delivered to our door. I don’t know . . . I guess I feel like I used him, then threw him away.”
“Cut that talk out. Pike was good, but even you said he was a handful. He was always going off on his own. He never asked for permission to do anything. Just did what he thought was right. In my mind, we’re lucky he didn’t cause an incident while he was here. Shit, we did have an incident. We’re just lucky it was during training.”
Kurt knew that was bullshit. The Taskforce had existed for only three short years but in that time had executed over twelve Omega operations, all perfectly. A third of those successful operations were done by Pike’s team, a number twice as big as the next most successful team’s. Other team leaders said it was simply luck—being at the right place at the right time—but Kurt had worked with Pike long enough to know it was something else. Most of the success was due to hard skills, but a crucial part was simply an ill-defined talent that couldn’t be explained. Pike just made things happen. Yeah, he was a handful, but you couldn’t