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Stories from the Verse
A Dozen Verses
Chapter 35: Kondor 267
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Previous chapter: Slade 262
Exiting their nylon tent, the two went in separate directions to relieve themselves. Parakeets and monkeys sang and hooted in the rising fog of the damp jungle about them. Even at eight in the morning it was already steaming hot, and they sweated. Both walked back to the camp center, already planning on how to knock down the nylon tent. It would take but a few minutes.
“Don’t move. C.I.A. I know what you are, and I know I can’t kill you, but don’t think I would hesitate for a moment to send you to the next world if that’s where you want to go. My boss would be happier if you came with us and had a little talk with him. There might be a job for you here if you’re interested. If you’re not interested, you don’t have to stay.”
Kondor and Zeke froze as they heard the hard voice from ten yards behind them, near the edge of the small clearing they had chosen for their camp. Standing next to each other, the two worked their muscles. They would not be taken easily.
“I have other men with me, sirs,” the same voice said.
“Christians in Action?” Kondor asked, using the sneering slang term popular among some of the troops he had served with back on his first Earth. No Such Agency had been the National Security Agency, and Famous But Incompetent had been the FBI to the same jokesters.
“We’ve been called that,” the voice allowed with a still waiting tone in his voice.
“Christians? That could be good,” Zeke murmured into his own collar. Kondor ruefully smiled to himself before replying similarly.
“Not the kind you’re thinking of, old buddy. The kind that blow up buildings with children in them, drop poison in wine glasses, and assassinate foreign rulers.”
“Um, that doesn’t sound very Christian.”
“Now you’re getting it, Zeke.”
“So dive to the right and left?”
“Let’s hear what CIA has to say first,” he concluded, and then more loudly, “So, CIA, what’s going on if I might inquire?”
“I’m called Chameleon. We work with someone in British Intelligence who knows quite a bit about people like you, and have found that you make excellent agents. We would like to transport you to meet with him, and let him explain things. I hope that’s alright with you, but we really won’t take no for an answer.”
“It's not really a good idea to threaten me, sir. The last group that did so, well, their little coup is over and toast. The group before that is about a half mile under the water with no chance of coming up to the surface.”
“Sarge?” An almost familiar voice called out.
“What Skink? This is not--”
“Ask the man who is speaking to turn around.” A bit of a pause after that, and then Chameleon spoke.
“You heard my medic. Since you don’t like threats, I’ll just make a request, could you please turn around, slowly?”
Kondor turned around and heard a bit of rustle from the bushes on all sides of a quarter bow that had been behind him. But what he saw on the man’s face who held the rifle aimed at his chest from ten yards away was shock. The man was White, between five and a half and six feet tall, not exactly thin but muscular, with dark hair and light eyes.
The real shocker was the man standing to the left of him. He was Kondor. The uniform was different, but even much of the same look was in his eyes. Kondor and Kondor Here, or, yes, he had been called Skink, they both stared at each other with utter fascination.
Both held up their hands in a gesture that Kondor remembered from childhood. He had not seen himself in a mirror in a while, but there were slight differences. Looking at Chameleon, he would describe him as an elite soldier, and so too with Kondor Other, with Skink. He himself had been a competent soldier, but not planning on joining the Rangers or Delta. The indomitable will, the slightly larger muscles, the tiger tension from being trained to a razor’s edge all looked out of place for his expectation of himself.
“You’re Special Forces?”
“Got my Ranger Tab, and was considering going Delta when I got a call-up for a Kill Before Reading briefing on something called Reptile House.”
“This group?”
“Yes,” Skink said.
“Since it looks like we’re not going to try and kill each other, can I turn around now?” Zeke asked. Chameleon laughed, sounding relieved. Kondor could see that he had fully expected to win, but at the same time there had been fear--as there should be. If they had tried to capture Lauren, and she objected, or that strange little girl with Beam, they might not have walked away. Kondor himself thought he might have taken one of them before being gunned down. What worried him was another attempt like that of the coup plotters to enslave him, or even worse, some sort of MKultra mindwarp. So far, though, things were looking up.
“Please, turn around. If you are the doppelganger of another of us, I’m going to eat my hat.” Zeke turned around and no one claimed him from the bushes. He looked shocked to see Kondor Other, too.
“Um, Verser Kondor, we really are not bad guys. You might be thinking, as a lot of Army guys do, that when the CIA gets involved the infantry gets messed over. But our Captain is not like that. He’s a good one,” Skink said.
“What about MKultra?” Kondor asked even as he tried to read Chameleon’s surface thoughts. “Mindwarping.”
Huh? What’s that? Hey, he’s looking closely at me. Wait. Is he reading my mind? That kid two years ago, he could do that. Um. Ninety-Nine Bottles of Beer on the wall, Ninety-Nine Bottles of Beer on the wall, take one down pass it around, Ninety-Eight Bottles of Beer on the wall--”
Kondor cut off the mindreading. Chameleon was very quick on the draw. In a way that was good. He would likely know about CIA mindraping techniques if he was that read in as to head a special forces black team, and that perceptive. The fact that he did not know of it might also mean he had not participated which was all to the good as well.
“Zeke?” he said.
“I like them.”
“All right, Chameleon, we’ll meet your boss. Please don’t make me regret this decision,” Kondor said, and within seconds, one of the others was on the walkie.
“Komodo Dragon, bring in the copter. Yes, just drop the ladder. Both of them look like they can handle it.”
As to the old stories that have long been here:
