Page 68 of Call Sign: Thunder
“Fucking great,” Axel groused.
Doc’s high heels clicked along the white floor as she added, “I’ll even schedule some time with Torch while I’m here and if Thunder has time after you guys get back from your mission, we can get to work on his psych tests to make sure he’s approved for duty.”
Ryder was already at the door, starting the process to enter. “Catch up. We’ll have the same entry procedure here as at the other end.”
The Command Center, as Ryder had called it, put The Bunker in DC to shame, yet the ironic thing was, as mammoth as this room was, Zach saw only one person sitting at a terminal, talking into a headset.
As the group approached the man from behind, Zach realized the dark-haired man was speaking Arabic to someone at the other end of the line.
Knowing Ryder spoke so many languages, it didn’t surprise him when Ryder said something to the man in Arabic, causing him to turn and grin. He quickly ended the call he was on and jumped up to greet Ryder with a big man hug.
Zach had picked up a few Arabic phrases while running missions in Afghanistan, but the discussion the two men started having was way over his head.
“Here we go. I fucking knew you two would start in with the cryptic language shit.” Apparently the conversation was over Axel’s head too.
“Fine, fine. We’ll switch over for those too slow to keep up,” the dark-haired guy teased in perfect English. He turned in Zach’s direction, holding out a hand for a shake. “Amir Salik. Call me Torch.”
“Zach Garrett, but I go by Thunder.”
“If we’re done with intros, can we maybe get to work?” Axel groused, picking up a folder that looked to have the same surveillance photos he and Ryder had reviewed with Bing back at The Bunker.
Amir thumbed in Axel’s direction. “Don’t let the old man scare you off. His bark is worse than his bite.”
“Yeah? Tell that to the asshole I left in three pieces last week down in Venezuela.”
“Fine… he’s a badass against the bad guys, but other than that…”
It was Ryder who shut down the banter.
“As grouchy as Axel may be, he is right. We have a narrow window of time to meet our contact inside Cuba. We need to get in the air soon. Where’s Gopher? He have our supplies ready?”
Torch looked confused. “I know I just got here, but I haven’t met a Gopher. There was some tiny guy named Mole here a bit ago.”
“Don’t listen to him. I told him Mole is an unacceptable call sign. Every time someone uses it I think we have a spy that infiltrated the team.”
A squeaky voice came from behind Zach. “And I told you that Mole isn’t just a call sign. It’s been my name since high school. My mother even calls me Mole.”
“Oh yeah?” Ryder asked. “Time to tell her you’ve officially changed your name to Gopher because if you don’t, you can find another job.”
Doc stepped into the middle of the fray. “If I may, perhaps a solution would be to use his real name instead. Since Howard doesn’t go out on active missions, there is no need for him to even have a call sign.”
In unison, every man present except Zach answered with a stern, “No.”
Raising her hands up in a sign of surrender, Doc added, “Fine, you all keep banging your head against the wall over silly things. I’ll wait over here,” she said pointing in the direction of a cubicle. “I have a few calls to make.”
It was Gopher who made a suggestion. “Actually Fury had an idea. What do you think about calling me Q? Like the guy who helps James Bond. That’s kinda what I do around here anyway.”
“I’ll think about it later,” Ryder said. “After the life of an innocent American journalist isn’t hanging in the balance.”
“Fine,” Gopher groused. “I knew you’d be short on time so I have everything you requested and even some things you didn’t ask for already loaded into the freight elevator. It’s ready whenever you are.”
Ryder thumbed in Zach’s direction. “You have a flight suit for Thunder here? I’d rather he not wear a business suit up in the bird.”
“Sure, follow me,” the frail looking man said, waving his arm to follow.
Zach followed him a short way down the hallway where he used his biometric imprint to open one of the doors they had passed on the way in. Overhead rows of lights came on automatically, displaying a huge room filled with racks and racks of all kinds of clothes, shoes, hats, and other accessories.
“Wow,” Zach said, reaching out to touch a Naval officer’s hat they passed not far from the door.
