by thedoctor
It didn't take Beau Pierce long to assign Dirk Bell and Rogers. He felt that it was logical for them to continue on the same case as they had started. After all, they'd be working with the same people that they worked with in Central Europe. It made the dynamics easier if members of a team had worked together before. There was already the building of trust, and trust was most important in team work.
Dirk hadn't asked any questions about his last target. The young man just acknowledged that it was an order, and he followed it. Loyalty: Pierce liked that. Dirk was definitely his father's son.
Now that Bell and Rogers were full-fledged members of the team, they were filled in on everything. Everything they needed to know, that is. The targets on the bridge were an American scientist, Dr. Joseph Williams, who had sold his soul to the second man, Felix Johnston, who was nationless himself, holding no citizenship in any country, but at one time he had been an American himself. These men were under the control of Victor McKnight, although no direct evidence linking them was ever found.
McKnight was the head of an organization that, at one time, was very much like the one Pierce commanded. He led yet another group of forgotten soldiers but had taken his into another direction. Never being a true patriot, McKnight was probably the worse choice for head of covert-ops group with high military clearance. Using many of his connections that he made with militant groups attempting to topple local governments across the globe, the man had turned his agency of protection into a militia-for-hire firm that provided more than just training. Many times, for a hefty price, his own men would be involved in fighting. For an even higher price, McKnight would provide U.S.-developed weapons that not even its creators would use. Such was the case now. Dr. Williams' expertise was in bacteria and viruses, specifically bacteria and viruses that killed.
Bell and Rogers were now on a plane back to Europe. They had skipped the usual entrance training, since Pierce was already sure that Dirk had been through it, and Rogers could catch up later. The sneaking suspicion the older man had gotten convinced him that all of the strain wasn't placed in that truck. The intel of the rendezvous came almost without impediment. McKnight was too clever to let something so important get out so easily.
"This is going to be the life," Rogers said. "Globetrotting on a major scale. This isn't like it was in the Marines, Dirk. We won't just be going into a country to drag our noses across its dirt and pop off a few rounds. We'll actually be staying in four-star hotels and eating in gourmet restaurants. Chicks galore my friend, chicks galore."
"You've been watching too many Bond movies," Dirk replied to his friend. Before Rogers could come up with his next response, he continued, "If we're supposed to be living it up double-O-seven style, why are we flying coach?"
"You just can't let a man have his dream, can you?"
Dirk returned his gaze to the window. They were flying over the middle of the Atlantic. Sun glistened off the blue water. He thought he noticed a ship in the sea. It was big, probably a tanker. It might not be the Concord with caviar and champagne, but it was still exciting.