Hail Warning

Sulu Sea — Courtney Island

The beach was littered with construction materials. Wood of all shapes and sizes was stacked in neat piles. Sheets of corrugated tin sat in a stack, baking in the hot afternoon sun. Boxes of hardware, screws, nuts, bolts and nails sat next to an assortment of hand tools.

Dozens of kids from all four of Hail’s full-size cargo ships were given R & R. They were running around Hail’s new island like busy little ants. After years without pets, the young adults had a dozen horses, three dogs, and two cats. The cats were busy chasing an endless supply of mice that needed to be eradicated from the island. Apparently, until the cats had arrived, they had no other predators, and the dogs had fun chasing the cats. The young crew was busy building a stable for the horses, in addition to many other small structures they would require on the island.

Some of them were working on building an endless treehouse within the mass of banyan trees that were interconnected to one another. Hail guessed it would be possible to build almost continuously throughout the trees, connecting each room to another using narrow hanging suspension bridges. His crew would be safe up in their treehouse complex unless there was a massive storm or a critical construction failure.

As each group of crew members arrived on Hail’s island, they each had exhibited a fit of excitement and amazement — running this way and that while being led around and shown the island by the young adults who had arrived earlier. After several hours of show and tell, the crew returned to the beach and got busy working, which was a kind of play. It was exactly what Hail had hoped the island would provide them.

The first task was to transfer the building materials inland to the areas where they were needed. Hail watched the teens build a gurney out of wood to be carried via a leather harness by one of the more mellow horses. With one rider on the back of the horse, the others would load wood on the gurney, and the rider would give the horse a nudge. The horse and the load placed on the gurney slowly moved hinterland to the location where it was needed.

Out at sea, Hail watched a large tender boat being loaded with more supplies being offloaded from the Hail Nucleus. The smaller boat delivered the load to the beach. His young crew loaded it on the sled being pulled by the horse, and off it would go.

Under an umbrella, sitting in a reclining beach chair, Hail smiled as he watched his crew work. It was the happiest work he had ever seen. He was certain his kids didn’t consider it work; they appeared to be having a great time. Hail had hoped they would enjoy the change of pace and time to just be young. It was exciting to see his crew work out ingenious ways of solving problems and work productively. Marshall didn’t plan to provide the island with electricity, gas, or engines. He wanted his crew to have the experience of building things with their own hands, like working the soil to grow vegetables and sitting around a campfire instead of an Xbox. Hail wanted them to read themselves to sleep. Or heck — if he dared to dream — they might even write.

And, in the future, if they really wanted electricity, they would have to figure out how to harness the waterfall to spin a generator that could charge batteries. But Hail knew they were a long way from that realization. Every civilization had to start with the basics: food, water, and shelter.

Renner and Nolan were inland, monitoring the construction of the zoo and the temporary barracks where the kids would stay during their three-week rotations on the island. After three weeks, a new rotation would take place, and yet another set of young people would get their fun in the sun.

Hail was very happy, but on the periphery clouding his pleasure, there was a dark spot.

Kara Ramey had disappeared, and it had affected Hail more than he had expected. He hadn’t known the CIA agent for long. Based on the time he knew Kara, it was disconcerting how much he found himself missing her. Even though he tried to tell himself he didn’t care, he was lying. There was an empty chair sitting next to Hail under the umbrella. His crew had put up the umbrella and put down two chairs for him. After all, why put down one chair if you can put down two? Every few minutes, Hail would glance over at the chair, imagining Kara sitting next to him. If she hadn’t left without warning, virtually disappearing without a text to let him know she was leaving, she would probably be sitting next to him right now.

Hail didn’t know whether to be angry, sad or concerned. For all he knew, Kara could be dead. When he hadn’t heard from her for a day, he had a drone flown back to Kornev’s house in Termez to watch the place. But they had seen no activity at all. No lights going on and off. No activity in front of the windows. No cars coming or going from the various garages that Kornev used when arriving or departing the compound. It was as if it had been abandoned, and that made Hail even more anxious.

As he sat in his chair, on this beautiful day, watching his crew have the most fun they had ever had, his mood became gloomier. He began to mull over what he should do. What should be his next step in locating Kara? To head down that road, he

had to accept he was going to locate Kara. He had already determined — in his mind — she needed finding. He had always found himself attracted to damsels-in-distress. He figured it had something to do with wanting to feel needed. The sublime solitude of the beach was assaulted by the harsh chime of Hail’s cellphone. Hoping it was Kara and, without checking the caller ID, Hail pulled the phone from his front pocket and placed it to his ear.

“This is Hail,” he said.

“Hail, this is Pepper,” the director of the CIA said. Without waiting for Hail to respond, Pepper asked, “Have you heard from Kara?”

Hail was surprised by the question. At the very least, he had assumed that Kara had checked in with her boss. If Pepper was being straight with him, and Kara had not contacted him, this new information was alarming. Kara was out there by herself with no means of tactical support — doing only God knows what.

“No, I haven’t,” Hail told Pepper. “I was hoping you had.”

“We haven’t heard anything from her for days,” Pepper said.

There was a long and lonely silence on the phone as both men thought, “Where do we go from here?”

Finally, Pepper asked, “When was the last time you heard from her?”

Hail thought the question over and said, “She called me from the tarmac at the Snake Island runway. She said that she was going to fly back to Termez with Kornev so she could work on him.”

“Yeah, she called and told me the same thing,” Pepper said.

Another long silence hung between them.

Hail finally said, “I have a drone watching Kornev’s compound in Termez, and it showed Kornev’s Hummer leave his garage. I didn’t have the assets to track his vehicle, and the SUV has not returned. After I had a drone charged and ready to fly, we flew over to the airport and saw Kornev’s Hummer parked at his Air Cress service. So, we don’t know who left in a plane. It might have been both Kara and Kornev, or whether it was either Kara or Kornev alone. We just don’t know.”

Pepper appeared to be as mystified as Hail.

“All right,” Pepper said. “I’ll let you know if I hear anything, and I would appreciate if you would let me know if she contacts you.”

“Will do,” Hail said, and the connection was broken.

Hail dropped his phone in his lap and looked out across the vast ocean in front of him.

“Where are you Kara Ramey?” Hail said to himself.

His phone made a ding sound indicating he had received a text message.

Reluctantly, he picked up his phone and checked the message.

Hi, Marshall. This is Kara. I’m sorry to just disappear on u, but like I told u, I have my own agenda and need to make myself whole again. I am safe.

Hail read the message, and his heart did a little flip-flop.

He punched his big thumbs at the screen and wrote:

I know this sounds silly, but I was very worried about you. I miss—

Hail thought about it for a moment, and then pressed the backspace key several times. Starting at the end of the last complete sentence, he left a text.

If you need anything, please let me know.

He then pressed SEND and awaited a response.

A minute later, Kara sent another text.

Just an FYI, this is a burner phone. After I am done texting this, you won’t be able to get ahold of me again.

Marshall Hail sensed a finality about the text. It was like a message you might receive from a person intent on committing suicide. He surmised that he was probably reading more into the message than was there. But if Kara was going after the man who had shot her parents’ plane from the sky, then her goal was close to committing suicide.

Hail thumbed at the screen again.

You have my text number. Use it and I will be there. I can help.

Hail sent the message and waited.

He waited the entirety of that long and hot afternoon and the remainder of the night. Before he went to bed on a cot in the barracks — a building without a roof — he checked his messages and saw two words from Kara.

Don’t worry.

But it was way too late for that. Hail had already begun to worry.