Lieutenant Colonel Johnathan Powers was in a HMMWV (High Mobility Multipurpose Wheeled Vehicle - Humvee) heading in the direction of the target. He was holding a folder with the name and background of the target, and there was a large convoy of armed soldiers following him.
The day before, First Lieutenant Gutierrez had arrived at his desk with a folder on a potential returner. The name on the folder was Brett Cooper. The folder was thick, and the files in it were heavily redacted.
Brett Cooper was Special Forces. He was part of a special reconnaissance unit that had been deployed to the middle east, and though the specifics of his deployment weren’t listed, he had acquired a significant number of accolades during his time in the field. Almost half a decade prior, after his four years of service in Special Forces, Brett requested a switch to reserve status. His wife had wanted a child, and he had wanted to be a father.
Brett lived in Texas, and his wife had filed a missing person report the same day he disappeared. They had traveled to New York for New Years with friends and left their daughter with her grandparents, Brett’s parents. His wife had always wanted to see the ball drop.
Lisa Cooper had remained in New York a couple of weeks longer searching for her husband, but eventually, she had returned to Texas. Brett’s parents had taken her in to help her and the young child.
She posted about her husband’s disappearance every day on internet forums and social media, even going so far as to tag the army itself on multiple posts. She had even requested a meet with the NYC base command, but with her being a civilian, the base had not answered.
The same day the NYC base was attacked, Brett Cooper had flown out of Newark International Airport back to Texas. Not long after, his wife’s internet posts stopped altogether.
It had taken First Lieutenant Gutierrez a week to find out about Brett because he had had to go through a hundred thousand different names. On top of that, the system almost didn’t want to bring up mentions of Brett Cooper. Whatever Brett Cooper had done on active duty had made the US Army treat him almost like a person in witness protection. All mentions of him were almost immediately wiped from the system as they came up.
Nevertheless, one of the soldiers in Gutierrez's squad had noticed something was amiss and proceeded to do a manual search, which was how they had managed to find out about Brett Cooper.
First Lieutenant Gutierrez and Lieutenant Colonel Powers were together in the same vehicle. Gutierrez was driving, and they were getting close to the Cooper Ranch.
“Have everybody fall back. I don’t want him to see anybody but us,” Powers said.
Gutierrez got on the radio and gave out the order, and the convoy around them started slowing down. They would stay far enough away to not be seen but close enough that they could rush in if something went wrong. The convoy had a couple of drones available that would be deployed for surveillance.
They were heading down a dirt road off I-35, just outside of San Marcos. Half an hour had passed since they had driven off the interstate, and according to the GPS, it would take them another fifteen minutes to reach the ranch.
“Sir, what’s the goal here? I want to be prepared to back you up in an emergency?”
“If we came upon anybody else with potential powers, most likely elimination. However, Brett Cooper is one of us. It would be better for everyone involved if we could recruit him. We know other countries are mounting their own initiatives, and we don’t want a repeat of what happened in Rio.”
Rio de Janeiro was a beautiful city, but it was also an extremely violent city. The police were woefully underpaid, and a lot of them found other ways to earn money. Rio had allowed the creation of militias as an excuse to curb gang violence and drug traffic spread, and cops were often part of those militias when off duty. However, in a city filled with corruption, those same militias had become death squads for politicians and the rich that extorted money from the poor by claiming protection fees. When the powered came out of the Verdant Tower, they went back to their homes. The next day, the bodies of every member of the militias that patrolled the favelas were strung up at the entrance of each favela. A bloody war had started in Rio after that, and it was still going.
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“Some of the other countries had the right idea creating government organizations to control the powered disguised as associations. However, that also opens the door for internal problems. If anybody can join, you will also get individuals you can’t trust or control. We settled for in-person interviews because that way we can take out individuals we know will become problematic eventually. From what we can tell, the survival rate of every tower is extremely low, so Brett may be our only survivor. If we lose him, other forces will take that as a chance to attack us. America will not lose on my watch,” Lieutenant Colonel Powers said.
“No, sir!” Gutierrez agreed.
Everything depended on the conversation they were about to have.
Those fifteen minutes felt like forever for First Lieutenant Gutierrez, but soon, they were crossing the gates of Cooper Ranch.
Brett had bought the ranch after finishing his service. His parents lived in San Marcos, but he had wanted something more off the grid. The transition from deployment had been difficult, and places with large populations had become stressors. Going to New York had been a complicated decision for him, but he had wanted to do it for his wife, who had gone through hell and back with him as he adjusted to civilian life.
The ranch was big, and there were cattle and horses running around. There were smaller farm animals roaming the field as well, and a sheep dog started running next to the humvee as they drove up to the house. The drones were high enough in the sky to be almost imperceptible to the naked eye, but the soldiers were watching their every move.
When they reached the house, both Gutierrez and Powers got out of the car and headed for the door. Gutierrez rang the bell, and they heard the thin voice of a young girl yell, “I get it!”
Half a minute later, the door opened, and they saw a small girl standing before them. She had blond hair, blue eyes and plump, rosy cheeks that became even more pronounced with her smile.
“Hello!” she said.
“Hi!” Gutierrez answered, the tension in his body visibly giving way to the cheerfulness of the child in front of him.
“Allison, honey, how many times do I have to tell you to wait for me before you o-” Lisa Cooper’s voice cut short as she turned the corner and saw the two officers beyond the threshold. “How may I help y’all?”
“Good afternoon, Mrs. Cooper. My name is Lieutenant Colonel Jonathan Powers. Could I have a word with your husband?”
Lisa paused, but she knew better than to protest their presence in her house. She wanted to scream at them to go away, but she didn’t.
“Please, come in. Allison, can you tell daddy that we have company? He’s on the porch out back.”
“Yesh!” Allison responded and bounded off to the back of the house.
“Please, sit. Would y’all like something to eat? I made some buttermilk biscuits earlier, and there’s tea.”
“No, thank you, ma’am,” Powers said.
“I’ll bring them all the same. Don’t be shy about having some. I’ll just be a sec.”
Lisa left toward the kitchen, and not long after, the officers heard the sound of a tray hitting the counter, and the fridge door opening. Gutierrez knew how good homemade southern food was, so when Powers had told Lisa that she didn’t need to bring anything for them, he had felt the pang of loss. However, to his surprise, Lisa had not relented.
She came back not long after with a tray of biscuits and three glasses of tea filled with ice.
“Here you go, gentlemen. What is taking Brett so long?” As soon as she turned around to look in the direction Allison had gone, she saw Brett walking their way with Allison in his arms. “Speak of the devil!”
When he approached and saw the officers, who stood up immediately upon his arrival, Brett handed Allison to Lisa, gave her a kiss on the forehead and said, “Play with her out back, please.”
Lisa had wanted to protest once again, but she turned to Allison and asked, “Do you want biscuits, honey?”
“Yeah!” Allison replied.
“Then, let’s go get more in the kitchen. We’ll get you a nice glass of tea.” She turned toward the men in the room and added, “Y'all behave.” Then, she left with Allison.
“Major Cooper, my name is Lieutenant Colonel Powers. I won’t beat around the bush. I’m in charge of the New York base, and we have a proposition for you.”
Brett took a deep breath before saying, “I knew you guys would show up eventually. Let’s take this outside, gentlemen. We can talk in the barn.”
“Very well,” Powers replied and turned to walk away.
Brett, however, grabbed a couple of biscuits and a glass of iced tea before leaving the house. The three men headed to the red barn nearby.