Splinter Cell: Traitor

Epilogue

Abigail

FISHERS HOUSE

SIX MONTHS LATER

                I rode down the dirt rode to Fisher’s farm house.  The last house I had seen was over a mile away.  I could see why he liked it.  No high ground, very little cover, high visibility.  It was the middle of the summer.  I rolled my neck as I pulled into his driveway.  We were headed to the White House tomorrow.  I had steaks and a six pack.  Pulling them out of the saddlebags, I walked over to the door and knocked.

                Sam answered the door wearing a pair of blue jeans.  He had a nice tan and hadn’t shaved in what appeared to be a month.  I held the steaks and beer up.  He just smiled and let me in.  We walked out to the back porch and he started the grill.

                “It’s standard practice to call ahead.  By the way, how's your shoulder?” he said.

                “I would have, but you don’t answer your phone.  My shoulder is fine, thanks.” I told him and twisted the cap off a beer.

                “So what have you been doing for the past six months?”

                “Little bit of everything, spent some time consulting for the FBI Counterterror Division, didn’t pay all that well.  Trained Marines in Hand to Hand combat, I guess Third Echelon CQC isn’t acceptable for the US Marine Corp.  The I did some private security work for a place called Delta Force Security.  They had a lot of Third Echelon employees.  I didn’t agree with their training program, which was more shoot first ask questions later, so I quit.  You?”

                “Yard work, exercise, house is paid off and there are only the monthly bills so I have been keeping busy.  So, how’s Hansen?”

                “Techincally, I haven’t seen him in six months but we had dinner a week ago in Paris.  He flys in tonight, some liaison position with the DGSE.  It was very nice.  I haven’t been able to brush up on my French in a long time.”  I told him.  That had been an amazing night, especially desert.

                “Why exactly are you here?” he asked.

                “Well, tomorrow is the six month mark.  Your truck looks like it hasn’t moved in two years, mainly because it hasn’t, so you need a ride into DC and if you grow your beard any longer you will look like a Hermit.  From what I hear, the President is offering you a really cushy job, high paying, that you would still get to operate.”

                “And what job would that be?” he asked grabbing his own beer. “You usually bring more beer.”

                “Beer is expensive and I haven’t had a stable job in six months,”

                “You also have a rich foster daddy who loves you and is willing to buy you a Lamborghini, he would have given you money for beer.  So Paris?”

                “Yeah, so, have you visited Sarah yet?”

                “No, I haven’t you visited your parents lately?”

                “Every Friday,” I told him. “I visit Lambert, Regan and Sarah while I am at it.  She says hello.”

                “Which one, Regan or Sarah?”

                “Both,”

                My phone rang and I took another swing of the beer before answering. “Hello?  Madame President, of course, no I haven’t seen any of my old friends from Third Echelon intentionally.  I was in Paris last week and I ran into Ben, we had dinner and caught up but I didn’t know he was there.  You need us at the White House now?  Yes ma’am, right away.”

                “Well, at least I haven’t started the steaks.”

                “I would go shave, you look like a bum,” I said.  He flipped me the bird and walked inside.  I smiled and took another swing of the beer.  This was going to be interesting.  When we arrived at the White House and walked into the Oval Office, President Caldwell stood up.

               "Ah, Commander and Chief Fisher, sit." she said pointing to the sofa.  Grim was already there with Sheila.  

              "Who?" we both asked.

              "Sam, sit.  You to Abigial."

              "What is going on?" I asked Grim.  She shrugged.

              "Okay, I called all four of you in early because I need you to run a new division for me.  This division is called Fourth Echelon.  Grim is Director, Sam is Commander and Chief, Abigail is Cheif of Operations and Reichs is Cheif Techincal Analyst.  You all know what you are doing.  So, I expect the same thing I got from Third Echelon.  Complete invisiblity and no footprints.  Got it?"