by Seeley James
I said, I wish I knew.
“Obscure term,” I said to Jannik. “Most army bases near the warzone were called a Forward Operating Base or FOB. A fobbit is a guy who never left the FOB. Never heard the hornets. Never dropped to the dirt, wondering if he was still alive. We called those guys fobbits in a not-nice way.”
“Heard the hornets?” Jannik mumbled. He turned a light shade of green the way people do when they hear casual references to warzones and realize how unprepared they are for the trial by fire ahead of them.
“When bullets fly within an inch of your ear, they sound like angry hornets.”
Jannik’s green darkened a shade. He turned to Dalsgaard and translated. Dalsgaard responded at length.
“He said the robot found blocks of C-4 spaced six inches apart all the way around the house. That’s 380 blocks visible.” Jannik took a deep breath. “Everything is wired to a central location inside. Video cameras surround the building. The robot is equipped to breach the front door. We have two snipers and an assault team standing by. We are ready to commit, but we are concerned about blowing the building.”
That much C-4 could blow a tunnel to Gothenburg, Sweden, a mere fifty miles across the Baltic from here.
“Do you have another sniper rifle you could loan my sister-in-arms?”
Jannik smiled. “Do you have a plan, sir?”
I looked at Mercury. “Maybe.”
CHAPTER 50
As I suspected, Dalsgaard had also spoken to Basel-Stadt’s Kommandant. Like hers, his men wanted the glory of taking down the terrorists while he wanted the option of having someone to blame should it all go to Acheron in a handbasket. As a bonus for him, all the news feeds coming out of Basel featured Kommandant. Only a few insiders knew it was Sabel Security. We’d left the glory for her.
Miguel and I went to the mobile command center and checked out the video of the bombs while Tania donned sniper gear and went to meet the other snipers.
The Danes’s robot had recorded the bombs in detail. Each bomb sat in a U-shaped metal container bolted to the side of the house at waist level. Each container had been coated with nuts and bolts as anti-personnel shrapnel.
One power line ran to the building from the street. Our hopes of shutting down ROSGEO by pulling the plug were dashed when another video showed a new generator installation. We had to figure they had battery backup inside as well.
No one knew how many people were inside or who they were. The Danes tried using a thermal sensor that could identify people by heat signatures through walls, but the farmhouse had too much insulation. Only one car sat outside. It was a rental issued to Paladin. It was paid for by a credit card issued to Birth Right Christians, LLC.
Once again, no trace of Nema to be found.
“We believe they will blow the building if they feel threatened.” Jannik translated Dalsgaard’s concerns. “What we don’t understand is what they’re doing.”
“We don’t want them blowing the building,” I said. “We need to hijack their communications system so we can send a stand-down order to the terrorists on the ground. It has to come from their leadership, and it will have to contain special code words. We need that building and it’s gear intact.”
Miguel filled them in while I continued flipping back and forth through videos. Miguel said, “They plan to attack thirteen holy places as close to simultaneously as possible. Since different religions worship at different times, we believe they’re coordinating primary and alternate sites and services from here.”
“But different religions have services on different days.”
“Most religious communities keep their grounds busy with Bible studies, charity programs, community meetings, things like that. Combined with the time differences, they expect to have ample targets for their plan.”
“Why alternate sites?” Jannik asked.
“They’re trying to find the optimal number of people on the grounds with the least amount of security,” Miguel said. “They attacked a mosque in Morocco this morning. They expected that attack to raise the alarms at other sites. But the Moroccans kept a lid on it, which led to their delay. If the primary site is heavily defended or the service is cancelled, they’ll switch to an alternate site. What they don’t want to do is show up ready to kill and find an empty temple or cathedral.
“They intended to build the impression of a growing rush of Muslims seeking reprisals against Christians. Then they’ll stage Jewish attacks on Muslims, Christians on Hindus, and so on. They expect that everyone will attack someone else. Armageddon worldwide. And for all that to work, they need news feeds, fast internet, and a central point of control.”
Jannik discussed the scenario with Dalsgaard before returning with another question. “They only need one person to coordinate? And that person could be in a bomb-proof shelter inside the house?”
While they speculated, Mercury squeezed in next to me. Think there’s something wrong with those bombs, homie?
I said, They look like they’re anti-personnel, and they’ll hurt people near them, but that’s not their primary purpose. They’re rigged to blow inwards, not outwards. Why would they do that?
Mercury said, Good question.
Bianca called from Sabel Technologies. “We still haven’t figured out how they’re communicating with their suicide squads. They’re relaying internet traffic to a spectrum of hijacked servers and computers around the world, but in the end, they need to tell their teams go or no-go. How are they doing that? You need to get inside.”
I replied, “You haven’t seen the explosives rigged to the house.”
“Something is missing. They have one last trick, like the Yagi antennas, that’s making it impossible to trace. Get inside and see what they’re doing.”
“No problem.” I clicked off.
Mercury wasn’t the only one who wanted me to commit suicide.
Nice to know.
A monitor above me showed a shiny new Eurocopter approaching. It flew the French flag and the letters, GIGN on its side. Which could only mean my old friend Lieutenant Colonel Hugo had arrived.
Tania gave me her signal. Her newly formed sniper team was ready.
I said to Jannik and Dalsgaard, “Tell me about the robot. Does it have two-way video communications onboard?”
“Yes. We can talk to hostages and criminals over it. You want to send it inside?”
When I told him that was my plan, he had to discuss it with Dalsgaard. They argued before saying no. I explained that we need to know the communications system. They said it was an expensive machine, and then they looked at me as if to imply I should go in.
Mercury laughed. See, homie? Your real name is Jacob ‘Expendable’ Stearne. You’re not as valuable as a robot. Even Jenny sent you on your way hoping you’ll die saving the world.
I said, And we’re back to that not-motivational thing you do.
I tuned him out.
Hugo strode into the room, acting like a king. Again. Two aides followed him. The aides backed to the wall in the cramped space. Hugo rattled off French to no one in particular. Dalsgaard replied in French. Knowing people are talking about you in a foreign language tends to raise your paranoia level.
Mercury said, Remember my old pal, Oscar Wilde? He said the only thing in life worse than being talked about is not. Get on with what you’re doing, brutha.
I glanced at Miguel, who spoke French. He didn’t seem alarmed by their conversation, so I took my used god’s advice and focused on the job at hand.
I turned to Jannik. “We need to send the robot in. I need to see what’s inside.”
He and Dalsgaard spoke to Hugo. Something he said got the Danes nodding. They agreed to send in the robot.
Hugo removed himself a step from the situation. He gave me a polite nod. I couldn’t tell if he meant to arrest me after the operation or what. I decided to ignore him.
The robot operator sent the machine to the front door. It was a compact thing that looked like a m
iniature tank with funny arms reaching up from its knee-high body. One arm had an articulating hand with six fingers. The second arm had a bright light and pepper spray. The third arm had a camera and video screen. The operator put a tablet in front of me. If we encountered anyone, I would do the talking.
I sent Bianca a text about the robot going in. She replied that her people had hacked the robot’s feed and would be watching along with me. She’d text me if she wanted to see anything in greater detail. She noted that she had shared the feed with the FBI and CIA. I considered telling my Danish hosts about her hack then decided, what they didn’t know might not hurt them. After all, they would’ve preferred I commit suicide to save them the cost of a replacement robot.
The operator used the fingery-thing to open the door, which was unlocked. When the door opened, nothing greeted it but a dark and empty foyer with a staircase going up on the right. The robot went in, going slowly while scanning for tripwires or boobytraps. It wandered through a dining room and kitchen before finding a downstairs den.
The room glowed with video screens and green dots on computers and devices. I counted twelve screens and seven computers. A lone figure sat in a chair watching the screens, his back to us. Several news sites and video feeds were open in multiple windows on each screen. Some were blocked by his chair, and others were visible. The Chicago Tribune site and the Atlanta Journal were identifiable. Many of the others were in foreign languages.
The figure in the chair turned to face the robot. He wasn’t surprised to see my face on the screen.
“Jacob, how are you doing?” Paladin asked.
“Well, I killed Caleb in mid-air and shot the others in Morocco. I left one of them alive but paralyzed so he could squeal on you. In Basel, I kicked Lugh half to death and left him for the authorities. So, overall, I’m doing pretty damn good, thanks for asking. How about you?”
Behind me, I heard Miguel chatting with Hugo in French. I resisted the urge to shut them up because my paranoia was cranking up another notch. Instead, I focused on Paladin.
Bianca texted me. “On the desk behind him are several phones. They’re plugged into something. I need a closer look at the phones.”
I slid my phone to the robot operator sitting next to me. He read it. He scowled, then tapped her earlier text about hacking the robot’s video. He looked at me as if I’d betrayed him.
I rolled my hand for him to get on with it.
Reluctantly, he went back to his controls.
The video camera rose to Paladin’s eye level and peeked over his shoulder.
“I’m doing better than you.” Paladin gave me his movie-star smile. “I’m about to change the world. We’re minutes away. Would you like to watch me issue the final command?”
“You’re not waiting for the outrage to surge through Islam about the attack in Morocco?”
“It would appear they killed only six. The towelheads kill each other in bigger numbers than that every week, so that won’t go far.”
“But you’re waiting for something.”
His grin turned wistful. “You know how it is. Timing’s got to be just right.”
Mercury leaned over my shoulder. He’s waiting for Nema to give him the signal.
I said, Is she in the house with him?
Mercury said, How would I know? But I’d bet five thousand aurei she’s not the type to even enter a house wired to blow.
I said, Are the Yagis the only internet connection he has?
Mercury said, If you’re thinking she’s gonna email it in, then you should do something about that.
The camera rose another notch above Paladin to get a better angle. The operator moved the camera off the handsome face to follow the wires. USB cords connected the cheap phones to one of the computers.
Bianca texted us. “I need that computer or at least one of those phones. You have to retrieve it.”
The operator nodded when I slid the instruction to him.
Paladin’s eyes followed the camera. He asked, “You know the difference between a human and a robot, Jacob?”
“Yes, but I’m interested in your answer.”
“When you shoot a human, he may or may not die right away. He might stay alive long enough to shoot back. But when you shoot a robot—pretty much anywhere—it dies.”
I turned to the operator. “Is that thing armored?”
He shrugged. “It is a prototype.”
Paladin pulled a big revolver off his desk and shot the robot. The screens went blank.
CHAPTER 51
“SHIT!” the operator and I said in unison.
Tania repeated that her snipers were ready and frosty. Which also implied that if they didn’t act soon, they might lose their edge.
It was a gamble that the building would not implode when Tania did her thing. I flipped a coin in my head and told Tania to go when she was ready.
A minute later, she reported that her team had blown away all three Yagi antennas.
We waited. The building did not blow up.
I started for the door. Dalsgaard, Hugo, and Jannik started talking at once in three languages.
“I’m going in. We need one of those phones.” I grabbed Jannik’s pistol and walked out into the dark heading for the farmhouse. Miguel matched my stride with a Danish rifle on his shoulder.
I got six paces before Hugo caught up with me. He didn’t say anything. He held out his phone with a video playing. I took it and watched. The mosque in Morocco. The old men and boys shook and trembled as the Americans held 9-mils and rifles to their heads. After words were exchanged, the Moroccans dropped to their knees, heads down. The terrorists died a split second later.
Mercury stuck his head over my shoulder. Y’know who took that video, homie?
I said, Who? The cop and the civilian are in the frame. I’m in front of the camera. I didn’t notice someone standing behind me. Wait. You’re not going to tell me it was you.
Mercury looked offended. Dude. Please. We got people who record the acts of mortals for us. We never watch ’em though. Boring AF the first time around. Anyway, it was the cab driver. They caught him after you left in the boat. He had the video. That’s why they didn’t shoot you down.
Hugo said, “I owe you the apology. My aide confirmed your story with the Spaniards. They confirmed many things you said. Ms. Arrianne lied to me. You have been the true hero while I, well … I have been an old man.”
“Thanks, Hugo.” I looked him over as we walked. “Apology accepted. I understand. Arrianne is persuasive where men are concerned. I came close to falling for her myself. Now, you should go back with Dalsgaard.”
“Apologies are meaningless without the actions.” He kept looking and walking straight ahead at the farmhouse. “I go where you go.”
I glanced at Miguel.
My best friend shrugged. “We could use the help.”
The front door stood open. Miguel cleared the kitchen and dining room while Hugo bounded up the stairs. I went to the den.
In the center, with his chair pushed back, stood Paladin. A dead man’s switch in his hand. His thumb pressed it hard. He didn’t look like a handsome and famous celebrity anymore.
He looked like a scared boy. All his bravado during our video chat evaporated when three armed men invaded his space. Terrorists always dream of everything going according to some dreamed up plan, but when reality lands like a punch in the nose and their dream burns off, they begin to fall apart. Many terrorists chicken out at the last minute. That’s why Nema wanted squads—they kept each other on point. She never expected us to find her boy Paladin. And he never expected to end up holding a deadman’s switch as his world crumbled around him.
“This was her plan for you all along, you know,” I said.
“She had nothing to do with this. I’m in charge. I call the shots.” He waved at his equipment like he was showing off a new car. “I’m the visionary who came up with this plan.”
Mercury said, If you can get one hand on h
is bomb-switch, you can grab it out of his hands.
I said, You really don’t get these newfangled electronic gizmos, do you.
“Too late. She already admitted to her pulling all the strings. We can get you out of this. We know she used you, Paladin.”
“If she used me—” his lip trembled “—she did it well.”
“Yeah,” I slid to his left side. “She’s good at it, all right. Hey. Tell me again what makes it all worthwhile. I’m not getting it. Maybe I’ll convert.”
“Free Origins stands for everyone’s right to return to where they came from. People prefer people of their kind. Nature’s law. You don’t see birds—”
“I heard that bullshit from Nema.” I moved within reach of a couple phones.
Behind me, Miguel filled the doorframe. “I’m good with you going back where you came from.”
Paladin squinted.
“He’s Native American,” I said. “We’re all illegal aliens to them.”
Paladin nodded. “Figures.”
“Where will you go, Paladin?” I asked. “Where are you from?”
“Don’t worry about me. I have a nice little farm with trees, water—and all-white neighbors.”
He was still clinging to the dream that he’d walk out of there and live in a segregated world with his arm around little evil Nema. I almost felt sorry for him.
“Young man—” Hugo pushed past Miguel “—you have no need for doing this. Let me hold the trigger for you.”
Hugo stuck his shoulder in front of mine.
I understood what Hugo was trying to do. I didn’t like it at all.
Mercury said, It’s now or never, homie.
I said, I’m not going to leave Hugo here.
Mercury said, Two options: two people die here, or four people die here. You know Miguel won’t leave without you. So. What’s it gonna be?
I said, There has to be a way to defuse the bombs.