Advance to the Rear (Strike Force Book 3)

by Desiree Holt

  But somehow the word had leaked. Jamal had never found out how or who had such loose lips. But the infidels had arrived, had searched every bit of the village to find the explosives. It had been unfortunate that those compiling the materials hadn’t stored them in stable situations. As the soldiers had begun removing them to waiting trucks, a spark had set off the first detonation and it had grown into a full-fledged conflagration.

  When at last it had been contained, parts of the village had been left in ruins. The ‘less fortunate’ areas, as some idiot had said. ‘Poor’ was how Jamal and his friends described it. They had all grown up with hope in the midst of poverty. Now their hopes lay smoldering in piles of rubble that had once been container houses built with sweat and hard labor. Some were houses crafted of all-wood and others were built with painstaking effort from palm fronds, raffia matting and wood.

  Gone, leaving families homeless.

  No one had ever blamed the men who had collected the explosives for not storing them in a proper manner. No, all the blame had lain with the foreign soldiers who had stormed in and dragged them out in a careless manner. He’d vowed vengeance then, and in a big way. His burning rhetoric was what had led the recruiters to him and his friends. The blaze of hate inside him had rekindled with a big swoosh. His anger had been a white-hot flame. When he had been approached for this mission, he’d accepted without any hesitation. And because the other three were his good friends, they’d been recruited as well.

  Almost before they could turn around they’d been shipped off to the training camp in Mexico where their ability with firearms had been refined and they’d been educated in the building and use of explosives.

  At the end of each day, after evening prayers, one of the leaders in the training camp would gather everyone together for a fiery speech and vitriolic denunciation of nonbelievers. Infidels. Traitors to the cause. At the end of each of these he’d been inspired, his blood thirsty for retribution. The four of them, their tight little group, would sit in their tent afterward, wondering what their assignment would be and how many of the infidels they would in fact be able to kill.

  All of that had rattled through his brain as he’d tossed and turned in his bed. Vengeance was primary. So be it. His personal feelings must be put aside for the successful completion of his mission. He would trust Malik’s future to Allah. Perhaps his situation was simply another contribution to the winning of this never-ending fight.

  He let out a slow breath.

  “Yes. Of course. Let me just pray a moment.”

  He glanced at Malik and the two of them knelt and prostrated themselves on the floor beside the bed, reciting the Islamic prayer to heal the sick. Then they rose and looked directly into Malik’s eyes which burned with religious fervor.

  Go with Allah. Kill the infidels.

  They each gave a brief nod before turning and leaving the room. Jamal didn’t know what this whole charade was about.

  He turned and marched out of the house, Kasim behind him, Rafiq and Salman bringing up the rear. Rafiq spoke in an undertone to the man who had shown them into the bedroom and who had not spoken one word up until now. Then they were in the van and headed back to the house where they were staying.

  * * * *

  Joe Trainor had called and set a meeting at the rodeo grounds with the event operations manager and some of his staff. Joe and Slade each drove their vehicles from the meeting. Novak rode with Joe and Slade had Beau, Marc and Nikki with him. When they arrived, they discovered the chairman of the board that governed he rodeo was there as well.

  “I’m hoping you can fill me in on this,” he told Joe. “The rodeo has been going on for generations and is an icon of the area. As chairman it’s ultimately my responsibility for whatever happens here.”

  “And we want to make sure you’re fully informed,” Joe told him. “And here’s the gentleman who can answer all your questions.”

  He introduced Hofler and the chairman got all his questions out.

  “I’m going to trust you all to do your jobs,” he said at last.

  “We’ll do our best,” Hofler assured him. “We’re hoping the visible presence of nearly two hundred law enforcement officers on the security staff might be some kind of deterrent, although with terrorists it doesn’t seem anything gives them pause. However, we have our own little group here, which includes the county’s finest top officers plus members of a Delta Force team.”

  “I can’t ask for more. Okay, then. I’ll let you get to it. Just please keep me in the loop.”

  Now they all stood with the operations manager and some key staff members at Gate G of the AT&T Parkway. They had decided to start there, since it was the gate that all the vendors used to come and go and Slade wanted a visual of the process.

  Marc looked at the group standing on the pavement at the rodeo grounds and tried to assess the situation. Anyone observing might think it was mass pandemonium, but he knew from all his years in the military it was in fact chaos organized with precision. The food operators were setting up both inside one of the large buildings and in the large open area outside that facility. Loaded hand trucks were whisked around everywhere and people yelled orders to workers.

  People shouted back and forth. In the carnival area set up in one corner of the grounds, the games and rides were being given a final run-through. And over it all was the continuous sounds of animals—cattle lowing, goats bleating, horses whinnying.

  Marc took it all in, memorizing every detail, looking at it through experienced eyes. What he saw wasn’t an entertainment venue but a massive target for terrorists, with hundreds of thousands of lives on the line. Whoever had picked this as a target had chosen well. They would have one fucking hell of a job containing this. He was glad the large security force would be tasked with the general safety of the people so Slade and the team could concentrate on finding the terrorists and taking care of them before they did any damage.

  “We announced over the general address system before you got here that we were starting our usual security checks today,” the operations manager told them. “I needed a reason for all of you to be here scoping things out. I assume you didn’t want to raise anyone’s suspicions?”

  “Good thought,” Joe Trainor said. “I figured you’d cover our asses some way.”

  “And that was the easiest. Now. There’ll be guards on the gate here checking the credentials of every vendor who comes through here. Joe, you know what a tight ship we run here.”

  Trainor nodded. “I do, but this knocks everything up a lot more notches. We’re going to have people here with wands checking under, over and around every vehicle. Maybe even inside, if we think something is suspicious.”

  “Shit, Joe.” The manager shook his head. “That will take forever to get them in here. We work hard to avoid a jam as it is.”

  “Would you rather have a bunch of pipe bombs in here blowing everyone and everything to kingdom come?” Slade asked.

  The manager rubbed a hand over his face. “’Course not. You know that. I was just thinking out loud. I’ll figure out a way to keep things moving and also not piss off the vendors, since we sure as shit can’t tell them what the fuck’s going on.”

  “Let’s follow the path the vendors take to their parking lots and also how they move their merchandise into their booths.”

  They spent the next hour in golf carts crisscrossing the entire area, checking everything from the food sites to the livestock barns. Then they walked both the Freeman Coliseum and the AT&T Center. The entire time everyone had their cell phones out, checking the photos in case by some stroke of luck they spotted one of the terrorists. All Marc could think was what a nightmare this was going to be. And they still had to check the exhibits and other ancillary facilities.

  Marc sat in the back seat of one of the carts with Nikki, holding tight to her hand, watching Beau in the front seat scan the rooflines of every building. He obviously had to pick his place. He was only one man, after all. Trainor
and Hofler had both said they would provide additional snipers but Marc knew his friend trusted no one but himself. Still, he could only be in one place at a time, so it was critical they plan on the ground where the terrorists would most likely be moving and go from there.

  “We can’t eliminate the possibility of suicide vests, either,” Slade said when all the carts had come to a stop to compare notes. “That’s become a signature of these attacks. The final big blowup. Whatever plan they have for bringing in the pipe bombs, they’ll be using the same means to get the vests in.”

  “Hofler’s bringing us more people with security wands,” Joe reminded him. “Frank Novak here will be leading a team of deputies who have trained for just such a thing. They won’t be in uniform and they’ll be circulating everywhere checking everyone out. And they’ll also have the pictures on their cells.”

  “And you trust their abilities,” Slade persisted.

  Trainor huffed his impatience. “I know where you’re coming from, Donovan, and I can’t argue with that. If I were in your shoes I’d feel the same way. But let me assure you, our men don’t want a disaster any more than you do. Like I said, these men have been specially trained for this kind of situation, plus I have my own two guys here.”

  As they stood there the cell phone in Slade’s pocket vibrated and he yanked it out. He looked at the readout before he answered it.

  “Hey. I know you were tied up with family stuff, and your leave’s not over yet. I just thought I’d give you a shout-out in case you were getting bored.”

  He smiled at whatever the answer was.

  Marc leaned over to whisper in Nikki’s ear. “I’ll bet that’s Trey and he’s done with his family obligations. Maybe we got lucky after all.”

  “How soon can you get here?” Slade asked the caller, then paused to listen. “The rodeo grounds. Okay. Hang on. I’ll tell you what gate to use and where to meet us. Yeah. Right.” He double checked the information with the operations manager, then repeated it. “Okay. Good copy.”

  “He’s coming,” Marc said as soon as Slade disconnected the call.

  Slade nodded.

  “Who’s coming?” Joe asked.

  “Trey McIntyre, the fourth member of our core team. He’s Beau’s spotter and a crack shot himself. He’s been visiting with his family. ”

  “I hope I don’t have to worry about a bunch of you running around shooting off your guns,” the operations manager said, a scowl creasing his forehead.

  Joe snorted. “Have you ever known us to do that? Anywhere?”

  “No, but this is different.”

  “Exactly,” Joe agreed. “This is different.”

  “What about the rest of the security?” the manager asked.

  Marc noticed Slade doing what he always did in situations like this—watch and wait. He said he always got more information that way and also figured out how not to step on anyone’s toes while still taking charge.

  Joe pointed his thumb at Frank Novak. “Frank is going to be in charge of the law officers for this part of the operation. Sheriff Vasquez called you, right?”

  The operations manager nodded. “My chief of security will coordinate his crew with you, Frank. But as you know, they’re all peace officers in uniform, so your guys are not likely to go anywhere near them.”

  “My people will all be in civilian clothes, blending as much as possible.”

  “Do you happen to have cameras installed around the grounds?” Slade asked.

  “We do,” the manager told him. “We installed them last year. Let’s go take a look at the monitoring station.”

  Marc was pleasantly surprised at the high-tech setup. He always thought how much better it was to work with people who had their shit together.

  Slade turned to Hofler. “This should be our command center, don’t you think?” He glanced at Joe. “Your opinion?”

  “I agree. We’ll have comms set up with everyone on our team. This will give us eyes on everything from here and a way to keep in touch.”

  “The bomb squad will be set up and ready so if we spot something—and I hope to fucking hell we do—they can deal with it at once.”

  By the end of another hour Trey McIntyre had joined the, and been given a tour. They had marked another map of the grounds with places to put security checks and station members of their group. They also set up a routine to coordinate the patrols. They all had their assignments.

  “We open day after tomorrow,” the operations manager reminded them. “Tomorrow will be our busiest pre-opening traffic day. If anyone is going to sneak anything in, that’s when they would do it.”

  “I don’t think the terrorists themselves would sneak in with the vehicles,” Slade told him. “They’d just need a friendly truck driver willing to hide their stuff so it passes security into the rodeo grounds. Then they could walk in with the rest of the public and retrieve the explosives.”

  Again they went over security at the public entrances and how many people would be checking where the vehicles were parked for anything that looked even the least suspicious.

  “Remember,” Marc added. “They’ve been training for this for quite a while. And surviving is not an option for them. Suicide is considered an honor.”

  The operations manager scratched his head. “That whole philosophy baffles me.”

  Trey snorted. “Join the crowd. Listen. Has anyone thought about bringing dogs onto the grounds? They could save us a lot of time, right?”

  “Yes, and yes,” Joe answered. “But here’s the deal. We don’t want a bunch of guys walking around with bomb-sniffing dogs every day and scaring the shit out of everyone. So yes, we will have dogs here, but they will be comfortably housed in special trailers until we need them. If Nikki spots any of these guys, we’ll put the dogs to work right away.”

  “And you’ll have enough to cover the entire grounds?” Trey persisted.

  “We will. This is a joint operation with several agencies. We’ll make it work.”

  “Okay, good. Thanks.”

  “All right,” Joe said, “everyone’s got their assignments. Slade, you comfortable with the setup?”

  “I am. We still need to check for the optimum location for Beau and Trey. The idea is to try and spot these men before they get the bombs placed. Certainly before they set any of them off. But if push comes to shove, we need to take them out before they pull the triggers. Joe, you and I will be in the electronics room monitoring the cameras and watching for anyone that sets off alarms. We’ll be depending on Frank and his crew to physically eyeball people, which will be damn tough in the crowd.”

  “It’s difficult not knowing which day they’ll decide to hit.”

  Slade nodded. “No shit. These guys don’t necessarily use logic. So, tell everyone to be prepared for long days ahead.”

  “No problem.”

  “Okay, then.” Slade looked at his watch. “Let’s rendezvous at the vendor gate at five tomorrow morning. Everyone dress down to fit in. And look sharp.”

  When they reached their vehicles and everyone but the Delta Team and Nikki had left, Slade turned to each of them.

  “I think we need to meet somewhere private. Everything we went over today is well and good, but we all know how easily an op can go sideways. We need to make our own preparations. I’d say let’s head for the ranch, but we’re all here in the city.”

  “We can go to my place.”

  Marc was startled when Nikki spoke up. She’d been noticeably silent through the entire process.

  “You good with that? Having us there for a head session?”

  “Of course. We need to do whatever it takes to stop this, and my place is the most convenient.”

  “Thank you.”

  Marc took Nikki’s hand and gave it a gentle squeeze, the kind that always eased any worries or panic.

  Like now.

  “Yes,” Slade agreed. “Thank you.”

  “Okay, then.” Marc looked at his team leader. “Slade, if you
’ll get us back to our wheels, we’ll head on over.”

  “You all have the address?” Nikki looked at the other team members. When they nodded, she added, “We’ll stop at that great bakery near my complex and get some goodies.”

  “I’ll take care of it,” Slade told her. “It’s the least I can do.”

  Marc was very aware of how silent Nikki had been for most of the meeting. Even though she’d spoken up to offer her place for them to gather, he still had no idea what was going on in her brain. As soon as they were alone in their rental car he intended to find out.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Suicide vests had been on the final list Jamal had seen of the supplies they’d be provided with. The possibility had been discussed back in Niger and certainly at the training camp in Mexico. Up until now, however, he hadn’t seen them. He began to wonder if perhaps whoever was really running this had had a change of heart. But, after they all said their morning prayers, Rafiq sent the other two men to the garage. When they returned, they had several boxes, which they placed on the dining room table. Rafiq indicated that Jamal and Kasim should help empty them.

  The box on top held two padded canvas vests, each with multiple inside pockets. The other boxes they opened and removed the contents with extreme caution—sticks of dynamite, fuses, bags of shrapnel and nails and plastic bags to stuff them into so each little vest pocket was filled to capacity. Once the detonator was activated and the dynamite exploded, the dispersal of the shrapnel and nails would do incredible damage to anyone it hit.

  “For your trip to heaven and the virgins waiting there for you,” he halfway joked. “This is a very important assignment for you and Kasim.”

  “And an honor,” Salman added.

  Jamal looked across the table at Kasim, who gave him a slight nod.

  Yes. Also for Malik and Farid.

  “These vests, as I am sure you know, will provide additional impact. We are going for maximum effect here. You will each have a detonator to control, but I will hook them up to cell phones also.” He looked from one man to the other. “Just as a failsafe, you understand.”