“He is in hiding.” Sameer croaked, his voice cracking. “Everyone is looking for him. Including his own people.”
“ISI has a bounty on him.” Balil glared at Mamoon. “You knew him. Where would he go?”
Mamoon stared at the pair open mouthed. “I knew him, but not well. If his own people are searching for him, surely they will find him first.”
“I want him,” Balil growled. “He is responsible for Tariq. I will have blood.”
Somewhere Above the Atlantic
* * *
ROGER TRIED TO sit quietly by himself on the flight home but the satellite television in front of him kept replaying the attack in Karachi. He slipped his headphones on and listened to the English translation of al-Jazeera.
As he listened to the death count slowly increase with each replay, he felt his cell phone buzz in his pocket. He pulled it out and glanced to the side to ensure that he was still alone. He glanced at the alerts and felt the color drain from his face.
International BOLO for Bobby Bridger, Jay Wolf, Deric Bundy, Jim McDougall, Gregg Soares, Steve Gibson and Viktor Teplov…believed to be harboring Muhammed al-Abadi, wanted for questioning in regards to the explosion of a bioweapons plant located in Karachi, Pakistan…
Roger groaned as he attached the alert to an email and sent it directly to Bridger and Wolf. The guys may be laying low, but surely one of them would see it. If they didn’t know before how deep they were in the shit, now they would.
He fought the urge to call Jeff Greenberg and inquire to their status. He knew that any contact at this point would only be one more way to tie him and all of the others to the shitstorm.
Roger leaned back in his seat and tried to block out the excited reporting on the television. He still had a long flight and wanted nothing more than to be on the ground with the guys. Even if it meant that none of them ever came home again.
20
Orlando International Airport, FL
* * *
AS SOON AS the plane touched down Roger was at the door and ready to make his way out of the airport. He felt his phone vibrate and he quickly checked the caller ID.
“Tell me you’re okay.” Roger couldn’t hide the worry from his voice.
“For now, we’re good. We’re about to secure transport and we’ll make our way to the airport.”
Roger could tell that there was something more. “And?”
“And I hate to ask you this, but I need you to work your way north to Langley.”
“You have GOT to be shitting me!” Roger quickly glanced around and noted a few pairs of curious eyes staring at him. “Medical emergency at the…um…proctology lab.” He gave the curious onlookers a crooked smile.
“I wish I were, but we have to get inside. Gregg says that their computers are air gapped. The only way to access them is to physically be there.”
“You want to break into the single most secure location on the planet?” Roger lowered his voice to a hoarse whisper. “Are you insane?”
“We’re already wanted for something we didn’t do.” Bobby smiled as he spoke. “We might as well do something to deserve their attention.”
“You are absolutely nuts, you know that don’t you?”
“I didn’t say it would be easy. But we have a plan.” Roger heard him cover the phone and speak to somebody else. When he returned, he could almost hear the laughter in his voice. “Gregg is going to send you the details. We just need you to do a little recon for us.”
“Sure! Why not?” Roger ducked low and covered the phone while he spoke. “We’re all going to prison, you know. They’ll toss us in there and throw away the key.” He snorted loudly. “Hell, they’ll throw us under the jail and melt the key into a spike to drive through our stupid heads!”
“Glad you’re onboard.” Bobby clicked off and Roger stared at his phone.
“Why do I even bother?”
Karachi, Pakistan
* * *
“ROGER’S WITH US.” Bobby tucked the phone into his pocket then turned his attention to the chain linked fence surrounding the compound. “You certain about the security here?”
Muhammed nodded slowly, his eyes scanning the compound. “The Humvees are located in that green building.” Bobby followed the outstretched hand and noted the large metal structure.
“Eyes on the structure. Third one in from the south.”
“Copy that.” Deric’s voice sounded static filled through the coms.
“How often does security make their rounds?” Bobby asked as he slammed a magazine into the well.
“At the top of each hour.” Muhammed turned and slumped behind the tree they used for cover.
Bobby glared at him. “That only gives us twenty minutes. That’s cutting it pretty damned close.”
Muhammed shrugged. “I used to check on them to ensure they were doing their jobs. We can either wait for them to pass or go now.”
Bobby keyed the coms again. “Your call. We can sit and wait to buy more time or we can go now.”
“We go now,” Jay responded. “We’re half way through the fence. If the patrols come by while we’re here, we’ll wait them out inside.”
“Copy that,” Bobby growled into the lip mic. “Move it.” He shoved Muhammed toward the fence and the pair shimmied under a low spot. “Why you couldn’t have brought your damned keys is beyond me.”
Muhammed practically whined as Bobby pushed him toward the target building. “I did not expect to be coming here. Besides, I do not maintain such things. I have people who do that for me.”
“Not anymore.” Bobby practically dragged him to the green metal building and checked the steel entrance door. “Locked.”
Jay appeared near the corner of the building and Deric approached from across the open expanse with Jim in tow. “Any of you boys bring a lock pick with you?”
Jim smiled as he opened his pack and withdrew a snap gun. He gripped the tensioner with his teeth while he loaded the tip of the gun. The men stood at either side of the doorway as he slipped the tension tool into the keyway then fed the snap gun in.
“That will never work. These are high end security locks. They are the best of the—” Muhammed was cut off midsentence as Jim twisted the tensioner and unlocked the door.
The men all filed inside and Muhammed pointed to the rear of the building. “Under those tarps.”
Jay grabbed one of the tarps and pulled it back. He glanced at Deric, who smiled broadly. “Somebody tell me that we have ammo for those thirties.”
Muhammed sighed heavily and pointed to a stack of crates. “Over there.”
Jay grabbed a crate of ammunition and pushed it into the rear of the Humvee. “Load up, fellas. We’re on the move.”
Bobby tugged at the other tarp and eyed the second Humvee. “This one looks like it caught the tail end of an IED.”
Muhammed nodded. “We pieced it together with parts from another such vehicle.”
“Made one out of two, did ya?” Bobby pulled open the door and slipped in behind the wheel. “How long have they been sitting?”
“They should start.” Muhammed crossed his fingers and offered a quick prayer. He sighed in relief when the diesel engine belched to life.
Jim positioned himself by the door. “We got company.” He slowly pulled the crack in the door shut and peered out of the small window. “They’re making a slow perimeter check.”
Muhammed nodded. “As long as nothing appears amiss, they should continue on their—”
“They’re entering the compound.” Jim cursed under his breath. He glanced back at Muhammed. “So much for a quick drive by.”
Jay ground his teeth as he marched to the door. “They probably assume that all of the goods are up for grabs if the whole world is looking for him.”
Deric loaded the machine gun mounted to the roof of the first Humvee and smiled at Jay. “Shoot our way out? Please?”
Jay groaned and glanced at Muhammed. “Tell me they don’t have radios.
”
Muhammed shrugged. “They may. Most certainly they will have cell phones.”
“Of course they do.” Jay turned and made a motion with his hand. “Load up. We’ll go over the top of them if we have to.”
Jim tossed a crate of ammunition in the rear of the second Humvee and began loading the machine gun. “This would be a whole lot easier if we already had uniforms.”
Muhammed groaned as he stepped up into the back seat of the first vehicle. “No you don’t.” Jay pulled him out and pushed him toward the roll away door. “You get to open the gates of hell when we give you the word.”
“B-but…I could be shot. They have weapons. I have none and—”
“We have weapons.” Jay pointed to the mounted machine guns then hefted his rifle. “Trust me, they’ll be more worried about us than you. Once we neutralize them, we’ll pick you up.”
Muhammed swallowed hard and stood beside the doorway, ready to hit the button that would raise the large metal doors.
Bobby gave Jay a nod then pressed the starter button on his Humvee. The desert tan armored transport belched black smoke before the engine revved down and idled. Jay got behind the wheel of the other Humvee then pointed to Muhammed, who slammed his fist into the button then stepped away.
Both vehicles charged out of the building and into the brilliant Pakistani sun in a cloud of black smoke. Muhammed ducked inside and away from the choking exhaust as gunfire erupted just feet away.
Langley, VA
* * *
AGENT DARREN CHESTERFIELD paced nervously in his office as the minutes ticked by. He would constantly click the mouse on his computer to refresh the webpage, praying that somebody had located Baba Yaga and Bobby Bridger.
A light knock at his door nearly caused him to jump. He spun to find an attractive blonde woman with a bruise on the side of her face staring at her shoes.
“Who are you and what do you want?”
She brought her eyes to his level and peered into the office. “Brenda Weston.” She stepped inside and extended her hand. Chesterfield stared at it as though she had sneezed a handful of snot into it before offering it to him.
She slowly withdrew her hand and pulled a folder from under her arm. “I work the Oklahoma City field office for the FBI.” She extended the file and Chesterfield leaned back in his chair.
“And just why would the FBI be knocking on my door at this hour?”
Agent Weston took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “I work for the CIA and—”
“Wait a second. You said you were FBI.” Chesterfield sat forward and gave her a questioning stare.
“I said I worked for the FBI. But I am a CIA field operative assigned to…monitor the Bureau. Specifically, their domestic terrorism investigations.”
Chesterfield rocked his chair slightly, a slow smile crossing his weathered and tired face. “And you are here…why?”
She handed the folder over again and placed it gently on his desk. “I understand you have an operation in progress that deals with one Robert Bridger, ex-operative for the agency?”
Chesterfield shrugged. “Do I?”
Brenda rolled her eyes and nodded to the file. “One of his accomplices is an FBI field agent. His name is Roger Wallace. We believe that he may be in Pakistan assisting Bridger.”
Chesterfield smiled and shook his head. “I doubt that seriously. The feebs are too tight assed to allow one of their agents to operate outside of their constitutional constraints.” He picked up the file and handed it back to her. “FBI only operates domestically.”
She shook her head and tossed the file back on his desk. “Actually, that’s not entirely accurate.” She crossed her hands in front of her and stared down at him. “Wallace may have copied some…shall we say, ‘sensitive’ reports, many of which came from your offices.”
Chesterfield shrugged. “Anything from our offices would be encrypted.”
She raised a brow at him. “And don’t they have computer experts working with this…” She pulled her pocket notebook and flipped through the pages. “Ah, yes. Baba Yaga International.” She closed the notepad and pursed her lips, waiting for him to connect the dots.
Chesterfield blanched and slowly stood. He turned and flipped the file open. He browsed through the stacks of papers and finally found the inventory for “suspected documents stolen.”
“How?” He turned and stared at her. “He’d have to have carried them out in boxes.”
She blew her breath out audibly. “We believe he used a USB flash memory stick.”
Chesterfield fell into his chair. “Those are illegal in government offices.”
“So is using access cards from a dead operator with a higher clearance, yet Wallace did both.”
“Allegedly,” Chesterfield added.
“Unless you intend to act as his defense attorney, we both know that he did it. This is a courtesy call and an informal heads up to the potential shit storm you’re facing if they decode those documents.”
Chesterfield turned and studied her more closely. “You say you’re with the agency? Who do you answer to?”
She gave him a lopsided smile. “That’s way over your pay grade, Agent Chesterfield. Just know that my boss thought you would be better off knowing what’s potentially out there.”
She turned to leave and Chesterfield quickly stood and pushed the door shut in front of her. “I’m getting really tired of everybody telling me that the sky is falling and it will all be pinned on my head.” He stepped between her and the door. “I want to know who the other players are.”
She gave him a knowing smile and reached around him for the door knob. “And yet, you’ll have to settle for guessing.” She pulled the door open and stepped into the hallway. “If my boss wants you to know more, I’ll be in touch again.”
Chesterfield opened his mouth to argue but she disappeared into the darkened hallway. He watched her form fade into the shadows then turned back to the folder she had left him. He dragged a finger down the list on the inventory and groaned. “They got everything.”
He fell into his chair and stared at the darkened sky outside. It suddenly felt like the sky really was falling.
And this time…it was his fault.
Karachi, Pakistan
* * *
SAMEER HUNG UP his phone and pulled Balil to the side. “That was one of my cousins. He used to work for al-Abadi. He just spotted a convoy of al-Abadi’s people heading east, away from town.”
“You think he is running?” Balil dropped his cigarette and stepped on it.
“I would if I were him. He should know by now that the entire world is looking for him.” Sameer spat on the ground. “His life is not worth a bucket of warm piss!”
“Easy, Sameer.” Mamoon placed a gentle hand on his shoulder. “I have contacts east of town. I will call them and see if any have seen this convoy. We can catch up to them once we know where they are going.”
“If we leave now, we can—”
“We could not get across town in time to catch them. Not with all of the emergency vehicles still making rounds. The police are searching for him, ISI is searching for him…I would believe that his own people are searching for him.” Mamoon shook his head. “With the price on Muhammed’s head, his most trusted would surely turn him in.”
“Then where would his people be going?” Sameer asked.
Mamoon shook his head. “They may think that he is hiding in one of his properties. They may be going to ferret him out for the reward. We cannot know.” He held a hand up. “But let me make a few phone calls. Perhaps we can deduce what is happening.”
“I don’t like sitting here, doing nothing.” Balil growled. He lit another cigarette and inhaled deeply. “I want to kill something.”
Mamoon groaned and held his phone tightly. “Has there not been enough killing today?”
Balil turned red-rimmed eyes to him and shook his head. “Not for me.” He turned and marched toward the parked cars. “N
ot until Muhammed’s head is removed from his shoulders.”
21
Karachi, Pakistan
* * *
“STEP IT UP!” Jay yelled. “I’m sure the locals are calling the police as we speak.”
Jim and Deric rifled through the remains of the two trucks and retrieved the cell phones. It appeared that none of the men had attempted a call during the firefight and no radios were found. The two jogged to the waiting Humvee and climbed into the rear. “We’re good, boss. Hit it!” Deric slumped to the floor of the truck and checked his magazines.
Jim tossed his empty magazines and noted the holes in the metal canopy covering the rear. “Looks like they got a few rounds off.” He stuck his finger into one and wiggled it.
“Thank god they shoot for shit.” Deric slipped his empties into the pouch around his waist. “Somebody call Jeff and get us some BD’s please. We stick out like a sore thumb in khaki pants and polos.”
Jay leaned to the rear window and held his phone up. “He’s meeting us now. Four clicks out.”
Gregg sighed and opened his computer. “I got a shit ton of work to do. Get us to the plane posthaste. I need the wifi.”
“Working on it bud. One step at a time.” Jay shoved his phone into his shirt pocket and pointed to the right. “Down there. By that garage.”
Steve turned the wheel and sent the machine toward the industrial-sized red and yellow garage. “You sure that’s the place?”
Jay pointed to the black Range Rover parked in front. “He’s there.”
As the pair of military trucks rolled to a stop, Jeff had the rear of his Rover open and was pulling out used but passable uniforms. He held the largest out to Bobby. “You get to be a lieutenant.”
Flags of The Forgoten Page 18