by T C Miller
“Wait just a minute,” Chopper broke in again. “We need to discuss payment some more...I still say it’s a suicide mission...Too many things can go wrong.”
“Are you saying five hundred thousand dollars is not adequate?”
“Considering the risks...”
The Commissioner looked past the camera at his partner. “I told you he might be a problem...”
Chopper shook his head as he stood. “No problem, old man...I’ll just take my hundred thousand guarantee and leave...No hard feelings.”
“It is not quite that simple, Mister Chopper. I gave you ample opportunity to leave before reading the plan, yet you chose to stay. Now, I am afraid, you know too much about the operation.”
The lodge manager stepped out of the kitchen and walked up to Chopper carrying a dish towel. He stood six feet away at parade rest, with his hands clasped behind his back, facing the operative.
“So, what you’re telling me is I’m going on this mission, whether I want to or not?”
“No, what I am telling you is I know of your conversations with adversaries of the Consortium. Did you think we would be unaware of your meetings in half-a-dozen locations and encrypted telephone conversations? It occurs to me you might attempt to sell information about this operation to others who would pay handsomely. Quite frankly, I find your arrogance to be unsettling.”
The Commissioner nodded twice and the lodge manager brought his hands from behind his back, revealing a pistol he had hidden under the dish towel.
Chopper realized his predicament in the blink of an eye. A look of scorn was replaced by desperation. His right hand went behind him as he groped for the pistol in a waistband holster. At the same time, he held his left hand in front of him, as if to shield himself from the inevitable. It was the last conscious action of his life.
The lodge manager fired a single round from his weapon. It passed through Chopper’s hand and into his right eye.
The mercenary sank to his knees and pitched forward toward the expensive rug, as the lodge manager quickly placed the towel exactly where Chopper did a face-plant. It saved the rug from a hard-to-remove stain.
He motioned for Pit Bull to take the dead man’s arms as he lifted the feet. They carried the body through the kitchen door and Pit Bull returned a few minutes later, wiping blood off his hands with another towel.
All eyes turned to the Commissioner. “I am sorry you had to witness that rather crass display. It became apparent to us quite some time ago that Chopper’s allegiance to us had diminished. He has been under observation long enough to prove his treachery and has now paid the price.
“Moving on...There will be no need for a replacement. Your team is quite capable of completing the mission, especially with the addition of Jack. You will split Mister Chopper’s fee among you.”
A satisfied murmur arose from the team.
The Commissioner paused as if waiting for something to happen and less than a minute later, the kitchen door opened. The man who joined the team of mercenaries walked with a confident air and a slight smile.
“I would like to introduce a man you may refer to as Irish,” the Commissioner said. “He will lead the group that follows you in the attack on Cheyenne Mountain. Their goal is to provide distraction and slow the expected response of reinforcements. He is an experienced professional with an extensive background in American law enforcement at the national level.”
The new arrival shook hands with each member of the team and sat down in the chair that had been occupied by Chopper.
“Thank you, Commissioner. I’ve read the plan and am happy to be working with professionals of the highest caliber.”
“You are welcome, Irish. We are pleased to have you as part of our organization.”
Jack Morgan smiled and waited for the Commissioner to continue. Besides, pay’s a lot better than the DEA.
***
CHAPTER 13
DOWNTOWN SHOPPING AREA
ESTES PARK, COLORADO
“Stopping here for lunch and some walk-around time was a good idea,” Dog said as he kept a watchful eye on the two young women walking in front of them.
“Thought it would give them time to decompress from Boulder and let them bond a little more,” Gwen replied. “The guys in the van unnerved them more than they want to admit.”
“Think you’re right...Tried to put up a brave front, but you could tell they almost peed their pants.”
“Don’t blame them...At that age, I would have been terrified at the thought of people trying to kidnap me.” She involuntarily shivered.
“Really? Figured you were always tough...You know, high school athlete...tomboy.”
“Are you saying I’m not attractive?”
“No, no, not at all.” He threw up his hands.
“Sorry, guess I’m a little thin-skinned at times,” answered Gwen. “Not easy being a woman in a male-dominated field. We’re usually relegated to escorting women to the ladies room and baby-sitting.”
“I like tough women...And I don’t look down on female operatives.”
“You probably work well with women...Otherwise, why would Joan hire you? Like I said, I’m...What’s wrong?”
“Green shirt and Colorado Rockies cap...Tailing us from across the street.”
Gwen moved only her eyes behind her dark sunglasses to avoid giving away her scrutiny of the figure standing in front of a book store. He was pretending to peruse items displayed in the front window and using the reflection to track them.
A UPS truck pulled in front of the store and blocked any further view. A young man in the familiar brown uniform hopped out of the driver’s seat and hurried to the back doors of the oversized delivery van. He was double-parked on the narrow street and vehicles behind him nearly collided with cars coming from the other direction as they attempted to go around.
“Can’t see him...He can’t see us...Why don’t we move up closer to the girls,” Gwen suggested.
Dog nodded.
They picked up the pace and were touching distance away from their charges in a matter of seconds.
Star glanced over her shoulder. “Something wrong?” her voice trembled slightly.
“Naw, Cupcake...Thought we might lose you in the crowd...”
“You’re insulting my intelligence.”
“You know I don’t like too much distance between us in crowds. Besides, I always tell you if there’s a threat, don’t I?”
“I guess so.” She stared at the sidewalk.
He put his finger under her chin and tilted her head back to look her in the eye. “Your job is to have fun...Let me worry about everything else, okay?”
“Okay.”
They walked a few more steps and the girls launched themselves into a tiny shop that sold hippie-style merchandise.
“Can’t believe that stuff’s back in style,” Dog commented.
“It’s Colorado...Never went out of style,” Gwen replied. “Since we’re out of earshot of the girls, tell me the truth...You think we’re being followed?”
“I always assume...”
“Don’t jack me around...Answer the question,” she said in a low sharp voice only he could hear.
“Gut says yes...That enough?”
“How you want to play it?”
“Not much we can do with only two of us...No team to lay a walking trap...Girls won’t wanna go back based on a hunch. Might be safer to go on to the campground...Be others covering us...Isolated enough to pick up bad guys moving in.”
“Sounds good, but how do we tear them away from this charming little town?”
“Tell them all the things they’re gonna face in the dark if we don’t get going.”
“You do have a cruel streak...Should be called Junkyard Dog.”
“I was.”
CONSORTIUM UNDERGROUND SITE
DEER TRAIL, COLORADO
“Are arrangements made to capture girls?” Rick asked.
“Quiet,” Gregori whispere
d.
Rick moved closer to his associate until they were almost touching. “Everything is ready?”
“Sergei calls with encrypted phone to say they are near campground, disguised as Russian Forest Rangers on exchange program.”
“Idiotic program set up by simpletons at Kremlin...”
“But, serves our purpose well. He will call when they have killed everyone except girls...We are to meet at safe house in Aurora.”
“They have instructions to search for ledger?”
“Yes. While they are in forest, two men will search dormitory rooms in Boulder...Everything is set.”
“Good. When added to funds from Mather, we will have over one billion US dollars...Even before we are selling weapons...Then we implement rest of plan.”
“You speak often of plan, but I, myself, have not heard details,” Gregori said. “Perhaps, is time you tell what they are, yes?”
“Shall we walk around fence?”
They climbed the steps wrapped around the elevator and stepped out into the bright afternoon sun.
“I only now realize there are no bird sounds below and no warm sun on my shoulders.” Rick said as a gust of prairie breeze blew across their faces. “Now I know what submarine crews experience underwater for months.”
“I am thinking maybe underground is better,” Gregory replied.
“Now, we cannot be overheard...I will tell you of plan far beyond what we have done...Plan will open US Treasury like glass piggy bank shattered by hammer...We will have billions in gold and diamonds and safe passage wherever we want.”
“I do not doubt you, but why would they pay?”
“When major city and millions of lives hang in balance.”
BSOG COMMAND CENTER
CHEYENNE MOUNTAIN, COLORADO
“Disappeared?” Bart asked the question out of curiosity, not an indictment of his agent.
“They thought this out, boss,” Jake replied.
The group had gathered around Bart’s console to compare notes.
Jake nodded toward Joanna, who sat in a gray, rolling office chair next to him. “We worked with sat image analysts over a live video feed. Eichner had five semis, painted all the same, headed toward all points of the compass...”
Joanna picked up the narrative. “One headed north to Cheyenne on I-25, while another went south toward Colorado Springs...A third drove west toward Vail on I-70 at the same time another trucked east toward Kansas City. They even had one go northeast on I-76, which joins with I-80...Gonna be a bear tracking them down.”
Bart leaned back in the creaking office chair and took a sip of steaming black coffee. “Can we have local authorities stop them for vehicle inspections?”
“Problem is the sheer number of other vehicles painted that way,” Jake answered. “An ad for milk...Must be a dozen more out there with similar paint jobs.”
“All from the same food service company?”
“Five we’re tracking come from the same Allied Food Service terminal in Fort Collins.”
“Have you asked Allied which of their trucks would be traveling those routes?”
“Haven’t gotten that far, yet.”
“Start there...Takin’ legitimate trucks out of the equation can narrow it down. Also, were all tractors the same?”
“Guess they couldn’t find enough identical ones,” Joanna answered. “Some are slightly different shades of red and different model years. We’ve already grouped them...Doesn’t seem to be a pattern...”
“Yes, but if you subtract the ones that came from Allied, somethin’ might just jump up and bite you in the butt,” Bart said. “Try it.”
He turned to his console and went back to work on a summary report for the Director, who was due back in the office on Monday. Wonder what kind of mess Hawkins left?
The group reassembled an hour later and Jake opened the conversation, “That reduced our pool of suspect vehicles to seven...Put a BOLO out...Two have been cleared.”
“Droppin’ them off the list...Where were the others goin’?” Bart inquired in his signature drawl.
“Again, five different directions...”
“Give it another hour...See what turns up.”
GOLDEN EAGLE GUEST RANCH
PIKE NATIONAL FOREST, COLORADO
The Commissioner finished his briefing and the screen went blank. Buster had been given command of the group and stood next to the fireplace. “First of all, let’s clear the air...No telling what Chopper was up to...Prob’bly had it coming. Thoughts?”
Nobody responded, so he continued, “We have a job to do and we’re going to do it the best way possible...Partly because we’re getting paid an insane amount of money, but also because we know what’ll happen if we fail. Don’t know of many operators who retire from this business...Usually end up in some godforsaken part of the world in an unmarked grave. With that in mind, I’ll ask one more time...Is everybody in?”
The team was silent.
“Good. Pull out the plan and we’ll go ever it in detail...Got two days of practice and gear prep...Not a lot of time.”
“I have some questions, first,” said Twister.
“Like what?”
“Is Buster your real name?”
He chuckled. “No...What my friends called me when we were young...short for Head Buster.”
“Cool...Next, how we gonna get into Cheyenne Mountain dressed as Air Force guys? Most of us don’t exactly look military.”
“True, but not a problem...We’ll be a weekend painting crew from Civil Engineering. They do a lotta stuff then to avoid disruption. Most of us’ll be in full-body protective suits...all they’ll see are faces.”
“Someone had their thinking cap on...”
“As usual. Bantam goes in as driver of the step van and I ride next to him, since we do look military. Once inside, we go straight to the target in the back...There’ll be an attack at the front while we gain entrance to the BSOG area.”
“BSOG?” asked Bantam.
“Black Star Ops Group, tinhead...The ones we’re after, remember?”
“Whatever...sorry.”
“Stay with me. Another thing...No more alcohol or drugs before the op.”
“Now, wait just a minute,” Pit Bull exclaimed. “Never heard of such a thing...Some of us need a little help, you know.”
“Ain’t my rules...Part of the plan...Keeps everybody clear-headed.”
“Sounds like they’re just yanking our chain...Further we go with this, more it sounds like some goat rope cluster...”
“I get it...And if it makes any difference, I feel the same way. We’re adults...Should be able to manage ourselves. Remember, it’s only a few days.”
“Like Bantam said...whatever.”
“Good, let’s move on to the timeline. We leave here Sunday morning...takes two hours to get there. Sight-in weapons today and check your gear. We’ll do a walk-through at 1600.”
They headed for their rooms to try on the suits and military uniforms.
Consortium Strike Team Five gathered around the massive rustic dining table promptly at four. Most wore casual clothes, except for Jack, who was outfitted in a white, full-body protective suit, and Bantam, decked out in an Air Force uniform with staff sergeant stripes.
Pit Bull smiled when he saw them. “Gee, nobody said this was a costume party!”
“Up yours,” Jack mumbled. “Helps me get in the mood.”
“For what?”
Buster interrupted before the exchange could continue. “Actually, it’s a pretty good idea...In fact, starting tomorrow morning, we all wear the same gear we’re going in with. The lodge manager was in the Air Force and can check us out...Can’t afford to get stopped at the gate ‘cause somebody don’t look right...Anybody got a problem with that?”
Grunts were the only answer.
“Okay, let’s read through the plan a step at a time. When I come to your part, read what you’re supposed to do...Bantam, you first.”
&n
bsp; “I drive the van up to the outside gate and tell the guard we’re there to paint some colonel’s office.”
“What if he says he hasn’t gotten word?”
“I show him the fake paperwork and the all-access pass around my neck.”
“Good. What if he still says no?”
“Then you reach over me and shoot him with a suppressed pistol...and I drive like hell.”
“Not quite...What about the other guard?”
“Oh, yeah...I pull up and stop long enough for you to shoot him before he hits the alarm. One of us calls in an okay to the Entry Point Control Center and I go down the driveway into the parking area. But I don’t stop there...I drive into the blast door opening so it can’t shut...”
“Actually, it’ll try to close...Has hydraulic actuators that can crush the van like a beer can...But don’t worry, we’ll already be out of the van...It blocks an immediate response while we move on...Jack and Bull, what do you do?”
“Neutralize the guards at the blast door.”
“Okay, but let’s back up a minute...Let’s say, nothing goes wrong at the gate...What happens then?”
Bantam spoke, “I show the guard my pass...He lets us in...I drive slowly into the mountain and park.”
“Hope it goes that way,” added Buster. “We all get out and load the explosives onto the pushcarts...Flash our IDs and stroll right in. If there’s a problem, kill everyone you see before they trigger an alarm. It’ll be a few hours before shift change...Prob’bly be half-awake...If they’re awake, they die faster.”
GLACIER BASIN CAMPGROUND
ROCKY MOUNTAIN NATIONAL PARK
“Whew, can’t believe I’m out of breath from putting up a little tent...” Licia exclaimed. “Thought I was in better shape.”
“It’s the altitude,” Gwen noted.
“It’s that much different than Boulder?”
“Doesn’t seem like it would be, but it is...twenty five hundred feet higher...Should only take a day or two to get used to it, since you’re acclimated from your time on campus. We’ll take it easy for a couple of days...No long hikes, no climbing and easy swims.”
“There’s a pool?” Star broke in.