BlackStar Mountain

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BlackStar Mountain Page 17

by T C Miller


  The voice of his girlfriend yelled into his left ear as a burst of static from the radio pierced his right ear. He was concentrating on both when the blue step van passed through the vestibule opening, started to turn left to park, but at the last moment veered toward the opening into the underground complex. Cummings flipped over the clear plastic cover to activate the pop-up vehicle barricade, but it was too late.

  The van passed over it and was almost to the blast door as he pulled the lever that started the closing sequence for the door. The gigantic hydraulic cylinders that pushed the gargantuan door worked smoothly, but not quite fast enough, as the front end of the errant vehicle crossed the threshold. The door crushed the back quarter of the van against the door frame, wedging it in place and preventing the door from closing.

  “I’m hit,” one of the guards posted on either side of the door screamed, as he fell to the concrete.

  His counterpart on the other side of the entrance went down at the same time, as withering fire from automatic weapons cut him nearly in half.

  Cummings sprang to life and dropped both the phone and the mike. He hit the intrusion alarm button and an ear-piercing klaxon horn began a rhythmic earsplitting tone that penetrated every cubic foot of the massive cavern.

  He frantically fumbled for his rifle and almost dropped it as he pulled back the charging rod to insert a round into the chamber. He could hear Ivy frantically yelling his name from the cell phone that was now on the floor.

  The pungent smell of cordite greeted him as he ran out of the armored security center toward the blast door and the mangled van.

  He used his left hand to press the mike button clipped to his epaulet. “CMS Control, EP Control, we have a breach of the mountain...I repeat, a breach...Hostiles in the mountain...Two security members with GSWs, over.”

  “This some kind of prank, Cummings?...You screwing with us, again?” The tinny voice chuckled.

  “No joke...Two men down, two men down!”

  “You’re serious?”

  “As a heart attack...Get some help here fast.”

  “Roger that, EP Control...Scrambling response team, over.”

  “ETA?”

  “Twenty minutes...”

  “Faster...Going in after them.”

  “Negative, EP Control...Return to your post...Activate vehicle barricades and begin evacuation...Use Disaster Scenario Three, copy?”

  “Affirmative...DS-3...What about casualties?”

  “Drag them into EP Control, if they’re alive.”

  “Roger that.”

  “CMS, standing by.”

  Cummings checked the guard on the far side of the door and found no pulse. He ran to the opposite side of the van to find Airman First Class Ronald Franklin lying on the pavement with a pool of blood forming under him. “Ron, can you hear me?”

  The wounded man tried to raise up on an elbow, but fell back. “Yeah, Kade...Can’t get up.”

  “Oh, man, don’t die on me...”

  “Can’t breathe...”

  “Gotta get you into the Control Center and lock it down.”

  “Told Johnson we should fire...Said no...Some kind of mistake...Wait till I get my hands...”

  “He’s toast.”

  “Dead?”

  “Afraid so, buddy...Let’s get you inside...Stop the bleeding.”

  Cummings half-dragged and carried his wounded comrade to the Control Center, leaving a smeared trail on the painted concrete. He locked the door behind them and pulled the first aid kit off the wall. It was intended for minor injuries and lacked most trauma items.

  Kade used a roll of gauze and tape to slow the flow of blood on the young airman. “Hang in there...Help’s on the way.”

  “Better...get...back to work,” Franklin replied. “Need to start evacuation...”

  Kade pulled the red Emergency Action Book binder from a shelf above the bullet-resistant window. The section entitled Disaster Scenario Three was sealed in opaque plastic. He tore it open and used the Complex PA system. “This is EP Control. There has been a breach of the facility by unknown subjects...Commence evacuation using Disaster Scenario Three.. I repeat.. DS-3. This is not a drill...Repeat, this is not a drill.”

  His phone started ringing a few seconds later with security monitors asking questions. “Can’t talk...Use emergency tunnels...Evacuate, now!”

  NSA DIRECTOR’S OFFICE

  WASHINGTON, DC

  “Welcome, Director,” Justin said in the most sincere tone he could muster. “It is good to see you on your feet.”

  “Good to be back in the saddle.”

  “Everything is on your desk...coffee, croissant and an assortment of fruit. Your schedule is on the computer as well as the most critical intelligence briefs. Your first appointment is not for half an hour.”

  “Thanks, Justin. Please get John Banner on a secure line.”

  “Now? Do you want to read the briefs beforehand?”

  “No, get Banner, now.”

  “Morning, Director.”

  “You’re up early, John...Something happening?”

  “The usual...Plus, I’m finishing up reports on the Seawind Bay op. Taking down that smuggling ring wiped a dozen cases off the books...Also working with DEA to wrap up the case against Jack Morgan...”

  “Guy had a lot of nerve...crashing a DEA chopper into Seawind Bay and taking a Customs bird with him.”

  “Wish we’d found his body...Suppose it washed out to sea, or was eaten by sharks...Left a real mess...Appears he was in bed with the smugglers...Protected them on both the local and national level.”

  “I assume you’re following the money...”

  Banner interrupted, “Haven’t gotten as far as I’d like...Hit a lot of dead-ends, since much of it was classified. Accounts in his real name amount to less than ten thousand dollars...Must have offshore accounts under aliases.”

  “I’m sure you’ll uncover it all in due time. What else you working on?”

  “Still getting the BSOG settled into their new home in the mountain...Tracking down Eichner...And trying to root out the mole in the agency.”

  “Any progress there?”

  “Sifting through thousands of surveillance reports and comm analysis...Narrowed it down to two likelies.”

  “Who?”

  “Uh...I’m still working the data...”

  “Why are you being evasive?”

  “The two most likely suspects are Marvin Hawkins and Justin Todd.”

  “Justin? What proof do you have?”

  “That’s why I’m still looking...So far, it’s mostly circumstantial...Only concrete item is an encrypted satellite phone...”

  “I’m aware of it,” the Director replied. “Has an eccentric wealthy uncle living on an island in the Carribean...Uses the phone to communicate with Justin...”

  “But it’s encrypted...”

  “Did I mention this uncle is an international businessman who’s more than a little paranoid?”

  “Suppose that would account for the phone...But why does he leave the building to make calls? I had a team trail...”

  “You had my assistant tailed? Who the hell gave you the authority?”

  “You told me to follow the trail, no matter where it went. I’m not saying he’s the one...only a possibility.”

  “Yes, of course...I shouldn’t have overreacted. What other proof is there?”

  “Team trailing him couldn’t break the encryption, but they got Justin’s side of the conversation...Doesn’t sound right. I have them staying on it to see if we can track down who he’s really talking to. Also, to see if we uncover any overseas accounts.”

  “A spy?” the Director said. “Doesn’t seem like the Justin I know.”

  “You remember that Navy Captain NCIS busted for espionage a while back...Never saw that coming. And the leak appears to be coming from inside the agency.”

  “Good point. Hawkins...now, that I could believe...A duplicitous snake with no backbone o
r morals.”

  “Can’t argue with you...We’ve uncovered accounts in his wife’s name that amount to almost seven million.”

  “Source?”

  “Tracking it down, but seems that most comes from large corporations marked as consulting fees.”

  “Never mentioned her working.”

  “File says she doesn’t...Not registered as a lobbyist or business...Waiting for a warrant to check their tax records...Should be here anytime.”

  “Sounds like you have it under control.”

  “Speaking of control...Since both suspects have access to your phone system, I suggest we only talk over secure lines.”

  “Good point...Reminds me why I hired you.”

  “Wouldn’t use a cellphone either...Way too easy to intercept.”

  “Seems so unlikely either one of them would have been recruited to spy on me...Although I’d believe Hawkins sooner than Justin...Had to appoint him to the position...Pressure from the House Intelligence Oversight Committee Chairman...And you never heard me say that...The realities of Washington politics.”

  “Didn’t hear a thing.”

  “Thanks, John. You’ve been a faithful friend through a number of catastrophic incidents...Which brings up something we need to discuss.”

  “Yes?”

  “This little bout with the flu started me thinking about what corporations call an exit plan...And before you hit me with all the platitudes, let me tell you the real reason I’m considering retirement...I’m sick and tired of politics. I’ve worked under seven Presidents and always hoped the political mess would get better. It hasn’t and I don’t think it ever will...Time for a younger person to take up the fight and I can’t think of any better candidate then you.”

  “I’m, uh, flattered, of course...What time frame are we talking about?”

  Banner’s head was spinning and he tried to think of all of the ramifications of a move to DC. Vicky would need to request a transfer and they’d have to check out the real estate market.

  The Director continued. “First step would be a successor to head the west coast office.”

  “That’s easy...Been grooming Don Kuhn as my Deputy Chief.”

  “Good choice. Next item would be for me to fire Hawkins, even if it turns out he’s not the leak. Fortunately, I can appoint someone without Congressional approval...But, you can bet I’ll be hauled before a subcommittee to explain it.”

  “Who chooses your replacement and how do you know they’ll consider me?”

  “You would be the logical choice as the Deputy Director...I announce my retirement after a year...or two, at the most. The President and I belong to the same party...See eye-to-eye on most things. I can also call in some favors to make sure you’re approved. What do you think?”

  “Again, I’m flattered...But, have to run it by Vicky. It affects her career and DOJ has a hiring freeze on, right now.”

  “Don’t see a problem there...She’s a great lawyer and it’s a transfer, not a new hire. I have friends over there who can help find a slot...or create one. Any other concerns?”

  “Been talking about wanting a baby...She’s thirty six...Wants to decide before it’s too late.”

  “Can’t help you there...Don’t have friends in the maternity area.”

  “Neither do I, but it’s a real sticking point. I told her when we married I have a job that doesn’t leave a lot of extra time...especially for demands children present...Afraid a move would only complicate matters. Guess what I’m trying to say is, I don’t know if she’d be willing to come with me. But, I’ll talk it over with her and get back to you.”

  “About that...Why don’t you talk it over and come to DC...Give me your answer in person. We’ll time it with announcing the results of your investigation to the Senate Subcommittee. That way, they get to meet you...Two birds with one stone, and all that.” “Sounds good...one way or the other...Well, I see a couple of section chiefs standing outside my door to go over last nights intel...Need to give them my undivided attention.”

  “I’ll let you go...Call me if anything comes up.”

  John hung up the phone, exhaled and sat back in his executive chair. He looked around the comfortable room and wondered what it would be like to exchange it for the top office in the agency.

  INSIDE CHEYENNE MOUNTAIN

  Jack and Pit Bull each pushed a handcart loaded with disguised weapons and explosives down the aisle toward the back of the complex. They reached the first cross-aisle, when doors began opening on the buildings around them. A young blonde woman in a dark blue Air Force skirt with a light-blue uniform blouse timidly leaned out a door and addressed Buster, “Hey, what’s with the alarm?”

  He casually replied, “Who knows?...Maybe it’s gone blooey.”

  “What should we do?”

  “Head outside, I guess...Get some fresh air, courtesy of an equipment malfunction.”

  “Great! I can say hi to my husband...He’s working the front gate.”

  She smiled, and he smiled back.

  He looked down at the name tag on her blouse for the first time. Martin, same name as the front-gate guard who lay dead in the van.

  “Come on, guys,” he said to the others. “Got a job to do.”

  They continued walking and heard her yell back inside the office in an excited voice, “Hey, everybody, we get an extra break.”

  People began pouring out of buildings as they walked along and the attack team soon had to push their way through the growing throng, like salmon fighting upstream.

  The flow of workers gradually diminished and progress became easier. They turned a corner and saw their objective.

  Jack whistled. “See why we need the C-4...That’s the mother of all security doors!”

  “With some serious dudes behind it, I’ll bet,” Bull added.

  Buster broke in, “Start by taking out the cameras so they can’t see us packing C-4 around it.”

  They used suppressed weapons to destroy the cameras and began unloading the carts. A steady red light burned above the door.

  BSOG COMMAND CENTER

  INSIDE CHEYENNE MOUNTAIN

  “Boss...Need you up front.”

  Bart noted the near-panic tone in the young agent’s voice and moved quickly through the hidden panel in the fake office to the reception area.

  “What’s goin’ on, son?” he inquired of Seth Horvack, the twenty-eight year old rookie from Boston. Being lowest on the totem pole earned him the dubious distinction of the Sunday morning watch on the security console.

  “All four cameras out front just died.”

  “Technical malfunction?”

  “Not likely...Saw half-a-dozen men pushing two handcarts toward the door right before.”

  “We know them?”

  “No, sir...Wearing painter’s coveralls...Not scheduled.”

  “How’d they get all the way back here without security callin’? Don’t like the feel of this...You locked down?”

  “Tighter than a banker’s ass...Only way they get in here is a ton of explosives.”

  “Wouldn’t rule that out, son. Recall all off-duty personnel and tell them to come armed to the teeth.”

  A blinking red light appeared on the panel in front of Seth.

  “Entry Control at the front, sir,” Seth said as he reached for the phone.

  He spoke briefly to Staff Sergeant Cummings, then turned back to Bart. “Breach of the mountain, sir...Step van with men dressed as painters...Killed one up front...Wounded another.”

  “Grab your weapon and duty roster...Do the recall from inside the cavern.”

  Bart spun the combination wheel on the gun safe and removed a double stack of 5.6mm magazines. He stuffed them into the pockets of his BDUs and pulled out two extra rifles before closing the door and spinning the dial. “Ready?”

  “As I can be, sir.”

  Seth followed Bart into the fake office and stepped through the disguised opening to the cavern. Bart closed the door and loc
ked it. A few seconds later they heard a muffled explosion on the other side.

  “Whew...closer than stink on a skunk.”

  * * *

  CHAPTER 15

  GLACIER BASIN CAMPGROUND

  ROCKY MOUNTAIN NATIONAL PARK

  MIDNIGHT

  “Kinda early for teenage partiers to settle down,” Ted Belk said in a low voice. “Lot quieter than I thought they’d be.”

  “Visit from the park ranger earlier might have something to do with that,” Bob Onkst replied. “And the no-alcohol thing helped...Throw in altitude and exertion hiking in from the gate and I’ll bet they’re sleeping like babies.”

  “Have to give some credit to the chaperones...Kept them on a short leash. Never worked with this Dog character before...Seems to know how to handle a mob of kids.”

  “Gwen’s no slouch either...I’ve seen her take control in chaotic situations before...Got a cool head.”

  They lay side by side watching the campsite from the perch on the hill. Crickets, tree frogs, and cicadas kept up a monotonous whine in a cool night breeze that barely moved the stately pine trees.

  The campground sat at the edge of the grove and the spot the two men quietly occupied was a favorite gathering place for elk during the rutting season. The moldy-sweet smell of humus mixed with pine-scent was all around them.

  A giant owl clutching something in its claws swooped down from one of the trees and landed twenty-yards away. It occupied itself with slowly tearing the small creature apart and devouring it.

  “Oh, man, this tranquility’s putting me to sleep,” Ted murmured.

  “Take a power nap...I’ll stand watch.”

  “Believe I will...Wake me for the next one.”

  Ted snuggled down in his ghillie suit and pulled the hood up. It would keep the mosquitoes away and help deaden the wildlife noise. It seemed like just a few seconds until Bob reached over and prodded his shoulder.

  “Wake up...company.”

  Onkst slipped the nightvision goggles down and waited for his team member to gain full awareness.

  “How long I been out?”

  “Half-hour...Movement in the camp.”

  “One of the kids taking a leak?”

  “Could be...But think I saw a rifle.”

 

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