Retribution (9781429922593)

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Retribution (9781429922593) Page 29

by Hagberg, David


  “A group of German contractors hired by the Pakistani ISI, which wants payback for Neptune Spear.”

  Rautanen broke out in a big grin. “No shit,” he said. “Are they after all of us?”

  “With you it’d be three down, twenty-one to go.”

  “Plus one.”

  McGarvey shook his head. “Who?”

  “The dog. Don’t forget the dog. He was right there with us, man.”

  McGarvey let it ride for a beat. “These guys are good. German KSK. They don’t have a hard-on for you guys, but by the same token they don’t give a shit. It’s just another day at the office.”

  “Good. Makes it professional. Nice and clean, nothing ambiguous. No second thoughts, no touchy-feelies, no hesitations. You see the shot, you take the shot.”

  “Could get hairy,” Pete said, trying to bring him down just a little.

  But Rautanen’s grin broadened. “Good. So what’s the op plan?”

  “Tell me what you know about the apartments up the street. The layout, the people,” McGarvey said.

  “No place you want to be,” Rautanen said. “Good people, most of them, but the kids are seriously pissed off, and I don’t blame them. It’s why I act crazy all the time, keep this place looking like a shit hole, so they’ll stay away.”

  “Has it worked?” Pete asked.

  Rautanen grinned. “Here I am.”

  SIXTY-SEVEN

  When they checked in at what had been a Motel 6 on North Military Highway in Virginia Beach, the old guy who was the desk clerk gave Pam and Ayesha a knowing smirk. The place was run-down, in a seedy neighborhood, and attracted all kinds of clientele.

  They drove back and parked in front of the end room. Ayesha held her silence until they got out of the car.

  “What kind of horrible place is this? We could be in Rawalpindi.”

  “We just were, remember?” Pam said. She had no sympathy for the woman, none whatsoever, but she had been telling the truth when she promised to make sure Ayesha got back to Pakistan in one piece. It was for self-defense if nothing else.

  They carried the heavy bags inside and flopped them down on the twin beds. The room was reasonably clean, though the sink ran slow when Ayesha splashed some water on her face. The mirror was cracked and one of the fluorescent tubes was burned out.

  “My four operators are in the next two rooms,” Pam said. “I’m going to get them together for their briefing. I suggest that you remain here until I come back for the equipment.”

  “I’m not staying here alone.”

  “Listen to me, bitch. I’m trying to carry out this op while at the same time keep you alive. These guys won’t want to deal with you. For all they know you’re a spy for the ISI who’ll turn them in when this is all over. It’d be easier for them to kill you now so that they won’t have to look over their shoulders for the rest of their lives.”

  “Like you.”

  “That’s right. The ISI knows who I am, which is why I want to make sure that you get home safely.”

  “Interesting,” Ayesha said. “They’ll want me dead to save their own necks, and you want me alive for the same reason.”

  “So stay here.”

  “No,” Ayesha said. She hefted one of the bags. “Let’s see how my money is being spent.”

  Pam considered the woman for a long beat. Without her cooperation the money would dry up. Reestablishing a tie with the ISI would take time, even if it could be done now, considering the tense situation with India. And working with the devil you knew was almost always better than working with one you didn’t.

  “Put the bag back on the bed and stay here, I’ll be right back.”

  “I said I won’t be left out of this.”

  “I’ll bring my people here. They’ll have to find out about you sooner or later—might as well get it done now.”

  “Don’t ignore me. I have just as much reason for retribution as you do. Maybe more.”

  Pam went to the next room and knocked discreetly on the door. “It’s me,” she said.

  The door opened on its safety chain. Volker was there with a shotgun. “Who is the woman you brought here?” he demanded.

  They had maintained a lookout. It was something she hadn’t thought about. To this point no one but she and the four operators—Volker and Bruns in this room and Woedding and Heiser across the hall—knew about this place. “Our paymaster from the ISI.”

  “Get rid of her and then we’ll talk.”

  “Where’d you get the shotgun?”

  “A little bar in North Carolina. No witnesses.”

  “The gun will be reported stolen.”

  “No,” Volker said. “Get rid of the broad.”

  “If you want in on this op, it’s on for tonight,” Pam said. “I’ll see your ass next door in five.”

  She went across the narrow corridor and knocked on 122. “It’s me.”

  Heiser opened the door a crack. “Is it time?”

  “I’m in one-twenty-five. Briefing in five minutes.”

  Heiser closed the door.

  * * *

  Volker left his shotgun behind, but he and the other three men kept on their feet, their body language tense. Fight or flight, they left their options open.

  “The woman’s name is of no importance; she is our paymaster and nothing more,” Pam said. She too was on her feet. The weapons were laid out on the bed between them.

  Ayesha stood at the open bathroom door. She had the good sense to say nothing.

  “She will not be on either assault team tonight, and before first light all of us will be long gone from here, in our separate directions, considerably richer than we are at this moment.”

  “What guarantee do we have that when this is over she won’t out us?”

  “None, other than your own tradecraft and the money, which will allow you to go deep.”

  “And if we don’t wish to stay ‘deep’, as you put it, forever?” Heiser asked.

  At twenty-four he was just getting started. The thought of such an early retirement didn’t sit well with him, hadn’t from the beginning. It was something Pam had understood the first time she met him.

  “That would be entirely up to you,” she said. “But once the dust settles, which it surely will—even 9/11 has faded in the minds of most Americans and Neptune Spear will fade in the minds of the Pakistani government—there will be other operations.”

  “With you?”

  “We’ll see,” Pam said.

  After tonight she would be faced with one last operation—hers personally, with Gloria’s help—and she would go permanently to ground somewhere. Possibly in Germany, after some plastic surgery and some bulletproof identity documents, which a lot of money could buy. She would go back to being a small-town girl. Maybe buy a Gasthaus somewhere outside of Munich.

  Or maybe she would set up in Frankfurt or Luxembourg or even Zurich as an investment counselor for a specialized clientele. A money laundress and financial expediter for guys like Heiser. It would be the dolce vita: nice clothes, nice cars, nice apartments, fine restaurants, vacations to the Caribbean or South Seas. A boy toy who wouldn’t beat on her.

  Anything was possible with money and retribution under her belt.

  Volker looked at Ayesha. “If this goes bad and the ISI goons start coming for me, I’ll get past them, and you will be my first kill.”

  Ayesha shrugged. “Do you want the money or not?”

  Volker nodded at length.

  “Then do as you’re told and keep your fucking mouth shut.”

  The tension level in the small room rose palpably.

  “Kirk McGarvey will be our primary target for tonight. The ST Six operators will be secondary.”

  “He’s here?” Bruns asked.

  “Yes. At the home of one of the Neptune Spear operators, just a few miles from here. He knows we’re coming, and he’s offered the operator as bait.”

  “Shouldn’t be too tough for the four of us to take them down
,” Bruns said.

  “Tell that to Dieter and Steffen,” Pam said. “But they went in blind, something we won’t do.”

  “We’re listening,” Volker said.

  SIXTY-EIGHT

  Sitting at the kitchen table in Rautanen’s house, McGarvey methodically cleaned and oiled his Walther PPK. He unloaded and reloaded all three six-shot magazines of 9x18mm shells, making sure that the spring in each was not jammed. Finally he reloaded the pistol, jacking a round into the firing chamber, then removed the magazine to load another round, making his pistol a six-plus-one shot.

  Pete sitting across from him watched in silence as he pocketed two of the magazines, holstered the pistol at the small of his back, and set the silencer tube aside.

  “What can I say to talk you out of this,” she asked at length.

  “We’ve come this far, and I sure as hell won’t turn around and walk away.”

  “I understand, and I’m not going anywhere. I’m just saying that we should call for backup.”

  “They’d spot it and sit on their heels. Time’s on their side.”

  Rautanen had been watching the street from the living room window. It was finally dark. He came back to the kitchen and opened a Coke. “Nothing yet.”

  “You up for this?” McGarvey asked.

  Rautanen laughed but nodded. “You bet your ass, but I think that you’re crazier than I am.”

  “Tell him,” Pete said.

  “Do you have anything other than the Ithaca and the SIG?” McGarvey asked.

  “A KA-BAR, if it comes to that.”

  “How many rounds for the guns?”

  “Two boxes of double-ought shot, two of slugs for the Franchi, and a couple of boxes of hollow points for the pistol.”

  Schlueter would be sending at least three or four shooters tonight, and after what had gone down in Rawalpindi he was sure that her primary target had changed from the ST Six guys to him. Once he had been eliminated they would go on with the op.

  “How about you?” he asked Pete.

  She nodded. “In for a penny, in for a pound, my dad always used to say.”

  “No silencers,” McGarvey said. “I want this noisy.”

  “But we don’t know when,” Rautanen said. “Could be an all-nighter, and maybe not go down until tomorrow night or the next.”

  “Unless we set the time,” McGarvey said. He phoned Otto, and put it on speaker.

  “Is it a go for tonight?” Otto asked.

  “I want you to start calling all the Neptune Spear guys right now, even the ones on active duty if you can get through to them.”

  “I can,” Otto said.

  “Tell them that we think that one of them will come under attack sometime tonight, so sit tight and keep a sharp watch.”

  “What do I tell them about you and Pete?”

  “The truth. We think that Ratman could be the primary target and we’re setting a trap. But make them understand that Schlueter’s KSK operators might try to draw me out by attacking one of the others. They want to get me into the open and take me down.”

  “All you have is a pistol,” Otto said. It was clear he didn’t like the idea.

  “Do it.”

  “You’ll be outnumbered, even with Pete and Rautanen.”

  “Do it,” McGarvey said, and he rang off.

  “That didn’t sound encouraging,” Pete said.

  McGarvey called Cole’s home phone. A woman answered after three rings, and he asked to speak to the captain. “May I say who is calling?”

  “Kirk McGarvey.”

  “Yes, just a moment.”

  McGarvey got the oddest sensation in just those few words: the woman not only knew who he was but had been expecting his call. Which was nonsense.

  Cole was on the line almost immediately. “Who the fuck do you think you are calling me here?”

  “I’m at Ratman’s house. I think someone will try to take him down tonight and I’m going to stop it.”

  Cole hesitated for several beats. “If you really thought something like that was going to happen, you’d have the bureau surrounding the place. The state, county, and local cops would be in on it. SWAT teams. The whole nine yards.”

  “The navy officially doesn’t believe the story, so what makes you think the bureau or anyone else would?”

  “I passed it along to the ONI.”

  “Yeah, I met them.”

  “You didn’t let them take Rautanen where he’d be safe. So what do you want from me?”

  “To let you know what’s about to happen.”

  “You’re just as bad as Rautanen. It’s a wonder the both of you aren’t out on the streets.”

  “Most of those guys are there because in the end it’s a lot easier dealing with the aftermath of three hundred plus days out of every year on deployment. Blown-out knees, bad hips, ankles shot, shoulders beat up, not to mention their mental state,” McGarvey said bitterly. He hung up before Cole could respond.

  “I told you he was a by-the-book prick,” Rautanen said.

  “Do you and any of the other guys ever get together for a beer or something?” McGarvey asked.

  “I’ve never gotten around to it. And I doubt if most of the others do. Doesn’t seem to be any point. By the time the guys get around to quitting, their wives have about had their fill. They pretty much keep them on a short leash.” He shrugged. “Or bug out.”

  “No contact with any of them? Not even the occasional phone call?”

  Rautanen was about to say no, but he changed his mind. “Tony Tabeek. He and I used to hang around. He called last year after I became a bachelor and asked how I was holding up. I thought it was nice of him.”

  “Is he here in town?”

  “Over in Virginia Beach.”

  “Call him,” McGarvey said. “Tell him you got a call from a guy named Otto who warned you that the rest of the Neptune Spear crew might come under attack sometime tonight. You just wanted to give him the heads-up. Do you think he’ll listen?”

  “We were on Chalk One together. He’ll listen.”

  Pete handed him Mac’s cell phone. “They won’t be able to trace your call.”

  “I want him to use his home phone.”

  Rautanen grinned. “They’ve got my phone bugged?”

  “I’m counting on it,” McGarvey said. “But wait ten minutes until we’re sure that Otto has had a chance to get to him.”

  “Anything else?”

  “Tell him that I’m setting a trap.”

  Rautanen hesitated a beat. “Do you think they’ll buy it?”

  “They will when you tell Tabeek where I’ll be waiting.”

  “Standby one,” Rautanen said. He got up and left the kitchen.

  “I’m frightened,” Pete said, her voice low.

  “You’ll be okay here. It’s me they want.”

  “Not for me. I’m afraid for you.”

  McGarvey reached over and touched her cheek, and she flinched. “We’re going to finish it tonight. No more looking over our shoulders to see who’s coming up behind us. No more worrying about these guys.”

  Rautanen came back and laid a pair of black night-fighting camos and a black watch cap on the table. “You’ll need these.”

  SIXTY-NINE

  Pam and Ayesha had dinner at a KFC a few blocks from the motel, while Volker and the others spread out to two different places to get something to eat. They were all dressed in ordinary street clothes—jeans and pullovers or baggy shirts.

  Their weapons were still back at the motel where they would meet at nine sharp for their final orders. They wanted to minimize the time on the streets when they were armed in case of a routine traffic stop.

  The cell phone in Pam’s hip holster buzzed. It was the special program in which the contact information on the remaining twenty-two Neptune Spear SEALs was stored. Every call to their numbers showed up on her phone. Earlier she had intercepted the phone calls from Otto Rencke. This time the call to Tony Tabeek came from Rau
tanen’s house phone.

  “Yo, Tank, this is the Ratman.”

  “You got the same call from the CIA?”

  “Yeah. Why I called. We’re going to try to head off the shit over at my place. Bait and switch.”

  “I’m listening.”

  “You know the apartments up the block from here?”

  “Yeah?”

  “Got a guy named McGarvey, ex-CIA. He figures that I’m number one on their hit list. He’s going to set up at the apartments, and when they come in he’ll be at their six.”

  “If that complex is what I think it is, your guy’s got balls.” Tabeek said.

  “It is and he does,” Rautanen said.

  “What do you want from me?”

  “Nada. Just giving you the heads-up, because he thinks you might be next after me.”

  “What about the captain?”

  “Cole? He’s a pussy. We’re on our own, man. Keep a sharp eye.”

  “You too,” Tabeek said.

  Pam hung up.

  Ayesha was staring at her. “What is it?”

  “Tonight’s operation just got easier,” Pam said.

  She speed-dialed the other four, Volker first.

  “Problems?” he asked.

  “Just the opposite. Get back to base. We’re a go.”

  She gave the same message to the others, and she and Ayesha got in the Fusion and headed back to the motel. It was a weeknight, but traffic was still heavy. The bars and other dives that always surround a military base like a cloud of meteors were already busy with guys who were off duty.

  “Tell me what’s going on,” Ayesha said. She seemed excited, a glow in her eyes.

  “McGarvey’s made a mistake,” Pam said. “He thinks he’s set a trap for us, but instead he’s the one who’s backed into a corner.” She explained what she’d overheard and what her plan was.

  “Is he that foolish?” Ayesha asked.

  “He wouldn’t be if he knew that I was monitoring the phone calls to all the ST Six guys.”

  “He’s CIA—he must have a lot of resources at his disposal. Enough to possibly predict that you have the ability to monitor such phone messages. Maybe he’s set a trap for you.”

  “You don’t know what you’re talking about,” Pam said angrily. But something nagged.

 

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