Perilous Cargo

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Perilous Cargo Page 10

by Don Pendleton


  “Well, this seems familiar,” Solomon said.

  “No kidding,” Nischal yelled.

  Bolan chambered a round in his Desert Eagle. Solomon grabbed the 9 mm that was tucked in his belt. Nischal hit the gas, driving off-road to get around the convoy, leaving what was left of the muffler on a rocky outcropping that was a little too tall for the jeep.

  She continued to pick up speed until they crossed a small wooden bridge where the road had been washed out.

  “This will do,” she said, hitting the brakes and spinning the jeep sideways, blocking the far side of the bridge.

  “This is your plan?” Bolan asked.

  “We have to make a stand somewhere,” she said. “This is about as good as it’s going to get, and either way, we could be spotted by a Chinese patrol any minute.”

  The argument was over before it started as the bullets started flying again. Bolan shoved open the door and started shooting. Feng and his men had stopped short of the bridge and were fanning out to surround them. The SUV with the mounted rifle was approaching in the distance. This area was going to get crowded fast and it would be impossible for the three of them alone to come out on top.

  “This isn’t going to work,” Bolan yelled. “Run up the wash and get to cover!”

  “I’m not leaving them with that truck,” Nischal said. “They aren’t getting this nuke, damn it. And we have to help Raju.”

  “If we don’t get out of here, they’ll get the nuke, Raju and you both,” he barked. “Get to cover now!”

  Bolan laid down suppression fire as Solomon grabbed Nischal’s arm and pulled her up the wash. Bolan continued to shoot, switching out weapons until they were far enough away to return the favor by keeping the heads of the bandits down as Bolan took up a new position behind a large boulder.

  * * *

  VITALY WATCHED THE firefight develop, waiting for it to come to a slow halt in front of him before he got out of his truck and gestured for Fedar and the men to follow. Very little could get in his way now. He approached Feng, who stood at the rear of the convoy with some of his men.

  “What’s the situation here?” Vitaly asked, startling him.

  “There you are,” Feng said, apparently playing the innocent. “I wondered when you’d turn up.”

  “I’m certain you did,” he replied. “I believe my instructions, if you were to capture the weapon, were to guard it until I arrived—not take off down the road with it.”

  “If we hadn’t been attacked, I would’ve followed your instructions,” Feng objected. “Three operatives attacked us and I felt it was wiser to keep the weapon away from them and head to Nyalam, where we could easily meet up.”

  “I see,” Vitaly said. “So, you and your men were rerouted by three operatives? You’re obviously a force to be reckoned with, Feng.” He sighed and shook his head. “Where are they now?”

  “They went up the wash and have taken cover in the rocks there. As soon as we’ve pushed them back a little farther, we can move the jeep out of the road and then you’ll be free to take the weapon wherever you like.” He pointed toward the horizon. “The Friendship Highway is only an hour or so away. You could be back in Kathmandu by late tonight, if the weather holds.”

  Vitaly glanced at the sky, which held low clouds, but the weather wasn’t of serious concern to him at the moment. No doubt the operatives were Americans, and it was likely that one of them was the man who’d stolen the weapon to begin with. They’d have to be dealt with, but Vitaly believed in taking care of one problem at a time.

  “Feng,” he said, pitching his voice low. “What did we agree on as a price for your services?”

  He smiled. “We did not agree on a price. You only promised that I would be well rewarded.” He pointed at the mobile platform. “I think you must believe I have done as much or more than anyone else could have in this same situation.”

  “I agree completely, Feng,” Vitaly said. He snap drew his handgun and shot Feng in the forehead.

  The look of surprise on Feng’s face was priceless as his body tumbled over backward. Before his men could react, he shot Feng’s personal guard and Fedar gestured for their men to cover the others.

  “Your orders, sir?” Fedar asked.

  “Kill them all.”

  Some of Feng’s men escaped into the hills, but when most of them had been taken out, Vitaly’s men pushed the jeep off the road, clearing it for their soon-to-be-leaving convoy.

  Vitaly smiled in grim satisfaction. He had the weapon and the American agents were hiding in the hills. He could deal with them at his leisure, as soon as the weapon was properly secured. In fact, he anticipated that they would follow him—were under orders to do so. They would be part of his final cleanup here before he left the region.

  All in all, things were going fairly well.

  * * *

  DAIYU LIN SAT in the operations center at the edge of Sichuan province listening to his latest orders. Ru Quan was specific and deliberate. Daiyu Lin didn’t have to wonder why he was being given the honor of stopping the trespassers; he and his team were the best trained in the world. American or Russian operatives having the audacity to cross the Tibetan border without the permission of the Chinese government was a slight that would not go unpunished.

  “You understand your mission?” Ru Quan asked.

  “Yes. Retrieve the weapon and kill any foreign operatives in the area. Am I leading a team or moving in solo?”

  “This is solo, but you can use local assets to assist you, if the need arises. Even though the Americans and Russians are able to stay off the radar for now, their trespass will be scorned by the world while ours would be condemned. It is our territory, yet we must bend to the world powers.”

  “What kind of weapon do you believe they have?”

  “If our spy satellites are correct, you will be retrieving an outdated Russian nuclear weapon on a mobile launching platform. If we can prove that the Russians were storing such a weapon in Nepal and have since moved it onto Tibetan soil, this will be considered an act of war and dealt with in ways we have anticipated for many long years.”

  “How do the Americans fit into this?” Lin asked.

  “They got the jump on the intelligence. Their President denies having operatives in the area, but we know that to be untrue. They wouldn’t pass up an opportunity to make Russia look bad and force concessions from them at the negotiating table—and they certainly wouldn’t want us to have it.”

  “When do I leave?” Lin asked.

  “Right away. I want you in Kathmandu tonight.”

  “Yes, sir,” he said, and hung up the phone. The Americans and Russians would expect Chinese operatives, but Lin knew he was something special. Whereas they were blundering elephants in a small room, he was a silent shadow. He intended to remain utterly invisible until it was far too late for them to save themselves.

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  Bolan raised the binoculars to his eyes, then contained his surprise as he saw the men getting out of the SUV behind them. The man in charge was known to him—by reputation, though not personally. His name was Nizar Vitaly, and he was, by all accounts, little more than a savage animal dressed in the garb of the Foreign Intelligence Service. “Son of a...” he muttered, passing the binoculars to Nischal.

  She raised them to her own eyes. “Is that...?”

  “Yeah, Vitaly,” Bolan said. “So, they’ve sent their best.”

  “Who’s Vitaly?” Solomon asked, training the glasses on the men below, then gasping as the big Russian pulled his sidearm and killed Feng. “Obviously, a serious man.”

  “Feng was nothing more than a tool Vitaly was using, were I to guess,” Nischal said. “He couldn’t have gotten here with enough of his own men, so he supplemented using Feng.”

  Bolan lo
oked up the wash, then back at the road below. Feng’s men were either dead or running, so it was only a matter of time before Vitaly turned his attention to the three of them. Or he’d simply take the nuke and leave. The odds were lousy and getting worse by the minute.

  “We’re going to have to make a run at them,” Bolan said. “It’s a Hail Mary play, but there’s not much else we can do.”

  “Agreed,” Solomon said. “Leapfrog?”

  Bolan nodded sharply, then charged forward to the nearest cover point and opened fire. Behind him, Solomon advanced ahead of Bolan by a few yards, then used his own weapon to give Nischal a chance to do the same. The technique wasn’t perfect, but the downward slope of the wash, the boulders and scraggly trees helped make it as effective as anything else. They laid down covering fire for each other as they moved closer to the convoy.

  When he was close enough, Bolan fired two quick shots in Vitaly’s direction, then ducked behind a large rock. Two of Vitaly’s men jumped out at Bolan from a small stand of nearby trees. He dropped the first with a clean shot as the other landed on him full force.

  They exchanged punches as they hit the ground, rolling over the jagged rocks. The Russian went for a knife and tried to shove it into Bolan’s kidney from the side. Bolan rolled, twisted and grabbed his assailant’s knife arm but only managed to divert the weapon toward his face. The Russian grunted as he applied more force. He outweighed Bolan by a good fifty pounds, and it took all of the Executioner’s strength to hold him off.

  Bolan let his body go limp suddenly, and in the moment it took for the Russian to react, he stretched his arm out, found a rock and pounded it into the man’s cheek. The first strike dazed him and Bolan levered up on one elbow and hit him again, knocking him down, unconscious or dead.

  He looked up to see Solomon fighting with two men and Nischal trying to intervene with a third. He moved to intercept, but the man on the ground grabbed his leg. Bolan kicked him in the temple without missing a stride and charged toward Solomon and Nischal. He brought up his Desert Eagle and shot one of the men attacking Solomon.

  The distraction was all Nischal needed to draw her knife and, graceful as a ballerina, slit the throat of the man who was trying to grab her. His eyes registered surprise for a moment as he grasped at his neck and tried in vain to stop the flow of blood before sinking to his knees, then toppling over.

  Solomon took care of the third man, driving his palm into his nose, jamming the hard cartilage into the sinus cavity. The man was momentarily stunned by the pain and burst of blood and Solomon grabbed his arm, twisting it so that the Russian’s own knife penetrated his abdomen. An upward thrust at the end of the blow ensured that it cut into his vitals.

  “Look!” Solomon yelled.

  Bolan turned to see the truck pulling away with Jian Chen at the wheel.

  “Damn! Where’d he come from?”

  Vitaly and his men were already in their SUV, speeding after the truck. Automatic weapons’ fire drove Nischal, Bolan and Solomon back into hiding.

  Bolan brought up the binoculars and spotted at least one encouraging sign—the sight of Raju disappearing over a hill, apparently unseen by either Chen or Vitaly’s men. He had no doubt the boy could handle himself on this terrain and suspected he was headed for shelter in a nearby village.

  “We have to regroup,” Bolan said. “Do you know where we could go?”

  “Yeah,” Solomon said. “I’ve got a spot near here. Let’s head out. We’re going to need some more weapons before we can reclaim the truck.”

  * * *

  VITALY HAD HIS men pull over while he consulted a map. He recognized Chen from the initial intelligence on the area. He couldn’t let him get away with the nuke. He’d made a miscalculation in killing Feng so early; the survivors from his band would surely spread the news around the mountains, ensuring little assistance from the locals.

  The sat phone rang. Vitaly picked up, and Li Soong was on the other end.

  “Soong, I don’t have time for your nonsense. If you’ve got something important to say, then say it.”

  “You are not very hospitable, but I am always a procurer of information.”

  “I know where the item is.”

  “Then perhaps you should finish obtaining it and make your way back here. Felicks Kolodoka is on his way and has every expectation that you will be here when he arrives.”

  “I don’t answer to Kolodoka or to you.”

  “As you say...shall I pass on any messages?”

  “Yeah, tell him to stay out of my way.”

  Vitaly hung up and pondered his next move. He dialed Grigori and waited for the curt answer.

  “Is it finished?”

  “No, but I have located it,” Vitaly said. “One of the local warlords has it. We encountered some resistance, but things are well in hand. I would think within the next two days we will have it.”

  “You may not have that long.”

  “Is there a change?”

  “We have intelligence that the Chinese are on the move. If I were you, I would expect a visitor.”

  “Just one?”

  “If the rumor is correct, there is no need to send more than one. Locate this weapon, secure it and get out or don’t bother coming home at all.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Vitaly hung up the phone and contemplated his next move. He ordered his men back in pursuit of the truck and hoped that Jian Chen was as stupid as Feng.

  * * *

  THE TREK THROUGH the mountains was rough, and Bolan, Nischal and Nick were reaching the end of their energy. Solomon continued to lead the way, but as the sun began to sink, the old spy seemed to wane, as well. He paused at a rocky outcropping and abruptly turned around.

  “Where are you going?” Bolan asked.

  “We have to get back down the mountain,” Solomon said.

  “We just climbed this mountain,” Bolan replied. “You said you had a safe place for us to hole up and resupply.”

  Solomon stared blankly at Bolan and then focused on Nischal. He smiled and ran his thumb across her cheek. “You’ve always been so beautiful, dear, but those looks of yours can get you killed in the field. You should find someone and settle down. This is no life for a beautiful and smart young lady.”

  Bolan shot a glance at Nischal, who gave a slight shake of her head and took Nick’s hand. “We’ve had this conversation already, Nick. Remember? It was before my first field assignment. I’ve been in the field for quite a while now. I’m okay.”

  The confusion that clouded Solomon’s eyes vanished for a moment. He considered the mountain, then met Bolan’s eyes.

  “About a mile north of here, there’s an old sanctuary with emergency supplies that should see us through, Colonel.”

  The moment passed and Solomon’s face clouded over again. Nischal held his hand and Bolan led the way. Finally, they made it to the small temple. Carved into the side of the mountain, it would be nearly impossible to see from below. Bolan studied the artistry on the walls and wondered how long it had been there. A large fireplace sat in the center of the room with small shrines lining the walls.

  Bolan got busy starting a fire with the plentiful supplies available and had the room warmed up in no time.

  “He must have set this up as a fallback,” Nischal said, pitching her voice low enough that only Bolan could hear her. On the other side of the room, Solomon gazed into one of the shrines, lost in thought.

  Bolan nodded. “That’s the way it looks to me, too. Why don’t you do an inventory of the supplies and see what we’ve got to work with. I noticed some crates under the altar on the far wall, and if we’re lucky, he’s stored some food here, too. If not, I’ll go hunting.”

  Nischal nodded and Bolan pulled out the sat phone he’d found earlier, then dialed Brognola’s numb
er from memory.

  He answered on the first ring.

  “Hal, I have a sit-rep for you,” Bolan said, skipping the usual hellos. It was impossible to tell how long he’d have a signal or battery power.

  “Striker! You damn well better have a sit-rep for me. We’ve been sitting here on our thumbs wondering if you made it out of that plane alive. The President’s ready to send in a second team and both the Russians and the Chinese have people on the ground out there.”

  “Yeah, Nischal and I both made it out. The pilots weren’t as lucky.”

  “What’s the status of the plane?”

  “It was destroyed on impact, but there was a lot of wreckage. We covered it up pretty well with some interesting help, but a cleaner team needs to get to it as soon as possible and do a better job than we could.”

  “Interesting help, Striker?”

  “Do you remember an operative by the name of Nick Solomon?”

  “Yeah, the guy was a legend. He was still working for MI-6 when I got my start.”

  “The thing is, Hal, everyone thought he was dead. But it turns out he disappeared—on purpose. He wanted to retire peacefully and has made his home in a Tibetan monastery. He’s helping us to recover the weapon.”

  “You can tell me about it in greater detail when you’re back here with that nuke.”

  “I had it, but we were overtaken. There are several forces in play up here, including Nizar Vitaly and at least two regional warlords—though we saw Vitaly take one of them out of the game. At this point, it’s kind of like which bully on the playground is bigger.”

  “Who’s got the weapon right now?” Brognola asked. “Please don’t say Vitaly.”

  “A local warlord, Jian Chen, last I saw it. Vitaly was hot on his heels, but he was outnumbered and it’s all but dark now. What do you have for me?”

  Brognola filled Bolan in on the players he was aware of and gave him more details about Vitaly’s reputation. Bolan didn’t need to be told that Vitaly was a cold killer—he’d seen it himself when he’d gunned down Feng and his men.

 

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