Odessa Strikes

by Bobby Akart

  He drew his sidearm and began to walk steadily toward the front. Where the locomotive connected to the passenger car, he took a few quick steps and focused on planting his right leg just at the edge of the car. The six-foot jump was not ordinarily a long one, but atop a moving train there was no margin for error.

  He landed on the third locomotive and made his way forward. He slid down the yellow nose and used the steel rungs protruding out of the locomotive to hold on to. Because there was not a continuous exterior ramp and railing from back to front, he climbed to the roof of the next engine and continued forward. Before Gunner climbed down again, he peered over the edge in search of the three men he’d seen inside the cab.

  He eased down onto the platform and wrapped his arm through the steel rungs at the back of the locomotive. He prepared mentally to take on the three men, when he suddenly smelled cigarette smoke. He looked above him and to his right, searching for the source. He crouched down and peeked around the corner.

  On the catwalk running to the cab door, one of the three men, a burly guy with a bushy red beard, stood staring toward the vehicles, waiting for the train to pass an upcoming railroad crossing. The flashing lights and the lowered arm held the cars at bay until the train filled with sarin passed.

  The man’s casual attitude told Gunner two things. One, they were unaware that the train might be destined to derail in less than ten minutes. Second, the man, who looked more like a train engineer than an Odessa operative, might have been hired to hijack the train without knowledge of his employer’s purpose.

  As Gunner studied the man, who lit another cigarette off the one he was completing, a classic chain-smoker habit, he contemplated allowing the man to live. Then the hefty man turned forward, revealing a shoulder holster under his right arm. The weapon sealed his fate.

  The man was left-handed. He held his cigarette in his left hand. He was totally unaware of Gunner creeping up behind him. He never had a split second to pray to his maker as Gunner placed a bullet through the back of his skull, which exited out of the man’s forehead. His body remained upright in suspended animation for a second or two before toppling over the protective rail and onto the gravel railbed with a rolling thud.

  Gunner stayed in his crouch and checked his watch. Five minutes. When neither of the other men emerged from the cab to check on their friend, he moved forward toward the exterior stairs leading to the control-room door.

  A small porthole window enabled him to look inside without being detected. When he only saw one of the men navigating the internet on his cell phone, he became concerned about whether he’d only seen two operatives in the train’s cab instead of three. And if they’d killed the CSX engineer, where was he?

  Gunner readied his silenced weapon and slowly turned the latch to open the cab door. As the door creaked to provide just enough of an opening for Gunner to take aim, the man’s eyes were averted from his cell phone. The last thing he saw was Gunner’s face peering through the crack as a single round struck him in the heart. He died instantly.

  Two shots, two clean kills.

  But was it over?

  The cab was small, barely large enough for a couple of train engineers. Another door led toward the rear of the locomotive. Gunner aimed his weapon to shoot the center of any target that revealed itself. With his left hand, he flung the door open and prepared to fire.

  The third operative revealed himself. He kicked the door outward, and it struck Gunner’s arm, causing him to lose his grip on his pistol. The man lunged onto the floor, landing across Gunner’s legs, in an attempt to reach the weapon.

  Gunner pushed the man off his legs and tried to reach for the gun. The man was quicker, rearing back and landing a kick to Gunner’s rib cage that threatened to knock the wind out of him. The momentum of the kick shoved Gunner into the swivel chair that sat atop a stainless-steel post attached to the locomotive’s floor.

  The attacker reached for the gun just as Gunner pulled his knife out of its sheath. He deftly twirled the seven-inch knife in his fingers until he had a firm grip on the blade. Then Gunner let it fly.

  The perfectly balanced knife struck the man in the right side of his neck. Stunned, he instantly reached up to pull the knife out, causing even more damage to the many blood vessels and arteries that fed the brain.

  Gunner was somewhat mesmerized by the man’s eyes as they suddenly froze open, staring blindly forward, until he toppled over onto the locomotive’s console. He scrambled forward to confirm the man was dead. He quickly retrieved his gun and holstered it before safely tucking away his knife.

  He checked his watch. Two minutes.

  Gunner ripped open his cargo pockets and retrieved his phone. He found the text message.

  JACKAL: Trains don’t stop quickly.

  “No kidding,” mumbled Gunner. He rolled his eyes and sighed in frustration. The average freight train, moving at fifty-five miles an hour, needs a mile or more to stop after the engineer fully applies the emergency brake.

  JACKAL: Look for a red handle on the console. Pull it down to the word emergency.

  Gunner pulled the handle down as instructed. The train screeched as the brakes were applied. The sudden momentum shift threw him forward. He lost his balance and crashed sideways into the control panel, striking his ribs in the same place as the last man had kicked him. He regained his balance and looked through the rectangular window toward the ground, where sparks were shooting out. He returned to the text message stream.

  JACKAL: Check the speed dial. Is it decelerating?

  Gunner responded aloud, “Check.”

  JACKAL: If so, get the hell out. Jump and run!

  “You don’t have to tell me twice.”

  Gunner stepped over the dead men and emerged back into the bright sun. He rushed down the walkway and made his way to the lowest step at the back of the locomotive. The train was slowing, but time had run out as he saw another rail crossing coming up. He knew he was close, so he didn’t hesitate.

  He jumped with the momentum of the train and immediately tucked into a fetal position to protect his neck. He rolled through the gravel and came to a stop on the sandy ground. Then two sounds filled the air. One was familiar. The other sounded like the cry of a banshee.

  Chapter Forty-Five

  Boca Raton, Florida

  Just as the three locomotives cleared the crossing over Yamato Road, a high-pitched squeal filled the air, followed by horns honking as the drivers of the vehicles waiting for the train to pass got a front-row seat to the unfolding wreck. The locomotives began to tilt, one at a time, until they fell over toward the back of a retail building.

  Panicked drivers blared their horns to urge those behind them to move out of the way. When they didn’t respond fast enough, the drivers threw their cars into reverse and tried to shove their vehicles out of the way.

  Gunner watched it all unfold as if it occurred in slow motion. One by one, the locomotives listed to the right before their four hundred thousand pounds of steel crashed to the ground. The passenger car was next; its lightweight structure never had a chance as the chain reaction took place. The twisted steel connecting the four railcars tried to hold them upright, but they were no match for gravity.

  “Gunner! Gunner!” yelled Cam from behind him. Bear had straddled the railroad tracks with the helicopter while Cam rushed out to check on him.

  He stood and brushed off the sand and crushed oyster shells that helped break his fall. He spoke to her without taking his eyes off the train.

  “I’m fine. We need to order an evac.”

  “It’s already done. Come on, let’s get you clear.” Cam grabbed him by the arm and tried to pull him away.

  Then the groaning of steel stopped. The first sarin-filled railcar turned very slowly on its side and landed in the sandy mix of crushed shells and sparse turf similar to what Gunner had rolled through after his jump. The remaining tanker cars remained mostly upright.

  “Unbelievable,” he mumbled as he allo
wed Cam to pull him away. He turned to her. “You guys took off. I was surprised—”

  She interrupted him. “There were two tanker trucks filled with liquid sarin headed toward Lake Okeechobee and another reservoir. They planned on emptying the stuff into the fresh water supply.”

  “You stopped ’em?”

  “Duh! You didn’t think you’d have all the fun, did you?”

  Gunner glanced back to confirm the carnage had come to an end. He laughed. “Bear needed some action. I think he was getting soft.”

  Cam laughed with him as she led him to the helicopter. She pointed at Bear, who was waving happily through the windshield.

  “We’ve got a problem.”

  “Now what?”

  “Naturally, he wants to keep it.”

  Gunner looked at the ground and chuckled.

  After the trio reunited in the chopper and exchanged war stories, they headed back to Patrick AFB. Gunner called into the Den and spoke to Ghost.

  “Hey, Ghost. Are you feeling better now?” Gunner asked.

  “You have no idea,” he replied. “The rest of the Gray Fox team is as well. They’re still high-fiving each other. Of course, my reviews from above are mixed, but I can deal with that.”

  “Whadya mean?” asked Bear.

  “Oh, you know. Great job. Your unit saved the day and all of that. Then they beat me over the head for keeping the operation to ourselves. We were called cowboys. Lone wolves. Not team players. The usual. I’ll take the heat as long as the threat is eliminated.”

  Gunner spoke up in their defense. “DC will never understand how we have to operate. Bureaucracies have leaks. They’re also full of fiefdoms. Nobody wants another unit to step on their turf. We never could’ve pulled this off today if we had to go through a bunch of interagency cooperation.”

  Ghost laughed. “I know that. Listen, I’ll take my licks behind the woodshed when the time comes. I’ll promise to be good and never do it again. But when the situation calls for it, we’ll handle it the exact same way, right?”

  “Ride or die, baby!” bellowed Bear.

  “Yup, we stick together,” added Cam.

  “Agreed. You guys take a day to decompress, but we do need to debrief everyone together. I want to close out this operation with everyone’s thoughts. I plan on calling in Professor Bale and also Dr. Randolph to see if they have anything to add. How’s that sound?”

  “Sure,” replied Gunner.

  “Hey, um, boss,” began Bear. “Since we don’t have a ride back to the house, I was wonderin’ if we could add another—?”

  “No!” Ghost’s response was stern. “I’ve already heard from Colonel Dobbins, who asked about the condition of his chopper. You didn’t scratch it, did you?”

  Gunner and Cam laughed as they fist-bumped one another. Bear scowled, then reluctantly turned the Grey Wolf toward the Atlantic Coast over Melbourne.

  Chapter Forty-Six

  The Den

  Fort Belvoir, Virginia

  Spirits were high at the Den when Gunner, Cam and Bear strode in triumphantly for the first time since the attack on South Florida had been thwarted. Spontaneous applause greeted them. Gunner shunned the accolades, as did Cam. Bear, the man-child that he was, ran through the rows of workstations, giving everyone high fives. After the excitement wore down, Gunner said a few words to the team, with Ghost and Jackal watching from the back of the operations center.

  “I’m gonna keep this short. I want you all to know something. The three of us owe you our lives. What you do in this room keeps us alive when we’re out there. No mission gets accomplished without the efforts of everybody here. Most importantly, at least to us, anyway, we kinda enjoy living, and the three of us have you to thank.”

  “Hear! Hear!” shouted Bear.

  “Yes, thank you!” said Cam as she joined in the high-five celebration.

  “Bonuses for everyone! Raises, too!” Bear kept the jubilant celebration going.

  Gunner glanced over at Ghost, who shook his head and smiled. He was going to allow the team to have their moment, but there were still things to discuss and appointments scheduled.

  “Yes, thank you everyone for a job well done,” Ghost said as he stepped into the middle of the operations center. “As a reminder, Dr. Kala Bale from William & Mary will be joining us in an hour. I’ll need Jackal and her aides to join us in the large conference room. Thank you.”

  Ghost motioned for the Gray Fox team to join him in his office. They dutifully followed, and Jackal hustled in last with laptop in hand. Ghost shut the door to give them privacy and immediately began. His appearance had changed remarkably since the attack had been thwarted.

  “Well done, people. This has been a helluva couple of weeks for all of us.”

  “Sir, you look better,” said Cam.

  “Thank you, Cam. The attack on Levi’s Stadium shocked me to my core. The heinous, callous act of killing that many innocent people infuriated me, but it also caused me to lose faith in humanity.”

  Gunner took a deep breath. “It was like I said that day before we left for Berlin. Hatred doesn’t die with its leader. The mentality of Odessa is no different than the attitude the Nazis had toward the Jews or any other group of people they considered impure. After all these years, their hate guides their actions. So, in my opinion, they have to be dealt with harshly in order to prevent that mindset from rising again.”

  Ghost nodded in agreement before giving his assessment. “Well, you certainly dealt a decisive blow in Argentina. Based upon your debrief reports and Cam’s video footage, the cache of weapons and the remaining canisters of sarin gas were destroyed. Your actions set them back decades in their quest to regain power.”

  Gunner leaned back in his chair and took a deep breath before allowing the air to escape through his puffed cheeks. Cam noticed his somber demeanor.

  “Gunner?” she asked.

  He sat upright in his chair again and responded, “Yeah, sorry. Um, something still bothers me about what happened in the castle. Henry Gruber, if that’s his real name—”

  “It is,” interrupted Jackal. “I’ll expand in a minute.”

  “Okay, Henry Gruber was prepared to die. That was a given. He could’ve easily left with the other two guys on the chopper. I also understand why they rigged the castle with explosives. There was probably more evidence in there, and they didn’t have time to remove it. The same applies to the weapons.”

  “I sense you have a but,” said Ghost.

  “Yes. But why would they destroy those two hundred canisters of sarin? They’d been preparing for many years to discover the wreckage of U-1226. This was the weapon Odessa needed to achieve their goal of recovering what they considered to be rightfully theirs.”

  “Maybe there’s more somewhere?” suggested Bear.

  “Other agencies will be analyzing the volume of sarin contained on the train and the two trucks that left the New Jersey chemical plant,” replied Ghost. “They will try to apply that amount to the size of the canisters used to transport the sarin in the U-boat.”

  Gunner continued relaying his thoughts. “Again, this is what troubles me. Two hundred canisters represent twenty percent of their chemical weapons capabilities. Forget the guns and ammunition, even the military-grade stuff. They have plenty of money to buy more. Manufacturing that much sarin without getting caught would be near impossible.”

  “Are you suggesting they were empty to lead us into a false sense of security?” asked Cam.

  “I think we have to operate under that assumption. Yes.”

  Ghost jutted out his chin and lowered his eyes. The wheels in his mind were spinning. “I’m going to have the EPA and the CDC offer to analyze the rubble. We contacted the Argentine government and suggested the evacuation of Bariloche, which they did. Their own environmental people will analyze the water quality in the lake. However, they’re ill-equipped to send in a team to sift through the remains of the castle. Hell, it’ll take a herculean effort fo
r our people to do it. It’s not the easiest of terrain to work with.”

  Cam laughed. “Yeah, we know. My muscles are still pissed off.”

  “Okay. I’ll make that happen,” said Ghost, who then changed the subject. “Gaining access to the Knight Gruppe servers and the old journals in the CFO’s office was very helpful. Their cyber people moved quickly to lock us out, but Jackal has amassed enough data to paint a pretty big picture of their financial holdings.”

  “Yes, and their value is in the trillions. Cash, precious metals, real estate, equities. You name it. They’re as diverse as their entities are widespread across the globe. Unfortunately, I don’t think we got into what I’ll call the good stuff. Conglomerates of this size didn’t get there without the assistance of dirty politicians and career government employees. Money talks, and I can’t seem to find the smoking gun evidencing payoffs to high-ranking governmental officials. They must’ve had another way of making payments.”

  “Shell corporations?” asked Cam.

  “Probably,” Jackal replied. “We’re running them down. They can also use dark money donors. Dark money donations are used all the time to influence politicians, and the source isn’t disclosed.”

  “What about the principals of these companies? Is there a connection to the Grubers?” asked Cam.

  Ghost glanced at his watch. “Good segue, Cam. Professor Bale should be arriving about now. I want to meet with her in Jackal’s annex.”

  Ghost rose from his chair and escorted his team through the Den and down the hallway toward the large conference room where Jackal had adorned every wall with the research obtained from Professor von Zwick. As the investigation progressed, she’d supplemented his work with her findings in an effort to produce a visual of Odessa’s history and possible current connections.

  Once they were in the hallway, she reached for Gunner’s arm and held him back. She turned to face him so she could look into his eyes. “I have to tell you something.”