Cody's Army
Page 23
“Good, good, Pete,” the Chief Executive nodded. “You take care of it. I don’t think we really need General Johnson in on these discussions after this. He’s a fine man and does his job well, but in these cases, we will act without his counsel—but keep him informed.”
“Is there anything else, then, sir?”
“We have some problems shaping up that have me worried, Pete, but we’ll discuss that in the future. Talk to my staff and set up a weekly appointment on Monday mornings at ten. You’ll be on call through the Agency at any time, I would think, but let’s get together here at ten each week on Monday and review hotspots.”
“Yes, sir. I’ll take care of the details. Thank you sir, for getting Cody into action. I think we’re going to be calling on him more and more.”
Cody watched the slender girl stow away her third tuna-fish sandwich and three cups of coffee. He chuckled. “Sharon, you were hungry.”
“Pigging out. They never will believe any of this when I get go home to Ft. Lauderdale. Back there they remember me from the high-school annual, where they said I would be the ‘girl most likely to succeed as a secretary.’ For a while I thought they might be right.”
“Bring that coffee, I want you to meet the rest of our crew,” Cody said.
They went out of the big chopper to the steps of the mansion, where the Israeli captain was interviewing the last of the new prisoners.
They watched as the stack of rifles, automatic weapons and new boxes of unpacked rifles, SMGs and cartons of ammo were carried to the helicopters.
Rufe and Hawkeye sat on the steps. Caine had heard about the sandwiches and ran for the spread.
“Team, like you to meet Sharon Adamson, the spark plug who got the whole escape operation started by the hostages. She almost had it wrapped up when we got here. Sharon, this ugly guy with the machine-gun finger is Hawkeye Hawkins, handy man to have around.”
Hawkeye grinned, shook Sharon’s offered hand. “You ever want to change jobs, ma’am, we’ve got one more enlistment open in our army,” the Texan drawled. “Pay is lousy, but the company is good.”
“Thank you, Hawkeye. I’m more of a flight attendant than a full-time commando, but thanks for the offer.”
“Sharon, this is Rufe Murphy, my entire air force. This guy can fly anything with wings and a motor—except a bumblebee—which we know, scientifically, can’t fly anyway.”
Sharon held out her hand and it vanished in Rufe’s huge paw.
“Happy to meet you, Sharon. Hear tell about what you did to them terrorists. Way to go, gal! Just damn glad you on our side!”
“Thank you, Rufe, I appreciate that from one flyer to another. Have you ever flown four engines?”
“Sure have. Pushed around B-52s for a time, and then some passenger jets for an outfit out of Paris. Not the best for me, though, just being a straight bus driver.”
Sharon laughed. “I’m sure all of the passengers and crew will want to see you and say thanks. All unofficial of course, because we understand you four have not really, officially, been here at all. Still it would be great if you could come to the party tonight in Haifa. You know that we never would have broken out of here by ourselves. We had seven rifles and one pistol, and they had everything else and about sixty armed men.
“They probably would have killed us all before they were done. Abdel was crazy as a loon, blood-crazy. Farouk was a little saner, but still a zealot. Tahia evidently lost her lover in Athens, so she didn’t care if she lived or died anymore. The boy, Hallah was just that, a boy.”
The Israeli captain walked up and indicated he was finished. They had all the weapons and ammunition. He had sent about twenty Lebanese survivors running down the trail toward the small town.
He brought out two American flags and had them draped over two plain wooden coffins they had brought from Haifa. Captain Ward’s body had been found in the brush and cleaned up before he was put on the chopper.
Mrs. Vereen’s body was laid carefully in the second temporary coffin and carried on board.
Everyone stepped on the last chopper. Cody and his three men and Sharon stood there a moment more, staring at the huge mansion that had been the site of such trauma in their lives.
Sharon would never forget it. She had grown up here, she had assumed command, become a leader. She would never back down to anyone now.
Cody knew the President would be pleased. He had received a short radio message from Pete Lund expressing the Commander-in-Chief’s views.
Sharon held out her hand. “I really don’t need any help to get in this bird, but it would be nice. Would you mind?” Cody helped her inside, found her a soft place to sit down on big pads used to cushion fragile loads, and then dropped down beside her.
“We won’t be able to come to the party tonight,” Cody said. “We can’t risk the publicity. Some of the passengers are going to talk. Tell them we were Australians; we just got caught up in a situation and had to fight our way out of it. Should fool most of them. Remember, there was no official U.S. participation in this strictly Israeli operation.”
Sharon grinned. “I know that. We’ll miss you at the party. Most of our passengers say they will fly out tomorrow for Tel Aviv, their original destination. I’ll be staying over a few days in Haifa to rest and get my head together. Will you be going right back to the U.S.?”
“Not sure, Sharon. Don’t have any orders yet.”
“Oh. Well, I’ll be staying at the Hilton. If you are going to be around a couple of days, maybe we’ll see each other.”
“It would be nice to think so.”
Another hijacking in Lebanon.
This time Cody’s men were there…
* * *
The sequence was familiar Another jet hijacked to Lebanon. Once again America held hostage by fanatic rebels. And just to prove they meant business the terrorists dragged two innocent passengers out on the tarmac and shot them in cold blood. That’s when John Cody and his men got on the scene. Their mission was to free the hostages. But Cody wasn’t going to stop there. This time he had to make sure it didn’t happen again. And there was only one way to do that. The hard way.
The bloody way.
CODY’S ARMY
Four top-secret warriors. America’s most
powerful anti-terrorist weapon. Ready to
strike anywhere at a momenta’s notice.
With direct orders from the President to
get the job done… no matter how.