The War Planners Series

by Andrew Watts

  “Who the FUCK is in charge here?” The ogre spoke in an American accent. Interesting.

  Henry noticed that his uniform had an American flag patch on the shoulder. The man next to the ogre had a uniform like the ones worn by the two guards. There was more shiny stuff on his chest and shoulders, but it was the same type.

  The guards were standing at attention, looking back and forth between the two arrivals. The skinny guard said, “Uh, sir…the Interpol officer is—”

  “WRONG ANSWER,” bellowed the ogre. “Try the fuck again.”

  “Sir, we were told to—”

  The ogre said, “These men are American citizens. I am Major Josh Brundle. And you will relinquish custody of these men to me immediately. Captain Sirek here is our Australian liaison and can back me up that this has been fully approved by Australian authorities. No paperwork is needed, gentlemen. Open the cell now, and I’ll see that your names aren’t mentioned in this colossal clusterfuck.”

  The guards looked at each other. “Sir, should we call base operations?”

  The Australian captain shook his head. He said, “Won’t be necessary, boys. I’ve just spoken with base ops. We need to get these men moving riiiaght noww. Let’s go.” The accent sounded a bit funny. Exaggerated, even. Like he had just gotten done watching Crocodile Dundee before he came and had been practicing.

  The skinny guard grabbed the key to the cell and opened it up. “Do you need cuffs?”

  The Major said, “Not necessary.”

  Henry and David were marched outside to a beige Humvee. The Major and the Australian captain thanked the guards, and then the Humvee drove away in a cloud of dust. No one said a word.

  The man in the Australian uniform said, “That went well.” He no longer had an Australian accent.

  Major Brundle looked at them through the rearview mirror. “David, your brother says hello.”

  “My brother knows where I am?”

  Brundle laughed. “David, everyone knows where you are.” He looked back at him through the rearview mirror every few seconds. “Do you remember me from the Academy? I was in Chase’s company.”

  The Humvee was moving fast. Ninety miles per hour, easy. The big SUVs drove on the left side of the two-lane road, weaving around the slower civilian traffic.

  “Yes, I remember you. Did…did Chase send you?”

  “Officially? I have no idea what you are talking about. Off the record? You bet your ass. I served with your brother several times over the past few years. And I remember you from school. I don’t care what the news says, I know it’s bogus. Your brother called. He told me what was going on and asked for a favor. Now I might get in a lot of trouble for this, but the way I see it, the rules are a little unclear. You see, if someone tells me that the CIA wants to establish immediate custody of two US citizens, then I am pretty sure that I am supposed to go do it. Now, the fact that the person representing the CIA is a family member to one of the men in custody, and a former friend of mine in college, is irrelevant.”

  David and Henry looked at each other.

  “Shit. We got flashing lights in back of us,” the guy in the Australian uniform said.

  Major Brundle said, “We’re five minutes from base, let’s just keep going. They aren’t going to shoot us. We’ll probably end up having a conversation at the gate. I’ll take care of it.”

  David said, “Where are we going?”

  The big man, looking in the rearview mirror at both David and the flashing lights of the car behind them, said, “Ever ridden on an Osprey?”

  Henry said, “The bird? Well, if I’m being honest there was this one time in Tijuana. I did have a lot to drink and—”

  David said, “It’s a tilt-rotor aircraft. Marine Corps. It replaced the CH-46 for transport and logistics missions.” He looked up at the men, curious. “But it won’t be able to cross the ocean. Where is the Osprey taking us?”

  The guy in the Australian uniform watched the car behind them and said quickly, “It’ll take you to Bathurst Island. About fifty miles north of here. It was where we thought we’d have the least explaining to do as far as flying you out. If we’d done it at the Darwin Airport, we might get stopped by the authorities. There’s already a small passenger jet there waiting for you. No passenger manifests, no flight plans. Small airstrip.”

  Henry said, “So we’re once again getting flown to an island. And the CIA is involved. Look, I hate to be a spoilsport, but we tried this a few weeks ago and we ended up getting dropped off at a secret Chinese military base.”

  The two men in the front seat looked at each other and then back at Henry like he was crazy.

  Henry stared back and blinked.

  The Humvees stopped at a large military base gate. There were sandbags stacked up into bunkers on either side of the road. Machine guns pointed at the cars as they approached. A gate guard in the same uniform as Major Brundle walked toward the convoy of two Humvees and one Australian police car, complete with flashing light. The gate guard looked confused. Brundle got out of the driver’s seat and held up his ID to the gate guard.

  He said to the gate guard, “Sergeant, I’ve got high-priority passengers that need to get over to the pads for immediate transport. I don’t know what this idiot in the police car is doing, but I might need your help. Whatever he tells you, he has absolutely no authority here on our base.”

  Henry watched as the Interpol man who had arrested them the night before got out of the car, holding up a badge. The driver remained in the police car. The Interpol officer’s face was red as he looked at David and Henry in the back of the Humvee.

  “I demand that you turn over my prisoners to me immediately!” He had a French accent.

  Major Brundle looked at the gate guard, who looked uneasy. Then he looked back at the Interpol man. “These are US citizens. We are US Marines. I have been ordered to turn them over to the proper US authorities immediately.”

  “Under whose authority? What is your name?”

  “My name?” the big man said. “You don’t know my name? Do you have any idea who you’re speaking to?”

  The Interpol man said, “No.” He was perplexed at the question.

  “You really don’t know my name? You’re sure?”

  The French-accented man was red-faced. “No, I assure you that I do not!”

  “Good.” Brundle had been covering his name tag, which was stitched on his chest. He kept his hand covering his name and walked back into the Humvee. He told the gate guard, “Don’t let them in, Sergeant.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  The Sergeant took hold of the M-16 that was slung over his shoulder, keeping it pointed at the ground. The Interpol man began swearing in French, but remained where he was.

  They drove around a set of hangars. Henry heard the engines of the large grey aircraft starting up as they approached a wide-open area that was apparently an airport for these strange-looking aircraft. They had wings like a plane, but two small rotors like a helicopter on each side.

  Henry said, “Do these things really fly?”

  The Humvees stopped fifty yards behind the aircraft.

  “Okay, listen up, gents. You’re going to get IDs and a phone on the plane. If they check you when you land in Dubai—”

  “Dubai?”

  “—just say you’re tourists. They’ll have someone pick you up at the airport and Chase will take it from there.”

  David shook hands with the two men in the front seat. “Thanks, guys. Listen…before we go, I need to tell you something. It’s going to sound crazy, but it’s the truth.”

  David gave them the two-minute version of everything that had happened to them on the island.

  When he was finished, Brundle said, “Is that what this is all about? The Chinese?”

  David and Henry both nodded. Then David thanked them again and he and Henry walked up the rear ramp entrance of the Osprey. An enlisted air crewman helped them to put on a vest and helmet, then strapped them into the passe
nger seats. The twin engines grew enormously loud, and then they slowly came to a hover. Henry watched the base behind them grow smaller as they moved forward and began to climb. The blue lights of the Interpol car were still flashing at the entrance.

  A few moments later, they were flying north over the ocean.

  15

  Twelve Hours Later

  Chase and David embraced in the lobby of the Burj Al Arab hotel.

  David’s voice broke as he hugged his brother. “Hey, bro. It’s good to see you.”

  Chase gave him three hard pats on the back while they hugged. “Hey, man.” He held his shoulder and looked him over. “Let’s get you upstairs. Come on.”

  Following Chase, David said, “Chase, this is Henry. Henry, my brother Chase.” Chase shook the short man’s hand as they walked.

  They took the elevator up to the twenty-first floor and walked into a room fit for a king. Deep violet decorative bedcovers and pillows. Gold trim on all of the furniture. The room’s expansive window overlooked the beach to the north, and David could just make out the large towering skyscraper in the distance.

  Three men sat in the room. David thought they looked a lot like the SEALs Chase used to work with. Two had beards. They were all young and fit and looked like they knew how to fight. All three wore button-down shirts and shoulder holsters. Suit jackets were draped behind their chairs. They nodded at Chase as he came in.

  Chase said to the group of men, “How’s our friend?”

  “Typing away.”

  “Any word from the boss?”

  “He’s on his way.”

  “Thanks.”

  Chase didn’t introduce David and Henry. The men didn’t ask any questions. Chase led David and Henry to a sitting area beyond the men.

  David said to his brother, “This is some hotel. Why are we here?”

  Chase said, “We were in need of a secure location for another project. This hotel is on its own island, connected by a single short road to the mainland. It’s the only road in or out. Doesn’t get much more secure than that. The room is courtesy of a friend in UAE intelligence. We figured that it would be the best place to stash you until we decide on our next steps.”

  David looked at his brother. He wasn’t dressed like his usual rugged self. David was used to seeing him in casual clothes or his fatigues that he wore with the SEALs. Today, Chase had on shiny leather wingtips and a tailored suit. “Chase, what exactly do you do here?”

  Chase gave him a sheepish look. “Just have a seat. We’ll get into all of that.” David had the feeling that he was about to learn a lot about his brother.

  A knock at the door. One of the three men opened it and a man entered. He was a black man in his mid- to late fifties, with close-cropped greying hair.

  “Gents, this is Elliot Jackson. He is head of the CIA station here in Dubai, and my boss. David, Elliot’s also a friend of Dad’s. You can trust him.” They made eye contact.

  Surprised by several of the things Chase had just said, David managed to simply say, “Nice to meet you, sir.”

  “Same.”

  Elliot didn’t look very happy, but they shook hands.

  David saw an older Asian man in the adjoining room. A glass window separated them. Three computer monitors stood on a table in front of the man. He stopped typing for a moment and looked up at David. He looked worn down. He turned back to the computer and continued.

  Chase saw David’s expression. “That’s the person who we originally set this room up for. He’s working on another project, and he also needs to keep a low profile.”

  Henry said, “What’s he working on?”

  Chase said, “You don’t need to worry about it.”

  “You guys do a lot of this?”

  Elliot said, “Come on, let’s have a seat over here.”

  They walked over to the kitchen area and took a seat at the table. Elliot took out a small black device that looked like an iPod. He pressed a red button on it and said, “David Manning and Henry Glickstein debrief.”

  Chase said, “Alright, fellas, here’s the deal. I went out on a limb to get you here. You have Elliot and my friend in the UAE intelligence service to thank as well. David, I know that the news reports can’t be accurate. But I don’t have proof. I should let you know that we’re bending the rules a lot by bringing you out here, and we’ve yet to hear back from Langley or Washington through official channels on what your status is. Communications problems. I tried calling Brundle after getting word that you’d left Australia, but the phone lines have been shit for the past day or so. So…we need to know: what the hell happened to you guys?”

  David said, “It all started about three weeks ago now. I was coming home from work at In-Q-Tel when I got rolled up outside my house in Virginia. I was thrown in the back of a car trunk and taken to the airport. They put me in a private jet with three people on board. One was a director at In-Q-Tel. I knew him. But it turns out he was really working for the Chinese, although I didn’t know that at the time. His name was Tom Connolly.”

  “Say that name again?”

  “Tom Connolly.”

  Elliot whispered to Chase, “That’s the body that the Iranians found on their beach near Bandar Abbas. Tom Connolly. He was ex-CIA. Hasn’t been in the Agency in years. But the Iranians and the press wouldn’t believe that at this point, even if we showed them proof.”

  Chase said, “Keep going.”

  David said, “They briefed me on that initial plane ride across the country and explained that China was going to attack the US.”

  Elliot and Chase looked at each other. Elliot said, “Who is ‘they’? Who briefed you?”

  “Tom Connolly, on the plane. He said that he was CIA, but that the Red Cell we were to be a part of was being organized by a group of people from the military and other government agencies. We were supposed to come up with how the Chinese would do it. How they would attack the US…”

  Chase and Elliot were incredulous.

  Elliot said, “Excuse this question, David. But how did they get Americans to do this for China? Why would anyone believe them?”

  “All of us were Americans who had been told by our respective bosses that we were participating in an important national security project for a few weeks. Except for me—I’m still not sure why they had to kidnap me. As far as I know, I’m the only one that didn’t know what I was getting into from the start. Everyone else in the Red Cell was asked to go by their boss before they left. They took us across the country on a small jet, and then we met up with others. Then we got on more jets and they didn’t tell us where we were headed. They had about twenty people in all. Experts in various fields. I was the expert on Project ARES. It was something that I was working on at In-Q-Tel. A new type of cyberweapon that has the ability to take out satellite and data networks.”

  Elliot leaned forward and said in a deep voice, “It can do what now?”

  David sighed. “It can shut down satellite and data networks. I know what you are thinking. And yes, I believe that they have used it. That’s probably what all of this GPS and communications difficulty is about.”

  Elliot placed his hands on his face. Chase looked at him, worried. Elliot moaned, “Continue.”

  David said, “The second flight was about nine hours. Henry and I now know that the island was somewhere in the South China Sea. We aren’t sure where exactly, but we did enough studying of maps on our boat ride last week that we’ve got a few ideas. We believe that the island they took us to is located in between the Spratly Islands and the Philippines.”

  Chase said, “We’ll need to narrow down the location, but we can do that later. So what happened on the island?”

  “It was a small tropical island. A single volcanic-looking mountain, covered in jungle. It was probably about three miles across. It’s a Chinese military base. I’m sure of that now. A woman named Lena Chou…well, that’s what she called herself anyway…was running the show. She had some Silicon Valley consultant
helping her out. An Indian guy named Natesh. Young—probably still in his twenties.”

  Chase said, “Hold on. Say that name again.”

  “Natesh.”

  Chase looked disturbed.

  David said, “What, do you know him?”

  Chase was looking at the ground, his eyes darting back and forth as he thought through something. He leaned over to Elliot and said, “That’s the name of the guy on Abu Musa that showed Ahmad Gorji the list. They weren’t talking about a list of people that would supply information to Abu Musa. Natesh showed Gorji the list of names on the Red Cell several months ago.”

  Elliot didn’t react. He turned to David and said, “Please, continue.”

  “We spent a week or so doing brainstorming sessions, coming up with ways to defeat the US military and national infrastructure—utilities, communications, everything. A lot of us had top-secret clearances. People talked about specific frequency ranges and tactics. I mean…Chase, it was bad…I feel like shit about it all. I feel like such an idiot. But I’m telling you, the setup was very elaborate. We really, truly didn’t know. I swear to God. And there was, I don’t know…kind of a weird groupthink thing going on at first. Everyone fed off each other. We thought we were going to help our country.” David hung his head. “That feeling didn’t last.”

  Henry said, “David was the one who broke the spell for the rest of us. He saw something in the first couple days. One of the guys got sent off the island in the middle of the night. They carried him away and threw him in a helicopter. He was unconscious. This guy—Bill—went to see this Lena chick about getting off the island to go take care of his wife, who had cancer. And that was what we thought happened. But David saw him that night being carried away, unconscious. None of us knew that part. So David got suspicious and a few days later, he swam around the island. He saw the guy that was supposed to have been flown home to his wife on the other side of the island. But he was a prisoner of the Chinese soldiers.”