“Okay. Here we go,” Kurtzman said, and clicked his hand controller.
The right-hand screen began to list details Delahunt had located for the telephone numbers trawled from Townsend’s files. Where possible the woman had added profiles and images on the owners of the numbers. The list ran to almost thirty contacts.
“Townsend has one hell of an eclectic gathering of phone buddies,” Kurtzman said. “About the only one missing is a plumber. You’ve got full printouts in front of you.”
Brognola watched the list scroll by.
“Politics, high-tech industry and the military,” he commented. “Like you said, Aaron, a hell of a collection.”
“When you consider Townsend’s business, they all fit the profile,” Price said.
“That’s what worries me,” Brognola added.
“We cross-referenced all the numbers,” Kurtzman said. “Checked out who the people Townsend knows know.” He smiled. “Give me one phone number I can get you the world.”
“So modest,” Price said.
“It’s why I’m so well liked.”
“Really? So it’s not the coffee after all?”
Kurtzman swung his chair around and pressed the handset, filling the second screen with more data.
“Townsend’s encryption codes were tricky but not impossible to break. He’s using a fairly standard form of symmetric block cipher. They can be a headache if you’re not into the psychology of encryption mind-sets. Once you know the way these things work it’s no real sweat to develop a program to break the code sequences.”
“Aaron, I’ll take your word for it,” Brognola said. “Cut to the part the simple folk can understand.”
“Okay. My program has wrapped itself around Townsend’s. We pulled out copies of all of his data and broke the encryptions. Townsend has a system for receiving his financial transactions. Electronic laundering. His payments go around the houses, get split up, then pushed back into his loop system and eventually get deposited in offshore accounts or this Swiss bank. Townsend even has a couple of account locations in London. Every account is under a different name and of course they all have account numbers. Now I have those numbers.”
“You can do that?” Price asked.
“Neighborhood hackers can get into your bank account once they infiltrate your computer. This is the same once the system has been invaded. Slightly higher on the scale of one to ten, but basically it’s still hacking into someone’s system.”
Price let out a long breath of air. “That is scary. Is there anything this dubious program can’t do?”
“Damned if I can get it to place a correct order with McDonald’s. I always end up with latte coffee instead of plain and simple black.”
“We’d better create a full dossier on all this,” Brognola said. “Something I can show the Man. He’s already unhappy about the way things have been going. If he sees this list of possible co-conspirators aligned with Townsend, he’s going to run up the walls of the Oval Office.”
“I’ll get it done,” Kurtzman said. “Hal, we still have more to break yet. I’ll keep the team working. Hunt can run his Phoenix monitoring, as well, and I’ll keep tabs on Able and T.J.”
Brognola nodded, then turned to Price. “Good call sending someone to keep an eye on this Tilman character. He needs monitoring in case he meets up with anyone interesting.”
“I figured sending just one was the best option. I didn’t want to leave T.J. without ample cover in case he needs hard backup.”
“Problem with these assignments is they’re never soft for very long.”
“Hal, you’ll regret you said that before long.”
The big Fed nodded. He knew exactly what Price meant, and unfortunately she was most probably correct.
CHAPTER FIVE
U.S. Air Force Base, Bagram, Afghanistan
While Jack Grimaldi unloaded Dragon Slayer from the C-17, Phoenix Force and Mei Anna had a final briefing. When Grimaldi joined them, he was in time to sit and enjoy the meal provided by their Air Force liaison.
“Hey, I see Cowboy got you boys some new guns there,” Grimaldi said, spotting the FN P-90 submachine guns Phoenix Force was carrying.
“We ran some test firings over the last few days,” Rafael Encizo said. “Stands up pretty well. Good rate of fire, easy to carry and it’s got some punch with those 5.7 mm SS-190 rounds.”
“You all like them?” Grimaldi asked, filling a mug with coffee.
“I’ll give you a full field report when we get back,” Gary Manning said.
Grimaldi didn’t fail to notice that Calvin James also had his M-16/M-203 combo slung across his back. There was always a need for the older, dependable weapons.
OUT FROM BAGRAM in the early-morning mist, Grimaldi took Dragon Slayer to operational height, skimming low cloud banks and emerging into a pale sky. The rugged Afghan landscape spread in front of them, low hills, craggy mountain slopes. Grimaldi locked the flight course coordinates into the assault helicopter’s computerized system and set the chopper unerringly along its path.
In the body-form couch next to Grimaldi, David McCarter used the flight time to upgrade his growing knowledge of the machine. He had already logged a good few hours at the controls under Grimaldi’s tutelage. A qualified pilot, McCarter’s enthusiasm for a new challenge had him eager to master Dragon Slayer. Grimaldi had no problems with that. In his view it was a handy thing to have someone on board with the skills to take over if anything happened to put him out of commission.
While McCarter did his thing up front, the rest of the team took the opportunity to relax or make final checks of equipment and weapons. They ran test transmissions on the communication sets they were all wearing. The units were updates of previous models. Extremely lightweight, they operated digitally and allowed clear, powerful transmissions between the team members, and Dragon Slayer, as well.
“Everybody up and running?” Manning asked, and received confirmation from his teammates. “Any problems, let someone know so we don’t lose contact.”
Sometime later McCarter joined them in the crew compartment. He sat next to Mei Anna, stretching out his long legs.
“Once again. The plan is to go in and grab Hung’s team and make a quick extract. Hustle them and the circuit board back to Dragon Slayer so Jack can fly them to Bagram.”
“And then we go walkabout?” James asked.
“We take a gander at this Guang Lor site. If it looks like a go, we take the place down, put a stop to this technology scam.”
“Let’s hope Hung’s inside man can point us to the right place,” Manning said.
“I’m confident he can,” Anna said.
“Well, that’s all right then,” McCarter said dryly.
He leaned back, folded his arms and closed his eyes.
“HEAD’S UP,” Grimaldi called. “I’d just like to point out the local attractions. We’re passing through what is known as the Hindu Kush, with the Wakhjir Pass coming up. Next stop the Afghan-Chinese border.”
He brought Dragon Slayer to a lower elevation, easing the speeding helicopter along the rocky defile of the pass that would bring them to their EVA point.
“Anyone with a return ticket should remain seated,” Grimaldi said. “The rest of you hitchers should disembark when I touch down.”
“Happy bugger, isn’t he?” McCarter said.
Grimaldi eased back on the controls, bringing Dragon Slayer to a gentle landing. He hit the side hatch release button. The hatch opened with a soft hum.
“Y’all come back safe now,” he said as Anna and Phoenix Force exited the chopper.
They moved aside as Grimaldi closed and sealed the hatch, then powered aloft again. He eased around full circle and Dragon Slayer retreated along the pass to a spot where Grimaldi would land and wait for the pickup call.
McCarter checked his handheld GPS unit. He pinpointed their current position and indicated the direction they needed to go.
“Should take us abou
t an hour to reach the crossing point. We need to follow this route to get us around the Chinese border patrols. Military intelligence says we can clear the border here. They’ve marked it as a safe spot. Monitoring has shown the patrols can’t cover every inch of this territory and this section is pretty well obscure.”
“No guarantees I bet?” Encizo said. “There’s always a first time.”
“I know. We have the disadvantage of this Major Kang out of Guang Lor looking for Hung, so there could be greater activity than normal. No one said it would be easy. But we have to get to Hung and pull out his team. They’re depending on us. Okay, it’s no bloody good if we get spotted. So let’s not get spotted.” He glanced at Anna. “Okay?”
She nodded.
McCarter spoke into his com-link.
“You still picking us up, Jack?”
“Yo.”
“‘Yo’? Shades of Fort Apache,” McCarter muttered. “The Duke will be turning in his grave.”
“I can still hear you.”
THEY MOVED OFF, with Encizo taking point.
The air was still chilled from the previous night. Underfoot the ground was hard, strewed with loose rock and gritty shale. McCarter had passed the GPS unit to Encizo so he was able to maintain their line of travel even after having to make detours to avoid pitfalls. As they tramped deeper into the inhospitable terrain, the way became harder. It was easy to see why this section was difficult to patrol. The undulating landscape, scored with gullies and ravines, would have been impossible to patrol in any kind of vehicle. Being on foot was barely an advantage. Phoenix Force found itself having to negotiate some precarious sections, with steep rock walls to scale, then having to descend into deep ravines where crumbling rock and thorny brush made even walking a torture. By the time they bellied down on the last hogback before the crossing into Xinjiang Province, China, they were glad for the pause.
McCarter took a pair of binoculars from his backpack and spent some time scanning the area ahead of them. He panned left to right and back again, focusing on specific points until he was sure the way was clear.
“Looks fine from here,” he said. “Ten minutes from now we might be seeing a different picture. So we go now, keep on the GPS track and keep our eyes wide open.”
“Don’t forget they have a helicopter at Guang Lor,” Anna said. “Kang will be using everything at his disposal to find Hung.”
THEY STEPPED ACROSS the invisible line into China, still unobserved, and as the morning wore on they all knew they were stretching their luck. Too many missions had taught them that the watchword on these occasions was “caution.” Right now they were playing in someone else’s backyard, moving through country that was foreign in every way to them. It wouldn’t do to let their guard down for a second.
They took a break at noon. The sun was blazing, the sky cloudless. The wind that pulled at their clothing was warm. Gritty dust skittered around their feet, making soft hissing sounds. Taking scant shelter beneath a rocky overhang, Manning stood watch while the rest took time for quick drinks of tepid water from their canteens. As soon as Encizo had satisfied his thirst, he took over and sent Manning into the shadow of the overhang.
“Still a way to go,” McCarter said after taking a GPS reading. “We haven’t got as far as I would have liked by this time. If this bloody place was a bit more foot friendly and flat we could make better time. If we can’t do better we’re going to have to spend the night out here.”
“It’s why Hung came to this area,” Anna said. “He knew it would slow down any pursuit.”
“That part applies to the good guys, too,” James said.
They stayed where they were for almost twenty minutes before McCarter ordered them to resume the trek. He returned the GPS unit to Encizo as the Cuban moved ahead to take point.
They had barely moved out when noise intruded, breaking the comparative silence. Everyone turned in the general direction of the alien sound in time to see a band of armed men on tough-looking ponies come into sight from a scattering of huge rocks—heading directly for Phoenix Force.
THE HALF DOZEN RIDERS thundered up to Phoenix Force. As the dust cleared, the only sounds were those of the restless ponies pawing at the ground, snorting in frustration against the hands that held the reins taut. The riders were wiry, seasoned individuals, faces brown and seamed. Bright, dark eyes scanned Phoenix Force, taking in every detail. The riders wore heavy clothing and boots, and thick, round caps. The weapons they carried ranged from old bolt-action rifles to Kalashnikov assault weapons. Two of the riders carried sturdy bows, with quivers full of arrows. Every man had a knife tucked in his thick leather belt.
“Somebody tell me we’ve wandered onto the wrong set here,” James said. “This looks like something out of Genghis Khan the movie.”
Anna stepped forward, placing a hand on the P-90 he held. She pushed the muzzle toward the ground.
“It’s all right,” she said. “These are not Kang’s men. They are Uygur. This is their territory, the place Beijing wants to clear them off. They sent Han Chinese here to settle and dispossess the ethnic Uygur.”
Anna walked to confront the closest riders. She began to speak to them, her dialect slow at first. But then she gained the cadence and her speech grew familiar. One of the riders replied, raising a hand to point at Phoenix Force, leaning forward to study their dress and the weapons they were carrying.
“David, come and stand by me,” Anna said. She caught his sleeve as he neared her. “I have told them you are here from America to challenge Kang.”
“That should make me popular.”
“These people speak an Altaic Turkic dialect. I know a little but I’ll have to improvise,” she said, moving to stand alongside him. “The one I’m talking to is Shin Tek. He is their leader.”
McCarter stepped forward, catching the eye of the wiry Uygur Anna had spoken to. In her slow, halting version of the Uygur language she told the man why McCarter and the others had come to Xinjiang. How they were here to stand up to Kang and his soldiers because they were doing great harm to the people and the land of the Uygur, and stealing important secrets from the American government.
The Uygur listened intently, nodding when he grasped Anna’s words, frowning at the phrases he failed to understand. When she had finished, Shin Tek turned to confer with his men. The moment turned into a busy, animated conversation, with McCarter being pointed at more than once. Then someone in the group laughed. Others followed and a general uproar overtook the whole bunch of mounted Uygur.
“What’s the joke?”
Anna failed to keep her smile hidden. “He asked if I was your woman. When I said yes, he decided I would be too much for you to handle and I needed a Uygur.”
“Keep grinning like that I might start to agree with him,” McCarter said.
“Now you’ve hurt my feelings,” Anna replied. “David, they know the village where our people are hiding. They have seen them. And they know a faster route. We could be there by morning if we accept their offer to guide us.”
“Are any of Hung’s people hurt?”
The answer came back that three of Hung’s team were dead, their bodies in the wreckage of their vehicle.
“Will they guide us there?”
Anna relayed his request and Shin Tek nodded. He pointed a finger at McCarter and spoke.
“What this time?”
“He says they will be honored to take the tall one and his people if he will ride alongside them.”
“Ride?”
“Yes. They will provide ponies for us all. They have spare ones at their camp not far from here.”
“It’s better than hiking all over these damned hills,” Manning said.
McCarter nodded. “I’m not going to argue that point.”
McCarter turned to Shin Tek and nodded. “Tell him we’re in his debt, Anna.”
THE CAMP HELD about two dozen Uygur men. There were a few of the traditional round tents the Uygur preferred and a number of
corralled ponies. By the time Phoenix Force was led into the camp, cook fires were blazing and a two sheep were being spit-roasted over the flames. The air was heavy with the smell of the cooking meat.
“Now I’m definitely hungry,” Manning said.
“Shin Tek says we should eat before we leave. There might not be time for food later.”
McCarter replied through Anna that Shin Tek was a good leader of men.
“He thanks you,” Anna said, “but he already knows that.”
“Why didn’t I guess he’d say so?”
“Maybe because he’s smarter than you,” Encizo said.
A copper pot was lifted from the fire and battered tin mugs were passed around. Scalding tea with added goat’s milk was poured. The drink was traditional Uygur fare, spiced with salt. It was very hot and strong, and the rich goat’s milk gave it a unique flavor. As McCarter accepted his he noticed that many of the Uygurs were watching him intently. They were waiting for him to taste the drink and give his approval.
“Go ahead, jefe. You lead and we follow,” Encizo said softly.
McCarter raised the mug and took a swallow. The tea burned its way down his throat. The rich flavor almost took his breath away, but the Briton held up his mug, smiling broadly, and nodded his approval.
“Now I see why the Uygur are as strong as they are,” he said.
Anna translated. Shin Tek grinned and roared with laughter. He leaned forward and slapped McCarter across the shoulder, then insisted the Briton’s mug be refilled.
“I think he likes you even more now,” Anna said.
“Just let him know it doesn’t mean we’re engaged.”
As darkness slid in around camp and the fires were built higher, the meal was served—bread, a rich mix of rice and vegetables, and greasy roast mutton. It was all washed down with more of the goat’s milk tea.
China Crisis (Stony Man) Page 10