“Understood. McCarter, out.”
A long silence fell over the room as each got lost in thought for a time. Such a weapon could have devastating consequences if used on any sort of a mass scale.
Brognola finally broke the silence. “I don’t know about you two, but I don’t like the feel of this at all. We’ve had what I would deem a significant breach in our own internal security.”
“What are you talking about?” Kurtzman said. “We’re locked down tighter than a drum.”
“Not electronic,” Brognola said. “Not even as it relates to the Farm. I’m talking the security of our field teams. So far, Madari’s people have been able to keep one step ahead of Able Team by successfully planting electronic surveillance on Lyons. High-tech surveillance, no less.”
“Oh, yes, that reminds me…” Price said, reaching for a sheet of paper on the table and sliding it to Brognola. “This just came back. It’s an analysis on that bug. Turns out the internal circuitry is untraceable, bought on the black market. But the design…there’s no mistaking—it was created by DCDI.”
“Steinham?” Brognola’s eyebrows shot together like arrows meeting at a bull’s-eye. “Are you saying this equipment was planted on them by Steinham’s people?”
Price shrugged. “Not necessarily. I mean, I suppose it’s possible but… Aaron?”
“We have another theory,” Kurtzman said, taking up the cue. “We think that some part of Madari’s financing may have come from David Steinham. Certainly there’s no mistaking this circuitry blueprint. It’s right from Steinham’s personal records, the ones he holds in an electronic vault on site and thinks nobody can get access to.”
Price smiled with admiration. “Aaron had that puppy cracked in fifteen minutes.”
“Aw, it weren’t hardly nothing,” Kurtzman replied with mock humility.
“So maybe Steinham was financing Madari’s research.”
“It would explain a lot,” Price replied. “Not only would it explain why our friend Stanish compromised Phoenix Force in her role as their contact, but it would also explain her relationship to Madari. She may well have gotten close to him originally while she was on Steinham’s payroll.”
“Okay,” Brognola observed. “So Madari wants revenge against the Libyan government and joins the Arab Spring movement. Steinham sees an opportunity to play on that and so he makes a deal to help finance Madari.”
“Which explains where Madari got a lot of his money,” Kurtzman added. “He wasn’t personally wealthy when he left Libya, and he didn’t have a lot of wealthy friends.”
“But,” Price noted, “he did have some people who were willing to invest in his plan for a high-tech platform like EMPs with both large and small-arms applications. Anybody, foreign or domestic, bringing that kind of tech to the table would almost certainly become the most popular defense contractor in the world.”
Brognola nodded. “Countries would pay billions for it, including the United States. Steinham was looking to stay on top whatever the costs. So it’s a good theory. But it still doesn’t explain why he sent Cyrus into that NSA storage facility. Surely he had to know Madari’s people were on the place.”
“We don’t think so,” Price said. “In fact, we think that’s when Steinham first realized Madari had betrayed him.”
“So he used Cyclops as the proverbial sacrificial lamb, acting as though he didn’t know Madari but that he had intelligence the guy was behind Dratshev’s kidnapping,” Brognola said.
“Right!” Price said. “Which, in fact, it was Steinham who had engineered most of this right from the start. Otherwise, how could he have known about Dratshev’s kidnapping before anybody else? It wasn’t just because Muriel Stanish had her ear to the ground. It was because he was the one who started it all.”
Brognola shook his head. “What greed will drive men to do.”
“It could be that Steinham’s motives were genuine,” Kurtzman said. “He’s held in very high regard among his colleagues and the politicos in Washington.”
“True,” Price said. “They’re even honoring him this Friday at the annual conference for Private Contributors to American Military Defense.”
“If Madari did in fact betray Steinham, and now he’s in the wind, wouldn’t you think Steinham would do whatever he could to track down Madari?” Brognola asked. “Or at least try to steal the technology or even get his hands on Dratshev.”
“It’s possible,” Price said.
“Why do you ask, Hal?” Kurtzman said.
“Just something that was bothering me about what Cyrus told Able Team,” Brognola said. “He said their other clients were interested in the EMPs. But he also told them they had intelligence Madari might try to hit an American target abroad.”
“What’re you getting at, Hal?” Price asked.
“I think Cyrus was being played by Steinham just like he was playing us,” Brognola said. “I think Madari has every intention of using those weapons on American soil. And I think he’s going to use them against Steinham and the Cyclops mercenaries.”
“Well, there is the major meeting of the DoD contractors this Friday night,” Kurtzman reminded them. “That would be a pretty good opportunity to take out Steinham and Cyrus’s people simultaneously.”
“Not to mention the crippling blow it would mean against America,” Price said. “We’d lose some of the finest minds on the planet.”
“Put Able Team on full alert,” Brognola ordered. “We’re going to crash the party.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
Mediterranean Sea
The USS Resolute knifed through the whitecaps of the Mediterranean, its sleek lines a testament to the power of the United States Navy’s most modern and powerful Zumwalt-class destroyers. The lead ship in its class, and only one of a handful that had been outfitted with the latest in equipment and modern-warfare capabilities, the Resolute boasted the most advanced technology and survivability systems.
In addition to a crew complement requiring fewer than 150 sailors and a composite superstructure to increase speed and maneuverability, the Resolute was a formidable and awesome sight on the high seas. Its armament and equipment included Multi-Function Radar and an Advanced Gun System with a 155 mm gun, which, when complemented by its LRLAP—long range land attack projectile—had a range up to 80 nautical miles. The hangars were equipped with a PVLS—peripheral vertical launch system—for a variety of aircraft and air-combat systems such as drones and unmanned combat air vehicles. Finally, at just six hundred feet in length, she could do better than thirty knots and displace just under 15 long tons.
At the helm was one of the most respected destroyer captains in the modern Navy. Very few people knew about the personal relationship between Captain Samuel Garth and the President of the United States. They had been childhood friends, something neither advertised.
“I wish this conversation didn’t have to take place under such grave circumstances, Sam. But for what it’s worth, I’m glad it turned out to be you in command and not somebody who was unfamiliar to me.”
“Same here, Mr. President.”
“I’ll be as brief as possible and then I’ll let you get to what needs to be done. The short story is that the team that you’re about to rendezvous with are some of the finest combatants in our arsenal. They have literally saved this country from destruction on more occasions than I would ever care to count. And they’ve done this for a number of my predecessors, as well.
“Now, while I’m not at liberty to divulge the nature of their operations to you, I can say that I both consider this a personal favor to the President of the United States by asking your full cooperation with them. They aren’t there to step on your toes or to run your crew or ship—the Resolute is yours now and it will be after they arrive. But you will take any direction from them relative to
this mission.”
“I understand, sir. May I ask you to hold one moment?”
“Of course.”
Garth turned to the crew and said, “Clear the bridge.”
Without hesitation, the men did as ordered under the watchful eye of the XO, who was about to be the last one out when Garth thought better of it and asked him to stay. Garth returned to the conversation. “Permission to speak candidly?”
“Granted.”
“Why are they coming here to perform this operation? If this ship poses such a danger, why not just let me neutralize her on site? I could drop an ASROC or SM-2MR right straight down on that puppy from so far away we wouldn’t even see the blast.”
“We’re hoping it won’t come to that. In fact, this team’s mission is to take the crew and cargo in one piece. There’s significant intelligence and equipment aboard this vessel that is of vital interest to the United States military, not to mention its criticality toward maintaining the defensive efficacy and superiority of this nation. Bottom line, Sam, I wouldn’t be asking this if it weren’t the utmost importance to national security.”
“Aye, sir.”
“That said, if it comes down to no other choice—particularly if you are told by the leader of the SOG team that it must be done—I authorize you to take whatever action may be necessary to protect your crew, your ship and this nation. In other words, if you’re left with no options other than to destroy that vessel than I have no qualms telling you to blow it out of the goddamn water. Is that understood?”
“Aye, Mr. President. My ship is at your command, sir.”
“No, Sam. Your ship is at your command. I’m merely asking to borrow her for a couple of hours, tops.”
“You got it, Mr. President.”
Garth hung up the phone and turned to his XO, Commander Derek Jankovich. “Number One, return bridge crew to duties and then prepare the top deck to receive the special operations team. We are to cooperate with them fully.”
“Aye, sir. What’s our mission?”
“I’ll wait for the SOG team to arrive and they can brief both of us at the same time. Head guy is named McMasters.”
“This a SEAL team, sir?”
“For now, it’s a matter of national security and that’s all I’m permitted to divulge. When I know more, you’ll know more.”
Jankovich aye-ayed a last time with a snappy salute, whirled on his heel and left to perform his duties.
Garth thought about how his day had started off relatively normal that morning. He’d breakfasted with the officers—a standard tradition on Wednesday mornings he’d started after his first ship command and one he’d continued since then—before heading to his cabin to begin writing reports. Again, as was his routine, he’d spent the late part of the morning walking different areas of the ship on an ad hoc inspection, greeting enlisted and officers alike and even stopping here and there to assess ship morale. He’d then headed to the bridge, where he would spend the rest of the day until evening mess. That’s when he’d gotten the rather unexpected call from the President.
Well, whatever was going on it sounded important enough he’d need to be on his toes. This was a chance for the brand-new USS Resolute and her crew to shine as never before.
The approach of a chopper as reported by a radar officer commanded his attention and pulled him from his reverie.
“Are they transmitting the correct confirmation code, ensign?” Garth asked as he stepped up alongside the radar man.
“Aye, sir. Looks like they have the proper phrase of the day and encryption code.”
“Understood, thank you. Operations?”
“Aye, sir,” the Ops officer replied, stepping forward smartly.
“Inform the XO the team we’re expecting has arrived and to prepare for deck-landing. Also advise him it’s my understanding this pilot is highly experienced with ship landings so we shouldn’t have to do any hand-holding for this one.”
“Aye, sir.”
As the Ops officer, a highly experienced lieutenant commander by the name of Tim Lee, turned to execute his orders, Garth reached for his own neck and massaged the new knot that seemed to have formed there. Yeah, the massive knot he detected was all the proof he needed that the morning that had started so simply was about to end as one of hell of day. And Garth, for one, wasn’t looking forward to it in the least.
* * *
“CAPTAIN GARTH?” McCarter said, extending a hand for a firm shake. “I’m McMasters.”
“No rank given,” the XO observed. “You’re not military?”
McCarter smiled. “Not exactly.”
Hawkins added, “We’re more special operations out of that chapter missing from the playbook.”
“I see,” Jankovich replied with a nod.
“I think you can appreciate when I tell you, gentlemen,” Garth interjected, “that I wasn’t given a whole lot of information regarding this mission. Frankly, I’m not happy about that but understand that secrecy is important. All the same, I was wondering if you might do me the courtesy of at least some sort of briefing relative to what we’re going up against. Especially since I’ve been asked to lend you whatever manpower and equipment you need.”
“No manpower, sir,” Manning said.
McCarter continued. “But we are going to need one of your Seahawks—”
“I thought you’d brought your own chopper,” Jankovich cut in.
“We did, but it’s a civilian variant. That won’t cut it for an air assault operation, and especially not at night.”
“Exactly what is your plan, McMasters?” Garth asked. He’d been told to cooperate and he would, but he was also responsible for every man and every piece of military hardware aboard his vessel. He wouldn’t just blindly hand over a chopper worth millions of dollars to a team of men he didn’t know.
“The details of our exact operation are classified, Captain,” McCarter said.
“Maybe so, mister,” Garth snapped. “But the fact is this is still my ship and the President told me personally that I was entitled to know everything I was getting into.”
“The President called you personally?” James asked, doing nothing to hide his expression.
“That’s right.” Garth smiled. “Personally. I talked to him for several minutes. Now I’m more than happy to cooperate with you guys but you will tell me about your operation before I just hand over one of my aircraft, especially if it won’t be my men at the stick.”
Encizo started to look as though he was about to protest but McCarter raised a hand to cut it short. “Men, start checking our equipment. Maybe the XO here can show you some place where you can do your checks unimpeded.”
“Be glad to,” Jankovich said, gesturing for them to follow.
When they were gone, McCarter nodded at Garth and said, “Sir, if you don’t mind, I’d like to see you in private. This isn’t a matter for any other ears but yours and I didn’t wish to get into any territorial pissing contest with our side present.”
Garth nodded in return and then turned and led him into the ready room. When the door was closed, Garth perched his butt on the edge of desk and said, “Okay, mister. Lay it out for me.”
“I don’t know how much you know about what’s been happening in this theater of operations as of late, but suffice it to say it hasn’t been pretty. A man named Ishaq Madari, a former Libyan dissident and member of the Arab Spring revolution, has kidnapped a Russian scientist and coerced him into developing prototypes of electromagnetic pulse weapons.”
“Holy shit,” was all Garth could apparently think to reply.
“Yes, that was the assessment of our leadership, as well.” McCarter shook his head and folded his arms, pinning Garth with a hard stare. “I don’t think I need to tell you, Captain, my men have been through hell and b
ack on this mission. Somehow, Madari’s managed to stay one step ahead of us. He’s also enlisted the aid of a rogue CIA agent, and he’s been responsible for the death of at least several U.S. political officials.”
“So how did you wind up here?”
McCarter took a deep breath and then sighed. “I’d like to say it was a short story but it really isn’t. Let’s just say that our mission began in Minsk and eventually landed us in Athens and then on one of the lesser Greek Islands, with a name I still can’t bloody pronounce.”
“You have been around the block.”
“Yes, sir. And now—as I noted before, Madari’s managed to keep just out of reach—both Madari and the scientist are in the wind. And we have confirmation from our people, along with what we’ve personally witnessed, that these weapons are viable.”
“How do you know?”
“One was used just several hours ago against a Hellenic patrol boat at the Aegean-Mediterranean water boundaries. The enemy ship appears to be a yacht but does, in fact, have at least one heavy prototype aboard.”
Garth rose and began to pace the small area in front of the desk, scratching his chin absently as he thought through what McCarter had just said. Finally he turned and looked at the Briton. “If it was one of their more modern patrol boats, like the HSY variants, their primary weapon would have been a 76 mm rapid-fire anti-surface cannon. You mean to tell me that one small yacht equipped with just a single one of these prototypes managed to outgun a Hellenic naval vessel?”
“That’s right, Captain,” McCarter replied. “Now everything we know about this weapon would seem to indicate that it’s only capable of taking out other watercraft or land-based targets. We have no reason to think it can take out aircraft—at least we don’t have any evidence of such capability—so we figure the best way to come at them would be fast-attack helicopter via standard air assault.”
“And you want to go in dark,” Garth concluded.
“Correct. We’ve been mandated to take this thing intact if at all possible. We figure if we take out the crew, we’ll take out their ability to operate the weapon. That leaves them having to fight us conventionally and on that count we’ve got them well outclassed.”
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