The Path to Freedom (Task Force 125)

by Pietsch, Lisa; Gerow, Tina

  Sarah took a drag from her cigarette and smiled. “You’re welcome. Sarah Stevens and yes, I did. Do I get a cut of the take?”

  He smiled a devilishly crooked smile and looked her up and down. “I’m sure we could work something out.”

  Cute. I’m flattered, but we both know the first rule for anyone in a military operation is not to sleep with the people you work with.

  The guy that Vince had been talking to when Sarah rounded the corner reached out to shake her hand. “I’m Chris. I didn’t take the bet, but I’ll be happy to lay money down on you any time,” he said with a wink.

  More cute. What a bunch of flirts.

  Sarah chuckled under her breath and nodded. “Thanks, I’ll remember that.”

  The tall, lean drink of water with brown hair dying to have fingers run through it had brown eyes to match his hair. He raised a hand nonchalantly and introduced himself. “I’m Brian. Nice touch taking the car. Took balls. I like that.” He sat at a picnic table while keeping eye contact with Sarah. “What would you have done if the Caddy had been reported stolen and the cops stopped you?”

  Sarah was interrupted before she could answer. “Balls or just plain necessity? Did you see the shoes the car thief was wearing? Figure the odds of her hoofin’ it in those!” The guy with a touch of gray and stunning blue eyes smiled at Sarah. “Hey, pork chop. I’m Will.”

  “Hi, Will. We’re gonna chat about that pet name.” Sarah looked at Brian to answer his question. “Cops? Hot girl, blood on her face, miniskirt…I’ve done plenty of speeding and never got a ticket when I wore a mini. You do the math.” Sarah looked around at the guys she’d been talking to. “Wait a minute here…were you all watching or what?”

  Will, the guy who liked to call her “pork chop,” answered. “Well, you know Vince and I were there. Shawn drove the truck around the corner and we filmed the whole fight. The rest of the guys here saw the film.”

  “Yeah, it’s in my home video collection entitled ‘Black Betty and her Stupendous Stilettos.’” Brian grinned. “Too bad it’s not porn. It’s an awesome title for one. Hey, still not too late to add a little…”

  “Let me get to know you a little better first, stud. Black Betty?” Sarah frowned.

  “Yeah. You didn’t happen to notice the song playing on the car radio as you kicked ass, did you? ‘Black Betty’ made an excellent soundtrack for the video.” Brian laughed.

  Then the smooth baritone that made Sarah’s insides tremble and her breath come a little faster said, “All right ladies, enough bullshitting. We’ve got work to do. Get your asses back inside.” He took a drag off the cigarette he’d been holding, then flicked the cigarette into the butt can and started back inside while the other guys followed.

  Sarah took a long drag off her own cigarette.

  Okay, Stevens. Whatever you do, do not look at his ass. Damn! Too late. Hmm…I hate to see you leave, but I love to watch you go. That ought to be illegal.

  After the last guy rounded the corner, she put out her cigarette, took a deep breath and returned to the briefing room.

  When the door closed, Colonel Young spoke. “Okay, everybody’s here. Let’s get started. We’ve taken your individual specialties into consideration in creating this team. I’ll let your tactical commander, Major Hennessee, explain your duties and brief you on your next mission. Vince, they’re all yours.”

  Colonel Young stepped through a door in the front of the room and Sarah turned her attention toward the end of the table where Vince sat. Dread rose inside her, tightening her chest. Her fantasy man was her boss, married, and a Major no less!

  Oh man, there are so many degrees of uncool here. I’ve got to get over this ridiculous infatuation. I guess this explains why he was watching me during training. He’s got to have some input on who he gets on his team. But why me?

  Vince stood and moved away from his chair. As he walked around the table, he stopped behind each team member whose job he described.

  “Listen up. Chris is communications. Radios, phones, bugs and translation, he’s our man.”

  Sarah glanced at Chris.

  He raised an eyebrow, winked at Sarah and said in an exaggerated voice-over voice, “I’m here if you need to talk.”

  Sarah smiled. Chris appeared to be too pretty to be a technical wonk and interpreter.

  Jason rolled his eyes as he mumbled, “Frigging geek.”

  Sarah stifled a laugh.

  Chris pointed at Jason. “Hey, Jase, you’re just jealous you can’t chat up the ladies in seven different languages. Hell man, you’re lucky if you can stammer it out in English!”

  “Lock it up, girls.” Vince stood still, arms crossed over his massive chest. “Jason is our weapons guy. He’ll equip us for this job. Sarah.” Her heart jumped when he said her name. “You’ll get your knives from him.” Vince paused for a moment and held Sarah’s gaze.

  Beefcake like you and knives, too? Sweet. I certainly wouldn’t mind knowing exactly what I’m supposed to do with those knives. Is it just me or is he staring?

  Vince broke eye contact and stepped behind the blue-eyed wonder who kept calling her “pork chop.” “Will is our supply guy and medic. Let’s hope we don’t need his medical skills.” Vince pointed to the hottie with the hair. “Last is Brian, our explosives man.”

  Brian ran his fingers through his hair and sat back confidently. “We always need those skills.”

  Another man Sarah didn’t know walked through the door.

  “Sorry, man,” he said distractedly to Vince as he flopped down in the empty chair next to Sarah.

  “You’re late again, Tony.” Vince’s voice was stern. “Getting a little too accustomed to civilian life, eh, trust fund?”

  Vince glanced at Sarah again and spoke directly to her. “Tony is a floater. We bring him in on special jobs. He’s the inside guy who will make the introductions.”

  Tony flashed a friendly smile at Sarah and whispered, “Hi.”

  Vince peeked at the clock on the wall and then turned to the table. “Any questions about your duties?”

  Sarah tentatively raised one hand.

  “Oh, yeah, this is Sarah. She’ll be our inside operative and our main source of information on the target. You’re all familiar with her handiwork.” He smiled as his eyes met hers and then quickly looked away.

  A barrage of questions surged through Sarah’s mind at that moment, but she didn’t have time to ask as Vince continued his briefing.

  “Okay, here’s the deal. Our task force has been created to deal with those very special people obsessed with power and money who finance and supply terrorist groups. Gun runners, drug runners, slave traders and other scumbag types are the folks we’ll be dealing with. This is not a short assignment, but an ongoing program that will most likely include several missions each year with little downtime.”

  What the hell would I do with downtime anyway?

  “The ops tempo will be high out of necessity. It’ll take time and energy to find out where our targets are and then even more time and energy to get inside. Once we’re inside, we’ll need to get close enough for link analysis. We have to become a part of the inner circle. We have to find out who they know, who their relatives and associates are and then we start tactically removing all of those people from circulation.”

  Sarah’s eyes widened with surprise as the true purpose of their mission hit her. A shiver ran up her spine.

  We find them, bleed them of information and kill them?

  Vince paced at the front of the room. “Nothing will blow the mission faster than a team member breaking cover and being involved in an embarrassing news story. Everyone needs to keep their mouth shut and lay as low as possible if anything goes sideways. If anybody here gets into a sticky situation, there had better damned well be five others ready to facilitate an emergency egress because we’re all we’ve got.”

  He went on to describe how with the war on terror, satellite photos were next to useless while spies i
nside the targets’ organizations were invaluable. “Our team uses any means necessary to get inside terrorist organizations, determine the chain of command and then eliminate it. We’re not only cutting off the snake’s head, but we’re expected to chop up the body and dispose of it to completely eliminate any future threat.”

  Everyone wants terrorism to go away but nobody wants to know how far the front line has to go to make it happen.

  Reality settled in Sarah’s stomach like a small stone.

  It makes sense to do it this way and use the terrorists’ own tactics.

  Sarah understood as far as Congress and the public went, Black World didn’t exist, therefore anything a Black World operator did didn’t actually happen. It was all about plausible deniability. If the media found out anything, the government could deny it all since Black Ops never left trails. As for the public, well, they’d never figure it out. After all, they thought “Men in Black” was just a funny movie.

  Sarah’s thoughts were interrupted when Will spoke up. “So, we’re still on the money trail, right, boss?”

  Vince turned to Will. “That’s right. The cash sources and credit lines for supporting terrorism are still out there and as long as the money is there, these groups will still be dangerous.”

  Jason leaned back in his chair. “But I thought the Saudis were cracking down on that crap?”

  Chris answered his question. “The financiers are getting more creative. The Saudis slowed the process for a while, but recent intel suggests it’s on an upswing.”

  “That’s right,” Vince agreed. “There is a growing group of younger men in their thirties and forties whose access to unguarded terrorist cash has corrupted them and addicted them to a much more luxurious life than the more idealistic Muslims who were involved for principle rather than profit. These profiteers are more dangerous than anyone else because their motives don’t include religion.”

  Will interrupted again. “That’s our opening, right?”

  “Exactly. These guys are easily accessible by westerners if approached properly, preferably with the sale of guns or drugs or through social connections. Just like the IRA and South American Marxists turned their organizations into drug cartels, there are Islamic radicals who are starting to freelance. Since they maintain their connections to their terrorist organizations, they provide an excellent opening for groups like us to get inside.” Vince rubbed the back of his neck. “Anybody need a break before we go into mission details?”

  Sarah scanned the table and memorized every face.

  “No.” Will sat back in his chair and cracked his knuckles. “Let’s get to it, boss.”

  Vince picked up a file folder off the table. “Our target for this operation is Sheikh Hassan Abdullah Mohammed al-Rashid, a Saudi with considerable holdings in Syria and North Africa. He started his career as a grunt for Al Qaeda, but he made and used enough political connections to get himself in tight with Osama.”

  Sarah watched Vince as he spoke. When his eyes met hers, she held his stare.

  Vince looked back down at the file. “A couple years ago, he and Osama had a difference of opinion and decided to part ways. That’s when he began operating independently as a major smuggler and financier of radical Islamic terrorism. Smugglers like this guy have been making a killing since the war on terror began because they can move items like drugs, munitions, large sums of money and even people quickly while also making the trail difficult to trace. Because these guys are shadows, police organizations can’t do a thing about them. And that’s where we come in.”

  The cop in Sarah had to ask, “So, if police organizations can’t get anything on guys like this, what evidence have we got?”

  Vince’s eyes twinkled as he met Sarah’s gaze.

  Sarah instinctively took a deep breath as her blood began to race through her veins.

  “Hassan has been buying and selling a lot of ships lately and we have good intel that these ships are not empty and they’re being sold to individuals or relatives of individuals with connections to specific terrorist groups operating in the Mediterranean, Africa, and the Indian Ocean.”

  Brian spoke for the first time since they’d entered the briefing room. “So, how are we taking this guy down?”

  Vince glanced at his watch. “Our mission is to infiltrate Hassan’s inner circle and figure out who’s who in the organization, and who the links to other organizations are. We have to map out as much of his organization, family and associates as possible. Once we do that, we eliminate the problem through apprehension and turning individuals over to the appropriate agencies.”

  “And if things go tactical?” Brian asked.

  Vince laced his hands together and leaned forward. “Then we eliminate the threat by any means necessary with little regard for collateral damage.”

  “I’m guessing Tony has something to do with getting us in?” Will asked.

  Vince smiled at Tony. “That’s right. Tony has a small but significant role in this job. Hassan is a notorious womanizer and enjoys a life of conspicuous consumption.”

  Vince’s eyes met Sarah’s again. “Sarah is going to pose as a socialite and get as close as possible to Hassan. If she can move in his circle, she’ll be the primary source of information on him and his associates. This will be deep cover. Tony is only going to be able to get Sarah into Hassan’s orbit. The rest is gonna be up to her. I’ll be working undercover on this one as an arms supplier, but my contact with Sarah will be limited and unpredictable, so her primary point of contact will be Chris.”

  Deep cover? A socialite? Me? You gotta be kidding. What the hell do I know about being a socialite?

  Vince’s voice broke through Sarah’s panicked thoughts. “Okay, people, we’ve got four weeks to prepare for this mission. Sarah and Tony, you need to report to Forum Tower Suite one-twenty-five at Caesar’s Palace at o-nine-hundred tomorrow. You’ll receive further instructions on mission preparation at that time. Until then, we’ve got twenty-four hours mandatory R&R and an icebreaker at Brian’s place.”

  Everyone stood to leave, but Sarah remained seated a moment to let it all soak in. She had so many questions that she couldn’t put anything into words.

  The room emptied except for Sarah and one other person.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Sarah rubbed her eyes as she tried to wrap her mind around her new job.

  “Hey, Stevens, you all right?” Vince’s hand rested on her shoulder as he sat beside her.

  His touch distracted her reeling mind. “Uh, no. I don’t think so.”

  Vince crossed his arms on the table and stared into Sarah’s eyes. “Listen, if you don’t think you can do this, it’s not too late to back out. You can still debrief and forget you were ever offered the job.”

  “No, oh, no! I want the job. I definitely want the job. I’ve wanted this for a long time.”

  “Well, then what’s the problem?”

  Sarah spoke to herself as much as to Vince. “A person goes through life wishing for something, trying everything they can to make it happen. They push and push but never quite get there. They get close enough to see it but it’s always just out of reach. Then one day the bottom falls out and the world is pitch-black. When the lights come up, there are five guys standing there handing you that life you’ve wanted on a silver platter. I don’t know if I should jump up and down, cry or laugh.”

  Vince smiled. “Okay, babe. If you’re going to jump up and down, give us fair warning ‘cause I think we’d like to watch. If you’re going to cry, don’t do it in front of the boys ‘cause they just don’t know what to do around weepy women. As for laughing, you can do as much of that as you like, whenever you want.”

  As Vince stood, Sarah gazed up into his smiling face and caught her breath.

  Vince pulled a pack of cigarettes out of his pocket. “Now why don’t you go pack your gear and meet me back here in five? I’ll start answering some questions for you on the ride into town. You got a vehicle at the airpo
rt?”

  “Yeah, I do.” Sarah stood. “Thanks. I’ll be right back.” Sarah walked to her hut to throw her few belongings into her duffel bag.

  Tracey was on her way out as Sarah opened the door. “Catch you later, loser!”

  Sarah held out a hand to stop her. “You made it, right?”

  “Oh, hell, yeah!”

  “What unit are you with?”

  “White Wolf. We work the stans.” Tracey smiled wide.

  Sarah thought about the crime in that particular area of the world. “All the stans? What’s that? Pakistan, Afghanistan, Uzbekistan, Tajikistan, Kyrgyzstan, Turkmenistan, Kazakhstan?”

  “Hey, you passed sixth grade geography.” Tracey dropped her duffel bag on the floor and leaned against the wall as she spoke to Sarah.

  Sarah thought about her friend’s safety. “Damn, girl. That’s a rough neighborhood.”

  “Yeah, no shit.” Tracey pushed a stray blond lock of hair out of her eye. “Beats being homeless in Florida though. What about you?”

  “American Swift. We’ll be in the Med.”

  “Score for you, loser.” Tracey shook her head. “I’ll be freezing my ta-tas off in a yurt in the Tien Shans and you’ll be working on your tan in Greece.”

  “Hey, look on the bright side. I hear mink is cheap in that part of the world.” Sarah winked.

  “Yeah, that’s a comfort.” Tracey laughed as she picked up her duffel bag.

  “Watch your ass, Trace.”

  “You, too. I’ll see you when I see you.” With a smile and one last “L” on her forehead, Tracey walked out the door.

  Sarah packed the rest of her things and returned to the briefing hut. When she arrived, Vince was waiting outside in a Black Dodge Ram pickup truck. “Hey, this thing got a Hemi?” she asked jokingly.

  “Yeah, as a matter of fact it does,” Vince deadpanned. “It’s the only thing the wife hasn’t taken…yet. You do remember my estranged and soon to be ex wife?”

  “Oh, yeah,” Sarah said nonchalantly, trying to be polite.

  “Cut the crap.” Vince shrugged. “She’s a hell-bitch.”