Freedom's Promise: Task Force 125

by Lisa Pietsch

  Will tipped his head to one side thoughtfully. “Is he big enough to handle this?”

  “Fuck, yeah. He’s got a wicked massive operation going. Blackwater has nothing on him.”

  Will half-smiled. “Good. Where’s Chris?”

  “He’s downstairs running those coordinates you texted.” Guinea handed Sarah the bottle of tequila and the glass. “Here’s your tea, Cinderella.”

  Sarah frowned at the odd reference, poured some tequila in the glass, and shot it down like a drunk five minutes before last call.

  Guinea appeared disappointed. “Gown. No shoes. Missing Prince Charming. Jesus, don’t you people read?”

  “Guinea, quit screwing around. We need you to put a call in to Brock right away. Use the secure line in the office downstairs. I want a full squad, sixteen guys.”

  Guinea turned to Will. “Specialties?”

  “Marines may be more sympathetic to our cause but mainly we just need sixteen of the meanest motherfuckers in the valley of the shadow of death.”

  “Hazard pay?”

  Will nodded. “Contact is expected. We’ll arm, armor and pay top dollar. Have him fax the contract and name his price. I’ll transfer the funds immediately. I want his best guys on this.”

  “When do you want them?”

  “See if you can get them here in twenty-four hours. We’ll put them up at the Burj Al Arab when they arrive.”

  “You got it, Billy.” Guinea dropped his cigarette in the ashtray and slipped quickly and quietly through the basement door.

  “Jason, what’s the status of Vince’s armory?”

  “Weapons all in working order. Plenty for an assault squad. Ammo supplies are all good. Brian’s gonna want to check the explosives.”

  “Has Vince got a Mark-19 in there?”

  “Sure does.”

  “Good. Get one mounted on that chopper and get the minigun set up too. I want a full complement of ammo for both.”

  “You got it.”

  Guinea emerged from the basement just as Jason opened the door. “All set. They’ll be in Dubai tomorrow night at 2100 hours.”

  Jason paused to hear Will’s plan for the mercenaries.

  “Good. I’ll call the Burj and get some suites set up on my account. We’ll have them standby there until we’re ready for them.”

  Will looked up at Brian who was leaning on the fireplace mantle. “Brian let’s get the choppers prepped and ready for action and make sure the explosives are ready.”

  “You got it, brother.”

  Jason moved to step downstairs just as Chris returned from the basement with a handful of photos and another handful of notes. He dropped them on the coffee table, plopped onto the couch, and started organizing the photos to create a large satellite picture. He rattled off important tactical information to nobody in particular as he moved the photos around the table.

  “I took shots from every angle I could get. The whole place is solid concrete.”

  The team gathered around the low table to examine the photos.

  “The clear area around the compound is two kilometers in every direction. The compound wall is a complete three-sixty with only two gates.” He pointed to gates on the East and West sides of the compound. “Here and here. The good news is there are a couple of advisors in the village attached to Jason’s old unit.” He glanced up at Will. “Maybe we can work that connection?”

  Jason seemed thrilled. “Get out!”

  “Yeah, any chance you know a Gene Fonseca or Rob Danitz?”

  Jason grinned. “Gino and I go way back. He’ll help us out.”

  Will pointed to the basement door. “Make the calls now, Jase. We’ll take care of the weapons later.”

  Jason nodded. “I’ll see if I can get the number to Gino’s Sat-phone and get in touch.”

  Brian parked himself on the couch and leaned over the photos Chris had laid out, rubbing his hands in anticipation. “Let’s see what we’re going to reduce to rubble here.”

  Will and Chris carefully taped the edges of the photos together to create a large satellite image of the area in and around Nikolai’s compound. Satisfied that every edge was in its proper place, Will pulled a cigar from his breast pocket and lit it. He looked around the coffee table at everyone.

  “All right, listen. This guy is Red Mafia, and he’s bound to have some mean security. We’ll need to hit him hard and fast and clean the whole scene. Make no mistake, this won’t be pretty.”

  Brian leaned forward and rested his elbows on his knees. “We’re all in, Will. What’s the plan?”

  “We’re going with a time tested technique. Speed, surprise and violence.”

  ~~~

  During a break in the tactical planning session, Sarah went upstairs to change into something more comfortable. She returned wearing a pair of jeans and one of Vince’s button-down shirts. She walked through the hallway just as Jason came up from the basement. “Have you been on the phone down there this whole time?”

  Jason put his arm around Sarah’s shoulder as they walked into the living room. “Hey, it ain’t easy tracking down a top secret phone number and then hacking into it so your call isn’t traced or monitored.”

  “You did all that?” She stopped and stared with admiration. “Here I thought you were just another pretty face.”

  Jason smiled and bobbed his eyebrows at Sarah. “That’s part of the fun, isn’t it? Listen to everything that goes on in planning, kid. Behind the scenes is where the real spy shit happens.”

  They sat on the floor between the fireplace and the coffee table and examined the notes Brian, Chris, and Will had made on the satellite photo mosaic.

  Will looked up from the legal pad he had been furiously scratching notes on. “Jason, what did you get? Tell me something good.”

  Jason pulled a notepad from his cargo pocket. “Okay, I talked to Gino. They’re in. Gino and Rob are up for logistical support but can’t get caught doing anything tactical. They have a couple trucks we can use and know a place where we can camp and keep the choppers undetected.”

  “Excellent.” Brian nodded.

  Jason handed Will a slip of paper. “These are the coordinates.”

  Will noted the coordinates on his legal pad and passed the slip of paper to Chris.

  Jason continued while Chris took notes. “All we need to do is give Gino a head’s up when we’re coming in. He’ll make sure it’s clear. He’s got an in with some local Bedouins and will get us a couple tents, about the size of GP Mediums so they’ll be big enough for all of us.”

  “Good work, Jason. Damned lucky you had an in that close. That’ll make things much easier. Anything else?”

  “Oh, yeah, there’s no love or loyalty from the local tribe for Nikolai. They steer clear of his compound for the most part. He pays them off pretty regularly and they take the money, but there won’t be any hearts broken if he’s blown off the map. Gino is positive Nikolai won’t get any backup locally from the Al Han’ah.”

  Brian sat bolt upright and said the words that were also on the tip of Sarah’s tongue. “What did you say?”

  Jason gave Brian a blank stare. “What?”

  “What’s that tribe’s name again?”

  Jason checked his notes and pointed to the name he’d written. “Al Han’ah.”

  Little lines creased at the edges of Brian’s eyes and he grinned wide as he punched Will in the arm. “Fuckin’ ay, Will!”

  Will let out a sigh and leaned back against the couch. His crystal blue eyes glowed with the same relief Sarah felt.

  Sarah’s skin tingled with the possibilities this opened for them. She knew this was exactly what they needed to get the upper hand. She grinned at Brian. “Me against my brother, me and my brother against our cousin, me, my brother and my cousin against the stranger.”

  Brian pointed to Sarah with one hand and to his nose with the other, as if they were playing charades. “That’s it!”

  Chris laid a curious stare on Brian.
“What the hell are you talking about?”

  Brian jumped out of his seat and shook his head. “Dude! Have you not read the background information in my dossier?”

  Chris stared up at him, confused. “I’ve read the important stuff.” He rattled off bullet points from Brian’s resume. “Fifteen years as a SEAL. One of the Navy’s best demolition men. Forty some odd successful missions.”

  “Chris, my father’s family name is Al Han’ah. He emigrated from Saudi Arabia.”

  Guinea snorted. “And this is your intelligence guy?” He chuckled. “Some things never change.”

  “Hey now.” Will sat straight and took a drink from his glass. “Chris doesn’t need to know everyone’s family history.” Will gestured at all the photographic intelligence they had before them. “He does a damned fine job as it is.”

  Brian smiled an apology and patted Chris on the shoulder. “You’re doing fine, man. I don’t broadcast my family history for obvious reasons.” He checked his watch. “First prayer just finished. I’ll make some calls right now. The head of the family is my second cousin, Hamza, so I’ll see what information I can get from him.” Brian left the room and disappeared down the basement stairway.

  Guinea squinted at Will and punctuated his question by pointing with his cigarette between his first two fingers. “Willy, how’s a guy with close Arab connections like he seems to have get the kind of clearance needed to do this work?”

  Sarah watched Jason’s shoulders pull back the way they always did before a fight. She had seen him recoil and spring like a cat when people disrespected his friends. She laid her right hand gently on his knee.

  Stay cool, Jase. He doesn’t know us.

  Will sat back and re-lit his cigar as he eyed Guinea. “Guinea, let me tell you about that man. Brian’s father did three tours in Vietnam and even his bones didn’t come back from the third one. His mother’s family has been ranching in Texas since before it was an independent republic.”

  “And commmies have been living in the U.S. for a century, Billy.”

  Comparing Brian to a Communist was more than Sarah was willing to stand for. She sprung off the floor. “Now wait a fucking minute!”

  Jason grabbed her arm before she could cross the room to Guinea.

  “Sarah.” Will’s brotherly warning and the determined look in his eyes told her he had this under control.

  She fumed as Jason pulled her arm, and she lowered herself to the edge of the couch.

  Will turned back to Guinea. “Brian passed on a full ride football scholarship at the University of Texas to join the Navy at seventeen. He served fifteen years on the SEAL teams before he was offered this gig.” His eyes narrowed. “That man bleeds red, white, and blue.”

  Guinea held his hands up in surrender. “Okay, then.” He turned to Sarah. “My bad. I was out of line.”

  Will looked around at Chris, Jason and Sarah. “Matter of fact, you could cut any one of my people open and they’d bleed Old Glory for you. You’ve never seen a greater group of patriots than the folks you’re sitting with this morning.”

  Guinea nodded, quite effectively put in his place by Will’s stern words. “That works for me.” He stood. “How about some breakfast?”

  “Sounds good.” Will glanced at his watch and nodded. “We could all use a good meal and some sleep after being up for the last twenty-four hours.”

  Chapter Nineteen

  The only sound at the table was the tapping of silverware to plates as everyone dug into the breakfast they’d whipped up together. Scrambled eggs, Canadian bacon, sausage, biscuits, coffee and orange juice were served family style on Vince’s large dining room table. In the military tradition, Will laid out a place setting at the head of the table for their missing comrade. It set a somber mood for the team as they prepared to go to war.

  Guinea broke the silence. “Hey, I finally thought of a name and a background for the new me.”

  Brian turned to look at Guinea. “Really? What is it?”

  “Anthony Gilbert, former Air Force Security Forces.”

  Will chuckled. “Okay, man. Tell us what it means.”

  “My dad was Italian American so I chose Anthony, and my mother’s family was Canuk so I chose Gilbert for her. I chose Air Force Security Forces because I now have a new respect for those troops we all used to think were just mindless grunts.”

  He nodded toward Sarah. “You carry yourself like a professional. It says a lot that you aren’t a hysterical mess while we have to wait to get this operation together.”

  Sarah gave him a half-smile. “Thanks, Guinea.”

  Brian shot Sarah a wink, and she smiled in thanks for his pep talk at the Burj Al Arab. She wanted to appear the professional Guinea saw, not a sulking mess in sweatpants as Brian had so bluntly put it.

  Jason set his fork down and took a drink of his coffee. “So what are your plans for this new identity, Tony? May I call you Tony?”

  Guinea tilted his head thoughtfully. “Yeah, Tony is good.” He rubbed the stubble on his chin. “I’ll probably do some freelancing for Brock for a while just to establish the new identity and get a nest egg saved. Then I’ll retire, get myself a little camp up in Maine, and do some fishing.”

  Jason lit up. “Now that’s what I’m talking about.” He set his coffee cup down and refilled it. “I don’t mind telling you guys, ever since Vince told us he was retiring, I’ve been thinking about it myself. I’ve got that log cabin up on Sophie Lake in Montana. Wouldn’t be bad to cash in my chips and chill by the lake. There’s still plenty of game and big fish up there.” He shot a devious look at Sarah. “Maybe I can find myself a good Canadian woman with childbearing hips who can hold her liquor?”

  “Yeah the team just wouldn’t be the same without the whole gang.” Will pushed his empty plate away and leaned back in his chair. “I’ve been thinking about that too. A man can’t keep doing this kind of work forever. I’ve got that ranch in Venezuela and the only people enjoying it are my wife and the gauchos. The little woman has been quite successful breeding those Polo ponies. Ranch living in South America has its perks.” A serene smile overcame his face. He took a deep breath and smiled. “Yeah. What about you, Brian?”

  Brian’s chest rose and fell with a deep breath. “I could probably put in a few more years just for kicks.” He set his fork and knife on his plate and smiled at Sarah. “I think Vince has the right idea. Get a good woman who gives as good as she gets and settle down.” His eyes sparkled with mischief. “Maybe I can find myself a scuba diving mamacita and kick it in Cabo until my liver gives out.”

  “I suppose retirement would allow me more time to work on my golf game.” Chris ran his fingers through his blond curls. He shrugged. “I do have that friend at Fox News that has been nagging me about taking a consultant position.”

  Guinea started picking up the dirty dishes. “What about you, Cinderella? Are you and Prince Charming planning on setting up housekeeping here?”

  “We really didn’t have a chance to talk about where we’d live. Honestly, I really don’t care where we go. I just want to find Vince, see for myself that he’s all right, and get him back. After that, I can be happy living anywhere and doing anything.” Sarah rubbed her face to push back the tears she felt coming. “I’m really tired guys. I think I’ll try to get some sleep.”

  “Yeah, we all need some good downtime. We’ve got a lot of work to do.” Will picked up his legal pad loaded with notes. “I’ve got a hundred phone calls to make before I sleep.” He stood. “Jason, as soon as you wake up, you’ve got weapons detail. Chris, you’ll need to work on that map. Brian, let’s get those choppers fueled and mission-ready first thing. Sarah, we’re going to need cots, sleeping bags, and bivouac gear for the desert.”

  Each of them nodded in receipt of their assignments.

  Sarah stood and picked up her dirty dishes. “No problem, Will. Are we going to have enough to feed this army of ours?”

  Will’s eyebrows rose. “Good questio
n, Sarah.”

  She shrugged. “Leave it to a former fatty to think about food, huh?”

  Brian patted her ass as she walked around the table to the kitchen sink. “Former being the operative word.”

  Will jotted more notes on his pad. “Guinea, when you wake up, check the dry goods stores downstairs and give me a situation report.”

  “Wilco.”

  Sarah made for the stairs at a sleepy pace. “Night all.”

  “Goodnight, Sarah.”

  “Night.”

  “G’night.”

  Chapter Twenty

  Vince woke to the sound of a key in the door. It was a light touch so he assumed whoever was on the other side was trying to be quiet, but why? He braced himself for the worst.

  The door opened and a woman in an abaya and niqab in with a tray of food.

  Vince didn’t give a second thought to the armed man outside the door when he smelled the fresh eggs and coffee the woman set down on the small bedside table.

  She looked up at Vince with the sad eyes of a slave, eyes that showed a spirit battered and just as bruised as her face, most probably all inflicted by ill treatment from her employer.

  Vince knew what guys like Nikolai did to people. He also knew they loved hiring sadistic bastards to work for them.

  The Australian stepped into the room.

  Speak of the devil.

  “Nikolai will be out on business for a few hours so you have a little more time to think about his proposal. There’s your breakfast. Choke on it.” The Australian pushed the woman’s shoulder, and she stumbled out of the room.

  Bastard.

  Vince hopped out of bed as the door closed and pulled on his jeans, which were now both clean and dry. He poured a cup of coffee from the small pot and savored the aroma before drinking the first cup in a single gulp. He picked up the pack of cigarettes and tapped one out, lighting it with the lighter he’d lifted from Nikolai.

  How am I going to play this to buy more time? Come on, Will. I won’t be able to hold him off long. Should I tell him I’ll play ball? If I do, he’ll want names and numbers right away. I need to stall.