Counter Caliphate (A Jake Adams International Espionage Thriller Series Book 11)

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Counter Caliphate (A Jake Adams International Espionage Thriller Series Book 11) Page 16

by Trevor Scott


  Jake put on his headset and glanced back toward the men below in the passenger seats. “Everything all right down there?”

  Tucker gave a thumbs up.

  Jean Paul said, “We could all use a bathroom break.”

  The priest nodded his agreement.

  Jake turned to Sirena.

  “We’ll stop up the mountain a ways once we get out of civilization,” Sirena said. Then she powered up the helo and asked permission to take off over the radio.

  Seconds after getting clearance, she lifted off and quickly powered up the chopper, gaining both altitude and distance from the airport in a hurry. But she kept the helo below five hundred feet as she headed toward the east.

  Before they left cell service area, Jake typed in a text to Carlos Gomez, giving the billionaire their status and what they might expect at the mountain camp. Hopefully the man would have some help for them.

  24

  Casablanca, Morocco

  The massive yacht sat moored in the harbor just out from a private marina, but with a view of the commercial port a short distance away.

  Carlos Gomez stood on the bridge of his vessel viewing the unloading of cargo from a small Malta-flagged container ship through binoculars. It was times like this that tested a man’s resolve, he thought.

  His cell phone dinged twice. Checking his phone, he saw that the RFID sensor on his container had been scanned by the port authorities. From the port the container would be mounted onto a large truck and travel by road to Fez, where his men would split up the shipment into smaller trucks and disperse the contents to various locations in the Atlas Mountains. His only concern was the lack of major security. But he was afraid that any show of security would be a big red flag to both the Moroccan authorities and any bandits that wanted to hijack his cargo. Gomez wanted this truck to look like any other on the highway. Nothing to see here. However, he wasn’t a fool. He had two cars of two men each that would shadow his shipment just in case.

  Then he checked the second text and saw that it came from Jake Adams. He and his crew were already in Morocco. Good. And they had found the hostages. Even better. Then he saw the number of terrorists in that camp. More than fifty. That had to be a major training camp, Gomez thought. Adams and his people were in trouble. There was no way they could take on a force that large on their own.

  “Let me know when the truck leaves the port terminal,” Gomez said to the yacht captain.

  “Yes, sir,” the captain said.

  Gomez hurried back to his personal quarters and found his SAT phone charging on his desk. He quickly punched in a number and waited for a response.

  “This is Graves.”

  “Are you in place?” Gomez asked.

  “Yes. I’m in Fez,” General Graves said. “I just got off the flight from Palma.”

  “Great. The container is being loaded onto a truck now. It should be on the road in a moment.”

  “Outstanding.”

  Gomez needed to get right to the point. “General, we have a problem.”

  “The new camp location southwest of Marrakech in the Atlas Mountains.”

  “How did you know?”

  “My contacts gave me the location along with the probable strength just hours ago,” the general explained. “I’m all over it.”

  Gomez knew he could trust this general to get things done, and his assessment of the man had been correct. “Adams and his people will need some help.”

  “I anticipated that, Carlos. I put two vehicles on the road with fourteen men from our southern camp.”

  “Is that enough?”

  “They’re all former special forces from the U.S.,” the general said. “Former Navy SEALS, Delta Force and a couple of Israeli Defense Force commandos. If we had helicopters they could be there by nightfall.”

  “I understand,” Gomez said. “We’ll eventually have air support. But we knew we’d be running lean for a while. Part of that was on purpose. It’s a lot harder to blend in when we have military aircraft.”

  “I agree,” the general said. “As it is, though, the men should be there by morning. We’re talking about travel on crappy two-lanes and some dirt tracks. We’ll need to coordinate with Adams and his people ASAP.”

  “You take care of that,” Gomez said. “Have your men contact Adams directly.” He gave the general the SAT phone number for Jake Adams, along with his cell number. Just in case he was still within range of a cell tower.

  “What about their comm frequencies,” General Graves asked.

  “I don’t have that.”

  “No problem. We’ll get that. Anything else?”

  Gomez thought about that, considering the coordination he had to make with his other factions across north Africa. “I’ll have to get back with you. We might need to attack the other camps simultaneously.”

  Hesitation on the other end of the phone. “That’s almost impossible,” the general said. “We’ll need this last shipment, but drone support could take a few days. I have drone pilots in place at our remote airfield east of Fez. I just need a couple of days. Our technicians will need to assemble and prep the drones for flight.”

  “As soon as Adams attacks that southern camp and word gets out, the other camps might be ordered to disperse,” Gomez explained.

  “That’s my concern as well,” General Graves said. “If they’re using SAT comm, I’m not sure our jammers can take that out fast enough. I’ll order our men to jam the signals from the receiving end in their other camps.”

  “Let’s hope that works,” Gomez said. “If not, your people need to be ready to move, with or without drone support.”

  “Understood. We go to war with the equipment we have, not what we’d like to have.”

  The two of them cut off their call and Gomez sat on his bed, his mind drifting again to the other campaigns about to take place in the next few weeks. If all of their calculations were correct, they would have these terrorist bastards on the run like rats from a burning building. But this time they wanted to make sure the rats had no escape. They couldn’t allow these men to integrate back into normal society, hiding until they could reconstitute. He had to do everything within his power to make sure the other factions didn’t know what was happening in the Atlas Mountains. It was their only hope for success. Failure was not an option.

  •

  Jake felt like his fillings were about to shake loose, sitting in the high cockpit of the Sikorsky helicopter as they rocked and rolled up the valley from relative society to an area of spotty villages nestled into the rock walls like Anasazi cliff dwellings on steroids. According to the GPS map, the villages would soon make way for wilderness.

  The weather had turned from swirling clouds to dusty rain that peppered their helicopter like a sand blaster.

  This area of Morocco reminded Jake of the mountains of eastern Nevada—brown spires with pockmarks of green, and in the winter like this spotty patches of snow in north-facing ridges.

  He checked the GPS again and saw that they were still twenty miles from their destination, and most of that would require a climb in elevation. They were at only two thousand feet now and the camp sat at just over eight thousand.

  Looking back at the men, Sinclair Tucker and Jean Paul Talbot were both sleeping, and the priest was reading a small bible next to the light from an oval window. The priest smiled at Jake, who simply nodded his head in return.

  “What are you thinking, Jake?” Sirena asked through her mic, her hands wrapped tightly on the controls like she was fighting a snake.

  “Just noticing the weather moving in from the east,” he said.

  “The Sahara is experiencing a haboob,” she said. “Winds there are mostly south to north, so we’re just getting the outer edge of that storm.”

  “If the wind shifts we could be screwed.”

  “If that happens, I’ll set us down near the river and we’ll have to wait it out. But I think we’re just going to catch the western edge of the storm.”


  Still, Jake suspected the dust hitting their chopper was like sandpaper. It could mess with their engine.

  “Something else is bothering you,” she said.

  Yeah, it was. Jake didn’t mind putting himself in danger, but now he was responsible for the safety of his crew. He was glad that Alexandra had not made the journey. This is why he preferred to work alone or in a smaller group.

  “This might be a fool’s errand,” Jake said.

  She laughed. “How many of those have you been on in the past couple of decades?”

  Jake knew what she meant. All too often he had stuck his neck out to complete an impossible mission. And many times these efforts came without any acknowledgment. Not that Jake needed a pat on the head.

  “I hear ya,” Jake said. “I know why I took this job, but why did you?”

  “You first,” she said.

  He shrugged and said, “It seemed like a good thing to do at the time. I was bored out of my mind. And nobody seemed to be doing anything to help these medical workers.”

  “They’re the epitome of the adage ‘No good deed goes unpunished.’”

  “Let’s hope we can get to them before the ultimate punishment.”

  Suddenly a warning sound went off and Sirena checked her gauges for a problem. She tapped on a dial and shook her head.

  “What’s wrong?” Jake asked.

  Before Sirena could answer, she put the helicopter into a dive toward the river below.

  “We’re going down, people,” Sirena said.

  The warning sound kept blasting.

  Jake turned to make sure the men were strapped in. They were. Then he tightened his own safety harness and grasped onto the side of his seat.

  25

  The helicopter made a hard landing on a gravel bar along a small stream.

  Sirena shut down the engine immediately, and as the rotors slowed down, she turned to Jake. “That was fun. No extra charge for that ride.”

  Jake let out a little whistle. “You sure know how to get the heart pumping. What the hell happened?”

  Sinclair Tucker climbed up to the cockpit. “Bloody hell, Sirena. You must really have to pee.”

  “Funny. No. I got a mechanical error warning. I’ll go check it out.” She unstrapped from her seat and went down past Tucker before leaving the helicopter through the sliding side door.

  Jake watched Sirena open the engine cowling in the front of the helicopter.

  Tucker leaned back into the cockpit. “Do you think Sirena is seeing anyone?”

  Laughing slightly, Jake said, “You want me to see if she’s available for the prom?”

  “Hey, she’s a beautiful woman,” Tucker explained. “And it’s really hot that she can not only fly a helicopter, but she can also fix it. I’ve got a little wood right now.”

  “You’ve always got a little wood,” Jake said, trying not to smile.

  “Funny man, Jake. You might have a career in stand up if this whole spy thing doesn’t work out.”

  That was the problem for Jake. He was used to the spy game; not so used to making a tactical incursion against a numerically superior force to rescue fifteen hostages. “We could sure use some help on this op.”

  “Our governments are a bunch of pussies, Jake.”

  “Absolutely,” said Jean Paul from behind Tucker. “I tried to convince my country to get involved, but they still have their head in the sand.”

  Tucker said, “Twenty Euros says she’ll take a leak before coming back.”

  “Now that you mention it,” Jake said. “Let me out of here.”

  They all stepped out onto the gravel along the river. The four men lined up against small bushes and relieved themselves.

  Then Jake wandered closer to the river and wondered what kind of fish were in there. Now he wished he had his fly rod. He needed to consider retiring for good. He didn’t need to do this anymore. It was a young man’s game.

  Jake drifted back to Sirena, who was up to her elbows inside an access panel. “What you finding?” he asked.

  She closed the panel and turned to Jake. “A sensor wire was loose giving us a false reading. I’ve reset the breaker and we should be good to go.” She closed the engine cowling and latched the fasteners tightly.

  “We’ve all taken the initiative to relieve ourselves,” Jake said. “You might want to do the same.”

  Sirena shoved her hand into her pocket. “You boys have it easy.” She smiled when she pulled out some tissue paper from her pocket. “No peeking.”

  Walking off toward the bushes, Sirena reminded Jake of Alexandra. They were both strong women who didn’t take shit from anyone. She looked back and twirled her finger for Jake to turn his back.

  “All right boys,” Jake said. “Let’s take another look at the map.” He hauled the others into the passenger area of the helicopter and unfolded the map of the mountains in this area.

  Tucker pointed to a road that looked like nothing better than a goat trail. “We’ll need to hike up this way to gain superior position.”

  “I agree,” Jean Paul said.

  “That’s the only easy way up,” Jake said. “Which is why they’ll have guards patrolling there.” He ran his finger up along a north-facing ridge. “This would be a better approach. It keeps us in the shade during daylight.”

  “True enough,” Tucker said. “But that’s one hell of a climb.”

  “They won’t expect anyone coming up that way,” Jake explained. “And you can bring the Barrett up to that ridge. They won’t be able to get within three hundred yards of you across that open area. You could pick them off one by one.”

  “If I don’t have a heart attack carrying the Barrett up the mountain,” Tucker said. “The gun alone weighs more than thirty pounds.”

  “What I miss?” Sirena said, after coming in behind the men.

  “Tucker doesn’t think he can carry the Barrett up the mountain by himself,” Jake said mockingly.

  “I can help him,” Sirena said.

  “No. You need to drop us off here,” Jake said, pointing to an open area some five miles down the mountain from the terrorist camp. “There’s no way they’ll see or hear us fly in there.”

  “Right,” Sirena said. “This mountain is in the way.”

  Jake shook his head. “But we need you to stay with the chopper. Once we free the medical workers, we’ll need you for exfil from this location.” Jake ran his finger up to an opening about two miles below the camp.

  The priest finally broke in. “I am going with you, Jake.”

  “Sorry, father,” Jake said. “But I think you should stay with Sirena.”

  “Do I need to remind you that I was with Italian special forces in my youth?” the priest said.

  Jake scanned the eyes of the other crew members. “All right. Father, you go with Tucker to the sniper position. You’ll need to carry a heavy pack with ammo, along with another M-16 and comm gear. Are you up for that?”

  “With God’s help, I will be fine,” the priest said.

  “All right,” Jake said. “It’s a good thing we stopped here. How long before you get us to the drop point, Sirena?”

  “About a half hour,” she said.

  Jake checked his watch and tried to calculate how long it would take them to climb five miles up the side of that mountain. “We’ll be hiking in the dark.”

  “All right, then,” Tucker said. “Let’s get some food and water in us before we take off.”

  “Good point,” Jake said. “We’ll also need to carry some water in with us. It’s cool here, but still very dry.”

  They snacked and hydrated and then packed up their gear in small back packs. Each pack also had a Camelback bladder they filled with water. Once they were done with that, Sirena got back into the cockpit and prepped the helo for flight. Jake took the seat next to her.

  “I know you want to come with us, Sirena,” Jake said. “But we’ll need a pilot to fly the medical workers off that mountain. We can’t ha
ve anything happen to you.”

  “I know, Jake. But you guys are going in there four to fifty. One extra gun would be helpful.”

  “I know. But I need you to handle communications also. If anything happens to us, you need to somehow get the hell out and try to convince the Agency to go in with force.”

  “I don’t know that I can make that happen,” she said. “And you’ll be fine. I’ve heard all about your life experiences. You seem to have this ability to get yourself out of tight spots.”

  “Right. After I’ve gotten myself into those tight spots. But this is not my specialty, Sirena.”

  “I thought you were an outdoorsman.”

  “I am. But special ops tactics are not for me. I’m more of a dark alley kind of guy, taking on other spies.”

  “You’ll be fine,” she said. “The enemy is more easily defined here. Shoot anyone with a gun.” Sirena smiled and then started the chopper engine, letting the rotors increase in speed.

  Jake strapped himself into his seat again and waited for them to take off.

  Sirena pointed to her ear and Jake took that as a sign to put on his own headset.

  “I just got a weather warning over the radio,” she said. “We have a short window before the wind and rain picks up in this region. Then we’ll be grounded.”

  “That might work to our advantage,” Jake said. “It’ll make it more difficult to hear the helo coming.”

  “You’re right. But you’ll have to climb the mountain in a storm in the dark.”

  Wonderful. He nodded to her.

  Then Sirena power up even more and lifted off the gravel bar and headed up the river valley, rising higher as they gained speed.

  26

  The wind picked up as the Sikorsky helicopter bucked heavy gusts and thermals. Darkness came now from the black swirling clouds, and rain started to tink against the windscreen as they came in low and slow.

  Sirena set the helo down onto a grassy patch of earth barely wide enough for the rotors. Then she immediately cut the power and the rotors started the slow recess to ending their rotation.

 

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