Shot at Redemption

by Ken W. Smith

  Karen shined a flashlight on the gun. The barrel was light gray steel with a dark mahogany handle inlaid with hundreds of jewels. It was not a typical weapon. It was beautiful. Gia noticed a piece of black velcro taped to the side of the barrel.

  Gia led the team back to the cave entrance, where she could get a radio signal.

  “We got it, Jay. We got the smoking gun. And there’s no way a man could have pushed the gun that far into the wall. His hand would never fit.”

  * * *

  CJ watched the five technicals drive up the road. A quick shot could take out the lead driver. The disabled truck would block the road and prevent the rest of the trucks from surrounding the cave. But he didn’t have the authority to make the shot. So instead, he watched the convoy approach. Madman took close-up photos of the drivers and gunmen.

  “Jay, we have visitors,” CJ said into his mike. “Five technicals with .50 caliber machine guns mounted on their beds. At least five fighters per truck. They’re all armed with AK-47s.”

  “Hang tight. We don’t know what the Taliban’s intentions are yet. They may not be hostile.”

  “Are you kidding me?” Madman said. “Everybody in this hell hole is hostile.”

  “Michelle,” Jay said. “Can you lift off and hover over the cave entrance? We have visitors approaching.”

  “Roger. But I can’t stay exposed if they have RPGs.”

  “I understand.”

  Michelle lifted off and maneuvered her trifan over the cave entrance. She couldn’t see any of the rocket-propelled grenade launchers, so she moved up closer. To be safe, she activated her air-to-ground weapons and missile defense system. The firing computer locked onto the lead truck.

  Gia stopped inside the entrance, “We’re ready for extraction.”

  “Hold tight. We have a problem. Technicals are approaching on the mountain road.

  “Can we evacuate before they get here?” Karen said. “We’re ready to go.”

  “Negative. It’s not safe.”

  CJ chimed in, “If we engage them now, we’ll have a better chance of escaping.”

  “Can’t do it,” Jay replied. “Against our rules of engagement. They have to shoot first.”

  “That’s great,” Gia said. “We have to wait until they blow us up, then we can fight back?”

  “You got it. We’re a civilian force here at the invitation of the Pakistan government. We have the right to defend ourselves, but not the right to attack others.”

  Jessie watched the technicals drive up and surround the cave entrance.

  “Let’s see what they want,” Jay said.

  Gia trained her M4 on the lead truck. She watched a man carrying an AK-47 step out of the pickup. He walked up to the cave entrance.

  “We know you are in there,” the man said in English. “We are not going to harm you. Please step out of the cave so I can look you in the eyes.”

  Gia scanned the trucks through her rifle scope. None of the fighters had their weapons trained on the cave entrance.

  “I’m going out to see what he wants,” Gia said. “CJ, if anyone lifts their rifle, shoot them.”

  “Don’t go out,” Karen said. “They’ll kill you.”

  “No, I don’t think they will.” Gia handed her rifle to Karen.

  Jay watched the technicals. He needed a plan of action if Gia’s negotiations failed.

  “CJ, target the leader,” Jay commanded.

  “Roger,” CJ responded. “I have a clear shot.”

  “Michelle, target the trucks closest to the cave.”

  “Got it,” Michelle responded.

  “Let’s hope this doesn’t turn into a firefight,” Jay said. “Everybody, keep your safeties on until I say so. We don’t need anyone jumping the gun.”

  Karen watched the lead terrorist through the scope of Gia’s rifle. The man was tall, about six foot three, and wore an all-black keftu and head wrap covering his face. But she could see his eyes. They were black as coal. He pointed the rifle at Gia as he approached.

  Gia walked up to the lead terrorist. She stopped five feet away from him and raised her hands over her head, “I’m not armed,” she said.

  “I know,” the man said. “But your security team is. Tell them to drop their rifles. Especially your sniper on the mountain. I have men watching.”

  “Jay, can you hear what he said?” Gia said into her headset.

  “Yes, we’re standing down. Everybody confirm that you’ve dropped your weapons. CJ?”

  “Affirmative,” CJ said.

  Jay thought about his options. First, he had to know who he was dealing with. Was it random, or did they have a plan?

  “Gia, try to get him to remove his face mask. I want to identify him.”

  “We do not want to harm you,” the man said. “We want to know what you are doing here?”

  “I will tell you,” Gia said. “But remove your face covering. I want to see who I am talking with.”

  The man hesitated. Gia knew Muslim men didn’t believe in taking orders from women. She saw her demand unsettled him. He unwrapped the black scarf and dropped it on the ground.

  She thought she recognized the man. Then she remembered, and it all made sense to her.

  “Thank you,” Gia said. “What do you want?”

  “Why are you in Pakistan? Are you stealing something?”

  “That’s none of your business,” Gia said. “We’re here on official business approved by the Pakistan government.”

  “Then why did you come here at night? Why are you dressed in black uniforms and carrying weapons? You look like a military team. Or perhaps you are spies.”

  “Your men attacked the last team that came here. We are not taking any chances.”

  “They were soldiers. We thought they were here to attack us, so we defended ourselves.”

  “We are here seeking evidence. But, unfortunately, we were not successful.”

  “I don’t believe you,” the man said. “Tell your team to come out so we can search them.”

  “He knows about the gun,” Jay said. “We can’t let him take it.”

  “Karen, can you take a picture of the man’s face and upload it to our server? Quick, we need to identify him.”

  In thirty seconds, Jay was looking at the man’s face. “Kyle, run this man’s face through the FBI database so we can identify him.”

  “What are you talking about?” Kyle said. “We don’t have access to the FBI’s database.”

  “I meant to say send it to Mack at the FBI. He’ll do it.”

  “Why didn’t you say so. I’m on it.”

  * * *

  Gia turned and walked towards the cave.

  “Stop,” the man said. “Or I’ll shoot you.” He pulled a handgun out of his belt and pointed it at Gia’s head. She kept walking.

  “I said stop!”

  Gia stopped at the cave entrance, then turned and faced the man. She held her hand behind her back and opened her palm.

  Karen knew what she wanted. She placed the evidence bag in Gia’s hand.

  “Is this what you want?” Gia said, holding the bag up in front of her face. “You can’t have it.” Gia ducked back towards the cave. A gunshot rang out. Gia screamed as a bullet punctured her lower leg. Falling to the ground, she pulled herself into the cave on all fours.

  The man followed her into the cave. “Give me the gun,” the man said. “Now, or you all will die.”

  “It’s right here,” Gia said in short gasps. “Come and get it.”

  The man walked up to Gia, pointing his gun at her face. “Hand me the gun!”

  Gia held the bag with the gun in it and extended her hand.

  “No!” Karen said. “Don’t give it to him!”

  The man turned and swung the gun towards Karen. “Be quiet, or you’ll die first.”

  Karen stood her ground. She stared at the terrorist with a look of defiance.

  Gia slammed her injured right leg into the man’s groin. Then, with
her other leg, she kicked him in the side of the head. The man dropped his gun, writhing in pain.

  Gia tried to stand up, but she couldn’t put any weight on her wounded leg.

  The man straightened up. He pulled his second handgun from his waist belt and pointed it at Gia.

  Karen kicked him in the side of the head. The man dropped the gun. She jumped onto the man’s back and wrestled him to the ground. He tried to shake her off, but she managed to remove her handgun and smashed him in the head with the gun’s grip.

  One of the investigators ran out from the cave’s interior and grabbed the man’s arm—the other wrapped plastic ties around his wrists.

  “Somebody get me a tourniquet and a shot of morphine,” Gia said. “Let’s get out of here.”

  “We can’t,” CJ said in her headset. “Two of the technicals drove right up to the cave entrance. One of their fighters is approaching the entrance.”

  “Is he armed?” Gia said.

  “Of course, he’s armed.”

  “That guy shot me in the leg. That satisfies the ROE.”

  * * *

  Karen heard Michelle’s Trifan hover overhead. First, she heard a single shot echo off the canyon walls. She crawled out to the cave entrance and spotted the fighter’s body lying on the ground. A large opening in the side of his head confirmed her intuition. He was dead. Then she heard a series of whooshes, and she scampered back inside. Loud explosions rocked the valley. She waited a moment, then peaked out the cave entrance. Clouds of flames and smoke engulfed the technicals. Karen froze as she saw a tall, hulking figure approach the cave entrance. The man held a large gun pointed towards the ground. Black makeup and a thick black beard covered his face.

  Karen gasped when she saw him. She crawled next to Gia, then pulled out her gun, trained it on the cave entrance waiting to shoot the intruder as soon as he entered the cave. Sweat poured down her forehead as she held the gun with both hands.

  “It’s okay,” Gia said as she placed her hand on Karen’s arm, forcing her to lower her gun. “You can relax. It’s CJ. He’s on our side.”

  “Oh my God, you scared me,” Karen said as CJ entered the cave. “I’m happy to see you.”

  “We’re ready to evacuate,” CJ said. “I’ll carry Gia out. But we need to hurry since there may be reinforcements on the way.”

  CJ leaned over and picked up Gia. He cradled her body in his arms and squeezed out of the narrow cave entrance.

  Chapter 38

  Bahrain Commercial District

  The area around NSA Bahrain has evolved since Jay’s last visit. The seedy, rundown neighborhood in Manama now housed gleaming skyscrapers. He looked at the address on his text from Bonner. It said 50 Financial Harbor Tower. He compared the address to his GPS and realized the building was on the island’s north side. After driving in bumper-to-bumper traffic, Jay found the building. The colossal skyscraper towered above the Bahrain skyline.

  Everything about the building was shiny, from the floors to the marble front desk. Antonio and Jay rode the elevator to the 50th floor, stepping into a stark but stunning lobby. The view from the floor-to-ceiling windows took Jay’s breath away. Unfortunately, it also caused a bit of angina from the dizzying heights. An attractive receptionist offered the two guests a seat. Before they could sit, Steve Bonner walked into the reception area.

  Bonner, a slim, tall man with graying hair, greeted Jay with a big grin and a handshake, “Jay, it’s great to see you again. How are you feeling?”

  “I’m feeling great. Recovery is coming along smoothly.”

  “I have a full slate of interviews for you, and your first candidate is already in the conference room. Please follow me.”

  They entered a large room filled with a solid mahogany conference table with ten chairs. A slim, hawk-nosed man sat in the last chair, his back to the door.

  “Jay, Antonio, I’d like to introduce you to Francois Benoit, our first candidate.”

  The slim man turned, stood up, and snapped to attention. He looked like he wanted to salute, but caught himself, then stuck out his hand to shake. Antonio and Jay shook his hand, and all three men sat down.

  “Let Anna, the receptionist, know if you need anything,” Steve said, closing the door. “She’ll call me when you’re done.”

  “Mr. Benoit, you have an impressive resume,” Antonio said. “Please tell me in your own words about your work experience?”

  “Very well. I am Adjudant-Chief Francois Benoit. For the last 25 years, I fought with the French Foreign Legion. For the last ten of those years, I was a member of the 13th Demi-Brigade stationed in Djibouti, Africa. I was on the hostage rescue team who recovered the schoolgirls kidnapped by the Boko Haram terrorists.”

  “What was your role?” Jay asked.

  “I was a platoon leader and cavalry specialist.”

  “Besides the hostage rescue team, did you see combat action?”

  “Oh yes. I fought in the Gulf War in Iraq, the Gulf of Aden, and Africa. I received the French Medal of Valor for saving my platoon leader’s life in Mosul, Iraq.”

  “Impressive,” Jay said. “Why did you leave the Foreign Legion?”

  “My unit returned to France, but I did not want to return to civilian life. I have no family besides what you say, my comrades in arms. I am proud to be a soldier.”

  “Very good,” Antonio said. “Thank you for your time. We will contact you shortly with our decision.”

  “Excellent,” Benoit said. He stood up, executed a perfect turn, and marched out of the conference room.

  After several minutes, Steve Bonner entered the room. He led a blond-haired man about six feet tall. In excellent physical condition, Jay could tell he was a real operator.

  “Our next candidate is Abraham Moses Pugatsky. He’s a former Lithuanian special operations platoon leader.”

  “Hello,” Pugatsky said. “I am pleasured to meet you. Please pardon my poor English. I started only to learn last year.”

  “Don’t worry about your English,” Antonio said. “We’re not hiring linguists.”

  The man stared at Antonio with a blank look on his face.

  “Okay, do your best to tell us about your military experience.”

  “I join Lithuanian Army in 2002. That is year they formed SOP. My job is in advanced warfare and counter-terror unit. I fought in Afghanistan with NATO and with hostage rescue in my home country.”

  “Did you receive any awards or distinctions?” Jay asked.

  “I got medal for being injured in combat. But best, I obtained Zaliukas, the highest qualification in SOP.”

  “Any special skills?” Antonio said.

  “I am a sniper. I attended the U.S. Marine Sniper school. Learned from Sergeant Bonner. My team won the competition the year I attended in 2015.”

  “That’s two years after I won the competition,” Jay said. “Congratulations. It’s tough to do.”

  “Thank you. I heard a lot of good things about Maravista Security. I like to work with you. You work with honor.”

  “We are very interested in working with you,” Antonio said. “We have a few more interviews and will contact you.”

  Antonio and Jay interviewed several more candidates then took a break to eat. After lunch, Steve joined them in the conference room.

  “We have one last candidate. You’ll be impressed.” Steve opened the door, and a petite, brunette woman walked in. She wore a tailored, black suit, more fitting for a New York lawyer than a special operations soldier. Black-rimmed oversized glasses framed her dark-brown eyes. Something about her looked familiar, but Jay couldn’t place her face.

  “May I introduce Renee Cohen, our final candidate.”

  “Nice to meet you, Ms. Cohen,” Jay said as he shook her hand. “Please have a seat and tell me about your work history and why you want to work for Maravista Security?”

  “Mr. Bonner and Mr. Borracci,” Cohen said. “Would you mind leaving the conference room for a few minutes? I need to talk
with Mr. Mendes in private.”

  “There’s no need to,” Jay said. “They have the right to hear your answers to my question.”

  “That’s okay,” Bonner said. “We’ll give you a few minutes with Ms. Cohen.”

  Jay watched Bonner, and Antonio leave the room then said, “Please begin.”

  “My name is Renee Cohen. I am Israeli. I completed my mandatory military service and attended university in Tel Aviv. I majored in psychology and criminal justice. When Hezbollah fired missiles into Israel, the Army activated my reserve unit. We fought in the 30-day war. The fighting was bloody, and I lost many good friends. After the war, I graduated and joined Mossad, the Israeli Intelligence Agency. I worked with the CIA and Jordanian intelligence. As part of my job, I monitored Iranian intelligence activities in the Middle East. They kept me very busy, and I infiltrated an Iranian intelligence unit, securing a vital asset. This asset told me about an operation in Bahrain. They were organizing demonstrations to protest the U.S. Navy base. The demonstrations were effective until the leader of the Iranian unit disappeared. Then, the demonstrations suddenly collapsed.”

  “Thank you for sharing this information, but why are you telling me this?”

  “The information I’m about to tell you is for your ears only. If you tell anyone, I’ll be forced to kill you. Do you understand?”

  “I do, but I’m not sure why.”

  “Mr. Mendes, you killed the Iranian agent.”

  “I did what?”

  Chapter 39

  Eighteen months earlier - NSA Bahrain

  Jay watched as two young female sailors walked out the front gate of the naval base. One was a slim, African-American woman, and the other was a petite white woman with long, dark hair. They wore blouses and khaki pants, nothing provocative. Several of the Muslim women stood in front of them, blocking their way. Jay thought he heard the words Jew and nigger mixed in with Arabic. This was not good. He stepped off the curb toward the crowd.

  Bonner asked, “Mendes, where are you going?”

  “To help them. Are you coming?”

  Jay pushed his way through the crowd, ignoring the angry stares and taunts. He understood Arabic, listening to their hate-filled remarks. Someone pushed Jay, and Jay pushed back. He reached the two women who seemed to be standing their ground.