(2012) Political Suicide

by Michael Palmer

  “You’re the best. If it makes you feel any better, I’m nervous, too.”

  Cap ruminated a moment. “Nah,” he said. “That doesn’t make me feel better at all.” Then he smacked Lou playfully on the arm.

  “Well,” Lou said. “I’ve added a little contingency plan of my own just in case things come unglued.”

  Cap hugged himself and shivered off a chill.

  Lou was about to explain when they heard the rumble of an approaching engine. The headlights of an olive-green military truck appeared from beyond a hilly rise a quarter mile away. The canvas tarp covering the back of the lumbering vehicle shook and ruffled in the steady breeze. A minute later, it groaned to a stop.

  Papa Steve, wearing a fur-lined parka, hopped down from the cab. He had the grin of a charter boat skipper ready to depart for a tuna-fishing expedition. “Hiya, Cap,” he said, taking Cap’s hand in both of his. “It’s a real pleasure and an honor. I was a big fan of yours back in the day.”

  “Thanks for the props. Any friend of the doc’s is a friend of mine.”

  “Before we get started, I know I cut you short of time. You need any tools?”

  “Brought my own. I practiced breaking into our motel room last night.”

  “I’ve been up close and personal with Brody’s system, Cap. I can promise you, whatever his locks are, they ain’t no motel.”

  “I can only do what I can do, brother.”

  “I think he’s a keeper, Doc.”

  “What happened?” Lou asked. “This wasn’t supposed to go down so fast.”

  “That’s life in the military, son,” Papa Steve said. “When we talk about tomorrow, God laughs. Brody’s presented us with a situation too good to ignore.”

  “Tell us.”

  “Can’t we talk while we’re driving?” Cap asked. “You must have some heat in the cab of that khaki junker.”

  “Actually, you boys won’t be riding in the cab. You’ll be under the chassis like a couple of Mexican border sneaks.” Papa Steve knelt and pointed to a steel platform he had rigged to the undercarriage. “I’ve got a way to conceal the sides, but you’ve got to climb on board the platform before I can secure it in place.”

  “You want us to ride underneath this truck for twenty miles?” Lou said.

  “Um, the truth is, you’re going to be under the truck for a wee bit longer than that.”

  “How long?” Cap asked. “I have trouble with tight spaces. I can do them, but I don’t like them much.”

  “Until evening.”

  “That’s hours from now!” Lou exclaimed.

  “When I said a wee bit, I really meant a lot. Hope you both took my advice and dressed real warm. I brought helmets and the oxygen masks our parachute jumpers wear. Those will help you breathe on the drive over.”

  “Can’t we just ride in the back?” Cap asked.

  Papa Steve shook his head. “The cargo in back is going to get inspected before I can drive onto the base. It’s too risky to hide back there. And I don’t want anyone seeing you guys going from the back of the truck onto my platform anywhere close to Hayes. There are eyes all over the place right now.”

  “What are you hauling?” Cap asked.

  “Fireworks. Lots and lots of fireworks. Brody’s asked me to rig up a big-time Fourth of July–type show. That’s part of the reason I changed the plan. Only he’s gonna get more than he’s bargaining for.”

  “Talk to us,” Lou said.

  “Something is going on at Mantis. The start of a mission. Whatever it is, it must be important because Brody is going with them at least part of the way.”

  “You don’t know any more details than that?”

  “I’ve heard the words ‘Operation Talon’ bandied about for some weeks now. Brody’s been putting the guys from Mantis through a grueling series of tests. A couple of ’em even got shot. No life-threatening injuries, but they were wounded running an obstacle course we call the Big Hurt.”

  “That is a big hurt,” Cap said.

  “Brody’s been winnowing down the mission pool candidates for weeks now, looking for the best-of-the-best of Mantis. He’s got his crew selected, and he’s ready to roll. Brody asked me to run a big fireworks send-off for the men tonight. He’s done that before for various missions, but on a smaller scale than the one he wants here. There’s a trio of Chinook helicopters parked on the heliport that’s going to take them to an airfield someplace, probably for staging. Brody wants the Chinooks to fly out surrounded by the rockets’ red glare. If you ask me, the guy has seen Apocalypse Now a few too many times—but, hey, who am I to deny the man his spectacle? He’s even recorded the music and wants me to do my best to match it up with the fireworks.”

  “When do we know to break for Brody’s office?” Lou asked.

  “Wait until you hear the ‘1812 Overture.’ You know that piece?”

  “I know it,” Cap said.

  “Great. When you hear it, you’ll rush for the office, break in without setting off any alarms, and do your thing. Believe me, no one will be watching. They’re going to be having their own problems, courtesy of moi. Are you guys sure you’re up for this?”

  Lou stared at him. “The ‘1812 Overture’? Are you kidding me?” he asked.

  “What? What?”

  “This is either the best of signs or the worst of signs,” Lou said. “Get this. In college, I roomed my freshman year with a guy named Bob, who was known on campus as Dr. Strange. He was a mile or so south of eccentric in just about everything he did. He had money, plenty of it, and he owned the most incredible, expensive stereo system I had ever seen. A Bang and Olufsen.”

  “So?” Cap said.

  “So, believe it or not, he only had two albums—just two. One was Scheherazade by Rimsky-Korsakov, and the other was the ‘1812 Overture.’ Depending on his mood, he played one or the other of them all day every day. I tried to switch rooms. I tried reasoning with him. I even moved my bed from our bedroom to our living room. Nothing worked, nothing. Until one day, he paid me off.”

  “He what?”

  “I was on scholarship, and he gave me like fifteen hundred bucks to leave him alone and let him listen to his albums whenever he wanted.”

  “You took it?”

  “Of course I took it. It was only for a year. Gradually, I actually embraced the music. I not only came to not mind either piece, but sometimes when he wasn’t there, I actually played one of them myself. I know just about every note of the ‘1812,’ and exactly when various portions take place.”

  “Too much,” Papa Steve said. “Well, may the spirit of Dr. Strange be with you tonight.”

  “Amen to that,” Cap said. “Believe it or not, for years, when I’m working out, I usually do it to the theme from Rocky. But sometimes—”

  “Don’t tell me, the ‘1812 Overture.’”

  “You got it, Pops.”

  “Okay, then. Doc, you ready to lock and load?”

  “Not just yet,” Lou said.

  “What’s the delay? I’m due back on the base in an hour.”

  “My contingency plan isn’t here yet.”

  Papa Steve glared at him. “Contingency plan? What the—?”

  At that instant, a state police car, headlights on, appeared in the distance and sped toward them. It stopped just behind the truck.

  “Let me do the talking,” Papa Steve said.

  “Not to worry,” Lou said. “I’ve got this one.”

  Judy Lemon, looking fit and fine in her state trooper uniform, approached with a swaggering sway of her hips that caught the attention of both Cap and Papa Steve. She came right up to Lou and took off her mirrored sunglasses. “I should arrest you for obstructing my steak dinner,” she said, scolding him with a wag of her finger.

  “Doctor’s honor I’m going to take you out for that,” Lou said, holding up his hand as a sworn promise.

  “Honor isn’t something I’m looking for from you, Doc,” Lemon said.

  Lou swallowed hard a
t her come-hither smile. “Guys, this is Officer Judy Lemon, a-k-a our backup.”

  Papa Steve flashed Lou an angry look. “I didn’t say anything about needing a contingency plan! Lou, what have you told her?”

  “Not much,” Lou said. “Just, well—”

  “Don’t worry,” Lemon said. “I’ve looked the other way for worse things than sneaking onto a military base and stealing a gun.”

  “Good to know,” Papa Steve said insincerely.

  “Besides, Brody’s been sticking it to the Staties so long now that I’d love to stick it right back at him. We’ve pulled over more DUIs from Mantis than could fit in the state barracks, but have any ever gone to trial or even lost their license? I don’t know who Brody has bribed or blackmailed, but I’m more than happy to bend the rules to get the bad guys.”

  Papa Steve did not appear at all satisfied. “Lou, this isn’t some little snatch-and-grab job. There are a lot of big boys on that base with a lot of big guns. I don’t see how the police are going to help out here. No offense.”

  “None taken, sweetheart,” Lemon said. “And if Lou here doesn’t want to take me out for dinner, you might do just fine as his replacement. In the meantime, Lou has a way of getting in touch with me and I have a way of getting you some help if those big boys with big guns develop itchy trigger fingers.”

  “Not that I don’t trust this plan of yours, Papa Steve,” Lou said, “but I’ve got a kid who needs a father.”

  Papa Steve set his hands on his hips. He had the look of a man ready to call the whole thing off. Instead, he fixed Lou with a pointed stare. “Okay, so that’s it,” Papa Steve said. “We’ve got backup. Lou makes the call when we need it, which we won’t.”

  “Glad you see it my way,” Lou said.

  “I didn’t say I saw it your way. Now, gear up. It’s going to be cold riding under that truck.”

  “I’ll be as close to the base as I can get without attracting too much attention,” Lemon said.

  Lou and Cap donned the helmets, masks, and portable oxygen supply, climbed under the truck, and shimmied their way to the center of the cold steel platform. Lying on their stomachs, heads on wafer-thin pillows, the pair had room to squirm, but precious little beyond that.

  Papa Steve secured the metal sides of the platform to hooks he had welded to the truck’s chassis, and the steel cocoon was closed. Moments later, the cruiser drove off. Then the engine rumbled, and the cantankerous truck lurched forward.

  Next stop, Mantis.

  CHAPTER 41

  Lou could not say how long he and Cap rode inside the box. While they were locked in total darkness, time slowly lost all meaning. Fifteen minutes? Fifty? All he knew was the vehicle had come to an abrupt stop and did not move for some time. They had to be at the Mantis base guardhouse.

  The ride to Hayes from Dudley was a violent voyage that had jostled Lou and Cap against each other like passengers on a wooden roller coaster. Lou’s limbs were stiff, and every pressure point was screaming. Twice, his foot cramped up, but without room to maneuver, he had to grit his teeth through the pain. As long as they were moving, he could cry out, but now that they were still, he could only bite at his lip and wait. His fingers and toes felt brittle and numb from the cold. Vibrations from the idling engine were like electric shocks.

  Most of Lou’s thoughts, though, were with his boxing coach and AA sponsor, the gentle battering ram of a man huddled next to him. It was a lot to say Cap had saved his life, but it was by no means exaggeration. Now Lou found himself wishing that he had never thought to bring him along. He shifted his body closer to Cap’s and could feel him shivering.

  “You okay?” Lou whispered, nudging his own gas mask aside.

  “Been better, been worse,” Cap said.

  “Sorry for roping you into this, pal.”

  “Don’t be. I make my own choices.”

  They heard footsteps crunching on the hard, packed ground outside. Lou worked his body over to the side of the platform, hoping to catch any snippets of conversation.

  Sure enough, he heard Papa Steve’s commanding voice engage with some of the Mantis guards. “Howdy and a fine afternoon to you, good gentlemen.”

  “We’re checking IDs today, Papa Steve. CO’s orders.”

  “The Brody asks, the Brody gets. Here you go, Chuckie.”

  “What’s in the truck?”

  “Fireworks for the big show tonight.”

  “We gotta search the back.”

  “Oooh, Paranoid City. Just make it quick. I got the Mantis version of the Big Bang to set up.”

  “Can’t wait.”

  Lou held his breath. From what he could hear, at least two men had climbed inches above where he and Cap lay, and were conducting a thorough search of the cargo. It sounded as if some cases were even opened.

  Paranoid City was right.

  “You’re all set, Papa Steve,” one of guards called out.

  The truck bucked as it was slipped into gear. Lou groaned and worked his legs, pleading with his muscles to stay forgiving for just a little while longer. Minutes later, they stopped once again. The driver’s-side door opened, then slammed closed. The back panel was lowered.

  “This may be it,” Lou whispered.

  “Next time I complain that a workout is too hard, remind me of this trip.”

  “Same here, big guy.”

  From just outside where they were lying, they heard Papa Steve whisper harshly. “Lou, Cap, you boys all right down there? Knock on the side. Once for yes, twice for no. It’s safe.”

  Lou banged once against the side, and battled back the urge to add a few extras.

  “Good. Now, you just hang tight. A couple more hours is all. The show will feature some short speeches blasting from some pretty intense speakers, followed by a couple of marches accompanied by fireworks. The ‘1812 Overture’ will be last, Howitzers and all, with more fireworks than you can shake a stick at, mixed in with enough of the real deal to get some serious attention. Soon as you hear the ‘1812 music, head for Brody’s office. By the time things begin to blow up, you better be back at the truck. I unhooked the back, so you can push yourselves out. But listen close. Timing here is critical. If things go right, we’ll be able to drive right off the base without too much trouble. Knock once if you’ve got all that.”

  Lou knocked.

  “Hang tough, boys.”

  Lou felt a gentle tap on his leg.

  “How else are we supposed to hang?” Cap whispered.

  Lou guessed ten minutes had passed when they heard footsteps approaching. Then a voice.

  “Hey, there, Papa Steve, how’s it going?”

  Brody!

  “Getting ready to be offloaded,” Papa Steve said. “I think you’ll be happy with my selection, Colonel.”

  “Will this be enough to make it a spectacle?”

  “I’ve got boxes of aerial repeaters, shells, rockets, Thor missiles, display tubes. It’ll be a spectacle, all right.”

  “Good,” Brody said. “These men are going on a very dangerous mission. They deserve a fitting send-off.”

  More footsteps.

  “Papa Steve.”

  “Major Coon.”

  Lou did not recognize the new voice.

  “Ready for the big send-off?”

  “I have my crew ready to empty this truck and place everything on the firing platform. Then I’ll hook it all up and ka-boom. Fourth of July in December. How about the howitzer gunners, Major. Are they all set?”

  “Champing at the bit,” Coon said. “Excuse me, Commander, but I wonder if I could have a word with you.”

  “Papa Steve,” Brody said, “why don’t you give us five minutes, then bring your men to help you unload these boxes.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Footsteps, probably Papa Steve leaving, followed by a minute of silence.

  “Okay,” Brody said finally, “what is it, Charlie?”

  “I wanted to let you know that I’ve decided to handle the
notification to the families myself.”

  “All of them?”

  “I think it’s better that way, sir.”

  “I’ll probably go with you to some of them. What’s the final story?”

  “Just as we discussed. Helicopter crash after the assassinations were completed and the men had reassembled for the trip home. It’s the most believable way for twenty soldiers to be killed at once.”

  “Makes sense,” Lou heard Brody say. “This is a major milestone in the evolution of the new war, Charlie. It’s been too long that we haven’t been fighting on a level playing field. Our technology has proved only that we have more money, not more resolve. But all that is going change with Operation Talon. Terrorists everywhere will soon be aware that Americans are willing and ready to replicate every tactic used against us, including those that involve a life for a life.”

  “You’ve done a good thing here, sir. In time, this will put an end to terrorism and change the course of the war. And most important, it will alter how our resolve is perceived. These parasites will learn not only to respect us, but more important, to fear us. I just left the men. They’re ready, sir. I also wanted to let you know that we’ve moved the takeoff from the Langley airstrip to Dover, as you advised.”

  “Better Dover,” Brody said. “Their security is reasonable and I want as few people as possible to know anything about this.”

  “Understood and agreed.”

  “Let’s get ready, my friend.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Footsteps … Brody and Coon walking away.

  Lou’s stomach had knotted up. Combined with what he saw in the woods while following Brody, what he learned from Papa Steve, and what they heard just now, he had learned enough to put together a truly frightening scenario. Operation Talon was a mass suicide mission. Twenty soldiers, primed by Brody’s ruby drink, ready to die for their country violently and without fear. He might not know the targets or other specifics, but the intent of the mission was as evident as it was ungodly. Lying in the darkness beside his friend, Lou recalled how easily the cartel man named Pedro had slipped a partially loaded revolver into his mouth and pulled the trigger.