by T C Miller
“I’m okay,y’all…Eyes on the target.”
Jake headed up the stairs, trying his best to catch up to the rangy figure in front. He looked behind him only when he heard footsteps on the gangplank. It was the point man of TRT-2 with two other team members close behind.
Joanna met them as they stepped onto the deck. “Winfield and Thomas are heading up top…Can y’all clear this deck and the engine room?”
“Yes, ma’am.” The young agent smiled. “Be glad to help a fine southern woman any way I can.” He relayed the message to the team leader and looked up at her. “Team Leader asks if you want to retreat to the dock…since you’re wounded.”
“Like a scalded hound? No way…Agent Winfield and I’ll cover the gangplank while y’all do your sweep.”
“Suit yourself…Take care now, y’hear?” He headed for the passageway door with two others close behind.They returned a few minutes later and dropped a couple of flash-bangs down a hatch.
“Man, that’s louder than usual.” The point man glanced over at the women, “Sure y’all gonna be okay?”
“Absolutely…Go find the girl who’s being held hostage.” Nora shooed them away. “What do I have to do to get you to move…shoot you?”
“No ma’am. My wife prefers I don’t get shot on the job… especially by friendly fire. Says if anybody’s gonna shoot me… better be her.”
“I like her already…Hopefully, we’ll get to meet soon.”
“Yes, ma’am. If you’ll excuse me…”
“See you back in one piece, okay?”
“Sure hope so.” He led his team members down the ladder.
“Command to BSOG Leader, do you read?”
“Affirmative, Command, over.”
“Switch to TAC-3.” TAC-3 was an encrypted frequency
used for highly sensitive information.
“Yeah, JB, what’s going on?”
“Just talked to Benson…Said to tell you they got to the
storage locker too late…Eichner picked up the devices already…Facility manager complained about him leaving a vehicle in front of the unit.”
“That complicates things. Did the manager have more info…Like who was with him and the vehicle they left in?”
“Negative…Busy with a customer, and here’s a big surprise…video surveillance system wasn’t recording…Think they’re headed here? Maybe we could lay a trap…”
“Would’ve been my first guess…now I’m not so sure…Seem to know our next move before we do. We’re going through the trawler… Nothing’s turned up but a few fisherman on Peter’s payroll and some low-level mercenaries. They’re clueless…Told TRT-2 to secure the building and driveway…Cannery’s clear. Complex should be under control in a few minutes, over.”
“Not sure what else we can do at the moment. Damn, hate to think Eichner’s gotten away from us again…along with the Russians.”
“Sticks in my craw too but that may be the case…Only prisoners we’ve taken so far are foot-soldiers…Leadership’s vanished with the hostage and something’s not quite right about that, either…Just can’t put my finger on it…It was practically a given that Eichner, Peters, and Licia Martinez’d be here and they’re not. Why would Peters go to all the trouble of arranging an exchange and then disappear?”
“Maybe something spooked him.”
“Could be…but why take the girl? Only slow ‘em down and make ‘em easier to spot…My gut says something else’s in play…Need to figure it out.”
“I won’t be much help tied up with getting survivors on board and…”
“Damn, what kind a dummy am I? You seen Doug Martinez lately?”
“No, but didn’t expect to until the exchange…Think they got him, too?”
“Don’t know…but there may be another possibility…Kinda far-fetched though…Wouldn’t add up…least not on the surface.”
“Starting to follow you…You think he might be connected to the Russians?”
“Sure would answer a lot…Like how Greg Peters waltzed into town and got his operation set up so fast…Or how he found out about the cannery and the secret tunnel…something a long-time resident’d know. Can you have our people do a trace on Martinez…especially his finances? Never thought of him as one of the bad guys…Hell, for all we know, he could be the leader.”
“Let’s say he’s involved…Have to ask yourself what his next move would be.”
“Gotta stew on that…Off the top of my head, I see a few ways it’d play out…If he’s in charge, might could be he found out Peters was trying to take over.
“Calling in the Feds’d be a way to put a halt to that…or at least, slow it down. He sits back while they get caught. Waits for it to cool off…Then restarts the operation with a new crew. Or could be Martinez realized they were about to get shut down and the leaders are gettin’ out of Dodge…Lettin’ the hired hands take the heat.”
“What about Licia being kidnapped? That part of a power-grab, or maybe extortion?”
“Could be either one…Or just a clever way to get her out of town…Did the photos show her being carried to the vehicle?”
“No. Now that you mention it, it looked more like she was leading them. Don’t recall them doing anything more than opening doors. Think they were just giving her a ride?”
“Can’t say for sure…Can’t ignore it, either…Might be dealing with more than we thought. Stop and think about it…Why did Eicher come back to this area? Dozens of ways he could skip the country and a thousand places to hide…Why come back to a few hundred miles from where this all started?”
“See what you mean…Could be some other agenda working. Guess the next question is where we go from here. Speaking of that…Last of the survivors was just pulled up… so I need to go. At least two of them need a hospital ASAP…Heading for the Bay area.”
“Roger that. You’ll make sure the guys back at the office get started on Martinez?”
“I’ll call them on the way…Take care with the mop-up, sir.”
“Roger that…and you don’t have to call me sir…I work for you.”
“I call anybody who’s earned my respect sir…”
“Gosh, think I’m gonna blush.”
“Now it’s getting silly…Command One, over and out.”
“Roger that, Command One, catcha down the road, BSOG Leader, over and out.”
Bart called the other three over to him and they huddled in front of the cannery discussing the various options for pursuing Eichner and the smugglers. “Benson and Johansen are on their way…Should be here any minute. Meanwhile, we need to figure this thing out…Ideas?”
Nora was the first to respond, “Martinez seemed like he might be hiding something…Just couldn’t put my finger on it.”
Joanna was next. “What if it’s one big, coordinated action? We may have given everything away to them without realizing it.”
“We may need to be a little tighter with info,” Bart replied. “That means with everybody…not just perps. Feeding a little to witnesses to draw ‘em out can be useful…Just need to be careful.”
“Can’t help but wonder if I gave anything away…Feel really bad if I helped them escape.”
“Don’t worry your head about it, Baby Girl,” Nora said as she put her arm around Joanna’s shoulder. “It’ll be all right.”
“Thanks, Mama…but the Colonel’s right…Need to learn to keep my mouth shut sometimes.”
Bart sighed. “Look, y’all, I don’t want to get into Monday morning quarterbacking…Whatever happened is history. We’re all in a learning curve and should take it to heart…Beatin’ ourselves up won’t do any good…So let’s move on from here. In the meantime, let’s get back to Eichner and the Russians.”
Jake spoke up, “Think maybe I’m starting to get a handle on this. Let’s say they knew their operation was blown…then Eichner showed up. They may have figured things could really get hot so why not shut everything down and skip town? They’d have the nukes to sell, the seven h
undred million dollar ransom Eichner collected and the money they picked up from smuggling…”
“Wait…” Nora interrupted. “Who says Eichner would share the ransom or the nukes? I mean, duh, they’re criminals. Why wouldn’t they just kill Eichner…take the nukes and money and run?”
“Because they wouldn’t have the information for the numbered accounts. They’d need the names of the banks, account numbers and passwords.”
“They could torture that out of him.”
“Wouldn’t bet the farm on it…after all, he’s a trained operative. Might not have enough time to break him.”
“Besides…” Joanna added. “There’s the old thing of honor among thieves…”
“Don’t know I’ve ever seen a lot of that,” Bart interjected. “More often than not, they’ll turn on each other to shave a few months off their jail time. Now, it might could be Eichner knows them. There’s a chance we’re dealing with a clandestine terrorist group…Either an independent cell or part of a larger group.”
“That made my stomach churn,” said Nora. “Bad enough to think of a cutthroat band of smugglers…The thought of them being part of a larger group opens up a really big can of worms.”
Bart put his arm around her shoulder. “Wouldn’t get all tied up in knots, Darlin’. Like the ol’ saying goes, ‘You can eat a whole elephant…if you do it one bite at a time’. Let’s start by taking down this bunch…Then take a look at the bigger picture.”
“Sure, Boss,” Jake answered. “Just tell us how you wanna do it.”
“We’ll wait for Benson and Johansen so we can plan it as a team…For a start, we need to try and figure out the perps next move.” Bart’s radio beeped and he answered on his headset, “Come on down the driveway to the dock. We’re on the bay side of the cannery, out.” He turned back to the group. “Speak of the devil, Benson and Johansen just got here.”
The two agents joined them and Bart filled them in on what had happened. “Look, people…I won’t hide my disappointment. Thought we’d rescue Nora and Joanna, capture Eichner and the nukes and put away some smugglers…Looks like it’s not gonna be quite that simple…Anybody have a clue as to where they might be headed?”
Mary Benson finally spoke, “We’re coming into this meeting late, so maybe it’s already been covered…But I think we should start with the obvious…We thought they’d be leaving on this trawler and they’re not. That leaves the other trawler, which may be meeting them up the coast and they’ll need a dock to transfer the weapons. Coast Guard says they’ve posted lookouts at every possible landing spot for a hundred miles and the trawler’s being watched by satellite, cutter and patrol aircraft…I doubt they’re dumb enough to try that way to escape. Could be planning on flying out, but that would take a pretty good-sized aircraft.”
“Already thought of that,” Bart replied. “There’s an AWACS circling at thirty-five thousand keeping tabs on anything bigger than a kite from San Francisco to Oregon…Nothing’s popped up.”
“Good to know, sir…Just trying to cover all possibilities.”
“Appreciate that, Benson…That’s what we should aim for. Okay, we’ve eliminated two escape options…What else do we have?”
Joanna started out hesitantly, “Seems like the only two options left are to hide someplace until the heat’s off…or run like hell. Not enough manpower to search every road…Don’t even know what they’re driving. Worse than a needle-in-a-haystack thing…More like looking for a needle in a haystack-sized pile of needles.”
Bart smiled. “Good way to put it, so what’s the answer?”
“Don’t mean to interrupt…” It was Johansen this time.
“You’re on this team…Whatcha got?”
“Let’s assume for a second that they’re on the run and not hiding out…Then narrow it down to vehicles big enough to carry the bombs and all their gear…Maybe they stole a vehicle.”
“See what you mean, though I don’t see them doing that…Too easy to be stopped by local police…Still, we can’t leave any stone unturned…Give me a sec.”
Bart stepped away to talk with the San Francisco office and came back shortly. “No report of stolen vehicles in the area the past forty eight hours…”
Joanna let out a sigh of frustration. “So we just sit back and hope something turns up?”
“Not much more we can do, except go through any paperwork in the cannery and the trawler…Might be some clues.”
Shoulders sagged at the letdown that follows armed action and they started to shuffle away. They dove for cover when the sound of machine gun fire started and their radios came alive on the Tactical Frequency. “Team 1 Leader to BSOG Leader, over.”
“BSOG Leader, go.”
“Under heavy fire…Need backup, now!”
“Roger that, Leader, be there in a flash, out.” Bart recognized the unmistakable sound of a mini-gun firing off bursts of deadly 7.62mm rounds.
He turned to Jake. “Let’s go see how we can help. You two stay here and secure the building…Remember the tunnel in back leads out of it.”
Joanna and Nora nodded and said a silent prayer for the safety of the four agents. The other agents checked their gear as they ran toward the danger. Action was waiting and they were ready…
***
CHAPTER 27
OFFICE OF THE DIRECTOR, NSA WASHINGTON, DC “No, I do not know what’s going on in California and you were never to call me here…I need to initiate calls to make them harder to track. I will now terminate this call as a wrong number and contact you later.” Justin Todd hung up the phone as the Director padded silently into the office from the elevator lobby.
“Everything okay?” Justin was startled by the unexpected entrance. He was so engrossed in the telephone conversation he failed to hear the muted tone of the elevator chime. Need to tie a bell around his neck. He answered in as relaxed and smooth a voice as he could muster, “Certainly, sir, why?”
“You seemed uncharacteristically upset.”
“It was a caller who dialed the wrong number and kept insisting this must be the Treasury Department’s Help Line. I could not seem to convince him otherwise.”
The Director chuckled. “Maybe you should’ve answered his questions…Probably know more about Treasury than half of the nepotistic morons or sycophantic leeches who work there.”
Justin accepted the compliment with a smile. “Is there anything I need to follow up with from your meeting with Anderson?” Donald Anderson was Director of the DEA.
“No…at least not at this time…Seems to think we’re intruding upon an investigation they’re conducting in Seawind Bay. I assured him I would look into it…Of course I will surmise we are not. I get a little weary of DEA agents running around with itchy trigger fingers yearning to shoot somebody…anybody, for that matter.” He was also worried about information leaks in our agencies. “Let’s see, where was I? Oh, yes…I’ll be in my office catching up on reports for the next hour or two.”
“Catching up on reports” was the Director’s euphemism for nap time. He got into the habit some time ago and found that a brief respite from the pressures of the office allowed him to think better and work longer days. Some would call it a power nap, while others might think of it as a time for meditation. However it was labeled, he found it to be a way to recharge and digest everything that was happening around him—including his lunch. He closed the door and locked it.
Justin resumed typing a memo regarding reserved parking spaces near the building and waited for the Director to nod off. He would leave the building and go to an area nearby that he knew was a blind spot for NSA surveillance, which he had located by using his position as the Director’s assistant.
Nobody questioned his inquires and they knew better than to ask the Director. He also had a reserved parking spot less than fifty feet from the building—unlike the hundreds of other administrative specialists who were required to park a mile away and ride a shuttle bus to the building. It allowed him to r
un quick errands and leave no trail, since he didn’t have to swipe his card on a shuttle bus.
Once he reached the dead spot he would use the encrypted satellite phone to call his handler, whose location remained a mystery. Efforts to uncover the origin of the calls only managed to narrow the source to somewhere in the eastern half of the United States.
All attempts to identify his handler produced multiple shell corporation names that led only to post office boxes or mail drops. He was curious about his anonymous employers. Why gather information about information gathering agencies?
A quick twist of a knob on the intercom produced the soft sounds of a gentle snore. The office door was locked, which meant nobody could gain entrance unless they knew of the secret button under Justin’s desk. The addition of a Classified
Briefing in Session-Do Not Disturb sign on the door would deter anyone from knocking. Another sign on his desk read Away on Errand, Back in 30 minutes. That would allow him sufficient time to make the necessary call and return with time to spare. He grabbed his coat and umbrella, took the stairs to the main level and slipped out the exit door.
Ten minutes later, he parked on a side-street in a quiet neighborhood and dialed the number from memory. The voice on the other end was tinny and had a faint echo caused by the encryption process.
His contact spoke as if the call had not been interrupted, “Sorry I contacted you at the office, but we need to know if there might be unforeseen complications with the California project.”
Justin found it amusing that his shadowy employers referred to their operation in business terms. “Not that I can determine. The Director is conducting business as usual with no obvious alarm or concern…I assume everything went according to plan?”
“Not entirely…The inclusion of the NSA people complicated matters somewhat. Fortunately, our clients left before harm was done to them or their merchandise. They’re traveling to a refuge that will allow them to relax and recover before proceeding. The Committee is quite pleased with your participation and is depositing an appropriate amount in your reward account.”
Justin maintained a separate account in a Grand Cayman bank for that purpose. He considered it a way for them to thank him for his work and for his continued loyalty. “Please convey my gratitude. Is there anything else you require?”