Coda? (Mercenaries Book 4)

by Tony Lavely

  But Chelsie acted like this would be a bigger deal. “I understand the history,” Beckie said. “You set up your tame terrorists so they can go about thinking they can change the world, and you’ve been able to keep them from obtaining the one thing they need to succeed. What’s happened this time? Or what are you afraid might happen?”

  Beckie knew, suddenly, and she felt all the blood rush from her face, her head. She swayed in her chair. Before anyone could move to help her, she gulped air and pushed back. “The fucking Carl Vinson. She’s leaving port… next Monday, right? What have you people allowed?”

  Neither Chelsie nor the man appeared pleased by Beckie’s exclamation. Before they spoke, however, she said, “Don’t act so surprised. It’s our job to put things together. What’s in that case that it wants to meet the Vinson?”

  The rest of the story was quick, indeed. Beckie suspected she’d have to threaten Solène with taking her iPods away to keep her silent. The good guys—Beckie put the good in big quotes—had arranged for a terrorist cell in Somalia or Afghanistan, Chelsie wasn’t explicit since it didn’t matter, one of those places, to acquire a ‘redundant’ nuke. One from old Soviet Union artillery stores. One that was triggered in its natural state by travel above 1400 meters, about 4600 feet, and then back down once it’d been fired.

  The man laid down a chart of San Diego harbor, and pointed out what was obvious as soon as you looked. Setting the nuke off at the point where the channel was narrowest would not only hole the carrier, but destroy a large portion of the city and blockade the harbor for years.

  They were confident, Chelsie said, that the weapon was defective. She was so confident that Beckie was certain she had no idea if it was inoperable, and no way to verify, now the plan was in motion.

  Questions bubbled up in Beckie’s mind, like, why did they select an old nuke? Why didn’t they change the Vinson’s sailing date? Why don’t they stop the shell on the way?

  This last one, she voiced. It was, Chelsie said, the only way to arrest the leaders of the cell in the US. They were to be in San Diego for the grande finale, so to speak, and it was the way the other arrests had been made: wait until the bad guy tried to use the device before making the arrest. Better for the trial.

  And for the publicity, I’ll bet. “Another time, we can have a drink and talk about grooming young men who want to change the world for a crime before they’re actually criminals. Encouraging them to take up life of crime. Leading them astray, as they used to say. For now, tell me about this job. It seems to me that you’re using us, a Bahamian entity, to give yourselves what has been called plausible deniability.”

  The woman nodded, but made no other acknowledgment of Beckie’s charge. “We set the trip up to make it appear that conveying the package would be simple. The details, buried in the contract, make it impossible to achieve the schedule. The cell saw the penalty clauses and the simplicity of the job. We… led them away from the nitty details… like allowing them to examine a topographic map of the US. They were convinced.

  “As much as they were convinced, your husband was not. He flatly refused the initial contract. He relented once we offered to make him good for the failed contract fee and the penalty.”

  “Hmm. I’m not sure that’s now sufficient. Ian could have easily rebuilt the trust failing here would have cost us. Since he’s… not with us, now, I will have a larger problem with it. I will consider that. Without going into details I probably don’t need, it appeared that we will deliver to the area of Mission Bay High School before eight Monday morning. Your buddies are going to notice. Since you planned all along that the ‘present’ wouldn’t be there, how were you planning to arrest them with it?”

  Chelsie sighed, leaned back and rubbed her knuckles in her eyes. “The key question, isn’t it?”

  Beckie waited.

  “There were two possibilities. There are two possibilities. First is that they’d use their ship, an old tramp cargo vessel of about 16 000 tonnes, to try and block the channel without the weapon. We believe the Navy is well suited to handle that. They could wait for the weapon to arrive and either attempt to close the harbor by detonating it, or they could chase the Vinson and attempt to sink or damage her with a close-by explosion at sea.”

  Beckie guessed her disbelief showed: Chelsie shook her head and said, “In the powerboat. Of course, the cargo ship wouldn’t match the Vinson’s speed. The size of the powerboat would make defending harder, especially if they haven’t got their aircraft aboard.”

  “Huh?”

  “Carrier air groups don’t remain on the ship in port. Before she arrives, the wings fly to a near-by Naval Air Station and stay while the ship is in. Then, when she leaves, they fly out and land aboard.”

  “Hmm. Okay, I guess. I wouldn’t think the Navy’d much care about taking guys like that back for trial.”

  “We are trying to influence them…”

  “For my money… Where’d you say the cell was from?”

  “I didn’t.”

  “If it’s the typical disaffected Muslim cell you’ve taken advantage of, my money’s on them first shooting up my team with everything they have, and second chasing the Vinson with everything they have. Including, depending if they understand how the detonator’s supposed to work, a light plane. And you must know,” Beckie said. “that I’m not gonna allow my people to walk into a situation like that. Ian never would have either. What were you planning to mitigate that risk?”

  “As fond of your husband as we were, he didn’t share many of his plans. But I agree; he told me he would take care of that problem, since it affected him and his people.” She looked at Beckie with eyebrows raised. “He said nothing?”

  “He said nothing.” Beckie sat back and allowed her head to loll back. This shit’s important, Ian. Why’d you say nothing? Not just to me, but anyone? She pushed the hurt she wanted to feel about being left out away and focused on the second half of that thought. I put Sue and Rich on the job, Ian didn’t. Soooo… Who was he planning to have run this? Not Willie; he’s been slowing down. Not Dan. Sam said nothing… but we didn’t talk about it either. Who else? Freddie? She considered him. He’d been in a long term contract in Southeast Asia, and she still planned to visit him after the baby was born. But we’re not ready to disengage there. Yeah, but this’d be only a week or so…

  Who else? Barbara? She’d been nearby on Ian’s last job, in Riyadh, so maybe they talked. Good; she’ll be here tonight.

  She reached for her pony tail and brought it around front as she rolled her head to a more normal position. Chelsie was watching her; a somewhat disturbed expression wrinkling her brow and around her eyes. “Are you… okay?” she said.

  “Yes. Certainly. Sorry for spacing out on you. Could I have a few minutes?” She checked the time. “I’d ask you not to monitor me, but that’d be a fool’s errand. So remember, right now I have your balls in my hand, so to speak.” She made a gesture as if to squeeze something in her fist.

  Chelsie grinned but Beckie saw nothing but black humor in it. “I can’t turn off the equipment, you’re right. But I can prevent action being taken as a result of anything you might say… or hear.”

  Nice reminder that they are intercepting the phone call too. She dug in her purse again, this time for the sat phone. Chelsie and helper went through the door, to curl up around a monitor somewhere, Beckie was sure.

  Sam’ll still be awake. Freddie… it’s like oh-dark thirty where he is; I’ll call him later. If Sam has no data.

  “I think the water’s safe, if you’re thirsty?”

  “I’m okay. Are… are we going to be all right?”

  Beckie spun on the chair to stare at Solène for the first time since the girl had entered. She was pale, and while she wasn’t crying at present, tears had run down her cheeks not too long ago. Her hands looked like they were fighting as they writhed, clasping and unclasping each other. “Yeah, Solène, we’ll be fine. Com’ere.” They both stood and Beckie hugg
ed the teenager for several long moments, until she stopped shaking. Before they broke the embrace, Beckie attempted to restore a little normalcy to Solène’s life; she said, “I’ve asked Kerry Byrne to spend her time with you, making sure you’re safe. Would have started today, except for the doctor’s appointment.”

  “I told you I didn’t need to come,” Solène said. The attempted joke behind the mock protest seemed obvious; Beckie giggled loudly enough that Solène could hear. “But thank you for bringing me.” She took a deep breath. “Is this what Da does? In Syria?”

  “No. I’m pretty sure your father has people to do this kind of work for him. He takes the results and decides what to do.”

  “I don’t know if that makes me feel better or worse.”

  “Remember that I don’t know much about what happens on the ground there.”

  “I know. But you got me out…”

  “I did, yeah.” Beckie smiled at the small victories she had managed to eke out. “Okay, are you feeling a little better, now?”

  Solène pulled back to gaze into Beckie’s eye, pulled her in for a tight squeeze and released her. “I am. Now I get why Amy calls you ‘Mom.’ And you’re going to be, too.”

  “Yeah. Very few people know, and none of them will talk. Do you understand me? I’ll have you chopped into shark chum if anyone finds out before I’m showing so much everyone knows. Specifically, I’m going on this job and I don’t want to hear from anyone that I’m too delicate or whatever. Got it?” She waited until Solène agreed. “Good. Now sit and don’t pay attention.”

  “Like I’ve been doing so far? Okay,” she said with a laugh.

  Back in her chair, Beckie scrolled to Sam’s number and pressed Send.

  “Hello, Ms Beckie,” Sam’s jovial voice belted out of the speaker. “What can I help you with tonight? Or is it not night where you are?”

  “Not yet, Sam. I have a question for you. Did Ian ever discuss an escort slash protection job with you? One that would be coming together about now?”

  In the silence, Beckie could hear what sounded like small arms fire. “Tell me you’re not in a firefight right now!”

  His laugh was deafening. “No, not at all. We’re getting in some practice, sighting in some… liberated weapons. Yeah. No hostiles nearby. Well, within two klicks, anyway. Now, your question.” She heard his sigh. “Maybe. Yes, we talked about an escort job. I’ve forgotten any timeframe associated with it, but we were supposed to take a package from… Newark, I think, in New Jersey, to California. San Diego maybe. That sound like the one?”

  “The very one. This line’s not secure, so, with no details, did you guys work it out?”

  “Not really. Ian talked to Freddie after, and I think they came up with something.”

  “Cool! At least he talked to someone! Can—”

  “He didn’t go over it with you? How come?”

  “No, and no idea. Can you pick two of your team and come back? Should I send a plane for you?”

  “If you want us back within a week, yes. I’ll bring Ben… Are you hung up on two? I’d pick Stacy and the Chief, but Jimmy’d be okay, too. Or Gillian.”

  As Beckie contemplated those, Solène whispered, “Gillian was really nice…”

  Gillian. Half a foot taller than me. Fifty pounds heavier. But not fat! Quiet. “Sam, you’re the boss, but I was thinking Jimmy’d make good second while you’re here. And two couples might play well…”

  He laughed again, though not as loudly. “That’s more than your two, Ms Jamse. But… do you want them as couples?”

  “Not necessarily. Is that a problem?” She wondered, Stacy and the Chief? No, they spend all their time together anyway. So—

  “No, it won’t be. So, Stacy and the Chief, and Ben and Gillian. Sound good?”

  “Yeah. We’ll talk when you arrive. Thanks.”

  She tapped the phone, then scrolled again. “Willie, hi. We need to talk when I get back, but I’ll call when we’re in the air to set that up. Right now, can you check with Jannike and see who’s good to fly to Turkey as soon as the plane’s prepped. They’ll pick up Sam and four of his team.”

  “Sounds good. You will tell me why, right?”

  She laughed. “Yes, Willie. If I were to guess, in an hour or so. Talk to you then.” She tapped the phone. “Okay, Chelsie, com’on back.”

  In a couple of minutes, Chelsie knocked once, then opened the door and entered, her helper following.

  “Have you come to a decision?”

  “Yeah,” Beckie said. “I won’t do anything that will jeopardize your mission as long as doing so won’t put my team at risk. We will follow the route you intended, arriving between seven and nine Monday morning. My team will be capable of protecting themselves.

  “As long as they are protecting themselves or your mission, I want full immunity for them. I will provide the transportation, and it will only cost you another… two hundred thousand euros. I will refund the client’s fee as soon as the deadline passes, including the penalty, so make sure you’ve deposited the full amount before then.” She stood and ambled to the window overlooking in the distance, South Bay. She could just see the coast begin the sweep back to the west.

  “If you don’t agree, or renege, or the money isn’t in my account before the deadline… Well, if you don’t agree now, I’ll just pull out. Once we’ve picked up the package, if you default in any way, the package will disappear. I’ll make sure of two things: The weapon won’t be used. You won’t enjoy the publicity.” She returned to her seat. “Any questions or misgivings?”

  “No. I agree.”

  “Read back everything to which you agree.”

  In ten minutes, Beckie had concluded that whoever Chelsie worked for needed Beckie more than she needed them. At the bottom of the elevator, the car was waiting, and the driver took them both to the airport at Fort Lauderdale.

  “No packages, Mrs. Jamse?” the bright co-pilot greeted them.

  “Not this time, James. Business interfered.”

  She laughed at the dismayed face he pulled before showing them to seats and offering a choice of drinks.

  The ninety minutes in the air Beckie spent on the phone while Solène curled up across the seat, her head in Beckie’s lap, sleeping. By the time the plane touched down, Beckie’d warned Boynton of the planned arrivals, and Willie would have a meeting set up with Barbara when her plane landed.

  Patrice had left already in the 737-700ER; he expected the round trip to take thirty hours. Jean-Luc was dead-heading to Paris; he’d fly the leg to Turkey and back; Patrice would bring them back from Paris.

  “Thirty hours…” Beckie looked at her phone and calculated. “Midnight Wednesday. That should be excellent. We’ll meet with them on Thursday while Sue and Rich leave for Newark. But we’ll begin tonight, with Barbara and Sue and Rich.”

  Kerry stood at the bottom of the stairs with Elena when the air taxi stopped at the pad. Beckie accepted Elena’s nod as assurance that Kerry would handle Solène; she sent the two off to Kerry’s place on Cottage Cay. Elena she gathered up and described the interesting parts of the trip. “I’ll hold off on the boring things; I’ll have to tell them to Sue and Rich, and Willie, then again when I talk to Freddie, and again when Sam and his guys get here tomorrow… No, Thursday that is.”

  “You want me on this?”

  “I’m not sure. Let’s hold off on that decision til we talk to Freddie and to Sam. He’s bringing Stacy and the Chief, and Ben and Gillian. I want to see if Shen thinks there are any weaknesses here, too, once we piss off the client by not delivering.” She turned a wry smile on the woman. “I’m certain that the refund of the money won’t placate them one little bit.”

  Elena agreed with a laugh as Beckie handed her passport and Solène’s to Jannike for delivery to Shen. “Gotta keep our immigration status up to date,” she joked to Elena.

  “Damn right,” Jannike said as she took the documents. “Keeps us free to handle it ourselves instead of h
aving to enter through Nassau every time. Or Grand Bahamas. We don’t want that!”

  “Right you are, Janni. Thanks!”

  Beckie followed Elena to the dock. Aboard, Beckie fired the outboard while Elena called Boynton to warn Barbara.

  Fifteen minutes later Sue ushered them all in and offered coffee. Even Beckie agreed. I’ve had none all day, and I can’t call Freddie til after midnight.

  Cup in hand, she described everything that had happened after she left the doctor’s office. The thought of an old nuke meeting the Carl Vinson in San Diego Harbor eliminated the opening frivolity. Barbara confirmed that Ian had not spoken to her of any job that could be confused with this one; while anxious to help, she offered no new data.

  They agreed with the plan that Sue and Rich would pick up the case Friday morning as early as the freight forwarder would release it. A rental van had been reserved, along with two college kids as relief drivers. “No stops, if we want the client to be sure we’re doing our best,” Sue said.

  “Take the radiation detector. Make sure we’re not gonna kill anybody sitting in the truck with it, please. Before you pick up the kids. If there’s any reading, get clear and call me. We’ll take care of it from here.”

  “They won’t allow it to be off-loaded if there’s any radiation. Mandatory check, if I recall.”

  “Good! But don’t take the chance it hasn’t been dropped or damaged since that check. And get an altimeter, too, before you hit the mountains.”

  San Diego

  Discussions with Sue and the others continued until Beckie picked up her phone. With a glance at Sue, she punched Freddie’s number.

  “Mrs. Jamse, good morning. How can I help you?”

  The review went quickly—practice for Sam—but she was gratified when Freddie said, “Yes, Ian and I spoke. I advised against using any US nationals for the job, and that’s probably why he hadn’t gotten to discussing it with you. Before you ask, he wasn’t sure he could get immunity, so that was a way around it.”