It was Morrison’s turn to curse. “You mean the Mongolian military has our operative, plus two civilians, including an American citizen and a British citizen?”
Leroux nodded at the purposefully detailed question.
“And from that briefing note you just sent me, we believe that this mine was started two years ago by FirstPrime Mining, which is a massive multinational that is listed on the New York Stock Exchange, with headquarters in Seattle?”
“Yes.”
“So, what you’re saying, is a company with American legal ties is involved in a conspiracy involving the kidnapping of American citizens and its allies on foreign soil?”
Leroux smiled. “Yes.”
“That’s what I thought you said. Then I think your little op has escalated. What assets do we have in the area?”
Leroux motioned at Tong, having already anticipated the question, and a map appeared showing their subjects’ last known position and that of his proposed assets, their personnel files appearing on another part of the display. “It just so happens we have a Delta team in Korea instructing their Special Forces.”
Morrison’s head bobbed as he scanned the personnel files, everyone in the room well acquainted with Bravo Team. “Good. I’ll contact Bragg, let them know we need a team to go in. It will have to be a small one though. Mongolia is landlocked between two of our favorite countries, so we can’t insert them by sea, HALO them in, or hoof them in.”
Leroux pursed his lips. “I see only one option.”
“So do I.”
51 |
Eastern Mongolia
Jack glared at his contact, Major Khurelsukh, ignoring the weapons now pointed at him. “What the hell is this?” he asked in fluent Mongolian. “I thought we had a deal?”
“We did. I said I would fly you out here to find the Americans. I never said where I’d fly you next.”
Jack shook his head, sighing. “I think it was implied.”
“Not my problem. I have my orders.”
“And they are?”
“To watch for those two”—he jabbed a finger at the professors—“and if I come across them, to take them to a classified location.”
“And just where is that?”
Khurelsukh smiled. “It’s classified.” His smile disappeared. “I have no orders with regards to you. We’ve known each other a long time, Jack. I can leave you here. You can take their car back to Ulaanbaatar, forget this ever happened.”
Jack stared at him then at the professors. They were nothing to him beyond the mission, but unfortunately for him, the mission was everything, which meant he was about to make the wrong decision. “And if I choose to come along?”
Khurelsukh shrugged. “Then you’ll probably share their fate.”
“Which is?”
Another shrug. “I don’t know, but it can’t be good, considering the reward offered for their capture.”
“How much?”
“You don’t want to know. It just might change your mind about coming.”
Jack frowned. “That much, huh?”
“Yup.”
“Well, I think I’ll come nonetheless, you’ve got me curious.”
Khurelsukh shook his head. “You’re a fool, Jack.”
“You think I don’t know that already?”
52 |
United States Army Garrison Humphreys Pyeongtaek, South Korea
“When you said let’s go out for a quick run and burn off some energy, I didn’t think you meant ten miles,” complained Sergeant Carl “Niner” Sung, a seasoned member of the elite Bravo Team, part of 1st Special Forces Operational Detachment—Delta, commonly known to the public as the Delta Force.
“It ain’t worth doing unless it’s double digits,” rumbled the impossibly muscled Sergeant Leon “Atlas” James.
“Bullshit. I can think of plenty of things that are worth doing that aren’t double digits.”
“Such as?”
“Making love to a beautiful woman.”
Atlas eyed him. “Well, if you think doing that only once is enough, then maybe women aren’t your thing.”
Sergeant Will “Spock” Lightman laughed. “Somebody call the fire department, you just got burned!”
Niner gave him a look. “Hey, the nineteen-nighties just called, they want their burn back.”
Spock flipped him the bird and a grin. “The classics never die.”
Atlas interrupted. “So, bringing things back to only wanting to make love to a woman less than ten times in your life, that obviously means you still haven’t reached those double digits?”
Niner’s fist darted toward Atlas’ jaw, the big man catching it effortlessly with an open palm. “You know what I meant.”
“It’s nothing to be embarrassed about. Lots of people save themselves for marriage.”
Niner turned to Command Sergeant Major Burt “Big Dog” Dawson, leading the group. “BD, Atlas is picking on me,” he whined. “Can I shoot him?”
Dawson shook his head. “Not until we’re stateside. Too much paperwork in Korea.”
“Thanks, BD.” He grinned at Atlas. “Where do you want it? In the ass?”
“How’d I know you’d go there?”
Everyone roared with laughter, Spock losing his footing and hitting the ground hard, causing a mini pileup. A Humvee rushed onto the scene, a corporal hopping out and running toward the group then coming to a halt in front of Dawson.
“Sergeant Major, a message for you.”
Dawson took the paper and read it then turned to the group. “Return to barracks. Niner, Atlas, Spock, be ready to leave ASAP, pack for a business trip. I’ll be back to brief you as soon as I can.” He climbed into the back of the Humvee leaving the rest of the team picking up those who had tripped over Spock.
“What do you think that’s all about?” asked Niner.
Atlas shrugged. “No idea, but it’s gotta be more fun than playing teacher.”
53 |
Operations Center 3, CIA Headquarters Langley, Virginia
“Did that idiot just say he was going to go with them?”
The Mongolian translator nodded at Leroux. “Yes, sir. He was given the choice between staying and taking the professors’ car, or coming with them to this ‘classified’ location. The classified location has to be the mine. I mean, where else could it be?”
Leroux shook his head. “He doesn’t know that, though. He probably thinks he might be able to help them if he goes with them and we track his position.” He thought for a moment. “Does he have his watch?”
Child shrugged. “He should.”
“Then send him a message.”
“If they catch him looking too closely, they might shoot him.”
Leroux frowned. “Okay, send it in Morse Code.”
“What should it say? Stay?”
“No, he might think it means stay there or stay with them. Just send, ‘Don’t go.’”
Child tapped at his keyboard. “Done. Now let’s just hope he has his watch.”
Tong grunted. “And remembers Morse Code.”
54 |
Eastern Mongolia
Acton held Laura’s hand tightly as they sat wedged between Mongolian soldiers, their savior, Jack, sitting across from them, appearing perfectly calm as if nothing untoward had just happened. Acton was dying to ask him what exactly had just happened, yet kept his mouth shut, there no knowing what the reaction from the soldiers might be. He doubted they’d shoot him, though a rifle butt to the stomach wasn’t exactly appealing either. They’d know soon enough.
Jack suddenly stood and extended his hand toward the man in charge, saying something in Mongolian. There was a brief exchange then the soldier laughed, pointing at the still-open door, the pilot yet to lift off as they powered back up.
Jack stepped over to them. “Did you leave the keys in the car?”
“What?”
“Did you leave the keys in the car? I’m going to need them.”
Acto
n couldn’t remember, and patted his pockets, not finding them, and frankly pissed that this coward was about to abandon them. Obviously, the double-cross hadn’t extended to him, only them. “I must have left them in the car.”
“Okay, thanks.” He patted Acton on the shoulder. “Good luck!” Jack hopped out and the helicopter rose into the night sky. As it banked, Acton caught a glimpse of Jack climbing in their rental, the keys obviously still in the ignition as the lights turned on and the car pulled a quick U-turn, their savior heading back to Ulaanbaatar, abandoning them to what fate, he didn’t know.
Though he was quite certain neither of them would see dawn.
55 |
United States Army Garrison Humphreys Pyeongtaek, South Korea
Burt “Big Dog” Dawson took a seat in the nondescript briefing room, a panel at the front of the room showing his commanding officer, Colonel Thomas Clancy, and a CIA analyst he had dealt with in the past, Chris Leroux.
“Casual Friday?” asked Clancy with a wry smile.
Dawson glanced down at his jogging gear. “I figured I’d relax while the boss was on the other side of the planet.”
Clancy chuckled. He was never one for formalities unless brass bigger than him were in the room. He was a soldier’s soldier. Unlike many officers, Dawson was sure Clancy would have been just as comfortable as an NCO as a senior officer. He was a good man, and if it weren’t for their differences in station, Dawson could see them being good friends in another life.
“Well, you’ll get to stay out of your uniform for a bit longer. We’ve got a situation that needs your expertise.”
“What’s up?”
“I’ll let Mr. Leroux explain.”
Leroux shifted in his seat, still a shy guy, though not the painfully introverted young man he had been only a couple of years ago. “Sergeant Major, good to be working with you again.”
“Likewise.”
“We have a situation in Mongolia involving Professors Acton and Palmer.”
Dawson shook his head. “What else is new? What have they got themselves into this time?”
Leroux grunted. “Well, this time we can definitely lay blame at their feet. Less than forty-eight hours ago, Professor Acton received a text message from a former Mongolian exchange student named Arban Namjiliin. The message indicated he was in trouble, didn’t know who to trust, and that he thought someone might kill him.”
Dawson sighed. “Well, if that wouldn’t get those two charging in to save the day, I don’t know what would. Did they at least try outside channels?”
“Yes, Professor Acton sent a secure message to Special Agent Kane, who unfortunately was radio silent at the time. He didn’t receive the message until they were almost ready to land.”
“This is why civilians shouldn’t have access to priority transport.”
Clancy chuckled. “At least those two civilians. I still say we should revoke both their passports.”
“Agreed.”
Leroux continued. “While monitoring Echelon, we discovered that not only was there a lot of activity in Mongolia expressing interest in finding Professor Acton, but that Dean Milton was in trouble at Acton’s residence.”
Dawson leaned forward, concerned. Milton was a special case, one of his team’s biggest regrets. He had given the order, based upon bad intel, to shoot Milton as a terrorist on the President’s Termination List. A sanctioned, legal kill. But it had all been a lie, and thankfully because it had been committed in a public restroom, fate had delivered a trauma surgeon into Milton’s path only minutes later, saving his life.
Dawson and his team would do anything to protect Milton.
Or avenge him.
“Is he okay?”
“No. He’s alive, but was badly beaten and tortured, and there’s some question as to whether he’ll ever walk again.”
Dawson cursed, leaning back in his chair as he glared at the screen. “Please tell me we know who did it.”
“I’ll do you one better. Sherrie—I mean Agent White, and Lee Fang arrived on the scene, took the assailant into custody, and called for an ambulance.”
“Who is he?”
“His name is Willem Du Toit, a known mercenary. He’s given up the name of his contact in Mongolia, a Mr. Hendrick Stander, another known mercenary.”
“Have you been able to contact the professors?”
“No. We’ve managed to extract Thomas Granger and Mai Trinh safely, though not without incident. They’ll be landing in Seoul soon. We’ll arrange for a debriefing.”
“Good. And the professors?”
“All we know is that they were heading to what appears to be a strip mine in eastern Mongolia. They were intercepted by one of our agents, but he was double-crossed by his military escort. The Actons are now in Mongolian custody, though we believe they’re going to be taken to the mine site.”
“And killed?”
“We assume so. Our understanding is that some archaeological discovery was made at the mine site, and they’re trying to cover it up.”
Dawson’s head bobbed. “Because it could kill the operation.”
“That’s our theory.”
“I assume you’re Control?”
Leroux nodded. “Yes.”
“Good. What’s the mission?”
“It’s a four-man op. I’d prefer your entire team, but we figure four is the most we can smuggle in without it being noticed.”
“The note said to prep for business attire?”
“Yes. You’ll be going in as businessmen, there to meet with the government. We’ve got a private charter arranged that will take you as soon as you’re ready. You’ll be arriving in the middle of the night, which is unusual, so expect extra scrutiny. We just don’t have any time to wait until morning to put you on a commercial flight.”
“No problem. We all have our cover IDs with us. Are we expected?”
“We don’t believe so.”
Dawson’s eyebrows rose slightly. “Believe?”
Leroux held up his hands slightly. “Sorry, that’s the best reassurance I can offer you. We just don’t know. Our intel is very sparse. We’re trying to connect to our contact on the ground now. We’ll hopefully know more shortly. You should have all the details we know in your secure email, but it’s incredibly thin. Communications will be difficult until we get you supplied.”
“Through the embassy, I assume?”
“Yes. Hopefully it will be our contact on the ground meeting you. He’s as up to date as we are, but he’s two hours from your rendezvous. We’re hoping he makes it back in time. If he doesn’t, we’ll have someone else equip you. We’ve already made hotel reservations for you, so everything should appear legit. The base printers should have business cards and some documents on fake letterhead for you any minute now.”
Dawson nodded. “Okay, we’ll be ready in fifteen.”
“Good luck, Sergeant Major.”
Dawson rose. “To all of us.”
56 |
Eastern Mongolia
Jack had the pedal floored as he tried to shave significant time off the return trip to Ulaanbaatar. Major Khurelsukh hadn’t patted him down, in fact, hadn’t even confiscated his weapon. It was a clear indication he was of no interest to the major or whoever had hired him to betray him.
He had little doubt this was an oversight on the part of the bigger wallet, and they would be pissed when they found out Khurelsukh had let him go. He had little doubt the major would play the same card he had with him—they hadn’t been specific enough.
He chuckled at the balls Khurelsukh had on him.
He tried connecting to Langley again, the satellite uplink giving him nothing but static the last time he tried, making him wonder if the helicopter had activated a jammer.
This time he connected.
“This is Rawhide calling Control, come in, over.”
“This is Control, we’ve got you. I assume you received our message?”
“I did. You better have
a damned good reason for having me leave them alone.”
“We have assets arriving in a few hours. We need you to rendezvous with them, supply them, then get them to the GPS coordinates the professors were heading to.”
He grunted. “Is that all? And what makes you think that’s where they’re heading?”
“The juicy green and black satellite image I’m looking at that shows them on a direct heading to those coordinates. Besides, what were you going to do when you got there? Singlehandedly take out an entire platoon of soldiers, plus whatever private security they have on site?”
He chuckled. He didn’t know who Control was today, but he liked him. “Yes.”
Control laughed. “I admire your self-confidence.”
“As do I, though I’m beginning to think your plan is better. It’s going to take me two to three hours to get back and arrange things, then it’s a three hour drive back. Do we have that kind of time?”
“We don’t believe so. We recommend you try to secure transport that gets you there quicker.”
He frowned. “The last time I did that it didn’t exactly work out.”
“Perhaps try a better class of people to bribe?”
Jack laughed. “I’ll take it under advisement. I’ll let you know when I reach the city. Contact me if you have any additional information. Right now, I’m doing over a hundred miles per hour on a shitty road in a less than stellar car in the dark. I should be concentrating on my driving.”
“Good idea. Control, out.”
Jack gripped the wheel tighter, pressing his foot a little harder, the distraction of the conversation having it lifting from the floor slightly. He sighed.
Okay, where the hell am I going to get a helicopter in the middle of the night? And a pilot?
His fingers tapped the steering wheel, then he smiled. Whoever was arriving were likely Special Forces, and there was no way one of them didn’t know how to fly a chopper.
The Tomb of Genghis Khan Page 13