“Come on, baby!”
“You got this!”
A few minutes later, Jon’s helmet breached the surface, followed by his Michelin Man suit, spinning slowly as he came up from the water. A cheer erupted from the team, and they reached out and grabbed his arms as the winch was brought over the deck of the ship. A minute later, Jon’s feet touched the deck and the winch stopped, as Ray and Ryan immediately went to work taking apart the suit.
As the top half of the suit was lifted off, another cheer went up as they saw Jon’s face for the first time. His lips were a little blue and he was shivering, but his smile was contagious. Ripper and Moose picked Jon up under his armpits and took him out of the suit legs, and McCoy wrapped a silver thermal blanket around him and handed him a bottle of water, which Jon drank instantly.
“Good to have you back, brother,” said Moose, rubbing his shoulders and back and trying to warm him up.
“Holy crud, it’s good to be above the water. I didn’t think I’d see your ugly mugs again.” His teeth literally chattered as he spoke.
“Get him inside,” said McCoy. “He needs some hot food and a few more blankets.”
“Call my mom. She’ll send chicken soup,” said Jon, forcing a smile. He was walking, with the help of Moose and Ripper, but he was exhausted from the cold and stress, and cramped up from being in the suit for so many hours. His lips were purple against a very white face.
“Hey, man, you might have set some type of dive record for most hours at six hundred feet,” said Ripper with a grin. The group walked to the elevator and brought Jon to the deck where their rooms were located.
“I don’t recommend anyone try and break it,” replied Jon weakly. “What about the nukes?”
“They’re still hanging below us,” said Moose. “We changed mission priorities to rescue the world’s worst diver.”
“Sorry about that. Shit, man, I never even saw it coming. The weight coming off the jet made it shift—next thing I know, I’m on my back and can’t move.”
“I’m just busting your balls, man. You did great. We have the nukes ready for recovery, and you’re still in one piece.”
McCoy helped Jon to his small bed in his room. “Just lay down and warm up for a little bit. I’ll bring you some food.”
“I want to hear about the rescue, when you’re up for it,” said Moose. “Some dude in another one of these suits just walk up to you from out of nowhere?”
“No, it wasn’t a Newtsuit. Just a deep-dive dry suit. I was flat on my back, and a face appears right in front of me, with some dude smiling and making faces at me. I thought I was narced out or something for a second. Man, was I glad to see him. I owe that sailor a beer or ten.”
McCoy’s voice came on over the PA system of the rig. “Moose to command! Incoming flash messages!”
Moose and Ripper exchanged quick glances and smacked Jon on his shoulders. “Okay, boy-o, we gotta go see what’s up. Eat. Sleep. Take a hot shower, and we can debrief when you’re ready.”
The two of them hustled off to see what was so exciting in the control room.
Chapter 41
Langley
Darren Davis and Dex Murphy sat together in Darren’s office working their way through yet another pot of Turkish coffee.
“If we give the pictures to Gallo, he’ll have to follow up,” said Dex, looking at the pile of photos on the table that Chris and Julia had taken. The images showed the various pieces of artwork stolen from Syria and sold through Ali Sawaad to the United States secretary of state.
“Don’t bet on it. Those were gathered illegally, and Gallo has his head so far up Reynaud’s ass he wouldn’t do shit about it. What he might do is serve us a subpoena for breaking into her homes to take the pictures.”
“Come on, Darren, we have the GPS in the statue! We have the money transfers! We can nail her ass to the wall.”
Darren shook his head. “Look, the priority is getting the boss’s head out of the noose. We show Gallo the photos, tell him we have her cold, and simply make a trade. He’ll find evidence of a foreign government having planted the pictures on Wallace’s computer, and we’ll forget about the art that Danielle has ‘saved from destruction’ because of her noble concerns about ISIS destroying the artwork.”
Dex shook his head. “It’s bullshit.”
“Of course it’s bullshit! But with Danielle and the president and the director of the FBI all swappin’ spit together, it’s the best we’re going to get. Besides, with the stuff we’ve got on her, she’ll never be able to run for president next year.”
Darren’s inside phone rang, and he grabbed it. “Davis.”
It was Tina Marie, one of his assistants from the Pacific Desk. “Chief, open your mail and play the video I just sent you. That operation in Brunei just got a little more interesting. I’m in my office if you need me.”
Tina Marie had been instrumental in setting up the operation in Brunei, and had done all of the actual legwork to acquire the semi-submersible oil platform, set up the fake Interglobe Oil company, and take care of all the ground support for Bruce and Apo during the operation. She was reliable, and rarely bothered the boss unless it was important.
Darren looked at Dex and shrugged, then popped open the video from his mail. A pretty blonde with a New Zealand accent was pleading into the camera for a rescue from ISIS fighters in Brunei.
“Holy shit,” blurted Dex. The two of them listened to the videos, and then projected the map software on to a large screen in the office. They zoomed in on the Labi Forest Reserve.
“No notation about Kampong Aht,” mumbled Dex.
“Too small, I guess. But let me get our people on this. If this is legit, then we were right in our assessment of the sultan. If he’s taking his country down the Sharia highway, then it’s not far-fetched that he’d allow ISIS to operate in his country. There’s no way they’d be there without the government knowing it. That country is tight as a drum. No way. If they’re there, it’s with the sultan’s blessing.”
“What do we do about those two reporters?” asked Dex.
Darren folded his arms. “Not sure. Our priority is the nukes. Especially with ISIS forces confirmed nearby. Jesus, can you imagine ISIS with twenty megatons? I’ll check in with Apo and the team and see what the status is over there.” He walked to his desk and sent a flash massage to his people on the Sunrise.
Chapter 42
Oil Platform Sunrise
Moose and Ripper ran all the way to the control room where McCoy was sitting behind the console with Apo and Bruce. Apo turned when he saw them enter.
“Things just got interesting,” he said. “Flash message from Langley with an attached file. Watch this.”
He hit “play” on the video, and Moose and Ripper watched the same video from Val and Kevin that Dex and Darren had watched only moments ago, halfway around the world. The woman was begging for help.
Moose shook his head and asked, “Boss looking to mount a rescue op?”
“Not exactly. He wants our status on the nuke recovery first.”
“You message him back yet?” asked Moose.
“Negative. I figured we’d better discuss it together first.” Although Apo was technically in charge of the whole operation, Moose was the team’s commanding officer for all things combat-related, having taken over for Chris Cascaes when he retired from the team the year before.
“The nukes are ready to be plucked and sent off on their way. We just need a ship that can bring them aboard. Once they’re up and out, we can fly out to wherever the hell those two reporters are. Do we know where those two are?”
“Not exactly. Labi Forest Reserve is seven hundred acres or so of thick forest and jungle. Assuming we could get a bird to take us, we have zero intel on the ISIS force we’d be facing. I’ll ask Langley for some additional intel—maybe sat
or drone photos—and tell them we’re ready for the nukes to be extracted. As soon as the nukes are picked up, we can move.”
“How’s Jon?” asked Bruce.
“He’ll be good to go by tomorrow. My guys are part fish. They’re supposed to be underwater. You get us a mission, I’ll have us ready,” said Moose.
“Okay. I’ll see about getting these nukes aboard a ship,” said Apo.
“And let’s just hope that the Chinese don’t come cruising by while the nukes are being pulled up out of the water,” said Bruce.
“It’s our property, being recovered in international waters,” said Apo. “Fuck ’em.”
“Yeah, well, China says this water is theirs and I’m not so sure how nine of us will do taking on three warships,” said Bruce with a shrug. “Besides, we’re supposed to be Canadian oilmen—we’d have no authority to be touching nukes, American or otherwise.”
Apo began typing a message to Darren Davis requesting as much information as they could supply on the ISIS camp and size of the force there. They’d be ready to mount a rescue if called upon—they just needed the ship to pick up the nukes.
***
Back in Langley, it was early morning. Darren and Dex were still in Darren’s office discussing five different problems occurring around the world at the same time.
Just another day at the office.
Darren’s inside phone rang again. It was Cheryl Cook.
“Hey, Cookie, how are we doing on our boat?”
“It’s on its way. The high-speed special operations ship HSV Dauntless was on standby in the Philippines. The ship will be at the Sunrise by tomorrow morning, Zulu time, approximately seven hours from now. It has cranes to hoist the packages. The USS William P. Lawrence will provide an escort out of the South China Sea, as well as the submarine USS John Warner. PACCOM is looped in on the packages and understands the ship isn’t to be stopped by the Chinese or anyone else.”
Dex wrinkled his eyebrows, wondering what, exactly, the US Navy destroyer William P. Lawrence would do if it was engaged by the three Chinese warships that had been patrolling the area around the new artificial island. There was no question that the destroyer and submarine could sink all three ships; it was more a question about starting World War III over a piece of water that shouldn’t even have “territories” marked on a map.
“Thanks, Cookie. Keep me in the loop as the ships gets closer to our oil platform. I’ll inform the team that the ship is on its way.” He hung up and looked at Dex. “I’ll need to update the president. He’ll need to give PACCOM the ROEs if the Chinese try and intercept the supply ship.”
“It’s going to be an interesting few hours,” said Dex.
“The team reported in that they can attempt a rescue of those two Kiwis, assuming they’re still alive,” said Darren.
“Why us? Don’t the Aussies have anyone in the area?”
“The president wants a clear statement to the sultan of Brunei, as well as everyone else in the Pacific region, that if ISIS shows up, so will we. I think it sends the right message.”
Dex nodded. “Okay, I’ll buy that. But we only have a team of nine operators. We have no idea how large this ISIS force is.”
“Working on that now. I had PACCOM dispatch a drone off the Ronald Reagan. As soon as we have any intel on location and force size, we’ll come up with a plan. In the meantime, I had IT trace the mailbox of the journalists that sent the video. We’re trying to get a message back to them to let them know we’re sending help. They just have to stay alive another day or so.”
Chapter 43
Kampong Aht
Mohammed and Hamdi sat in their hut, completely horrified, as they listened to the minister of the interior, Abdul Ali, scream at them on their satellite phone. They had made contact to request their ship to Singapore and, instead of getting the details of the ship and truck convoy, were shocked to learn that two journalists from New Zealand had seen their camp and witnessed the murder of a park ranger and a Penan tribesman. Abdul Ali was furious.
“The sultan was gracious enough to give you safe conduct and a place to make your camp, and you repay him with your carelessness!” He had been screaming at them for five minutes straight. When he paused to catch his breath, Mohammed spoke.
“Your Excellency, this is most unfortunate, but they are but two people lost in the jungle. I will have my men find them. It won’t be a problem, I swear it. We have another ranger that my men were preparing to execute. We’ll make him guide us to these two infidels. This can’t take us off of our schedule, though, Excellency. We need trucks waiting for us where the river bends near Kuala Belait. The trucks need to transport my men to the ship we discussed. I need my men on their way to Singapore by tomorrow.”
“And I need those two reporters taken care of now! Or you can forget your trucks and your boat! The sultan will hold me responsible for your carelessness!”
“Yes, your Excellency. My men will find them right away. Please, though, I beg you, have the trucks ready. As soon as these two are disposed of, I need my men operational.”
The minister hung up on him.
Mohammed stood up and stormed out of the hut, followed by Hamdi. They walked quickly along the wooden planks between the huts until Mohammed spotted his men down below. He screamed down to the field where the ranger was tied between two trees. The ranger, found a short time after the others, had been tortured for hours. In his agony, he had convinced Mohammed that the three rangers and three Penan natives were all of them. Now, Mohammed found out that there were two more. He was beyond furious.
At his instruction, the men cut the ranger down from the trees and dragged him across the field toward their leader. Mohammed and Hamdi climbed down the ladders to the ground below and grabbed the beaten man from his guards.
“Lying dog!” screamed Mohammed, punching the man in his face. The man collapsed.
Hamdi jumped down and straddled the man, punching his face three more times, breaking the man’s nose and left cheekbone.
“Enough! I need him alive,” shouted Mohammed. “Take ten men. Have this dog lead you to where those two other infidels are and capture them. I want them brought to me immediately!”
Hamdi grabbed the man and pulled him to his feet, pushing him into the arms of the other two guards. “You heard him! Get more men! This ranger is going to lead us to these two reporters!”
The ISIS fighters assembled a search party, armed with AK-47s, and pushed the ranger out in front of them. The ranger, beaten and terrified, had a rope around his neck like a leash, held by the man behind him. He was told to find the trail to the two reporters in exchange for his life, which was, of course, a lie. The ranger had previously been told he was going to be burned alive, and the mere possibility of escaping such a fate was enough to break him. He swore he would find the two New Zealanders, and led the group out into the woods.
The ranger, even in his horrid condition, was able to quickly pick up the trail where they had come in. The group began a slow run through the woods as Mohammed and Hamdi had the men back at camp assemble and prepare weapons, ammunition, food, and their exploding vests. Eighty of the men would be leaving by boat, heading north toward Kuala Belait. By the time they got to the point of the river closest to the city, these two infidels would be caught and tortured to death, which would satisfy the interior minister, and then the men could be transported by truck to the awaiting ship at Kuala Belait for Singapore.
It was a tight schedule, but as long as his men could find the two meddlers, they should be able to strike Singapore within forty-eight hours.
As Mohammed and Hamdi stood on the planks of their elevated huts watching the men below loading their small boats, a small drone flew in slow circles twenty-five thousand feet above their heads. Live video feed bounced off a satellite over Australia and shot the signal to another satellite over the At
lantic, where it was bounced yet again to a small screen in an office in Langley, Virginia.
Chapter 44
Langley
Dex Murphy sat at his desk watching the live feed from the drone. Two men appeared to be in charge, standing up on a catwalk between huts overlooking the camp. Facial recognition software was still working on one of the men, but the other man was confirmed to be Hamdi Fazil, a Pakistani national known to be responsible for multiple attacks in Afghanistan and Iraq against US troops as well as just about anyone else he felt like murdering.
Dex grabbed his phone and dialed Darren, who was on his way back from the White House. “Go,” said Davis from the backseat of his bodyguard-driven SUV.
“Drone’s on station. We have positive ID on one of the men. Hamdi Fazil. He’s a mid-level murderer, most likely not running the show. We’re still running a few other faces. Nothing else yet. Oh, and definitely an ISIS flag in the camp.”
“Well, nice of them to hoist the black flag. Did they draw a big bull’s-eye on the campsite while they were at it?”
“Not necessary. Just say the word and I’ll have a B-52 remove it from the jungle.”
“Would be nice, but no. The president isn’t going to sign off on an attack on a sovereign nation with which we aren’t at war and don’t have permission to run an air strike. A covert rescue operation is a different story. What’s the status of those two Kiwis?”
“No response from our messages. They’re either on the run, dead, or out of batteries.”
Darren grunted. “Well let’s just hope they’ve been on the run and haven’t looked at e-mail. Hell, maybe they can’t get a signal from the jungle.”
“They managed to upload the videos,” replied Dex. “But you’re right. They’re probably just on the move and haven’t looked yet.”
“What’s going on at the camp?”
“Video shows activity. Lots of men moving around. They’re loading up a small flotilla of boats. Looks like they may be bugging out.”
Dangerous Ground: The Team Book Five Page 13