Dangerous Ground: The Team Book Five

by David M. Salkin

  “So whatever we’re going to do, we need to do it fast. What’s the status of our broken arrows?”

  “The Dauntless is en route. A few more hours before it arrives on station. Oh, and just to keep things interesting, the USS William P. Lawrence was buzzed by two Chinese fighters again.”

  “Jesus. What the hell is the matter with these people? Are they trying to start World War III?”

  “I know, it’s crazy. The Lawrence fired warning flares.”

  “Yeah, well one of these days, we’re going to fire a warning Sea Sparrow, and we’re going to have a real situation on our hands.”

  Dex smiled at the thought of Sea Sparrow surface-to-air missiles knocking out a couple of Chinese J-11s. “Interesting part of the world,” he muttered.

  “Our other nasty weapon should be arriving at the Sunrise any second as well,” said Darren.

  “What’s that?” asked Dex.

  “Carl Stone,” replied Darren. “He’s out of Lebanon. I sent him to help out the team.”

  “They already had nine operators. Ten against a hundred seems like overkill,” said Dex.

  Darren smirked. “Don’t be so cocky. Let’s find those two reporters and knock out that camp. I’m on my way back to the office. See if you can find out who’s running the show over there in Brunei by the time I get back.”

  ***

  Half a world away, an HH-60H Sea Hawk helicopter was landing on the helipad of the oil platform Sunrise. The gray helicopter was property of the United States Navy, Special Operations Group, off of the USS Ronald Reagan, from where the drone had deployed.

  The team was asleep, except for Hodges, who was on watch again. The sound of the rotors woke up the sleeping men, and they all scrambled out of their beds to the deck above. Most of them were barefoot, in boxer shorts, but all of them were armed.

  The door slid open and Carl Stone hopped out. A crew chief handed him three large duffle bags and snapped a quick salute, and off they went.

  Hodges stood nearby, waiting for the arrival. Eric, like the rest of the team, had met Carl Stone while in Mexico on a previous covert operation. Unlike the team, Carl wasn’t military. He wasn’t actually anything. He didn’t exist.

  “Hey! Good to see ya,” said Eric as he helped Carl with his bags.

  “Thanks. Got here just in time I think. You got coffee or Rip Its on this barge? I’m in my own fuckin’ time zone. I started in Lebanon. Went to Israel. Got a flight to Japan. Japan to the Ronald Reagan. Reagan to here. All in less than twenty hours. I’m so tired I could puke.”

  “Coffee’s on. Just made it.”

  The two of them turned to see the rest of the team stumble up the steps, half asleep.

  “Welcome to the Sunrise,” said Moose. “We haven’t hit any oil yet.”

  “Well, we’re gonna be hittin’ something real soon,” said Carl.

  Chapter 45

  Lost

  Kevin and Valerie Jean had been running on and off for hours, and were now officially lost. They’d checked the compass and the map dozens of times, but the jungle was impassible in some places and they had to change their course several times until Val’s phone died, taking their compass with it. They’d been very frugal with Kevin’s camera and satellite phone batteries, and so they’d wandered off course until they were exhausted and starting to panic. When it became too dark to move, they slept for a couple of hours of terrified rest on the wet ground and then forced themselves up at the first hints of ambient light.

  “Try the minister again,” said Val, sitting on a fallen tree to catch her breath.

  Kevin turned on his phone and saw his mailbox had gotten several new messages. At a quick glance, he saw several news networks that he was anxious to read, but a different one said RESCUE and caught his eye. He opened it and read it out loud to Val.

  United States Special Operations Group has received your video. We will attempt to find and extract you from your situation. Please acknowledge your receipt of this contact. Include your communication equipment status and approximate location if possible. Taking a picture with your GPS tag on and forwarding it here will assist us in locating you. If being followed by hostile forces, stay on the move. Head northeast if possible for better terrain. Remain calm and quiet. Preserve batteries once you respond and check your e-mail again at 0800 your time. If possible, call this number.

  “Rescue? Oh thank God,” said Val, feeling her eyes fill with tears of relief. “Try the number!”

  Kevin dialed the number on his satellite phone and was shocked when a woman’s voice answered.

  “You’ve reached a special hotline, confirm your identity,” said the voice calmly.

  “Hey! This is Kevin Israel and Valeria Jean Kozak! You sent us this number!”

  “Okay, Kevin. This dedicated phone line was set up specifically for you. Are you in a safe location and how much battery life do you have on this phone?”

  “I don’t know. We’ve been on the run for hours. We only stopped last night when it got too dark. We can’t tell if they’re following us. I’ve been careful with my battery. Should have a few hours left.”

  “Very good. I need you to turn on the GPS locator on your phone, take a picture of yourselves, and send it to this number. It will help us find you. Then I want you to turn off your phone to save batteries, and keep heading northeast, away from that camp, to higher ground. If you’re walking uphill, you’re going the right direction, do you understand?”

  “Yes, ma’am. When can you send help?”

  “That’s being worked on now. You need to understand, it may take a day or two. You’re going to have to tough this out. Stay on the move, and stay quiet. Keep walking uphill and don’t stop for anything. We’re gathering intelligence now and working on a plan for extraction. What can you tell us about the camp? Do you know the number of soldiers? Did you see weapons?”

  “We could hear machine guns. There was a lot of them, but I don’t know how many. We ran. They killed the rangers and the natives that lived out here. There was a little village—a kampong, called Aht. They murdered all of the villagers and took over the kampong and turned it into a training camp or something.”

  “Okay, stay calm. So you think, more than fifty? More than a hundred? Can you give me your best guess?”

  “I don’t know. Maybe a hundred. I don’t know!”

  “Okay. It’s okay. Just try and remain focused. Do you have any questions for me?”

  Kevin looked at Val and shrugged. “No, I guess not. I’ll send the picture, turn off my phone, and check again at eight my time.”

  “Outstanding. Kevin, you and Val need to remain calm, stay on the move, and use your brains to stay alive. Don’t forget to activate the picture location services on your phone. The GPS. We’re going to get you out.”

  “Thank you. Thank you so much. I’m going to send the picture now.”

  He hung up and took a picture of Val with his location services GPS on, and sent it to the number. The two of them hugged for a long moment and tried not to cry, then grabbed each other by the hand and continued moving through the jungle.

  ***

  Three kilometers behind them, a dozen men with assault rifles hacked through the jungle and arrived at the ranger’s boat the group had used to head up the river to Kampong Aht.

  “If the boat’s still here, then so are they,” said Hazrol. He smacked the beaten ranger in his swollen bloody face. “Find their trail!” he commanded.

  The ranger led the group into the jungle, unsure of what to do, but hoping that staying on the move might keep him alive until he could figure out a way to escape. Behind him, the ISIS fighters trudged through the slippery mud and vegetation, angry to be on a wild-goose chase in the steamy jungle instead of preparing for an attack on the infidels.

  Chapter 46

  Contact


  Dex received the call right before he was ready to leave for the day. The two New Zealanders were still alive, and had made contact through the emergency number created just for them. The agent that took the call immediately gave the information to Dex, who threw his jacket off and ran over to Darren Davis’s office. Darren was just back from the White House.

  “We’ve got contact from the two Kiwis. They’re alive and on the run.”

  “Good news.”

  “The drone’s still up. Analysts say a hundred men, give or take. The village of Aht is tiny. It was a family clan of maybe fifty, tops. Looks like these guys came up the river by boat, killed all of the villagers, and just made it their own. Facial recognition software gave us the most likely ring leader. Guy’s name is Mohammed bin Awad. Syrian gunrunner who’s been a lifelong dirtbag. I confirmed with two of our agents that he’s an up-and-coming ISIS commander, but in Syria and Iraq, not Southeast Asia. This looks like the makings of a large-scale operation. With Mohammed and Hamdi traveling all the way to Brunei, they’ve got something big going down. We’re shaking the trees, but no one’s heard of anything being talked about in the rumor mill.”

  Darren crossed his arms and tightened his face in thought. “Brunei. Why the hell would these two fly halfway around the world to Brunei? What’s their target? Something economic? Hong Kong, Singapore, Tokyo? Or something governmental, symbolic, or religious? Jakarta? Manila? Hell, even Australia. Damn. We haven’t heard anything?”

  “Zero chatter.”

  “Damn it.” Darren stretched his back and loosened his tie. “Just off the phone with PACCOM. The Dauntless is almost at the Sunrise. As soon as they have the nukes loaded, they’ll head straight to Guam.”

  “Guam, huh? I was wondering what they’re going to do with it.”

  “The Marines at Andersen Air Force Base have EOD that will take the nukes. They’ll be brought into Naval Base Guam. Once the navy has the nukes, disposal is their problem.”

  “Long trip.”

  “Yeah. Over twenty-three hundred miles. They’ll have escorts for most of it. We just need to get them out of the South China Sea without an international incident.”

  Dex pulled off his tie. “I was getting ready to head home. Guess I’ll stick around and wait for the packages to make it onboard.”

  “Go home and visit your wife. Get some sleep.”

  “And miss the start of World War III? No way. Plus, if this whole plan with the secretary and FBI goes south, I might be the new director. I should probably be here.”

  “Fuck you. Make us coffee.”

  ***

  Several thousand miles away, the HSV Dauntless skimmed through an amazing red sunrise that sent pink tendrils across an endless sky. The Dauntless was shaped like a giant steel catamaran. For a vessel the length of a football field, it was nimble and could hit over forty-five knots. The ship had a helipad and large crane at the stern, and in its lifespan it had performed everything from special operations support to hurricane rescue and relief operations.

  “Contact the team on the Sunrise,” said the ship’s captain, Commander Jessica Coulter.

  “Aye, aye, skipper,” replied her radioman. He hailed the Sunrise, appropriately, at sunrise.

  Back in the control room of the Sunrise, Pete McCoy grabbed his radio when the call came in. Both the team and Commander Coulter knew the cargo, as well as the secrecy required during the loading of the nuclear weapons.

  “Sunrise here. I have your contact on my screen, two miles out. We will begin preparing the cargo for transfer. Over.”

  “Sunrise this is Dauntless Commander Coulter. Estimated time to docking alongside is fifteen minutes. I’ll need assistance from your platform. We usually have a tugboat for this. Parking this vessel alongside will be interesting, to say the least. Over.”

  “Roger, Dauntless. Understood. We’ll have all available hands on deck three, which should be close to your rail. Cargo will be prepped for transfer to your cranes. Out.”

  McCoy pressed the “All-Call” button on the console and spoke into the mic. “Now hear this, now hear this. Dauntless preparing to dock alongside in fifteen minutes. All hands on deck three to assist. Winch operator to deck one to prepare cargo.”

  McCoy smiled. It was the closest he’d ever come to commanding a US Navy ship, and he felt all-powerful speaking over the ship’s public address system. The euphoria was short-lived, however, and he hopped up from his chair and ran down to deck three.

  By the time McCoy arrived at deck three, everyone except Ray Jensen was already there, spaced out along the rail with heavy lines at the ready. They’d already put out the bumpers alongside the rail, and stood in silence watching the beautiful sleek ship slowly move closer. Ray was on the first deck, just above the waterline, operating the winches that were now bringing up two bombs large enough to vaporize their oil platform and the navy ship in a split second.

  As the Dauntless came alongside, Commander Coulter used the twin props to expertly move within a foot of the platform without touching it. It was nothing short of amazing to watch a person who looked so tiny up in the bridge of a large ship move it with such precision alongside an oil platform so immense that it dwarfed the three-hundred-foot-long vessel. As she came alongside, the team began throwing lines to the sailors on the deck, and the dozens of sailors pulled the two vessels together until they were tied off and the engine was cut to neutral.

  By the time the ship was docked alongside, Ray had brought the winch up all the way. He used the controls to move the small crane out away from the platform, and by so doing, the two giant eggs were suspended a few feet below the water.

  Aboard the Dauntless, the crew had been briefed about their mission and sped into action. One of their sailors repelled over the side in a wetsuit and dropped down into the water as the ship’s large crane deployed from the stern. While that sailor went to work immediately securing the straps around the nukes to lines from the crane, a small inflatable craft deployed from beneath the stern and four EOD techs roared over to the nukes with a sailor at the stern running an outboard.

  The crane operator brought the two bombs up to the surface of the water as the small watercraft pulled up alongside. The EOD techs secured their raft to the bombs and jumped right into their mission—disarming two nuclear bombs while floating between two large vessels full of human beings.

  The team had moved to the side of their platform, which gave them a view of the EOD crew down below. While normally they might take cover somewhere when a bomb was being disarmed, it made no difference where they stood this time. There was no hiding from a twenty-megaton explosion.

  No one said a word as they looked down and watched the techs use small torches to cut open the now-rusted access panels. Once the bombs were opened, they went about their work methodically. Though the team couldn’t see much from where they stood, they knew the men below were either going to successfully disarm the two nukes, or none of them would ever know they didn’t.

  Twenty minutes later, the EODs gave a thumbs-up on the first nuke. No one cheered or dared even breathe too loudly. That waited and watched in silence as the bomb techs went to work on the second nuke. Almost a half hour later, when the EOD team held up their hands in victory the second time, there were a lot of sighs of relief. Aboard the Dauntless, the crane began lifting the two bombs very slowly to the stern of the ship.

  As the men watched, the bridge of the Dauntless began flashing signal lights at the men. Something was up.

  McCoy, who had left the command room of the Sunrise unmanned to help below, ran as fast as he could up the stairs to the command center. Apo was right on his tail. They burst into the room and McCoy grabbed the radio.

  “This is Sunrise. You hailing me? Over.”

  “Affirmative. Been trying to reach you. We have two inbound aircraft on my radar. Most likely Chinese fighter jets. Maybe
four minutes out, over.”

  “Shit,” said McCoy to Apo. “What do we do?”

  Apo grimaced. “Nothing. Load the nukes and let them get underway.”

  “Understood. The second you have the cargo secure, we’ll cast off and help you get underway. Over.”

  “Affirmative. We’re going to try and get the cargo under cover before they pass overhead. Our escort is still a few hours away from our rendezvous point. Thanks for the help, out.”

  McCoy grabbed the all-call mic and hit the button. “Attention on deck. Two inbound aircraft, most likely Chinese fighters. We need to get this ship underway as fast as possible, and they need that cargo secured and concealed. Bridge out!”

  Down below, Moose and Ripper were barking at their men just like the sailors aboard the Dauntless. The small raft roared up out of the water and raced to the stern where it slid up a rear ramp and the sailors hopped out to secure their boat. The sailor who had gone over the side was helped back up over the rail as the crane began lowering the two bombs toward the deck. More sailors appeared from inside with large dollies, which they positioned below the bombs as they were lowered. The instant the bombs were free of the straps, the crane moved away and the sailors pushed the dollies to a deck elevator where they would be lowered and secured inside the ship. The team onboard the Sunrise cast off the lines and gave a few waves to the other sailors, and Commander Coulter revved up the engine and blew the ship’s whistle. A moment later, the Dauntless roared away from the oil platform just as two Chinese J-11 fighters took a slow pass overhead.

  Six miles away, the USS William P. Lawrence closed on the Dauntless, aware that three Chinese warships were shadowing them from less than five miles off their stern. Three hundred feet below the surface, half a mile behind the Dauntless, the USS John Warner silently moved through the water column, watching everything in the water move on their sonar monitors. Eighty miles away, the USS Ronald Reagan altered its course to provide air cover if needed as the Dauntless headed toward Guam.