Military Fiction: THE MAC WALKER COLLECTION: A special ops military fiction collection...

by D. W. Ulsterman

  “Ms. Lerner and Mr. Walker, please come in!”

  The voice’s accent was unmistakably French.

  The door opened inward a few inches, allowing Ella to push it completely open and her and Mac to step into the adjoining room. Several desks were lined up across the floor, each of them with a man or woman seated and working, the sound of fingers over keyboards filling the space. Narrow windows ran the length of the room, allowing light in as well as providing views of the surrounding airport. From the other side of the space and moving quickly toward them was a tall man similar in age to Mac, with longish black hair lined with more than a bit of grey that was combed back from his prominent forehead. He was dressed in a cream colored suit matched with a brilliant red tie. His feet were home to a pair of equally light grey canvas boat shoes, which he appeared to be wearing without socks.

  “Hello! Hello! Hello! I am Louis Danton, master of all you see before you!”

  Danton’s wide smile revealed brilliant and perfectly aligned white teeth, and his extended right hand was comprised of extremely long and perfectly manicured fingers. Mac caught a wave of cologne as Danton moved toward them, the scent reminding him somewhat of soapy leather.

  Louis Danton paused in front of Ella, his eyes looking her up and down as the wide smile remained on his face.

  “Oh, Ms. Lerner it has been too long since we saw each other last! You look magnificent! An oasis in this too drab and dangerous place! Please now, the both of you, follow me to my office where we can talk. Would you like food or drink? Coffee?”

  Mac noted the faint outline of a gun holster running down the back of Danton’s left shoulder. He was armed.

  “No thank you, Mr. Danton, we don’t have much time.”

  Mac was glad for Ella’s refusal of food or drink. He wanted to be out of this place as quickly as possible.

  Danton walked briskly back across the room, smiling to some of the workers sitting at their desks as he did so. A dark grey door stood at the other end of the room with a single armed guard standing outside.

  “I apologize for the militant look of the place, necessary precaution given the circumstances of course. All my security team are French though, very trustworthy.”

  “Yeah, but they start running at the first sign of trouble, right?”

  Louis Danton stopped in mid stride, his back straightening. Mac could sense he didn’t appreciate the joke. Ella though, offered her widest smile yet, even looking like she might actually laugh.

  “I understand one’s need to share humor, Mr. Walker, but would ask you not do so at your host’s expense.”

  Danton continued making his way toward the door as the armed guard glared back at Mac, indicating he too heard the Mac’s joke regarding the French’s notorious historical penchant for running away.

  Ella and Mac followed Danton into his office, a spacious room that was much more luxuriously furnished than the main second floor area. A large window was placed directly behind Danton’s desk, allowing him a full view of the arriving and departing airport traffic.

  “Now you two have a seat. Make yourselves more comfortable. If you don’t mind, I am going to enjoy a smoke.”

  The soapy leather smell was more pronounced inside the office, though it also mingled with that of burning tobacco. Danton stood next to a small drink cart where he proceeded to fill the glass half full with whiskey.

  “You know, most people when they think of France and alcohol, only think of wine, but we produce some of the most marvelous whiskeys. This here is a bottle of single malt from the island of Corsica. Reasonably priced, and frankly, among the best you will find. I’ve sold thousands of bottles of this very whiskey from this airport alone! By the time I leave here, these Libyans will love it!”

  “I thought Muslims didn’t drink.”

  Danton laughed loudly over Mac’s comment, followed by a long drink from his glass.

  “Muslims? They are like any other religion. You have your hardliners who follow the strictest interpretations of the Koran, and you have everybody else who just wants to get by in this life and enjoy it as much as possible. I’m in the enjoyment business Mr. Walker, among other things.”

  Mac had figured out Danton’s angle.

  “You’re a smuggler. You use the airport and your United Nations credentials to bring in goods that people need, and in a place like this, all blown to hell, they need a lot. You’re getting rich off of the chaos.”

  Mac could see Ella tense slightly as she glanced at Mac from the corner of her eye.

  Danton remained quiet for a moment before breaking out into his wide, brilliant white smile again, waiving his right pointer finger next to his face.

  “Yes-yes-yes Mr. Walker, I accept your description, and plead guilty as charged! I assure you though, my interests go far beyond my own profits. I actually do enjoy being able to bring pleasure to others. Providing food, drink, clothing, transportation, computers, or any other assorted gadgetry, is that not what makes this world go round? I am an unrepentant capitalist you see, both a provider and recipient of the near boundless possibilities of the free market!”

  Mac looked back at Danton with a mixture of annoyed amusement. Ella, sensing perhaps that Mac’s annoyance might soon overcome that amusement, intervened.

  “Mr. Walker and his men seek transport back to the United States, Mr. Danton. The ambassador indicated you are both able and willing to provide it.”

  Louis Danton, who had by then sat down behind his large, oak desk, leaned forward in his chair, his head tilting slightly to the left as he took a closer look at both Mac and Ella.

  “You two have a bit of chemistry, don’t you? I can see it! Romance in Benghazi, how marvelous! I have long believed there is always time for love. Always!”

  Ella was right, Mac’s patience wore thin.

  “I’m here about getting me and my men out of Libya alive. Let’s just focus on that ok?”

  Danton took another sip from his glass and then a long, slow drag from his cigarette.

  “I can do that, Mr. Walker, for a price. This isn’t a charity I’m running here you know.”

  Mac couldn’t help but laugh at the irony of Danton’s statement.

  “You’re in charge of the damn United Nations humanitarian efforts in Benghazi.”

  Louis Danton leaned still further forward over his desk, both smiling and nodding his head at the same time.

  “I know, I know! Such an interesting contradiction I’ll admit!”

  “The ambassador says you’re one of us, meaning you are no friend of the globalists that infect the United Nations. That you are working against these radioactive weapons that are here, or heading this way. That true?”

  Mac had posed the question for the sole purpose of pushing Danton away from his comfort zone. It didn’t work. Danton’s mood remained pleasantly aloof, carefree, and completely at ease.

  “Yes that too is true, Mr. Walker. I may be a capitalist, but not one without a certain degree of morals and considerations toward the bigger picture. Such weapons should not be part of this program. I am working to circumvent their use, as I have done in the past, and will do so again. As for your description of the United Nations, again, I would agree. It has become a most vile and corrupt institution, and increasingly dangerous to both our countries. Again, I work to alleviate that danger as much as possible, but to do so, I must work within the beast itself Mr. Walker. Does that make sense to you?”

  Mac shrugged. He could give a shit about the politics of the United Nations, or supposed conspiracies, he just wanted to get his men home safe from this disaster of an assignment.

  “My dad used to tell me you lay down with dogs and you get up with fleas, Mr. Danton. Might want to think about that as you spend all this time working within the beast, as you put it.”

  Louis Danton clapped his hands together and laughed as cigarette smoke swirled around his head.

  “Very good, Mr. Walker, indeed that too is true! Fleas…yes, there is
an abundance of those in this business of mine. Nasty, bloodsuckers they are!”

  “And what about Dasha Al Marri, I assume you know of her?”

  Finally Danton grew quiet, his eyes losing a touch of their humor.

  “Oh yes, Dasha. I know her well Mr. Walker, well enough to know to avoid her if at all possible. A scary one she is. A damn cold piece of work. I understand you recently came to know a bit of her…warmer parts though.”

  Mac’s eyes widened in shock. He didn’t expect Danton to know about the night and morning he had spent making love to Dasha. Ella’s eyes looked over at Mac briefly. Was that disappointment Mac saw looking back at him? Or anger?

  At least it wasn’t indifference.

  Danton held up both of his hands in front of him.

  “I apologize, Mr. Walker that was not an appropriate comment. Such business is your business, and not mine. Forgive me.”

  “Transport from Benghazi, Mr. Danton. Please confirm when you can provide that.”

  Ella’s request cut through Danton’s discomfort, allowing him to change the subject.

  “Yes, tomorrow morning. 9:00 a.m. we have a United Nations transport flight leaving here on its way to Abidjan – the Ivory Coast. From there you and your men can access an Air France flight to take you back to the United States. You simply need go to desk two and ask for Gifford Roche. I will already have contacted him for you to let him know your situation and needs. He and I have done a great deal of business together already.”

  “How much?”

  Mac’s question was left unanswered as Danton finished the contents of his whiskey glass. His eyes narrowed slightly as he looked back at Mac.

  “Ah, now we enter real negotiations Mr. Walker! Are you up to the challenge?”

  Ella stood up, looked down at Mac and then back to Danton.

  “No negotiations, Mr. Danton, you are doing this as a favor for the ambassador.”

  For the first time since meeting him, Mac noted a hint of real danger in Danton’s voice as he too stood up to stare back at Danton.

  “There are always negotiations Ms. Lerner. You asking otherwise will not make it so. As I just said, I am not running a charity here. You wish for me to assist Mr. Walker and his men. That requires some effort, certain risk, for which I expect to be fairly compensated.”

  Mac placed the envelope of forty thousand Euros given to him at the beginning of the assignment on the top of Danton’s desk.

  “That’s forty thousand Euros. It’s all I have.”

  Louis Danton’s hand snatched the envelope and extracted the bills, his fingers expertly counting the amount in just a few seconds.

  “Very good, Mr. Walker we now have a deal. I will reserve a spot for you and your men on the flight leaving here tomorrow, September 11th, at 9:00 a.m. Please do not be late. I will not hold the flight for you. Also be aware that I am not responsible for protecting you between now and then, or at any time during or after the flight. Do you understand?”

  Mac nodded.

  “Sure, don’t get myself killed. I’ve done a fair job of that so far, Mr. Danton as you have too, apparently.”

  Danton bowed his head slightly, the warm smile returning.

  “That I have, Mr. Walker. That I have. If you arrive back here tomorrow by 8:30 I can personally see you and your men onto the flight.”

  Danton extended his hand to Mac, who shook it firmly in his own. Ella turned abruptly from Danton’s desk and began walking toward the door. Once outside they returned to the black SUV left to them by the ambassador. Ella took the wheel, indicating she was more familiar with the Benghazi streets than Mac. He offered no protest, silently taking his place in the passenger seat.

  Halfway back to Ella’s office, Mac attempted to start a conversation.

  “Look, that stuff about Dasha, I didn’t think---“

  Ella cut Mac off, her voice abrupt, though her face again unreadable.

  “Who you choose to sleep with, Mr. Walker however ill advised that choice might be, is no business of mine. I don’t care to hear of the details though, so if you don’t mind, please drop the subject.”

  Mac Walker knew, among other things, survival, chaos, weapons, blood, pain, fear, but through all that learning, he would be the first to admit, he didn’t know shit about women. They were an ever changing complication that remained a seemingly unending mystery to him.

  XXV.

  Jack met Mac at the entrance to Ella’s office. The look on his face suggested trouble of some sort, making Mac worry over the safety of Minnick and Benny, who had been left at the safe house.

  “What it is?”

  Jack looked over at Ella and then motioned for Mac to follow him inside. Jack was on edge again, glancing back behind him as Ella closed the entrance door.

  “I spoke with Minnick about twenty minutes ago. There has been double the traffic going into that compound. Lots of those big U.N. transport trucks. That’s not what’s got them spooked though – there were about ten guys walking outside the compound. A few of them were definitely armed, and at least one of them was taking pictures. This went on for about an hour, and then they jumped back into their vehicles and took off. Before they left though, a couple of them walked across the road and were looking right at the safe house and taking more pictures.

  “It was recon work Mac. A shitty, overly obvious Libyan militant version of it, but that’s what it was. Minnick and Benny think the same. Somebody is planning to move against that compound, and it seems like they suspect they’re being watched from the safe house. We need to pull Minnick and Benny the hell out of there like right now. I’ll go pick them up myself if I have to.”

  Mac offered no disagreement. He had already intended to drive out and get Minnick and Benny already.

  “We’ll both go, Jack. Pick them up and bring them back here where we’ll wait out the night and then I got us a flight out of here first thing in the morning.”

  Jack’s eyes widened slightly. He appeared hopeful for the first time in a long time.

  “Danton check out ok? He can be trusted?”

  Mac nodded.

  “Yeah, I think so. He’s an odd one, but seems to know his way around this shithole well enough. He has a 9:00 set up for the four of us, take us to the Ivory Coast and then we catch an Air France flight back to the States. Figure we leave here tomorrow no later than 8:00 a.m.”

  Jack offered Mac a genuine smile.

  “Best damn news I’ve heard since we got here.”

  Ella walked up to Mac and Jack, her arms folded across her chest.

  “So you two will be driving back out to your safe house then?”

  Mac nodded.

  “Yeah, gonna leave right now. Be back here within the hour, that is, if you don’t mind us staying here overnight?”

  Ella gave Mac a slight smile and shrugged.

  “That will be fine, Mr. Walker. You and your men are welcome to stay with us tonight.”

  After calling Minnick and Benny to let them know they were coming to get them, the drive out to the safe house took less than twenty minutes, due in great part to Jack’s penchant for pushing the Hummer to its limit at every opportunity. During one stretch of desert road where the massive SUV neared almost a hundred miles an hour, Jack turned to Mac and grinned widely.

  “Drive it like I stole it, man!”

  Mac laughed, even as his knuckles turned white from his tightening grip on the dashboard.

  “You did steal it Alabama.”

  Soon Jack was driving the Hummer past the gated entrance of the safe house, both he and Mac already holding their handguns at the ready in case of any trouble. Before they reached the entrance steps, Minnick and Benny were outside, both carrying sniper rifles on their backs, and several boxes of ammunition stuffed into their pockets.

  Benny clapped Mac’s shoulder as he moved quickly past him toward the Hummer.

  “Glad to see you. Things are getting weird around here, Mac. Time to go, time to go!”


  Mac’s phone began vibrating in his coat pocket. The number indicated it was Stephen Mardian.

  “Hello, Mr. Walker. I have further instructions for you.”

  Mac noted the strain in Mardian’s voice. Something was wrong.

  “Are you there, Mac?”

  “I’m here, Mardian what are the instructions?”

  Mardian paused as Mac detected the sound of a brief scuffle coming over the phone. Someone was there with Mardian.