The Team

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The Team Page 15

by David M. Salkin


  * * *

  The EOD squad was wearing gas masks along with their regular extra heavy bomb- resistant Kevlar and ceramic plates. They had carefully opened the doors of the vehicle and were looking for detonators and trigger devices. The driver was very dead, with his head blown all over the inside of the car. One of the EODs, who had opened the passenger door, had just spotted the detonator near the driver’s hand when a cell phone rang. The two EODs inside the car closed their eyes and waited to die.

  It rang again. And a third time.

  “What the fuck?” asked the nervous EOD.

  The Senior EOD1, who was hunched over the driver, stared with wide eyes at the phone. “I think the hajji’s getting a regular phone call.” He laughed nervously.

  The other EOD, sweat running down his legs and into his boots, said, “I’m sorry, Hajji can’t come to the phone right now. His head’s blown off. Please leave your name and number, and he’ll call you from Hell.”

  “Take the phone. Give it to the Major. G2s gonna want to take a look.”

  The EOD gingerly took the phone and stepped back from the car. He held it up and showed another EOD, who quickly moved forward and took it from him. “It’s not a detonator. It just rang.”

  The EOD took the phone and jogged it back to the lieutenant who was overseeing the explosives ordnance disposal team. Cascaes was nearby and saw the exchange. He jogged over to the lieutenant.

  “Excuse me, Lieutenant. I’m Special Operations, I need to see that phone,” said Cascaes.

  The lieutenant looked at the stranger in civilian clothes like he had three heads. “Back up, son, we’re in the middle of trying to take a bomb apart.”

  “I need the phone. The Director of the CIA and the Chairman of the Joint Chiefs know I’m here, and I need that phone. I’m Senior Chief Chris Cascaes. You tell him that. Now, you can hand it to me, or I can shoot you.” He was glaring at the lieutenant, and although he wasn’t pointing his weapon, it was in his hands. “Call whoever you need to call, and hand me the god damned phone, lieutenant.”

  The lieutenant face was red with anger. He handed the phone to Cascaes and pulled his radio off his belt to call the base commander. Cascaes didn’t stick around to listen. He jogged back to his team, who had reassembled to watch the EOD team work on the car that Hodges had stopped.

  Cascaes pulled up the recent calls on the phone and then used his own phone to call Dex Murphy who picked it up immediately.

  “Dex, I’m going to read off a phone number. It was an incoming number to a cell phone we just took off a dead bomber at the base. Maybe you can get a GPS on the phone.”

  “Outstanding, read it to me.”

  Cascaes gave Dex the number, and Dex hung up and started making phone calls.

  Chapter 42

  It had been a frantic few minutes of calls between Langley, Cascaes, base commanders, and flight crews. When it was settled, Cascaes grabbed Moose and relayed the latest orders.

  “Here’s the deal. Whoever called the bomber that Hodges took out is heading out of the area on Route 5. We have his cell phone GPS. I want you to grab a couple of men and hop a Black Hawk to that location. We want him alive, Moose. You bring his ass back here and we find them all. You copy?”

  “Roger that, Skipper. I’ll take Ripper and Hodges. I’ll bring him back.”

  “Alive, Moose!”

  “Yes, sir,” he snapped, and then ran off to tell Ripper and Hodges.

  * * *

  Abdul was racing down the desert highway towards the border. With the base attack successful, border security might be tougher. His passport was forged, and his alias wouldn’t raise any suspicion, but still he was worried. He turned on the car radio and listened to Al Jazeera, hoping to hear news of the attacks. It was regular programming. Abdul cursed under his breath.

  Why hadn’t the Sarin bombs gone off? They had tested the prototypes and they had worked every time. What had gone wrong?

  * * *

  High overhead, thirty miles away, an EA-6B Prowler circled the airspace over the stadium, jamming all frequencies. The pilot received an incoming transmission from the airbase.

  “Big Dog, this is Downtown. I have a message for your second seat, over.”

  The pilot looked over at Mackey in the second seat.

  “Downtown, second seat is ears on, go ahead with your message, over.”

  Mackey listened intently.

  “Just took a call from the Virginia Company. A cell phone recovered by EOD gave a number and GPS location of a target. There’s a small team en route to intercept. Security at the stadium has been alerted and the rest of the team is en route. Continue all electronic countermeasures. Over.”

  The pilot looked at Mackey. “That mean something to you? We’re supposed to stay here on station.”

  “Yeah. Listen, the same group that attacked Al Udeid tried to hit the stadium. If our guys grabbed a phone off a dead bomber, it means they may be able to trace it back to the caller. But the stadium still has whatever Sarin bomb they hid in there. You just keeping jamming everything. My team is heading over to help the locals.”

  The team had been ordered by Dex to head over to the stadium. With the base threat resolved, and the stadium attack imminent, the Joint Chiefs had convinced the President to send in the team. Three of the base EODs were still working on the last car bomb, but there were three others on the base and two of them had bomb dogs.

  An EA-6B Prowler and a Black Hawk helicopter roared off after the GPS coordinates gleaned from the phone number. As long as the phone stayed on, the Prowler and Black Hawk would find it. In the rear of the helicopter, Moose, Ripper, and Hodges rechecked weapons and discussed how they would take down the car without killing the occupant.

  The rest of the team, now accompanied by the two EODs with their K9 partners, were in a Blackhawk helicopter roaring over the desert towards the stadium.

  “Who are you guys?” asked the Senior EOD, a dog handler named Mark Franklin.

  Cascaes played it as straight as he could. “Senior Chief Chris Cascaes. We’re Special Operations and we were never here, you copy? We need you and your dogs. All you need to know is that we’re good at what we do, and we need you to be good at what you do.”

  Franklin nodded and extended a hand. “Mark Franklin, and that’s Jeff Krekeler. Our K9s are the best. If there’s a bomb in the stadium, we’ll find it. The only problem is, it’s a big stadium, and there’s only two of us. What are we looking for? Any idea?”

  “That’s the problem. We don’t know. We have a Prowler from the base running countermeasures. If it’s an electronic detonator, we’re safe. If there’s someone inside holding a trigger, we’re fucked. We’re assuming it’s a bomb to detonate Sarin gas into the crowd. That means dispersal. The stadium is climate controlled, so maybe we check around the chillers first. Getting it into the air vents is a good way to get it into the air. Other than that, I don’t have any good guesses. The stuff works best when detonated from above and allowed to rain down like a mist. I think we start the search from the top of the stadium at the chillers and work our way down.”

  “Roger that. Damn. Sarin? Are they evacuating the stadium?” asked Franklin.

  “Negative. We still don’t have one-hundred percent proof the attack is even going down here, and even if we did—if we start evacuating, maybe they detonate as soon as they realize we’re on to them. We need to find the bomb and kill the bomber. Oh, and try and hold your breath if things go south.”

  “That’s great, thanks.”

  The Black Hawk banked hard and the pilot’s voice came over the speakers. “Time to LZ sixty seconds.”

  Jon yelled over to Cascaes inside the loud aircraft. “Hey, Skipper, the security at the stadium know we’re inbound?”

  “I sure hope so. The last thing we need is the good guys shooting at us.�
��

  Chapter 43

  Abdul Aziz called ahead to a safe house in Saudi Arabia outside of Riyadh where other members of the New Wahhabi Jihad were staying. He notified his contact that he would be there before sunup and asked if there was any news about the American airbase or the soccer game in Qatar. His contact, a man named Rafika, told him that the American airbase had been attacked, and two American Marines had been killed, but that was all he had heard. The would-be bombers had all been killed. When Abdul heard that, his face turned purple with rage.

  “Two? Two Americans? They’re lying! They’re covering up the truth! There must be hundreds—thousands dead!” He was screaming into the phone.

  “I don’t know,” said Rafika, fear in his voice.

  * * *

  High overhead, the ECM officer in the rear of the Prowler spoke to the pilot. “Captain, I have confirmation on that GPS coordinate. There’s a phone call in progress. Looks like the target is still on Highway 5 headed for the border. Time to target two minutes.”

  “Roger that, I’ll notify Hunter One. Light up the target.”

  The ECM officer pressed a few buttons and pinpointed the target vehicle with laser guidance. “Target is painted.”

  “Hunter One, this is Moon Dog Five. We have painted your target. Highway 5, heading southwest. Over.”

  “Roger, Moon Dog Five. We have the target. Acquiring visual, over.”

  * * *

  Abdul continued his rant in the car as he drove. It wasn’t Rafika’s fault the news hadn’t been made public yet, but he flinched with every curse and insult that Abdul shouted.

  * * *

  “Moon Dog Five, we have visual confirmation at this time. Vehicle is driving south east on Highway 5. Looks like one occupant. Over.”

  “Roger, Hunter One. We’re jamming and his cell phone won’t function. Take down the target.”

  “Roger, Moon Dog Five. Time to target, twenty seconds.”

  * * *

  Rafika tried his best to calm Abdul. “The Americans are just embarrassed, Abdul. The truth will come out soon. Hello? Abdul?” The phone had gone dead, compliments of the Moon Dog overhead.

  Abdul was still screaming at Rafika when his phone stopped working.

  * * *

  The crew chief was listening to his pilot, and yelled over to Moose, Ripper, and Hodges. “Okay, boys—we’re here. Target is the silver Mercedes below. There’s not another car for miles. How do you want to do this?”

  Moose yelled back, “Ask the pilot to move us out to the side a bit and pull even with the car. Our sniper is going to stop the engine, and when I tell you, I need your pilot to put us down right over the car. We’re going to rope out, grab this hajji, and get right back on the bird. Then we haul ass back to base.”

  The crew chief explained back to the pilot, who banked right and increased speed to pull into a blind spot over the car below. The helicopter pilot kept their position steady, and Ripper slid the side door open. Hodges leaned against the door frame with his sniper rifle.

  “That’s it. Keep holding steady,” the crew chief told the pilot.

  They hovered.

  A single loud gunshot echoed through the aircraft, and the .338 Lapua round blasted through the engine block. Hodges chambered another round and hit it again. Smoke billowed from the engine, and the car rapidly slowed down.

  Inside the car, it took Abdul a moment to realize what had happened. First, his cell phone had stopped working, and then a loud BANG and his car was shuddering. Now, a second loud explosion and his engine was steaming and smoking as his dashboard lights all came on. He lost his steering and fought hard against the car, pulling it to the side of the road.

  By the time Abdul’s car came to a full stop, a giant black helicopter blocked out his view of everything through his windshield. Abdul was horrified. What was happening? As his brain tried to catch up with impossible events, two giant human beings dropped to the ground from ropes that appeared on both sides of his smoldering car. He stared in disbelief at the man next to his window as the window on the passenger side exploded.

  Ripper use the butt of his assault rifle to smash the window and reach in to open the door. Moose held his assault rifle pointed right at Abdul’s terrified face. Ripper hit the unlock button on his now-open door, and as soon as Moose heard it click, he pulled the driver-side door open and slammed his hand into Abdul’s throat. Abdul’s eyes went very wide as he choked and lost his breath. Before he knew what was happening, Moose had pulled him out of the car, face-down on the blistering hot asphalt. Ripper hopped over the smoking hood and dropped down next to them, pulling plastic zip-ties, which he used to secure Abdul’s wrists behind his back. They pulled the gasping man to his feet and dragged him quickly to the Black Hawk, which had spun around and landed on the road for their exit. They pushed Abdul inside, where Hodges slammed him against the metal floor. Ripper hopped up and sat on him as Moose jumped in and pulled the door closed behind. The crew chief told the pilot they were ready, and the bird tilted forward and lifted off the ground, banking hard towards the base.

  Moose photographed the stunned Abdul Aziz while Ripper scanned his fingerprints. Before they had travelled five miles, Abdul Aziz’s information had been sent to Dex Murphy in Langley.

  Moose radioed Cascaes, “Package is safe and secure. Heading back to base, out.”

  A lone silver Mercedes sat smoking on the empty highway.

  Chapter 44

  Stadium

  The Black Hawk touched down outside the stadium in the parking lot and the team jumped out, the dogs trotting alongside their handlers. Two Qatari Army soldiers watched in shock as the team jogged towards them. They looked to each other for guidance, but had no idea what to do.

  Cascaes screamed at the two men as they ran towards them. “You speak English?”

  One of the men nodded. “Little,” he said in a heavy accent.

  Cascaes cursed under his breath. “Bomb! You understand?”

  The man looked at him blankly.

  “Ka-Boom!” screamed Cascaes, pointing at the stadium, and then at the dogs. “Dogs look for Ka-Boom!”

  The two men shouted back and forth in Arabic for a few seconds. They then began running towards the stadium, motioning the team to follow them. The group sprinted to the entrance, the Qatari men screaming at everyone they saw until one soldier finally ran to Cascaes. “I speak English. What’s going on?”

  Cascaes looked at the man’s uniform. He appeared to be some kind of officer. “We have intelligence that there may be a bomb inside, armed with Sarin gas. We need to get to the chillers upstairs.” The officer yelled back in Arabic for the two men to bring the team upstairs. They raced off to the escalators, the officer watching them go. As soon as they were out of sight, he began walking quickly out of the stadium. Whatever he was being paid wasn’t enough to be blown up with a Sarin bomb.

  The team ran up the escalator to the first level and then again to the second level. Cascaes looked around for the officer, but he was nowhere to be found. Cascaes did his best to explain that he was looking for the air-conditioning system, but was getting nowhere. EOD Franklin spoke up. “Hey! Tucker’s got something!” The large black shepherd was sniffing the air and the ground. He was obviously getting the scent of something.

  “Work, Tucker! Work!” yelled Franklin.

  The dog began pulling him inside the stadium and the other dog began whining. The other handler spoke to his partner as well. “Good boy, Cody. Get to work.”

  Both handlers followed their dogs into the stadium where tens of thousands of fans were screaming as Manchester United kicked a goal into the top right corner of the net. The fans were on their feet as the team entered the top of the second tier of seats. The dogs pulled at their leashes and the handlers spoke to each other.

  “I’m taking him off lead. Work, Tu
cker!” he commanded as he unsnapped the leash from the dog’s collar. The other handler did the same thing, and the two large dogs ran down the steps towards a food vendor. Fans on the aisle seats who saw the dogs running down the stairs spun around to see where they came from. They were even more surprised to see commandos with assault rifles coming down behind the dogs.

  The dogs raced to the food vendor and stopped, barking at the man’s food container.

  “You gotta be shittin’ me,” said Moose. “Dog wants a hotdog?”

  The food vendor’s turned white when he saw the dogs. He dropped the box and began fighting his way through the seats to exit the other side of the section. Moose saw him and yelled behind him to the team members coming down the stairs. He pointed to the other aisle and screamed, “Go around the other side!”

  Four of the men turned and ran back up the stairs to head him off on the other side. The dogs sat and stared at the box, ignoring the nuts and dried fruit that had spilled all over the stairs. They were totally focused on the aluminum box.

  “Good find!” said Franklin, as he knelt down and patted his dog’s shoulder. He looked up at Cascaes, who was now standing over him. “What do you want me to do? I can look inside it here, but we need to get these people out of here.”

  “No, let’s get it out of here,” said Cascaes. The EOD picked up the box carefully and began walking up the stairs with it, the dogs close behind. The fans were now watching closely, and began asking questions. They were told to remain calm, and stay where they were.

  As soon as the team had gotten to the top of the stairs with the box, they quickly moved away from the crowd to an outside area farther away that overlooked the parking lot. The dogs both began sniffing the air again and pacing around nervously.

 

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