Sam really wished he could just phone his brother and tell him to come to him, but he couldn’t. If anything happened to them, he’d never forgive himself. All it took was the tiniest slip-up at a gas station or a restroom, and they’d be dead. With no option but to go get him, he had run through the routes with Rebecca. Driving was out, too long. The train, likewise. That only left airplanes which, considering everything he had done, was not going to be the easiest form of transport, nor the safest.
Rebecca made a call. It was going to get her into a lot of trouble, but if it paid off, it would be fine. If not, she may be paying the state of Israel back for many years to come. Hiring private jets was not going to please the Accounts Department.
They grabbed their kit. Of course, another reason to justify the additional expense, around $25,000, was the benefit of keeping hold of their $1,200’s worth of weaponry. Forty minutes later, they pulled into the parking lot of Manassas Regional Airport, and avoiding any type of scanner or camera equipment, they boarded their waiting Learjet 45XR for the four-hour flight to Glacier Park. As the stewardess offered them champagne for the flight, Rebecca checked if it was an additional cost. It was. They drank water. And she added that to her list of justifications.
Just after lunch, they landed, picked up the Camry from the parking lot, and drove to the lodge.
***
The second they turned off the main road and entered the grounds of the lodge, they became targets. At least in the eyes of the Avenger’s operator. The drone was stationed almost 30,000 feet above, maintaining a constant visual on the property below. It had replaced the satellite surveillance just two hours earlier, and was the same unit previously used by Johnson’s team to obliterate an empty cabin. It still had almost eighteen hours left in its tanks, but with the assault team due in the next two hours, it was extremely unlikely to need a replacement.
***
Sam was delighted to see his brother and quickly updated him on where they had been and how the Alibi Club may have a glut of new members joining in the near future. Once they had brought them up to speed, Sam pulled out the comic book and explained his theory to the Secretary of Defense. James studied the drawing carefully, he had heard of it, but it was well before his time. However, he knew a few people in England who may be able to help. He also considered calling some of his own men but after discussion, they agreed it just wasn’t worth the risk. They really did not know who they could trust, money and power talked, and it seemed that the President and his cronies had an abundance of both.
With leads that required a few calls to Russia, James cracked on. The comic might be correct after all. So far, things were adding up factually and had Deif searched similarly, he would have made the same links. It was all out there, as James proffered more than once. As darkness fell, James’ progress slowed down. Across the world, it was the middle of the night, but he carried on relentlessly. Numerous angry calls later, and they had a breakthrough. The owner of a small shipyard in Russia had sold an item like that, a few months earlier.
The owner went to get his records. He had the name of the ship somewhere. And eventually, James Murphy jumped up and down with excitement.
“I’ve got it! I’ve found the ship!”
As the others jumped up to congratulate him, Sam dove, pulling his brother and Rebecca with him to the floor.
The first bullet flew through the window and entered Secretary of Defense James Murphy’s open mouth, a fraction of a second before it took off the back of his head with it.
Chapter 78
Ben Meir checked his watch as he paused for breath. He had not stopped talking for almost two hours. Ahmed Hameed sat open-mouthed before him.
“So Ahmed, my friend,” offered Ben. “Do you want to be a hero?!”
As far as Ben could see, that’s what it came down to. Ahmed could be a hero or a villain. The spoils, in this case, were very much for the hero’s taking. The villain would gain nothing and could lose everything. Of course, one major hurdle had to be overcome, for any of this to matter. Ahmed Hameed had to believe Ben Meir. The Palestinian terrorist would have to trust the Israeli strategist. It was a lot to ask.
Ahmed said nothing. He just looked at Ben and tried to gauge him. Ahmed Hameed prided himself on his ability to read people. That was how he had got to where he was.
“I must go now. I suppose tomorrow night, at midnight, I will have your answer,” proposed Ben.
“I repeat what I have said to you many times, Ben Meir. I do not have full control, everything is compartmentalized. My answer may not give you everything you want, only partially.”
“Then I have wasted your time with my story. I should have sought another,” offered Ben, knowing it would elicit a reaction.
Ahmed rose to the challenge. “You came to the right man, Ben Meir. You know you did. But even if I did choose to believe you and go with your plan, my network stops at the beach.”
“I know, I know. Whatever happens, it has been a pleasure.” Ben shook Ahmed’s hand and drove back to the border gates, his head held just a little further forward than he would normally have it. But the anticipation was unwarranted. The gates slammed closed behind him.
Like Daniel, he had entered the lion’s den and survived. One den down, one to go.
The short flight to Nevatim air force base took thirty minutes, and the striking Rockwelll B1-R Lancer stood, ready for take-off. Looking more like an over-sized fighter jet than a strategic bomber, it was of a similar size to a Boeing 757 and even older. However, the B1-R was almost entirely rebuilt with new engines, avionics, and weapon systems. Pretty much everything but the skin was new. It was also taking on a slightly more appropriate role and was looking to become a fighter bomber with the addition of air to air weaponry. Its massive range and ability to cruise like a Concorde, was going to make it a very interesting addition to the US arsenal. In the meantime, it was also going to get Ben and his two bodyguards to America before they even left.
The American Colonel welcomed Ben on board and wasted no time, in kicking the engines to life and hurtling them off the runway and into the sky. They were supersonic soon after, and with only his thoughts and the sound of four Pratt & Whitney P119 engines between him and America, Ben put his head back and fell asleep.
Chapter 79
Preston waited for the Situation Room to empty after the third National Security Council meeting of the day. They still were no nearer to tracking the nuclear weapon, and the mood of the President was deteriorating quickly. The President had been in meetings with his campaign manager, prior to the NSC meeting, and he had pointed out clearly and succinctly to the president, that if he didn’t stop the bomb, it would stop his campaign dead in the water.
“Mr. President, could I have a minute, please?”
“Not now, Henry, I need to get going,” he replied picking up his papers.
“Mr. President, I really think you will want to see this,” replied Henry intriguingly.
Henry Preston ushered the rest of the NSC attendees from the room and closed the door, locking it for good measure, which elicited a look of surprise from the President.
“Trust me, sir, you won’t want to be disturbed!”
Preston hit the screen remote and the large screen ahead of the President burst into light. The grainy overview of a mountainside some 2,300 miles away quickly came into focus. The President could see the roof of a house and ten small green blips surrounded it, five to the front and five to the rear.
Preston hit another button and the sound of men talking could be heard.
“Sniper One, I still have the shot. I repeat, I still have the shot.”
“Sniper One, Team Leader, confirm target, over?”
“Male, mid-fifties.”
“Hold, Sniper One. We are awaiting the go command.”
Preston looked towards the President as the scene before him began to make sense.
“You found him?” the President asked elated, wanting to jump up and hug Preston.
>
Preston nodded and indicated back towards the screen. They were waiting for him to give the go.
The president nodded vociferously, Preston pressed down the intercom button. “Team Leader, you have a go. I repeat, Go, Go, Go.”
The President listened as Sniper One was told to fire and a few seconds later, the screen flashed into life as flashbangs were thrown into the lodge.
“Target down, kill, kill, kill,” said Sniper One, confirming a hit.
Two blips stayed where they were, while the other eight began to converge on the house.
***
Sam had noticed a movement in the corner of his eye and had reacted. Rebecca and his brother stood in front of him, and he took them down as he dived for cover. As the back of Murphy’s head exploded, the house was plunged into darkness. A second later, bright flashes were followed by waves of pressure as the flashbangs came from three different directions.
The front door crashed open and the main window behind them shattered as four soldiers rushed in.
Sam sucked up the flashbang and grabbed for his MP5 which lay on the side table, throwing his Sig to Rebecca as he moved. The first two men through the front door took a full magazine from the MP5 as Sam struggled to aim. He just pointed and pulled the trigger. Rebecca, like Sam in many ways, remained cool under fire, and as the two soldiers shot out the window and charged through, under cover of the flashbang, she swung round, caught the pistol that Sam had thrown, and shot the two soldiers the only way she knew how, dead.
Clark was in the kitchen with Mrs. Baker when the flashbangs came careening into the lodge. Clark didn’t even think about her movements, instinct took over, and she pulled Mrs. Baker behind her, leveling her weapon at the door to the kitchen. Whoever came through it, she’d shoot first and ask questions later. Unfortunately for Clark, she could not cover all of the windows as well as the door, and certainly could not protect against the sniper, one hundred yards out in a darkened wood.
***
“Team Leader. Two down, I repeat, two down.”
“Team Leader. Two down at rear also. I repeat, two down.”
The team leader was furious. His info was that a bunch of terrorists were in the house, that required to be eliminated with extreme prejudice. Terrorists, in his experience, did not react like that to flash bangs. Flash bangs usually allowed two or three seconds to get into a room and clear it. He was against highly trained and skilled operatives, that was not the remit. He would have never gone for a full on assault, had he known.
“Team Leader, this is Sniper Two. I have a target, female around thirty, holding a weapon.”
“Take her down.”
Chapter 80
Ben stepped off the aircraft, refreshed and ready to go, despite the fact, that he had lengthened the day by seven hours. The sun was just dipping behind the mountains as his car arrived to pick him up from the terminal building. It was a thirty-minute drive and Ben soaked in the American air and atmosphere. He had always loved America. The openness and size was vast in comparison to Israel. As they pulled into the driveway, the darkness was complete. Only the road was lit up ahead. The massive trees, which were older than the country itself, thought Ben, seemed to stretch to the stars. It was a cloudless night and the stars sparkled brightly in the deep black sky.
A series of bright flashes, soon brought Ben back to earth. His bodyguards knew small explosions when they saw them. They slammed on the brakes and threw the car into reverse. Their job was to keep Ben Meir out of danger, not drive him towards it.
“Stop!” screamed Ben.
The car ground to a halt.
“We have fellow Israelis in that house. We’re helping, not running!” Ben left no room for doubt in his tone. The car was thrown back into drive and the car surged forward.
“Stop!” screamed Ben. The car skidded to a halt.
The two guards turned and looked at him.
“Perhaps a more subtle approach?” suggested Ben, opening the car door and heading into the trees in the direction of the house. His two bodyguards were by his side, in an instant. One handed him a pistol before raising his Uzi and leading off quickly and silently through the woods. Flashes were followed by the sound of gunfire as they neared the clearing that led down to the house below.
***
Over two thousand miles away, it was the President who first spotted the new arrivals. He pointed to the screen.
“What’s that, Henry? Looks like two beams of light, jerking about. Oh, they’ve just gone.”
“Headlights, Mr. President!”
Henry hit the transmit button. “Team Leader, you have new targets to your rear.”
“You have got to be kidding me!” screamed the Team Leader in frustration. He knew there was at least a five-second delay on the video feed. What appeared now on screen was history.
“Sniper Two?”
“Sniper Two, come in? This is Team Leader.”
“Team Leader, Sniper Two will not be playing anymore!” came the response.
“Shit!!” he screamed. He had not signed up for a suicide mission. “Pull out!” he screamed. He had already lost five men.
***
Ben dropped the headset and sent his men forward. He’d had enough excitement for an old man, and he’d just get in the way.
His two men broke cover and ran towards the house. Two soldiers in full gear ran towards them. The Israelis did not have to double-take. They shot a hail of rounds from their Uzis and cut them down, without breaking stride. Rebecca heard the familiar clatter of the Uzi and grabbed Sam, as the two young Israelis ran into the house.
“Shalom!” shouted Rebecca as they looked ready to fire.
“Shalom,” they replied, not lowering their weapons.
Whoever they were, they meant business.
As one kept an eye on the room, the other walked back to the door and waved. A minute later, Ben Meir was being hugged by his very grateful goddaughter, and being introduced to Sam and Charles Baker. He was also learning of another old friend’s demise.
Chapter 81
Looking across the docks, Saul knew something was very wrong indeed. For the last two days, the procession of ships arriving at the port had begun to slow. It wasn’t that they were moving back to almost normal levels, it was the fact that nothing was coming in. Everything seemed to be going out. The yards that had been a permanent mountain of cargo containers were almost empty. Each ship that docked, left with more than it had brought in and in the last few hours, nearly every ship was empty as it came into port, but left bulging at the seams.
He locked up the office and looked at the board for the next day’s arrivals. Nothing beyond 12:00, noon. No surprise, as it was the beginning of Yom Kippur. The next day, Saturday, no arrivals. Again, no surprise as it was a national holiday, but beyond that, there was still nothing. Nothing, the docks were emptying and no new boats were due in. Saul Weisfield had no other skills. He had heard how hard the recession had hit around the world, but up until then, they had been busier than ever. He was not going without a fight. They could, at least, have told him they were shutting down the yard, he thought, as he walked towards the Port Director’s office.
“Paul, what the hell is this? Could you not just tell us that we were closing?!” Saul had known the Port Director personally for many, many years, and threw the arrivals list on his desk.
Paul looked down at the list, and suddenly realized what Saul was talking about. He knew nothing of the company closing down.
“Ah, sorry, I’ve just not put up the new list. There’s no big conspiracy!” he offered genuinely.
“But, the place is empty?”
“I’m told they’re just having a big clearout.”
Saul left the office a few minutes later, thoroughly unconvinced. He couldn’t help but notice how quiet the roads were. Perhaps it all made sense. However, when he arrived home, he found his wife packing up their house.
Chapter 82
Ben had given
the pilot two destinations. On arrival at the first, everyone, except for him, would disembark and he would travel alone to the second one. Ben Meir waited at the gates of the White House to be allowed in. Access, however, was not forthcoming.
“Have you told the President my name?” he asked again.
“Yes, Mr. Meir, but the answer I keep getting is that the President is in bed and is not to be disturbed. It is 11:30pm, you know.”
Ben tried his cell phone again, but President Russell was not picking up.
“Listen, young man,” Ben leant forward towards the guard who had kept watch on the gate for forty years, and who recognized Ben very well. “Tell that little shit to let me in, or I’ll hold a press conference, on this lawn, right here, in five minutes.”
The guard could of course, do no such thing, but he could call the President’s office and tell them what Ben Meir had said, which he did.
Four minutes and forty seconds later, a call came back to the gate house.
“Welcome to the White House, Mr. Meir,” offered the guard as he opened the gate.
Ben rushed towards the Oval Office and spent the next thirty minutes telling President Andrew Russell more than a few home truths. Russell was apoplectic that anyone dared talk to him in such a manner, and promptly had Ben escorted from the White House.
All in all, it had not gone well. Ben was in no position to strong-arm Russell. He needed Russell, and Russell knew it. The only piece of good news was that Russell had instantly reacted to the news about the bomb. It seemed, he had finally realized that the threat was a genuine one.
Ben kicked himself. He could have played it far better. Russell was malleable, you just had to do it carefully. Ben’s temper had not allowed any give. Seeing James Murphy’s almost decapitated body, had not brought out the best in him. America would have to wait. He had his own country to save.
ALL ACTION THRILLER BOXSET: THREE MURRAY MCDONALD STANDALONE THRILLERS Page 63