“Well bloody hell, Anne. She’s out and about most days kicking ass somewhere with Van Meer and his crew. George took his first steps a few days ago, and she missed them.”
“They’re team building. Isn’t that raid coming up soon?”
“In little over a month, you’d think Arthur would send someone else.”
“Think about that. She’s a warrior. You can’t lock up a warrior and make her a socialite. In fact, she’ll go every chance she gets. The only way to keep her here is to keep her pregnant.”
“That shouldn’t be too hard.”
“She decides when she decides, and she hasn’t decided.” Anne leaned close and licked his ear. “And it needs to be hard, ole boy.”
#
Abbas Kazhili slipped away from his companions as the moon rose over the coastline of the Caspian Sea near Gorgan. He powered on his Global Realm cellphone and huddled behind an eroding mound of earth, looking out over the water. “The palace location is a decoy. The meeting will be in the mountains north and west of Mashhad.”
“Do you have a specific place?”
“No, you’ll have to track me by my cell signal.”
“Any idea why the change of plans?”
Abbas sighed, “They’re paranoid. They believe the First Citizen knows of their plans. So they keep changing them.”
“Someone new must be advising him. Don’t contact us again. Remove the tracking device from your cell and secure it on your person. We’ll strike at the appointed time wherever you are.”
“Roger that.” They’ll strike wherever I am, he thought. Abbas, what are you doing? Yes, you’re making yourself a walking target. Surely the First Citizen will send a force of superheroes to destroy his enemies and rescue Abbas, his faithful servant, or maybe not.
He lingered for a while admiring the beauty of the earth. Then as quickly as he came, he left.
#
“I’ll be gone for quite a while,” Peacock said.
The night had settled in, and she rocked George tenderly in her arms.
“That al-Sistani thing,” Pendleton asked.
“Better for you that you don’t know where or what I’m doing, unless Van Meer tells you.”
“Probably for the better,” Pendleton said. “I’ll worry all the more knowing what danger you’re in.”
She nuzzled her eighteen-month old in her arms and wondered at the speed by which this new world was forming. The brutal way the rioters met their deaths confirmed the government’s message. The Global Realm rewarded loyalty. Disobedience wasn’t tolerated. Only a few dire enemies remained. Fanatics like al-Sistani were all that stood between a world at peace and a world divided. Her role was to eliminate her husband’s enemies. Peacock rose, carried her sleeping child to his crib, and settled him in for the night. “I thought when I return we might try for another—child I mean.”
Pendleton peered over top the papers he was studying. “As you desire, my love,” he said. “I’m ready, willing, and still able.”
“Don’t make light of this. We’ve not talked about children much. I do need to know your wishes.”
“I wish for you to be happy. However, I don’t want a brood running about. A little girl would be nice.”
“Well, I can’t predict the sex.”
Pendleton put down his papers, and she knew she had his attention. She loved that trait, the ability he had to read her emotions. “I’m all for another child. If you want to know my preferences, I think three are enough. That gives us two shots at a girl.” He paused a nervous moment. “To be honest, the pressure of being a Pendleton is not something I wish on anyone. I look at George and wonder if he will hold up under the weight.”
“Relax darling, and reassess. He’ll be raise like any Global citizen. He’ll be educated, evaluated, and grow into his calling whatever that calling will be. The pressure will come only if you place it upon him.”
Her husband pursed his lips. “I know you’re right. The pressure of being a Pendleton will come from me. I’ll have to curb my desire to raise a successor to the throne so to speak.”
Peacock often daydreamed about the talent their children would possess. However, she never put a name to that talent. She and Arthur’s children would simply be exceptional. “And if George became the first man to set foot on Mars instead?”
“Ah, I see. I’m not to choose the path. I’m only to provide the environment for success.”
“Like you are for every obedient citizen of the Realm,” Peacock answered, and her words struck home inside her. She believed in the ideals of the Global Realm now that she was a part of it. When she returned from her assignment, she’d work to become pregnant again.
Chapter 40
Abbas Kazhili followed his friends up a winding trail into the forest halfway up Mount Binalud. Most of his companions were wiry, strong men with dark piercing eyes. Twelve of them had strained for hours slowly trudging upwards. However, now the slope lessened and a semi-level area came into view. Abbas could see several paths running northward parallel to the one where he was. Finally, a clearing appeared as the trees thinned. Yet even at midday, the dusky filtered light hid the forms and faces of the ghost-like figures in the distance.
“Allah Akbar,” a cry went up.
“Allah Akbar,” he and those in his party responded.
Abbas counted over one-hundred individuals as he ambled about the encampment. This could not be al-Sistani’s base. No women or children were present. His role was as an interpreter, clarifying the meanings between the slight dialect differences of the people. One would not wish to have a misunderstanding of words spoken in Farsi and interpreted in Dari or Tajik.
He was not a leader. That fact alone made him an ideal individual to infiltrate the gathering of militants. Born in Tabriz, but educated in London, Abbas had long worked undercover for the Sons of Tiw. Once comfortably positioned on the edge of the encampment, he placed the tracking chip at the base of a tree and covered it with a layer of dirt and leaves.
At least I’m not personally a target anymore, only a humble casualty if someone takes poor aim.
He breathed in the fresh, clean air. The signal would attract the Global Realm’s forces to the meeting place, and no one would finger him as the spy. One of al-Sistani’s followers strolled up to him with a young man wearing a blue flowing tunic and blue pants. The young man carried an automatic weapon with an ammunition belt around his waist.
“This is Ammad, our leader’s oldest son.”
Abbas embraced the young man.
“My father wishes you to accompany me,” Ammad said. “He wishes to instruct you on your duties when the meeting begins.”
Abbas followed Ammad around the outer circle of the camp to a nomadic tent, a series of heavy wool cloths stitched together and braced by portable wooden frames tied by sturdy ropes to tires. A large water barrel provided drink, and a fire had been set up for cooking.
A regally dressed man in a white tunic and turban set as far back from the entrance as possible. Very different from his palace in Teheran, Abbas thought, as al-Sistani waved him inside.
“Your Excellency, may Allah smile on you and the pure members of His house.”
“So you translate?” al-Sistani asked without a formal response.
“Yes, I converse in all dialects of our four major languages.”
The slight smile on his leader’s face said he was pleased.
“In three hours all our invited guests will be here. Three hundred and twenty-seven people in all.” His guards pulled him to his feet. “However, only five will speak. You and three others will translate. You will translate the Tajik into Farsi.”
“Yes, I understand.” Kazhili moistened his lips. “Allah Akbar.”
“Allah Akbar,” al-Sistani answered. “Over a hundred warriors are positioned in the trees. Do not fear for your safety.”
A hundred will not be enough. Fear for your own.
#
Peacock centered he
r mental focus on the terrain map on her screen and the blinking GPS. The team’s helicopter climbed to an altitude of two-hundred feet above the terrain. The site they would parachute into lay two miles to the north of Kazhili’s beacon. There a flat clearing about the size of a football field provided the only landing area for many kilometers. From there, her team would proceed on foot downhill through a Juniperus forest to the meeting grounds.
Her assessment of her team’s capabilities placed Magnus, Klaus, the German Acrobat, and Ming, her Chinese student, at her side throughout. The four would make a dash straight for al-Sistani’s tent, while Felicia, Loomis, and Cher, the female Gurkha fighter attempted to kill as many enemy combatants coming to their leader’s aid as they could.
Plan A said, sever the head and the body would flee. There was no Plan B.
Van Meer informed Eastern Global Realm authorities, and their Chinese Global troops to avoid the region and give the impression no eyes were on al-Sistani. Hoping the Imam and his people believed Global forces would attack the servant’s quarters in Mashhad, Van Meer brought a force of three HH-E Sea Hawk Rescue helicopters, four F-22A Raptors, and Peacock’s ground team of seven to assault the mountain location.
As a satellite narrowed in for a closer look, Peacock noticed movement on the ground and dark figures climbing trees. “They have snipers in the trees around the perimeter.”
“Encircling the whole area?” Van Meer asked.
“Yes, a tactical mistake. A mobile ground force would be more effective.” Peacock almost giggled from excitement. “Once they’re up a tree, getting down with Raptors shooting their butts off won’t be easy.”
Her brainwaves ignited her senses into a fighting frenzy. She chewed a piece of gum to help keep herself under control until the time to attack. The helicopter pilot banked left, and Peacock caught a glimpse of the landing area ahead. Coming in low from the north with a strong south headwind blowing blotted out the noise of the approaching helicopter. She strapped on her ballistics vest and helmet, items she never had to wear in the past.
Communications would be minimal once she and her crew left the chopper. Van Meer remained secure onboard a naval vessel in the Persian Gulf. “Recheck to see your weapons are readied and your communications devices are working in case we get separated. Once we’re on the ground, keep a visual on the person on each side of you. Watch for my signal when we’re in sight of the camp. Raise your hand if you see any obstacle. I’ll respond by coming to you.”
The chopper touched down and the team disembarked in less than a minute. By Peacock’s estimate, forty minutes and her team would be at al-Sistani’s door. The trees and rugged terrain made progress slow at best, and she wasn’t sure how many steep slopes lay ahead. The forest covered only a narrow nine-square kilometer area along the mountainside composed of junipers and heavy brush. Some trees ascended to twenty-five feet tall. Outside the forest area were rugged mountains to the west and north, and steeps to the east and south.
Once organized on the ground, she led her team out of the clearing, and the chopper headed north. In two hours, she thought, I’ll bring everyone back alive or die trying.
#
From his vehicle near Al-Khomeini’s palace in Mashhad, General Jafarzadeh monitored the area surrounding the gardens waiting to spring his trap. However, his Plan B needed his attention in case a traitor had revealed the change of plans to his enemies. “Any sign of our friends?” General Jafarzadeh asked his contact in the mountain camp.
“Nothing is happening here. The meeting is just beginning. I have the perimeter covered from the trees. I believe the Global Realm has bought into our deception.”
“Nonetheless, keep alert. Nothing is going on here either, and it should be by now.”
General Jafarzadeh breathed in the crisp clean air. Spies sent in by the infidels worried him. Where were the forces of the Global Realm? A quick scan of the gardens and the palace showed nothing out of the ordinary except for his people attempting to blend in and looking uncomfortable.
#
Peacock led her comrades through the forest, as she had when approaching Reed’s house in Lasswade. She positioned herself in the middle with three members of her team on each side. The unit approached the enemy encampment swiftly, covering the two-mile gradual descent in less than thirty minutes with the bright sunshine as a guide.
She was about to raise her hand when Cher’s hand flew up and the team crouched down. Peacock was at Cher’s side in seconds.
“There,” Cher said, and pointed outward and up. A figure, three-quarters up a tree, peered straight out only thirty yards away from their position. studying the countryside. To Peacock’s surprise, he seemed to concentrate on a narrow level area slightly downhill from her position. Then she saw the tent in the distance, another thirty yards farther downhill.
Peacock smirked. An untrained loyalist with no combat experience telegraphed the position of the tent simply by his positioning. She pressed the red button on her communication device. Within a minute, fighter planes would swoop down and strafe the area. She turned on her GPS, signaling her position. Between satellite tracking and her GPS, the odds of her group attracting friendly fire dropped significantly.
She pointed at Cher and then at the sniper, and Cher nodded. Peacock pulled out a picture of Abbas Kazhili. The plan was to bring their comrade out with them. A sudden series of explosions and flames in the treetops caused Peacock to wave her team of four forward, as the sound of machine gun fire both incoming and outgoing filled the air. Felicia and her two companions provided protection, Cher taking out the sniper in the tree, and Loomis returning fire, killing another sniper a distance away.
Confusion reigned around Peacock and her team. The initial strike of missiles on the southern border of the encampment caused a ground fire to spread quickly. Those fleeing north ran into the team’s line of fire.
Don’t waste munitions!
Keeping her rage from taking control consumed much of her energy. So many opportunities to kill those trapped between her and the flames. But, they were unarmed and the objective was the tent.
Ming slid around to the front of the tent, firing as he did. Fighters inside the tent shot wildly through the fabric. A stray bullet hit Peacock’s flak jacket as she, Klaus, and Magnus unloaded their ammunition on those inside. The tent collapsed, and the wind tumbled it backwards several feet.
Peacock found al-Sistani still gasping for breath. She shot him three times in the head. The other fighters would arrive in seconds.
“Move now,” she screamed and the four headed back the way they came with Felicia and Loomis providing cover. Cher collided with a man running toward her screaming, “I’m Abbas. I’m Abbas. Don’t leave your humble servant behind.”
“Bring him with us,” Peacock yelled, and the team scrambled away uphill the same way they came.
#
His left arm bloody and sprained, Ammad crawled out from among the dead to weep for his father. He cradled al-Sistani in his arms and wailed a mournful cry. A yank on his shoulder interrupted his moment of grief.
“You must go now,” a bearded man with a black robe and turban whispered. “You can’t stay here. I’m in contact with General Jafarzadeh. I’m to protect you with my life. Come.”
The next instant he was running, stumbling more accurately, out of the forest and down the narrow mountain path he’d ascended a few days before. The sound of the enemy’s fighter planes blasting the area he’d left rang in his ears.
“One day, I will avenge my father’s death,” Ammad managed to say.
“Precisely so,” his rescuer answered, “but not today.”
Chapter 41
Thick smoke and flames raged to the south as Peacock and her team broke out into the clearing. Already the sound of the approaching helicopter vibrated in her ears.
“Personnel check,” she shouted.
“A few scratches,” Magnus said, as those around him looked for any other visible injur
ies.
One by one, each team member did a 360 turn.
“You’ve taken a hit in your leg,” Cher said, pointing to Ming’s left pant leg.
“Minor” he replied. “They’ll patch me up back onboard ship.”
Peacock rubbed her side. “I think one hit me between the ribs.”
“Do you mean the extra one you stole from Adam?” Loomis joked as he ran up.
She lifted her arm, and Loomis leaned down to inspect her. His touch shot passionate vibes directly into her brain, and she struggled to control her erratic mind. No normal person’s emotional system would react like this. However, she wasn’t normal.
“The shell is lodged half in your ribcage and half in your flak jacket,” Loomis said, “Best to leave it in until we’re aboard ship.”
“How is Kazhili?” she asked.
“I’m a grateful dog,” he gasped, out of breath and panting hard. “If I hadn’t been informed this team used women fighters, I would be unable to lift my head.”
Ming slapped Kazhili hard on the back. “Super women, my friend, they are Amazon warriors.” He pointed at Peacock. “She is six men wrapped into one. And—before you speak further—married to the First Citizen.”
“We appreciate your service,” Peacock said as the chopper touched down. “Your name will go in the book of Global heroes my husband is creating.”
Peacock made sure she was the last to board. No signs of pursuit, only thick clouds of smoke rose from where they’d come. Once inside, the chopper took off and headed west.
Loomis strapped in next to Peacock. Fifteen minutes into the flight as the others drifted off to sleep, his hand slid gently onto hers and left it there. She place her other hand atop his and smiled. “Thank you for always having my back,” she managed. “It can never be anything more.”
His eyes formed tears and a pouty, sad lip turned down. “I don’t believe in never. I will always be here waiting.”
She pulled her hands away. Her body and her id wanted him. Her intellect said no. She pictured Arthur’s face and that of her son’s and bit her lip. In other surroundings, she’d cheat, and she knew it.
Madness Page 24