Clancy, Tom - Op Center 8 - Line of Control

by Line of Control [lit]

  "That makes me not your enemy."

  Sharab had to admit that the American had a point. Still, she was not

  ready to believe him entirely. Not yet.

  "You're wasting what little time we have," the man went on.

  "Unless you plan on killing me, I'm going with Nanda."

  Sharab continued to hold Friday against the wall. His hot breath warmed

  her nose as she looked at him. His eyes were tearing from the cold but

  that was the only life in them.

  Sharab could not find anything else there. Not truth, not conviction,

  not selflessness. But she also did not see fear or hostility. And at the

  moment, that would have to be good enough.

  "Samouel will run the operation," Sharab told Friday.

  Friday nodded vigorously. Sharab released him. Samouel held Friday up

  until he was sure the American had his feet under him.

  "Wait here," Sharab said, then turned.

  With her back to the cliff wall Sharab edged toward Nanda. The Indian

  woman was crouched in a small fissure with her grandfather. She rose

  when Sharab arrived. She was wearing a heavy scarf across her face.

  Only her eyes were visible.

  Sharab told Nanda that she would be traveling in one group, with

  Samoeui, the American, and her grandfather.

  "Why are you doing that?" Nanda asked.

  When Sharab finished telling her everything Friday had said, she saw

  doubt and concern in Nanda's eyes. Perhaps the Indian woman did not know

  what the SFF and members of the military had been doing.

  Unfortunately, Nanda's reaction told Sharab what she needed to know.

  That the American's story could be true.

  Nuclear war could indeed be just hours away.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR.

  Washington, D. C. Thursday, 6:51 a. m.

  Paul Hood was not surprised that Bob Herbert had been blunt with the

  woman on the radio. Herbert's wife had been killed by Islamic

  terrorists. Working with the Pakistani cell had to be ripping him apart.

  But what Herbert had told the woman, that he opposed her and her

  profession, was also a smart and responsible alliance tactic. Strangers

  tend to be suspicious of indulgence and flattery. But tell someone that

  you don't like them and are only working with them out of necessity and

  they tend to trust whatever information you give them.

  "You okay. Bob?" Hood asked.

  "Sure," he replied.

  "She got in a good one, though."

  "So did you."

  "She never felt it," Herbert said.

  "Zealots have skin like a tank. But it's all right," he went on.

  "I'm a big boy. I know how this works."

  "Sometimes it just strikes a little close to the heart," Hood said.

  "Yes, it does," Herbert agreed.

  Hood had been through situations like this before with Herbert. The

  intelligence chief just had to work through it.

  "We'll talk more about this later. Bob," Hood said.

  "Right now, I've got to brief the president. He'll need to know what

  we're planning."

  The intelligence chief was silent for a moment.

  "I guess that's also bothering me, though. Whether we should really be

  doing this."

  "What?" Hood asked.

  "Letting Striker go in?"

  "Yeah."

  "Give me an option," Hood said.

  "Dump the problem in the president's lap," Herbert said.

  "Let him slug it out with the Indian government." "He won't do that

  without proof," Hood said.

  "I'll tell him what our concerns are and what we're going to do about

  it.

  I know what he's going to say. He will okay having Striker on the ground

  for on-site intel, especially since the Indian government has authorized

  their being there. He's going to give us his blessings to go that far.

  The rest will be Mike's call."

  Herbert was silent.

  "But you're still uneasy," Hood said.

  "Yeah," Herbert told him.

  "Let's just go over our command tent options again." "All right," Hood

  said patiently.

  "We've decided that the Indian government is probably out of the loop on

  this nuclear option," Herbert said.

  "So unless we get that Kargil woman, Nanda, in front of a TV camera to

  explain this was an inside job we have no proof to offer the president

  or the Indian people." "That's it," Hood said.

  "We've also got Indian troops moving in to cut Nanda and the Pakistanis

  down." "We assume," Herbert said.

  "We have to assume it's search and destroy," Hood pointed out.

  "The SFF gains nothing by capturing the Pakistanis and letting the truth

  come out. We need to give the cell a chance to get home."

  "God help us," Herbert said.

  "Bob, there's a bigger picture than aiding terrorists," Hood said.

  "You know that."

  "I know," Herbert said.

  "I just don't like it."

  "The time it would take us to move this through diplomatic channels

  could cost the Pakistanis their lives," Hood said.

  "And going ahead with this operation can cost Striker their lives,"

  Herbert said.

  been true every time they've gone into the field," Hood reminded

  Herbert.

  "If Mike or Colonel August has any doubts about this action they can

  call it off at any time."

  "They won't," Herbert assured him.

  "Not with what's at stake."

  "That's probably true." Hood agreed.

  "And not with the balls Mike's got," Herbert went on.

  "It's more than that," Hood said.

  "He knows his people.

  Did he ever run that quote past you, the one from the duke of

  Wellington?" "I don't think so," Herbert said.

  "I was watching Striker drill one morning and I asked Mike how he could

  tell when he had pushed his people as far as they could go," Hood said.

  "He told me that Wellington had a simple way to determine when he had

  created the best fighting unit possible.

  "I don't know what effect these men will have upon the enemy,"

  Wellington wrote, 'but, by God, they terrify me." Mike said that when he

  felt his people were tough enough to scare him, that was when he

  stopped."

  "Paul, I don't need to be reminded that Striker is the best," Herbert

  said.

  "But I'm worried about the jump into the Himalayas.

  I'm worried about the odds and having to trust terrorists.

  I'm worried about having no backup for them and, worse than that, no

  exit strategy."

  "I'm worried about all that too," Hood replied.

  "I'm also aware that we have no other options."

  The intelligence chief was quiet for a moment. The silence was

  uncomfortable. Hood felt as if Herbert were judging him.

  Herbert must have felt that too.

  "I know we're doing what we have to do," he said.

  "It doesn't mean I have to like it."

  Herbert's voice was no longer angry or searching. It was resigned.

  Herbert said that he would call the NRO to get the exact location of the

  cell and then give Striker a final update before H-hour. Hood thanked

  him and hung up.

  Op-Center's director rubbed his eyes. Herbert had his personal demons

  but so did Hood.

  Unlike the intelligence chief.
Hood had never put his life on the line.

  He had been a mayor and a financial officer before taking this job. He

  had sent Striker into danger before but never into an armed conflict. To

  do that seemed cavalier, hypocritical, cowardly.

  But, as Hood had told Herbert, it was also necessary. Paul Hood's

  personal issues could not affect his professional decisions.

  He had to be dispassionate. He owed the president and the nation that

  much.

  Hood stopped rubbing his eyes. He was tired inside and out. It did not

  help that when this was over he had to deal with the closing of the

  press office. Fortunately, he would be able to minimize his contact with

  Ann Farris until then.

  Because this was a military action Hood would instruct her to institute

  a total press blackout on any Op-Center activities until noon. She would

  have to shut down the phones and computers. No press department staff

  would be permitted to answer their cell phones. Queries to the automated

  main number would go unreturned. As for Hood, he would go into the Tank

  with Bob Herbert, Liz Gordon, and Lowell Coffey until the crisis had

  passed.

  Then Hood would give Ann Farris the bad news along with his complete

  attention.

  He owed her that much.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE.

  The Great Himalaya Range Thursday, 4:19 p. m.

  The parachutes were zero-porosity mixed-fabric PF 3000s "Merits." They

  had been selected for the Indian military in this region because they

  gave jumpers maximum control over their descent. If there were a sudden

  current in any direction the fabric would retain its shape and buoyancy.

  The canopies themselves were slightly elliptical with a tapered wing.

  That shape provided for the softest landings. First used militarily by

  the French air force, the Merits also provided the safest jump for

  novice parachutists.

  The parachutes were stowed in slender Atom Millennium containers. They

  had classic plastic handle rip cords and narrow chest straps along with

  lightweight Cordura fabric exteriors.

  The thin straps and light weight would be relatively un restrictive if

  Striker were forced to engage the enemy or the elements before doffing

  the backpacks. There was also an instant-collapse system operated by a

  rubber pull-string.

  That would allow the chute to be deflated immediately upon landing in

  the event of strong ground winds.

  Rodgers and his team had unpacked and repacked the parachutes. They

  examined the fabric as well as the shroud lines and ring attachments.

  With elements of the Indian military apparently working at

  cross-purposes, Rodgers wanted to make certain the equipment had not

  been sabotaged.

  Suited in the white Nomex winter gear they had brought with them, the

  Strikers were huddled next to the hatch before lining up. The team

  members were crouched to keep their balance in the bumping aircraft. In

  addition to their parachutes, each commando wore a hip holster with a

  Browning 9mm high-power Mark 2 pistol, a Kevlar bullet-proof vest,

  leather gloves, and climbing boots. The vests had side pockets for

  flashlights, flares, hand grenades, additional pistol magazines, and

  maps. Before jumping into the subzero environment the commandos would

  don the Leyland and Birmingham respirator masks they carried. These

  full-face masks included large, shatterproof, tinted eyepieces for wide

  visibility. Medic William Musicant had the added burden of a medical

  belt. This remarkably compact unit, devised by the Navy SEALs for use in

  Desert Storm, allowed him to treat a wide range of both fall- and

  combat-related injuries.

  Rodgers reviewed photographs of the terrain with Striker.

  Viens had transmitted these images from the NRO computer directly to the

  Striker laptop. Rodgers had printed out two copies to pass around.

  The general had also printed out a second set of photographs that had

  just come in.

  The team was going into what was referred to as a high contrast terrain.

  That meant the landing would be problematic.

  The target area was a large, flat ledge approximately seventy meters by

  ninety meters. It was the only relatively large horizontal site in the

  region. The drawbacks were several large outcroppings of rock as well as

  steep drops on the northern and western sides. Sheer cliffs bounded the

  area on the south and east. Colonel August was also concerned about the

  winds. He pointed to the color photograph.

  "Depending upon the strength of the winds in the area, this concave

  southeastern wall could create powerful out draft he said.

  "That could keep us from landing in the target zone."

  "Unfortunately, the cell is moving along very narrow ledges," Rodgers

  said.

  "That's the only area where we can intercept them."

  "Why do we have to catch them in the mountains?" Ishi Honda asked. In

  addition to his parachute the young corporal was carrying the TAC-SAT in

  a pouch on his chest.

  Rodgers showed them the second photograph Viens had sent. It showed a

  line of dark shapes moving across a dreary terrain of wheat-colored

  scrub and patches of snow.

  "These are Indian soldiers moving toward the target area," Rodgers said.

  "The NRO and Bob Herbert both put them at less than five miles from

  contact. There are up to two hundred of them, though we can't be sure.

  They obtained these pictures by hacking a Chinese satellite that watches

  the line of control. We can't pull back for a wider view."

  "Which means that if we can't smuggle the cell through we will have to

  repel a much larger force," August told the group.

  "For various reasons negotiation is not an option," Rodgers added.

  "We have to get past them one way or the other."

  The general looked at the faces of his troops. With the exception of the

  medic, all of these soldiers had been in battle. Most of them had

  killed. They had shed the blood of others, usually at a distance. They

  had seen the blood of their teammates, which typically fanned their rage

  and made the blood of the enemy invisible. They had also faced superior

  odds. Rodgers was confident that they would give this effort everything

  they had.

  Rodgers listened as Colonel August talked about the strategy they would

  employ upon landing. Typically, they would go behind enemy lines

  carrying mines. Two or three operatives would form a subgroup. They

  would go ahead and plant the mines along the team's route to protect

  them from enemies.

  They would also throw out substances such as powdered onion or raw meat

  to confuse and mislead attack dogs.

  They did not see dogs in the photographs and hoped that the animals were

  not part of the army units.

  Since there were apparently four members of the cell, plus Friday and

  the two Indians, August had decided to go forward in an ABBA formation.

  There would be a Striker in front and behind each group of two

  Pakistanis. That would enable Striker to control the rate of progress

  and to watch the personnel they were escorting. Neither Herbert nor
/>   Rodgers expected any resistance from the cell. From everything they had

  been told, both groups wanted the same thing. To reach Pakistan alive.

  As for the Indian force, the American team was prepared to move at

  nightfall, wage a guerrilla campaign, or simply dig in, wait them out,

  and execute an end run when possible. They would do whatever it took to

  survive.

  Striker had drilled for this maneuver high in the Rockies.

  They called it their red, white, and blue exercise. During the course of

  two hours their fingers had gone from red to white to blue. At least

  they knew what they would be facing. Once they reached the ground they

  would know how to pace themselves.

  The only uncertainty was what might happen on the way down. That was

  still what concerned Rodgers the most.