They kept going. Every time Conor glanced to his side he saw Shani was still smiling, enjoying the scare he’d gotten. At least he hadn’t pissed himself. He’d never have lived that down.
They met no one on the road, nor did they hear any vehicles. They knew they were getting close when the forest ahead of them began to thin. They huddled together for a last consultation before approaching the property, studying the image on Conor’s sPAD.
“The main entrance to the property is this road to the south. We’re coming in from the north. When we approach the grounds, I think we need to drop off the right of the road and move along the fringe of the forest. Maybe we can find a place central enough that we can observe several of the buildings and get an idea of how they’re being used.”
“Agreed,” Shani said. “We still don’t know which is Mumin’s residence. All of the buildings look the same.”
With a plan firmed up, they moved in a single line on the right side of the forest road. The clearing loomed ahead of them with each step. There was no avoiding the occasional cracking twig or crumbling leaf but Conor cringed at the sound of each. It was the forest’s own early alert system, old as nature itself. For eons, it had been the downfall of predator and prey alike, whether the hunter was modern or Paleolithic.
As the road approached the clearing it began to widen. Conor and Shani kept moving until they could see through the opening without exposing themselves. The entire facility reminded Conor of an immense shopping center. A construction company had come in and built an artificially flat pad dozens of acres in size. At the edges, the land dropped sharply down to the previous level of the swampy forest. Protruding from those steep banks, Conor could see the exposed ends of drainpipes carrying water to the deep channels carved into the swamp.
“This was expensive,” Conor whispered. “Lots of casino money went into this.”
“Not just casino money. Saudi money.”
The comment reminded Conor that Shani had a lot more background on this operation than he did. “How long have you been on this?”
“This what?” she asked.
“This...investigation.”
“Since before the attacks.”
Conor was surprised. “Before the attacks?”
“You know the old saying that you should always follow the money? My government was tracking Saudi money to Michigan and Wisconsin well before the attacks. It raised a flag.”
“Did your government share that bit of information with the US government?”
Shani shook her head. “Not at that point. There was nothing really to share. After the attacks on your country, officials in Israel decided it might be time to do so. There were some meetings between my government and some of your officials, but nothing became of it.”
“Nothing? That’s surprising.”
“They weren’t interested at all. In fact, they shut down the conversation and told us they’d handle the matter. They seemed uncomfortable with the information.”
“Why wouldn’t they be interested?”
“Think, Conor. American government officials staying in some of the most luxurious hotels in the world with the Saudis picking up the tab. Officials elected with the help of Saudi donations to their PACs and foundations. They’re not going to do anything to upset the apple cart.”
Conor knew all that even as she explained it. He’d seen it over the years and knew it to be true. The Saudis could do no wrong. They owned American politics. Even after the number of Saudis involved in the 9/11 attacks, American officials still bowed at their feet and gave them anything they wanted, from arms to intelligence. “So why are we here?”
“Eventually our information got to the right ears, which was not the ears of your elected officials. Your country has never been one government with one mission. That whole ‘one nation under God’ is a fantasy. The hostility between divisions has never been higher. In fact, with the media shut down, some of those divisions of government are actively at war with each other right now. I don’t even think you could reduce it down to something as basic as Democrats warring with Republicans. I think there are four or five parties all actively engaged in trying to take control.”
“Actively at war?”
“Yes. Assassination is rampant. Not just in Washington but worldwide. Leaders formerly protected by the US no longer have that protection. Their enemies are getting even. The same is happening to your own officials. Political misdeeds are being repaid. The chickens are coming home to roost, as you like to say.”
“So who did your people get to? Who is sponsoring this op?”
Shani shrugged. “The same patriots who’ve sponsored all the other work you and I have done, Conor. The same people who’ve paid Ricardo’s fee for years when they need a mission undertaken. The same people who paid his predecessor’s fee.”
“The same people who put me in my compound in Virginia,” Conor surmised.
“The same,” Shani confirmed. “The same people who stuck the village tinker in his junk shop just to keep him fat and happy until they needed him for the next job.”
Conor ignored the jab. There was at least some comfort in knowing he was working for the good guys. Of course, the fact that they were the good guys was relative, wasn’t it? It depended on who you asked. Who you were. Perhaps it was better just to say that he was working for the devil he knew, rather than the devil he didn’t. He was comfortable with that.
They continued to the south via a deer trail, dropping down over the edge of the grade to progress unseen. The flat pad of earth on which the compound was constructed was maintained up to the very edge. The caretakers kept it mowed and there was little in the way of brush or undergrowth to conceal Conor and Shani’s movement. Deer had sensed the same problem and had responded by keeping a trail beat down where the graded earth joined the old forest floor.
There was an abundance of deadfall that had to be climbed over or scampered beneath, making for slow progress. Part of it occurred naturally but some was the result of bulldozers clearing ground when the site was constructed. They got as far as they could get before they ran out of light. Once they reached that point, they climbed the steep bank, stopping when they were able to see over the edge.
It was nearly dark. The distant trees surrounding the clearing were only visible in silhouette, as were the various structures scattered around the property. The satellite footage of the compound showed several banks of solar panels but they could hear a generator humming in the background too. No lights were visible anywhere.
“Do you see any windows at all?” Conor asked. “I can’t find a single one. In fact, I’m not seeing anything that gives away the function of these different buildings. The only one with a clear use is the barn.”
“We were never able to get that intel from the satellite footage either. As you said, the barn is the only exception. It’s not a real farm but they keep enough stock to feed themselves.”
Conor undid a strap on the outside of his pack and removed the rolled sniper mat. The pad provided a waterproof resting place for a man laying in position on damp ground. He also slept on his, using it as a mattress when bivouacking on an operation. His had an additional feature that he thought all shooting mats should include. It contained a thermal blanket that would break up his heat signature if he stood it up in front of him like a little fort.
After he spread the shooting mat on the ground, he and Shani squeezed onto it, laying alongside each other. Conor wished she’d set up her own damn mat and give him some space, but she showed no intent of doing so. He didn’t want to rock the boat this early so he didn’t push the issue.
Shani dug into her own pack and removed the M151 spotting scope. It was basically a Leupold spotting scope with a few militarized features tacked on. It had a kill flash to prevent reflections and a laser filter to keep the user from getting blinded if they got hit with a laser beam while looking through it. All nice little things to have. The eyepiece was also threaded to accept a PVS-14 but Shani didn�
��t immediately attach the nightvision. Despite the darkness, the scope would gather more light than the human eye. She flattened out and panned the optic around the compound.
Conor retrieved his bump helmet from the top of his pack. He adjusted the liner to fit over the cap he was wearing and dropped his optic into place. He was using the Enhanced Night Vision Goggle-B, or ENVG-B, which was among the gear Ricardo sent him for taking in Doc Marty. It was a new generation binocular-style night vision that had both night vision and thermal capability.
The night vision worked in conjunction with the FWS-I optic on Conor’s rifle. The rifle optic had the ability to wirelessly transmit the reticle to the NVGs. That made for superfast target acquisition. Sometimes Conor wasn’t so big on tech but night ops were one place where he’d always choose the latest and greatest equipment he had access to. This was worlds beyond the old-school Starlight scope he’d used on his first nighttime operation decades ago.
With his optic system in place and functional, Conor began methodically scanning the grounds from one end to the other.
“I’m not seeing shit,” Shani said. “There’s no visible light coming from any of the buildings. I can’t even find the first window in any of these structures.”
“That makes sense from a security standpoint,” Conor pointed out.
“Doesn’t make our job any easier, though.”
“On the plus side, I’m not seeing anyone moving around. No security, no patrols, and no wanderers.”
“They may not feel like they need security out on patrol,” Shani said. “They’re back here in the middle of nowhere and probably assume the property to be inaccessible by any means except the main road. Especially with the nation in the state it’s in. They probably assume they’re insulated. Until now, they’ve been unmolested.”
“Well, I plan to fucking molest them,” Conor growled.
Shani rolled her eyes. “Always with the quips.”
Conor ignored her. “Constructing this facility was smart thinking on Mumin’s part. Use your connections with the tribes to build a corporate retreat and set it up as your post-collapse compound. Solar, livestock, more water than you could ever drink, and hidden in a remote corner of a Native American reservation.”
Shani stopped her panning movements. She was focused intently on something in her field of view. “Conor, check out the building to our eleven o’clock. Can you pick up anything on the exterior? It looks slightly different than the other metal buildings.”
Conor directed his attention to the structure Shani indicated. His optic was unmagnified so he squinted, trying to make out what he was looking at. “I see two big SUVs, maybe Cadillac Escalades. There’s a small covered porch area to the front of the building with some furniture and flower pots. It’s pretty sparse but looks like a residence. There’s a kid’s bicycle leaned up against a wall. More kid stuff to the left side of the house — a swing set with a slide and some little ride-on toy.”
“Our intelligence shows Mumin has a wife and a girlfriend, with children by both. We were watching the girlfriend and she disappeared around the same time as the attack. I believe she’s living here with Mumin, possibly under the same roof as his family, though I can’t imagine how that works out for him.”
“Depends on how traditional they are in their beliefs,” Conor said. “I’ve worked with American Muslims before who operated under those same principles. The women in their lives were not allowed to question anything. Some of them openly discussed the merits of their girlfriends in front of their wives and dared them to have a reaction.”
“Oh, I wouldn’t dare question my husband,” Shani replied sarcastically. “I’d go straight for a knife and slice his beanbag off.”
Conor winced. “I have no trouble believing you.”
“What do you think we should do?”
Conor turned off his NVGs and flipped them up. “I think we need to change positions so we can get a closer look at the structure with the swing set.”
“It could take an hour or two to get there if we go through the woods, and we’d make a hell of a racket. It’s harder to monkey around the underbrush with nightvision.”
“To hell with that. I say we go straight across the field. I haven’t seen any dogs or anyone out on the property since we got here.”
“I’m game,” Shani replied. “Let’s pack our shit and move.”
Conor stowed his shooting mat but kept his NVGs. Shani put the spotting scope in her pack and slid on her own helmet. She was using a monocular-style PVS-14 for nightvision since it was compatible with her spotting scope.
“You ready?” Conor asked.
“Let’s do it.”
6
The pair climbed up over the edge of the bank and moved stealthily across the field. It was dark enough that, should anyone be watching, their silhouettes should be lost against the darker backdrop of the forest. The property was so vast and artificially flat it resembled a massive football field carved from the wooded swamp. It was much bigger than any football field, though. Perhaps twenty or more acres of unnaturally level, even land.
They kept a determined pace but didn’t run. Rapid movement would increase the odds of making a sound or drawing the eye. Conor scanned as they walked, his goggles picking up the heat signature of a solitary housecat stalking something in the yard. He hadn’t seen any dogs yet, which was fortunate. On an op like this you really only had two options if a canine was involved. Either bribe and befriend it or take it out. While he’d done many distasteful things in his life he’d never intentionally hurt a dog and didn’t want to start now. After all, it wasn’t like he worked for the ATF.
Beyond the housecat, he saw no signs of life. The thermal function of his optic showed that several of the buildings were heated but that was the extent of the information he garnered. Despite what Hollywood portrayed in the movies, he couldn’t see inside the buildings. The insulated walls contained enough heat that they washed out any other heat sources in the buildings. The only exception to this was the single building that they were certain was the barn. The exterior walls revealed pockets of heat, likely where an animal inside the structure was backed up against the wall.
The temperature was dropping, the air crisp and well below freezing. The smell of wood smoke in the air made Conor think of the warmth of his woodstove. While he would appreciate some of that comfort at the moment, he didn’t exactly miss home. It felt good to be operational again, particularly in someplace other than his backyard. He’d always loved his work and felt he was blessed to have found his niche in the world.
Though some might have found it morbid that his niche was working as a professional killer, Conor didn’t see it that way. He felt he was part of an exclusive community. Shani wasn’t much different than he was. Nor were any of the dozens of others just like him that he’d met over the years.
Well, none were exactly like him, but there were certainly others of his kind out there. Killers who loved the challenge of the job. Men who understood that freedom only prevailed in the world because there were men willing to get their hands dirty. Men who were willing to step in the shit so that decent people didn’t have to track up their houses. Conor had long ago accepted who he was. He wouldn’t ever be on a stamp or the front of a cereal box. No one would read about him in the history books. However, in his own small way, he did his part. He made the world a better place.
He and Shani soon reached the opposite edge of the property and dropped down over the bank, only their heads sticking up enough to continue surveillance. Conor rolled out his shooting mat again and they planted themselves on it. Shani threw up the spotting scope and threaded her night vision to the eyepiece.
Conor did a tentative scan of the surroundings then began digging into his pack. He came out with a crinkly plastic package that Shani couldn’t ignore.
“What the hell is making all that racket?”
“My bleeding snack,” Conor grumbled. “I’m hungry.”
&n
bsp; Shani released a dramatic sigh. “I see some things haven’t changed. Agent Cheeseburger is still on the job.”
“Geez, you’re starting to nag like my daughter. I can’t help that the two of you can’t tell muscle from fat.”
“Seems like you have the same problem,” Shani said, turning back to her optic.
Conor ate his protein bar anyway, refusing to be shamed into missing a meal that his stomach was clamoring for. When he was done, he crammed the wrapper into his pocket. “So, what are you thinking?”
“I’m thinking we keep watch all night. At daybreak, we retreat into the woods a little. I want to observe the property but with a little distance between us. Maybe daylight will reveal a little more.”
“We could just pick the locks and enter the buildings one at a time,” Conor suggested.
“Too early. People are probably still up and moving around.”
“We could alternate watches and take turns grabbing some sleep. Then we could do it later. The wee hours of the night and all.”
“Conor, if you need a nap after your little snack you go ahead and take one. I’m not going off half-cocked. I want to know exactly which building Mumin is in before taking action. We may not know that until daylight tomorrow. Surely he’ll come out at some point and show himself. Then we can act.”
“That’s probably safer for the non-combatants.”
Shani had pulled her eye back from the optic. Through his nightvision, her pale, glowing face regarded him with an almost pained expression. “What’s that supposed to mean, Conor?”
“You know exactly what it means. It means you play a little too fast and loose for me sometimes. You’ve never been as careful about collateral damage as me. You’re less concerned with the innocents trapped in the middle of the shit.”
Shani turned her eye back to the spotting scope. “I’ve changed, Conor. I promise you. I will be discerning with my use of force.”
“I’m glad to hear that.”
“You know, despite our differences, I’ve always enjoyed working with you,” Shani said as she scanned the night. “You’re good at what you do.”
Northern Sun: Book Four in The Mad Mick Series Page 4