Operator Down: A Pike Logan Thriller

by Brad Taylor

  Brett touched Johan’s sleeve and said, “There’s a guy in the driver’s seat and one in the passenger seat, and we have to secure that building before we steal it.”

  The vehicle was an obstacle to assaulting the building, something that had to be passed in order to access a breach point, but luckily, it was parked far enough away that—if they did it correctly—they could eliminate the two men inside the truck without alerting anyone else.

  Johan nodded and said, “What about the bed of the truck?”

  Brett said, “I don’t know. I don’t think anyone would be in the back if they’re parked at a building, but then again, I wouldn’t expect two guys to be up front.”

  Johan said, “Let me see your NODs.” Brett passed them to him, and he focused on the truck, searching for something specific. He found it and handed them back.

  “That’s the same truck used in the field. It’s full of bullet holes. There were about ten or twelve guys in that fight, and we took out at least six of them, so that leaves a max of six, maybe less.”

  “What if this is a barracks? There could be thirty guys inside, and I don’t want to find that out the hard way.”

  “It’s not. It’s the headquarters for the military intelligence battalion that supports the SF regiment. I’ve had the pleasure of being interrogated inside it. The left side of the wing is nothing but classrooms. The right, where the light is on, is the commander’s office.”

  Johan slung his weapon onto his back and withdrew a fixed-blade fighting knife. He said, “Cover me, and I’ll check out the truck’s bed. If it’s clean, I’ll take the guy on the passenger’s side, you take the driver’s side. Good?”

  Brett nodded, then said, “Shoot me two flashes if it’s clean, three if it’s dirty.”

  They didn’t have enough equipment to outfit Johan with Taskforce communications, so they were forced to improvise.

  Brett got on the net and said, “Veep, Johan’s moving to the truck. Keep your targets on the porch. If they show hostile intent, drop them.”

  “Roger.”

  Brett tapped Johan on the shoulder and handed him the set of NODs. Johan lay down, then crawled on his belly to the rear of the truck. He rose into a crouch, listening. When he was satisfied, he slowly peeled a corner of the canvas away and used the night vision on the inside.

  He slid back down and stowed the NODS, and Brett saw two flashes. Brett withdrew his own fighting knife and low-crawled to the rear of the truck. He showed the blade to Johan and leaned in to his ear, whispering, “You initiate,” then drew a finger across his throat. Johan nodded and rolled to the passenger side. Brett went left, sliding down the truck bed.

  He reached the driver’s door and glanced up. He could see the head of his target against the window, asleep. He gently put his palm on the handle, wrapping his fingers around the metal, waiting on Johan. He heard the far door open, the hinges groaning in the night, and yanked down on his handle. The door refused to open. In one painful, panicked microsecond, he realized the man had fallen asleep on the latch, locking the door. He heard a brief struggle on the far side and saw his man waking up. He leapt onto the running board and shattered the window with his elbow, catching the man’s head at the same time.

  He grabbed the target by his hair and yanked him halfway out, stuck the blade under his neck, and sliced both carotid arteries, a great gout of blood spilling onto the door of the truck.

  He dropped to the ground, unslung his weapon, and took a knee at the front tire, searching for threats. He saw the two men on the porch both startled at the noise. One took a single step off the porch, and his head snapped back. He collapsed in a heap, rolling into the courtyard. The other one raised his weapon, and Brett broke the trigger, throwing him against a wall.

  Everything grew quiet. Johan appeared by his side, and they both waited to see if they were compromised, expecting a horde to come barreling out of the darkness.

  Johan said, “What the hell happened?”

  “Fucker had the door locked.”

  They heard a shout from the lighted room. A question spoken in the Sesotho language floated across the courtyard, followed by a snort.

  Johan let out a soft laugh. Brett whispered, “What?”

  “I know who that is. I’m going to enjoy this.”

  On the net, Brett said, “Veep, what do you have?”

  “Nothing. I’ve got nothing. It’s quiet.”

  “Provide overwatch on our side. We’re assaulting the room on your side.”

  He hated the plan, but it was a little difficult to dominate the building with overwhelming force when they only had a three-man assault team. He had a choice: start clearing from one end and moving to the other, or focus directly on the room where they knew a threat existed. He chose the latter.

  Brett took aim at the corner of the building, settling his red dot on the lone bulb putting out illumination, and fired. It shattered, plunging the courtyard into darkness. He said, “Let’s go,” and sprinted down the road. He crossed the courtyard, running to the door adjacent to the illuminated window, leaving the entire opposite side wide open to his back. He prayed Johan was right, because if it was a barracks, they were dead.

  He stacked on the door, waited for Johan to touch his shoulder, then kicked it in. Two men leapt to their feet, neither one armed. One was a short, bald-headed man, who took one look at Johan and began stuttering incoherently. The other sprinted toward an AK leaning against the wall. Johan’s rifle spit two suppressed rounds, knocking the man to the floor.

  Brett cleared the rest of the room, then rotated to the door, saying, “Veep, Veep, what do you have?”

  “Nothing. All’s quiet.”

  To the bald-headed man, Johan said, “Get on your knees.”

  The man did as he was told, and Johan said, “Well, Frog, looks like I get to ask the questions this time.”

  Brett said, “You weren’t kidding? You know this guy?”

  “He did a little interrogation of me earlier. He thought I was US Special Forces out to do something bad in his country. He was only half right.”

  Johan walked to the man and got in his face, then theatrically pulled his fighting knife free. He said, “How many men are in this building?”

  “Four. Only four.” And then he snorted, causing Johan to chuckle.

  Brett said, “That’s it? Four plus you two?”

  The man nodded frantically, saying, “The rest are dead in the field.”

  Brett clicked on the net and said, “Veep, Veep, bring it in. Break, break, Pike, this is Blood. We have your exfil platform. What’s the status?”

  75

  Aaron heard the call and answered for Pike: “I’ve got three out. Two more and we can exfil. Ten more minutes, max.”

  Aaron grabbed the jacket of the last of Thomas’s inner circle and hoisted the man through the ragged hole in the wall while Thomas pushed from the other side. He slid out, and Aaron lowered him to the ground. Shoshana immediately went to work on his leg shackles, using the key Aaron had given her. That left only Thomas inside, and Aaron knew he would need some help. With no other members of his circle inside the prison to hoist him, Thomas would have trouble reaching the hole.

  Aaron said, “Shoshana, one more time, please.”

  She squatted down, placing her back against the wall and holding her hands at shoulder height, palms up. He put his feet on them and stood, getting level with the hole he’d made.

  It had taken more time than he had wanted to extract the weakened men through the window, and it had been a miracle that nobody in the prison had challenged their dwindling numbers. They had been helped by the darkness, as the lone bulb usually used to illuminate the cell had remained off, leaving the inside as black as a cave. Coupled with that, the uniformed tribe seemed content to pace at the entrance, shouting questions at the guard down the hallway, more
concerned with what was occurring outside the prison than with the rear of their cell.

  Aaron rose up on Shoshana’s hands, eliciting a soft grunt. He whispered, “Thomas, let’s go.”

  Thomas’s face appeared in the window, and Jennifer came on the net: “All elements, this is Koko. Vehicle just approached the prison’s main entrance. Two men exiting; one of them is shouting.”

  Aaron thought, Lurch.

  He said, “Thomas, come on. Quickly.”

  Aaron heard a commotion from inside the cell, the uniformed tribe excited about something. Thomas stood on the bucket, and Aaron heard Lurch coming down the hallway, screaming in a rage loud enough for the sound to penetrate outside the hole. He clicked onto the net and said, “Pike, Pike, execute, execute, execute.”

  Aaron grabbed Thomas’s arm, saying, “Come on. Climb!”

  Aaron heard the dull thump of Pike’s explosive breach on the far side of the building, and the room blazed into light from the single bulb. Thomas jerked his arm free, giving Aaron a grim smile, his perfect teeth gleaming in the tepid light.

  Thomas said, “Go. Get them out of here. I will delay the captain.”

  “No, you dumbass. Come on!”

  Thomas stepped off the bucket and disappeared.

  Lurch entered the cell and began raving like a lunatic. Aaron grabbed the sides of the hole and pulled himself back into the hell he’d worked so hard to escape. He heard Shoshana shout, “No!” and then he hit the ground behind the blanket. He withdrew his pistol, took a breath, and tore the blanket aside.

  Thomas was on his knees, his hands behind his head, with Lurch facing him head-on and a prison guard off to each side, each holding an AK-47 aimed at him. Instinct and training took over, Aaron’s body functioning with the precision of a computer, the focal point being the muzzle of his barrel. He fired a double-tap, hitting the guard on the left in the head, then rotated on his knee to the one on the right, breaking the trigger two more times before the first body had even collapsed, his aim impeccable.

  The room erupted into shouting, the uniformed prisoners running back and forth at the front of the cell. Lurch jerked Thomas to his feet, using his body as a shield. He brandished a small Makarov pistol and placed it at the base of Thomas’s skull. Spittle flying from his mouth, he shouted, “You! How?”

  Aaron said, “You let him go and you live.”

  To the other prisoners, Lurch said, “Attack him. He’s only one man. He can’t kill you all. When he’s dead, I’ll let all of you go free.”

  Seven of the prisoners stood. Aaron kept his weapon on Lurch, afraid to take his eyes off the Makarov. The prisoners advanced forward, and the lead man’s head exploded, flinging him back. Aaron felt movement behind him, and Shoshana appeared, holding her pistol as steady as a rail.

  The others stopped in their tracks, looking at Lurch. He screamed again, “Attack them! They can’t get you all!”

  Shoshana said, “First one to take a step forward will die. I promise.”

  They shuffled back and forth but refused to advance. Lurch began backing up to the door, dragging Thomas with him. He took aim at one of the prisoners and shot him in the chest, screaming, “Attack them!”

  The prisoners recoiled, each trying to use another as a shield. An AK-47 erupted in the hallway outside the cell, and Lurch whirled. Aaron saw Knuckles enter, so close to Lurch he was prevented from bringing his weapon to bear. Knuckles hammered Lurch across the bridge of his nose with his suppressor, dropped his weapon on its sling, trapped Lurch’s gun hand, and swept his feet out from under him.

  Before he’d even hit the ground, Pike and Jennifer entered, flowing into the room and looking for threats like water searching for low ground. They took up points of domination, and Knuckles punched Lurch in the temple twice, knocking the fight out of him.

  Seeing the area was clear, Pike lowered his weapon, saying, “Jennifer, secure the hallway. Knuckles, flex-tie that shithead. Aaron, call Brett for exfil.”

  He turned to the man they’d just saved and said, “Thomas Naboni, I presume?”

  Thomas said, “Yes,” then watched Shoshana shadow Aaron, refusing to move more than a foot away from him, pacing wherever he went, like she was afraid of losing him. Thomas made the connection and calmly walked to her, as if the preceding action had been a normal occurrence in his everyday life.

  To the room, Aaron said, “Truck’s one minute out. Prepare for exfil.”

  Thomas ignored the words, as if he had all the time in the world. He took Shoshana’s hand and kissed it, saying, “Shoshana, I presume?”

  She nodded, and he said, “Aaron promised you’d be coming. He thinks quite highly of you. I must admit, I didn’t have the same faith.”

  She smiled, the compliment causing her to glance shyly at Aaron, something so out of character it made Pike laugh. Shoshana’s eyes slit, and Pike couldn’t resist a jab. “Thomas, don’t get too close. She’s crazy, and it rubs off.”

  Shoshana scowled, her essence bubbling back to the surface, but before she could retort, Knuckles finished flex-tying Lurch, saying, “What about this asshole?”

  Aaron said, “I have an idea.” Lurch watched him approach, his eyes so wide the whites glowed against his charcoal skin. Aaron squatted down, studying him like a child would a bug crawling on a stick. He said, “I think we just leave him here.”

  Aaron looked over at the uniformed prisoners and said, “You men mind watching him until help arrives? Can you keep him safe? Since he cared so much for your welfare?”

  One of the prisoners glanced down at the man Lurch had killed, then, in halting English, said, “Yes, please. We would like that very much.”

  Jennifer poked her head in from the hallway and said, “Vehicle’s here.”

  Pike said, “Let’s go. We still need to get off the base.”

  Thomas said, “What’s the next step? Where are you taking us?”

  “Well, there’s a little bit of payback for helping you.”

  Thomas grew wary, glancing at Aaron and saying, “Payback how? What do you want?”

  “I want you to run this country.”

  Thomas’s mouth fell open, and Shoshana pushed him forward, the team taking up security positions as they moved, protecting him. Aaron brought up the rear, keeping his eyes on the prisoners who remained behind.

  The last thing he saw was Lurch in the center of them, the prisoners circling like a pack of dogs, barking and spitting. One kicked him in the stomach, and the floodgate of rage opened, Lurch lost in the flurry of blows.

  76

  Sitting in the SUV with Aaron, Knuckles, and Thomas, I watched Johan through the window talking into his radio, the clouds reflecting the feeble light of false dawn.

  He waved his arms in the air as he spoke, but it was impossible to tell if he was receiving bad news or just coordinating. I hoped it was the latter, because we’d used up all our luck in the past twenty-four hours. If we had more work to do, it would be asking for Murphy to kick us in the balls.

  Getting off the base had proven much easier than getting on—probably because we’d killed just about anyone of rank who was still available—and we’d driven straight back to where we’d stashed Alexandra. She was in significant pain, and Brett—our designated team medic—had set about tending to her wound. He’d pronounced it satisfactory, but he was worried about any future delays and wanted to get her to a hospital. I echoed that sentiment, of course, but I wasn’t sure how soon it would occur.

  Jennifer and Shoshana were with her in the abandoned hut, keeping her spirits up, while the rest of us talked to Thomas. We’d just given him a complete briefing on what was occurring in the country of Lesotho—leaving out any mention of nuclear triggers and top secret organizations—and he was stunned. Not so much that it was happening—nothing about the corruption of the current government could shock him after what it
had done to him and his friends—but that we actually had the ability to alter the outcome.

  He said, “I’m not sure I’m the man you seek. I was running for a seat in parliament just to force the conversation. That was all. I didn’t expect to win, and certainly didn’t expect to become as popular as I was. The fact remains I have no experience in government.”

  Aaron said, “You want to feed the future of your country to that shithead Makalo Lenatha? He was what you were fighting for?”

  “No, of course not. It’s just that maybe we should look for someone else. Someone with experience.”

  I said, “Are you kidding? What do you want to do, check on Craigslist in the help wanted section? Is there another jail around here with political prisoners you want to hit?”

  Thomas went from me to Aaron, his mouth opening and closing, the enormity of what we were asking settling in.

  Knuckles said, “Thomas, don’t take this the wrong way because I would have come for you regardless, but don’t let the risks we took for your men mean nothing. You ran into Aaron for a reason. Seize it. Your country needs you.”

  Thomas chewed his thumb and stared out the window. He turned and said, “Can I bring my own team with me? The ones who were in prison?”

  I laughed and said, “You’re the damn prime minister. It’s your call.”

  “How will we do this? If the military is the power behind this coup, how will we get them to back me? General Mosebo was going to kill me tonight. What’s to prevent him from doing the same tomorrow?”

  “The military won’t back you, true, but that’s no longer a concern. They won’t back anyone now, because General Mosebo’s dead.”

  “What?”

  Aaron said, “I killed him. He’s no longer in the equation. You have the police on your side, and that may be enough.”

  “Then why is the military doing this?”

  “They don’t know he’s dead, and we’ll use that to our advantage.”