by Leigh Barker
“Still, this sounds more like a joint DEA-CIA operation than one for the navy.”
SecNav sat on the sofa across the coffee table from Richard Callaghan, the director of the CIA. “Ordinarily I’d say yes and hand the whole thing over to you, but I have a team in play uniquely qualified to bring this mission home.” He raised his hand. “I mean no disrespect. I have no doubt, no doubt whatsoever that your boys and the DEA could make this happen.” He gave the director a moment to nod. “But we’re operating against a closing window. By the time the DEA and your agency have sorted out the pecking order, the politics, and who will get the credit or the blame, that window will be firmly closed.”
Callaghan sipped his scotch and watched his old friend over the rim of the glass. He was right, damn him. “So you have a team on the ground ready to make this happen?”
SecNav nodded. “Near enough.” He looked at his watch. “Twenty-four hours.”
“That’s tight. Why the rush?”
“The reason Milaris has put all his family jewels in one sack is, as you said, a bit paranoid, but the reality is even more bizarre.” SecNav took another sip of his drink. “He started getting junk email.”
Callaghan blinked hard twice. “What? We all get junk email. I get a shit load of it every day.”
“Yes, but you’re not a drug lord with a whole tier of lieutenants to keep you at arm’s length from your customers. Only a handful of people in the world should know how to contact him. Now everybody knows.”
“Junk email?”
SecNav nodded.
“But that’s just spam. It means nothing.”
“You know that, and I know that, but Milaris is clinically borderline paranoid. He sees assassins behind every curtain.”
“That’s not paranoia, that’s a fact of life in his business.”
“He overreacted, which is good news for us. Some geek told him the only way he’d be completely secure is to have no outside network connectivity and to put his data in a place where it can be watched constantly. Which he read as put it all on one mobile system and keep it with him at all times.”
“But that’s just nuts.”
“It is. And the opportunity of a lifetime for us.”
“So what’s closing the window?” The director held up his empty glass.
SecNav took the glass and returned to the dresser to top it up. “The geek, whoever he was, wasn’t totally stupid. He told him to build a data center with leading-edge user access security, intruder detection, electronic eavesdropping detection, the works. And that’s just what he’s doing.”
“How long?” Callaghan took the scotch and put it on the coffee table.
SecNav sat back down and put his drink on the coffee table. “It’s ready now. Going through some techy testing stuff. My informant estimates a week at best. Two days worst case.”
“Who’s your informant?”
SecNav picked up his drink and sipped it without taking his eyes off his peer. “You tell me yours and I’ll tell you mine.”
“You go first,” Callaghan said, and smiled. “The intelligence you get…”
“It’s yours. And the DEA’s, if you choose to share.”
“Then what’s in it for you?”
SecNav stood up. “The warm feeling I get from doing the best job I can for my country.”
Callaghan drained his glass and stood up. “Sure. Warm feeling is what we do this for, right?”
SecNav led the way to the door and held it open for him. “That and the big bucks.”
Callaghan was chuckling as he left.
It took eleven hours to fly to La Paz with a stopover at Bogota, a really fun place to spend time. After that La Paz was going to be Shangri La.
Andie had watched Ethan sleep all the way, with a sense of awe that anybody could sleep, wake, eat, and sleep again without any drugs. It suited her, she didn’t do small talk, but it was impressive.
When the plane touched down at El Alto International Airport, Ethan opened his eyes and sat up straight. “We there?” He leaned over her a little and squinted out into the darkness. “That was easy.”
“You might think so,” she said, easing away from him.
“You ever flown to Afghanistan in the cargo hold of a C-130?”
She shook her head.
“Trust me, this was an easy flight.”
“Ask the others, they’ll be in sometime before dawn.” He laughed quietly.
“You’re enjoying that, aren’t you?”
There was a chime from the PA and he unfastened his seat belt. “Perks of command. We get the flight that arrives in time to catch a good night’s sleep.”
She stared at him, her mouth slightly open. “But you’ve just slept for eleven hours straight.”
“That was travel sleep, not real sleep.”
She had no idea what that meant.
The taxi driver took Route 3 to La Paz rather than the more scenic route he was planning before he saw Ethan. So it wasn’t yet midnight when they reached the Casa Grande Hotel. Ethan checked them in, a suite for him and a room for his niece. The girl behind the reception desk didn’t raise an eyebrow. She didn’t need to, her little smile said it all. An old man and his toy girl away on a secret tryst.
Andie glared at him, but it worked for him, and it worked for the mission, so no complaints.
“I’m bushed,” he said, and trundled his expensive case towards the elevators. “I’ll see you for breakfast. Nine fifteen.”
The check-in girl shook her head and returned to her computer.
The morning came too fast and the others were down for breakfast on the shaded terrace when Ethan sauntered into the dining room, like a man with time on his hands. They were at separate tables, two at each, as they’d travelled. Guys on business or vacation. Not a suspicious-looking marine squad.
They didn’t acknowledge each other or Ethan, just sat and drank coffee in silence. Andie sat opposite Ethan and ignored the knowing looks from the businessmen sharing the lovely terrace.
After a full American breakfast and coffee, Ethan felt he could survive until lunch and strolled off the terrace as casually as he’d arrived, followed over the next ten minutes by the rest of the squad. Men on a business trip. To the casual observer it would have worked, but Ethan would’ve spotted them as military in a second.
He picked up a newspaper off the concierge’s desk, leaned against a marble pillar and looked over it at the reception area. From where he stood, he could see the wide stairs leading up to the mezzanine floor and above that all the floors right up to the roof, lit by the biggest curved window he’d ever seen, stretching across most of the front of the hotel and running up to the top floor.
None of the guests coming and going paid them any attention and no alarms rang in his head. So far they were in the clear. Experience told him that the best days were the ones that usually ended in the toilet.
They made their way to the bar on the roof, where the staff didn’t appear to think it the least bit strange that they should be in the bar at ten in the morning. Tourists were weird, businessmen away from home were even weirder; it was just part of the job.
There were a half dozen businessmen lounging on the sofas, discussing some important matter, with short drinks in their hands. Hair of the dog, or an early start on the day.
Ethan led the way to a table with a view of the city they didn’t notice and ordered coffee in case Loco did what he usually did.
“Well, we’re here,” Loco said.
They gave him a quick look and went on with their lives.
“We’re gonna need off-road transport if we’re heading into the jungle,” Smokey said.
“It’s a rainforest,” Winter said, then saw the look. “It’s not a jungle. You can walk through a rainforest, you ever tried walking through a jungle?”
“Once,” Smokey said. “It was raining.”
“We’ll need weapons too,” Winter said, ignoring him.
“That’s tak
en care of,” Ethan said, then shut up while the waiter put the tray of cups and coffee pots on the table and drifted away.
“Never doubted it,” Winter said, and looked at Chuck.
“See the guy in the corner, reading USA Today?” Chuck said, then quickly put his hand on Loco’s arm before he could turn around in his chair. “Don’t be a bigger idiot than we think you are.”
“Yeah,” Winter said, “oriental guy. Saw him when I arrived.”
“Can’t be missing that shirt,” Chuck said.
“He’s coming over,” Winter said, and focused on pouring his coffee.
The man crossed the bar and stood next to their table as if taking in the stunning view. His bright yellow and orange Hawaiian shirt could’ve made their eyes bleed.
Ethan pointed at the newspaper folded under his arm and the man took a second to realize he wanted to borrow it. He handed him the paper and pointed at the coffee and sat at the table with them. A fellow traveler befriending his countrymen. What could be more natural?
“Avenue Julio Patino,” the man said, and raised his coffee cup in thanks. “There’s a green Land Rover parked. Your goodies are under the floor in the trunk.”
“You a spook?” Loco said, and ignored the irritated looks from the others. “CIA or something?”
“Why don’t you rent a billboard?” the man said, with a smile that didn’t reach his eyes.
“Are you coming with us?” Loco said, well into the interrogation now.
The man squinted at him.
“No, he’s not coming with us,” Ethan said, his voice straining to sound friendly.
“Pity,” Loco said, and poured more coffee, since that was all that was on offer. “We meet any bad people, he could kung fu their ass.”
“That’s Chinese,” the man said through clenched teeth. “I’m Japanese American.” He put his cup down slowly. “And no, I don’t know karate either. Not every Japanese American is Mr. fucking Miyagi any more than every fucking Mexican drinks tequila and wears a fucking sombrero.”
Loco chuckled and raised his cup in salute. “Bet you fold a mean paper duck though?”
The man who wasn’t Mr. fucking Miyagi thanked them for the coffee and left, but not before giving Loco one last look.
“He doesn’t like you much,” Smokey said.
“Lots of people don’t like me.”
“Ain’t that the truth,” Winter said, before leaning across the table and tapping the newspaper. “Anything interesting in the news today?”
Ethan looked at the view, then at the men by the bar. “A present.” He tilted the newspaper and tipped a car key into his hand.
“Julio Patino is the next intersection south. Be there in twenty.” He stood up and stretched his shoulders. “Time for the meeting. Boss’ll already be there.”
He headed for the elevators with Andie right behind him, looking like a shy kid in a big city.
A few minutes later Andie leaned on the side of the old Land Rover while Ethan unlocked the back door, looked around and lifted the floor panel just enough to see beneath it. He let it drop back into place and opened the four doors to let some air in. It was cold out, no more than fourteen degrees, but sunny enough to heat up the old RV through the glass.
He got into the front passenger seat and waited for the rest of the squad to drift over and get in.
“Everything in place?” Winter said.
“It is.” Ethan handed the key to Smokey, who was doing the driving as usual. “CIA came through for us.”
“It’ll cost SecNav.”
“Not my problem.”
“Is there a toy for me in there?” Loco asked, wriggling for more room on the back seat between Winter’s bony body and Chuck’s bulk.
“M40A3 good for you?” Ethan said.
“That’s my baby.” Loco wriggled some more, gave up and extricated himself and sat next to Andie, facing Winter and Chuck, who relaxed into the free space. Travelling backwards was a pain, but better than the alternative.
“How long?” Ethan said.
“Ten hours, maybe eleven,” Chuck said. “Could be longer in this heap.”
Ethan didn’t answer and Andie sighed quietly and looked back over her shoulder. “He’s gone to sleep, hasn’t he?”
Nobody answered that either. She turned and found them lying back with their eyes closed.
Loco spoke without opening his eyes. “You should catch some sleep.”
“We’ve only been up four hours, how can you sleep?”
Loco opened one eye. “Middle of the night tonight you’re gonna wish you’d found a way.”
She reached under her legs and pulled out her backpack, took out her laptop and went to work on something nobody cared about.
“We there yet?” Loco said when the Land Rover bumped to a halt.
“What are you, six years old?” Winter said, also sitting up and squinting up at the interior light struggling to get through its yellowed plastic cover.
“I wish. The only soldier I had to worry about back then was GI Joe.”
Smokey rubbed his eyes with the heel of his hand and it took him a second to remember he’d swapped seats with Chuck; otherwise he’d be driving. And asleep. He glanced at Loco and grinned. “You have the elite troopers?”
“Yeah, and all the vehicles.”
“Cool.”
Chuck turned in the driver’s seat and gave them a hard look that shut them up faster than any shouted order.
“You want us to gear up, Gunny?” Smokey said quickly.
“If you don’t mind. As long as it’s not too much trouble. Wouldn’t want to put you out, you understand.”
Loco and Smokey almost fell out of the truck in their eagerness not to be put out.
Winter leaned over and opened his door. “Kids will be kids,” he said to Andie, sighed and got out.
Andie sat where she was and Ethan looked back from the passenger seat. “You know how to shoot?”
“I’m a marine.”
That wasn’t an answer.
“That’ll be no, then?”
“Not really.” She looked down at her laptop. “Never could get the hang of it. Computers are my thing.”
Ethan gave her a smile. “That’s why you’re here.” He nodded towards the back of the vehicle, where Gunny was handing the weapons to their appropriate user. “Let the heroes do the shooting.”
“Thanks, Master Sergeant.”
“Top will do just fine. The rest takes too long if you have to say it in a hurry.”
“Do we walk from here?”
“Not unless you’re up for a five-mile hike through the jungle.”
“Rainforest.” She smiled and looked down again. “Sergeant Winter, remember?”
“I do. Winter can be a bit…precise.”
“There’s a place for that. Precision in matters military is a good thing.”
“You read the manual, didn’t you?”
“Cover to cover.”
He got out and went to collect his weapon. Chuck handed him a brand new M16 and five clips.
“No grease in the barrel,” Chuck said. “Short of firing it, it seems to be in working order.”
Ethan rapped the magazines against his leg and pushed one into the M16 and the others into the pockets of his camouflage green hunting jacket. He looked around. “Loco got his baby?”
“M40A3,” Chuck said, “and an SMG for Smokey.”
“Then we’re loaded for bear,” Ethan said.
“Pity it’s not bears we’re hunting. These critters shoot back.”
“Let’s get mounted.” Ethan looked at the moon flickering through the forest canopy. “I want to get back to the hotel for breakfast. They do good bacon.”
“You seen the movie City Slickers?”
Ethan frowned. “Yeah, caught it in Camp Bastion. So?”
“Curly had bacon with every meal.” He saw Ethan’s frown deepen. “Billy Crystal buried him in the desert.” He chuckled. “And the hor
ses.”
“Yeah, but that’s just movies.”
“You go ahead and believe that, Top. You’re the boss.”
“I am?” He looked at the squad checking their weapons. “Sometimes I wonder.”
“I hear that.” Chuck watched them for a moment. “When you’re finished dicking around with your guns, we’ll get on with the mission entrusted to us by the men and women of the great United States.”
Ethan got into the truck and leaned back in the worn seat. “Sometimes I feel really old.”
“You say something, Top?” Andie looked up from her screen.
The men got into the back seats, with Loco sitting next to Andie, his forty-four-inch rifle slanting up over her laptop and across in front of her face. She pushed it away slowly with her fingertip.
“Sorry, miss,” Loco said.
“She’s not a miss,” Ethan said, without turning. “She’s a grunt, just like the rest of you.”
Loco looked her over before he could stop himself. She was wearing khaki hiking shorts, a dark long-sleeved top with horizontal stripes and sturdy boots. He didn’t get to see the boots, as he stopped where her top stretched across her breasts. He caught himself and looked up quickly.
“A grunt. Copy that, Top.” He went back to checking his M40.
Smokey got back in the driver’s seat now the going was about to get tough, glanced over his shoulder to make sure everyone was on board, and set the Rover moving slowly up the trail that was narrow enough for the passenger mirror to disappear after a hundred yards. He ignored it and hoped nobody had noticed.
He used the truck’s spotlights for another mile then reached under his seat, pulled on his night-vision goggles and killed the lights.
The noises from the men in the back told Ethan they were digging out their NVGs and getting ready for whatever they needed to be ready for. He put his goggles on but left them up. He’d seen whole squads disabled by spotlights coming on while they wore image intensifiers. Looking away wasn’t an option because they’d be scouring the trees for any surprises. At least one of them needed to be able to function.