Bishop's War (Bishop Series Book 1) (14 page)

Chapter 20

Ghosts

The crowd, filled
with spectators, friends, and family, continued to swell and was running out of patience as they watched fire fighters pound water onto the smoldering mass of rubble that had once been Still Bar.

“I need you all to back up!” said one of the cops straining to control what was quickly turning into an angry mob.

“You back the fuck up!”

“That’s our people in there!”

“What’s taking so long!?”

“How come they’re not going in?”

“If they won’t I will!”

“We all will!”

“Who’s in charge?”

“Those dudes over there drinking coffee.”

Captain Ryan, along with FBI, Bomb Squad, ATF, and ESU team leaders were getting an update from the Fire Chief when Special Agent in Charge Terry Hall jogged over.

“Where are we with this mess?”

“The fires are pretty well contained. The main problem now is the structural integrity of the two adjacent buildings. I don’t want my people or yours digging around for bodies and then have one or both of those six story monsters come down on top of them.”

“Can’t we shore them up?”

“Yeah we can, but we need cranes and braces.”

“Do it. How much time?”

“It’ll take at least an hour, maybe two to get all the equipment here from the Bronx and probably another four hours after that to make it safe. Its 2AM now, so by 8 we can start digging.”

“Make it happen. Jimmy, can your guys give the cranes a police escort and clear the streets so we can save some time?”

“Can do Terry.”

“Now, everything on this goes through me. Everything. And I want everyone sharing what they’ve got, whether it’s hard evidence or just a hunch. We clear?”

Heads nodded in agreement all around the circle that had formed on Terry.

“I’m reporting directly to the president on this so let’s not screw this up. The other thing is no one, and I mean no one, talks to the press. Get the word out to the rank and file. Anyone talks, they lose their badge on the spot. I’ll make a short statement now and we’ll give a full press conference in the morning after we start digging. All right, let’s get to work,” he said as he walked towards the screaming reporters.

“That’s Terry Hall from the FBI,” Gonzalo said.

“You know him?” Fiero asked.

“Met him once.”

“Turn the TV on so we can hear his statement.”

Calixto picked up the remote and pointed it at the wall mounted flat screen. They were looking down on the scene from a third floor apartment directly across the street. Benji Medina kept his head after the bombing. He acquired their new HQ by knocking on doors until he found the young couple willing to take twenty grand cash to vacate their home so Gonzalo and his brothers could see without being seen.

They all listened to the Terry Hall give his public statement on the TV behind them, but their eyes stayed glued to the smoking pile of twisted metal, split beams and crumbled bricks across the street. The boys were somewhere in that wreckage.

Carlos was nervously hitting his thigh with his fist. “This is taking too long,” he said.

“They’re worried about the side buildings coming down.”

“We can’t sit here for six or eight hours. They’re in there! They need help now!” Macho shouted.

Antonio burst through the front door with Benji. “You remember Manolo? He works for us and knows the back building. His sister lives there. We can go through her side window and it’s about twenty, maybe twenty-five feet down to the alley that connects to the back of the bar.”

“I’m going,” Carlos and Macho said at the same time.

“One of my guys was a medic in Iraq and I’ve got another who was an EMT,” said Benji. “I’ll get some of the kids to jack an ambo for supplies and load it into backpacks. I already ordered the rope ladders so give me ten minutes and we can go in.”

As Benji ran out of the room with Carlos and Macho, Antonio made another announcement.

“There’s someone downstairs in the lobby waiting to see you, Tio.”

“Who knows we’re here?’

Antonio handed him the business card that read CIA with the title of Deputy Director under the name.

“Ah. Bring him up. He is an old friend.”

Clayton Unser entered the room a minute later and Gonzalo directed him to the bedroom so they could speak privately.

“I’m very sorry about your nephews.”

“Is that why you are here? To tell me the CIA is sorry for my family’s suffering?”

“No. CIA doesn’t care about your family, but I do. The sorry is from me, Don Valdez.”

“Then thank you, old friend. Now what does CIA want?”

“Help.” Clayton handed over a thick manila folder. It was a complete dossier on Aziz Khan, his history, known associates, and all the intel that had been gathered so far on the attacks in New York.

“You understand this is personal for me. When I find anyone involved they stay alive only long enough to tell me who else is involved.”

“You’ll have no interference from us. Just do what you do best.”

“That’s it?”

“Yes… oh, there is one more thing,” Unser said. He handed Gonzalo a second folder.

“There always is.” Gonzalo opened the folder and smiled for the first time. “Now I know you need something from me in return.”

“Yes I do.”

“What?”

“Don’t kill them all. Get what you need, but save a few for us and fill me in on any information that can help us in the war on terror.”

“That’s it?”

“That’s it my friend. Will your people need assistance with international travel arrangements?”

“Yes. I will let you know when.”

“Good hunting, Gonzalo.”

“Thank you, Clayton.”

He walked Unser to the front door and turned to Fiero.

“Send them in.”

Kevin, Ed and Danny were working from their van parked a block away when they were ordered to come up. The mood in the room was tense and somber so other than head nods all around there were no formal greetings. Gonzalo handed over the folder on Aziz.

“This is the man responsible. Find him.”

“Aziz Khan? A lot of people have been trying to kill this guy for years.”

“You have a much shorter time line.”

“Yes, Don Valdez. We understand,” Kevin said uneasily.

“While you’re working on that you must first help us eliminate his entire local organization led by the nephew.”

“Anything else?” Kevin asked, as Danny began carefully taking pictures of each page with a high speed digital camera so they could upload them into their own system and leave the originals.

“Yes. This,” Gonzalo said. He dropped the second folder on the glass coffee table.

“Michael Meecham,” Kev said reading the file’s title aloud.

“He’s the Deputy Director of Homeland Security,” Ed said without opening it.

“He was.”

“Take action?”

“Him you just research for now.”

“We’re on it.”

“Gentlemen…”

“Yes sir?”

“Work fast. As you can see… this is… very personal,” Gonzalo said, pointing to the open window that framed the destruction across the street. “Fiero, Antonio and Benji are your direct contacts for everything. Keep us informed.”

Ed finished photographing the Meecham file just as Danny finished the one on Aziz.

“The soldiers are nearby?” Antonio asked.

“A block away.”

“There were three suspicious vehicles in the area before and after the bombing. One was the FBI; another was a civilian looking for parking. We checked inside after she found a spot and it’s clean. The third was a Lincoln Town car with tinted windows that arrived ten minutes before and left right after. We followed from a distance. It’s at a warehouse in Brooklyn in Redhook. Here’s the address. We also tailed the cab that dropped off the bomber. It’s parked in front of a house in Queens, but an FBI SWAT team is there too so go to Redhook and my men will watch what happens to the cab driver.”

“Alright. You want more men with us?”

“You remember Chepe?”

“Sure. Good man in a firefight.”

“He’s downstairs waiting for you with five more soldiers, all ex-military. They will back up Christmas and his team. Now listen to me very, very carefully. Tell Christmas to make sure they leave some alive. Alive, you understand? We will have questions for them.”

“We’ll make sure, Antonio.”

They were hurrying down the hallway when Kevin put a hand on each of his partners.

“Remember when we said we wanted to help the president on this one?”

“Yeah. So?”

“Well I think we are. In the Aziz file there were copies of the President’s Daily Brief. The fuckin’ PDB man! The National Intelligence Advisor hand delivers it to the pres first thing every morning. That’s as top secret as it gets and Gonzalo just gave it over like it’s something he reads every day.”

“Our man is well connected.”

“That’s all the way connected. This is one time when we can’t let our bosses down.”

“After just looking into those murderous yellow eyes I’m a lot more worried about disappointing Gonzalo Valdez than I’ll ever be about our president,” Danny said.

“Me too,” Ed said. “Me too.”

Kev called Christmas as they walked down the street and away from the crowds with Chepe.

“Mount up. Rolling out in sixty seconds.”

“Roger that. Rolling in sixty.”

Two blocks away Bobby, Able, Mace, and Bear walked up to the Mack truck that was the mobile Special Operations Command Center. They all came to attention and saluted General Palmer when he met them at the side door.

“At ease, gentlemen.”

“Any word on our boy, sir?”

“They can’t go in yet because the adjacent buildings may collapse.”

“Let us go in and get him out.”

The general shook his head, “I have a mission for you. We tracked the cab that delivered the bomber. I’m glad you’re already in civilian clothes. No military uniforms while we operate on American soil. There’s a weapons locker in the back. Gear up and be ready to move out in five.”

“Yes sir,” said Team Razor.

“Listen men, I know how you feel about Sergeant Bishop. If he’s alive we’ll get him out shortly. You’re going to be the tip of the spear on this Op, and I can’t have you guys climbing on that pile of rubble with the whole world watching.”

“Understood sir,” Bear said. “Alright, you heard the general. Night Vision Systems, comm gear, vests, weapons, ammo and ready to roll out in four minutes.”

Back at the bomb site Maria was at the front of the crowd with her mother and father. Grassiella, Marci and Silvi were standing with them.

“Oh God, why is it taking so long? Where’s Gonzalo and his brothers? Can’t they do something?” Maria asked.

“The family is at war now,” Silvi said.

“At war?”

“Yes, my sweet girl. Gonzalo will figure out a way to help the boys, but he will also find all those responsible for this,” Grassiella said.

“Shouldn’t he leave that to the police?”

“That is not our way. You should know that since you are about to marry into the family.”

“You know it too, don’t you?” Maria asked.

“Yes, I know it. I know Johnny is alive. I feel him like I feel my own heart beating.”

“Then where is he?!"

“Trying to find a way out of that,” she said looking across the street.

The bright flood lights illuminating the destruction created a stark contrast with the night sky. The crumbled building continued to send up wisps of smoke that looked liked tendrils of morning mist reaching up towards the heavens. Anxious to see something happen, everyone stared intently, their tension mounting. Family, friends, policemen, firemen, even reporters all took a sudden and audible intake of breath when they saw two chalk white figures emerge through the haze. Looking down on the crowd from the highest point on the pile they seemed to generate their own light, glowing like angels.

“Ghosts!” a young girl shouted.

“Those aren’t ghosts. Those are the boys,” Grassiella said, her eyes welling up.

“We need some help over here, God damn it!”

“That’s John! Johnny!” Maria screamed.

“We need a crow bar and a blow torch!”

“And that’s my Felix,” Marci said.

“But where’s Chris?” Silvi asked fearfully as the crowd surged forward.

From a window in the back building Macho came down the rope ladder with Carlos right behind him. Ignoring the danger they madly scrambled up to John and Felix. They were both bleeding from numerous cuts and scratches by the time they reached the cousins.

“Where is he?!” screamed Macho. He grabbed John’s shirt with both hands, his eyes pleading. “Where is he?!"

“He’s way down there in the basement, Tio. My friend is with him. He’s hurt and we can’t get him out without tools.”

“Let’s go,” Macho said. “These guys are medics. Felix you wait for Benji. He’s getting the torch. Take this phone and press three to call him. Tell him anything else you think we need.”

“It’s a maze down there. The flashlights make it easier, but be careful. This thing wants to bite and stab you at every turn,” John said as he crawled back down into the small black hole.

Carlos was the last to go in and he held his son Felix for a long moment. “What’s this white powder all over you?”

Felix looked down at his clothes seeing the white dust for the first time. “Plaster. Flour… I don’t know. Chris is all fucked up, Dad. He’s trapped by a heavy steel beam and a pipe went right through him.”

“We’ll get him out,” Carlos said. He lovingly put his hand on his son’s face before going down to help his wounded nephew. The touching scene was replayed over and over again on every network.

Across the street and a few feet behind Maria it was also witnessed by a lone figure who looked on with both fascination and indifference.

“You failed again Amir Khan,” Omar whispered.

Chapter 21

Twenty-four seconds

Redhook, Brooklyn

They all knew
they were in the right place given the tight security around the facility, but the assault on the warehouse was taking longer than expected. Cameras faced the street, the windows were boarded up, and a sophisticated alarm system added to what the inhabitants thought was a safe blanket of protection.

“Danny says he needs five more minutes to neutralize the alarm,” Ed said.

“Then we wait,” Christmas said.

“I always meant to ask you, where’d the name ‘Christmas’ come from?”

Kevin chuckled. “You don’t know?”

“No. Know what?”

“Go ahead Christmas, we’ve got time. Tell Ed how you got your name.”

“Alright,” he said, pausing for dramatic effect. “I was still a SEAL at the time. Just finished six months of heavy action and came back stateside for the holidays. I met this hottie before I went on my tour, and she wrote me letters begging me to come stay with her for a few days. So I show up at her house the day before Christmas Eve, the blood barely washed off, still smelling like death. Anyway, turns out she’s a general’s daughter and we’re staying at the family compound up in Connecticut.”

“He must’ve loved you.”

“He was a retired desk jockey from the Pentagon, but still soldier enough to recognize a killer when he saw one. The man was none too pleased. He put me in a room on the other side of the house as far away from his little girl as possible.”

“Surprised they didn’t have you stay with the help.”

“Man, him and his wife were so chilly I would’ve been warmer sleeping in a tent outside in the snow.”

“So what happened?”

“Well, keep in mind I hadn’t had sex in months. I knew the daughter was gonna clean my pipes good, but I couldn’t get near her. Anyway, I slept in on Christmas Eve and the whole family had gone to town to do some last minute shopping. So I’m chillin’ in the living room, eating cookies, and looking over at their ten foot tree when this one ornament catches my eye.”

“Angel?”

“Far fuckin’ from it. It was this little burlesque type figurine with huge tits, a fat ass, and juicy red lips. It was even holding up two purple feathers like she was ready to put on a show.”

“Freaky.”

“Yeah, well I ain’t never seen a slutty Christmas ornament before or since, but I couldn’t take my eyes off it. Next thing I know I’m rock hard and ready to bust. I shoulda just gone back to my room, or yanked it in the bathroom, but that dirty little thing had me going.”

“You didn’t.”

“Yeah, I did. The whole family walked in right when I shot my load. A perfect shot that sailed high and hit the ornament right in the tits. The rest was hanging off a branch like wet tinsel.”

Ed was cracking up. “You sick fuck.”

“Talk about trimming the tree,” Kev said, shaking his head.

“Yeah, well I didn’t even bother asking for a ride. Just packed my shit and walked out the door.”

“Wow.”

“When I got back to the Teams my CO threw me under the bus. In front of twenty SEAL’s he says, ‘Randall, there’s a retired general going around saying that you jerked off on his Christmas tree in front of his wife and daughter. Can this be true?’ After I confessed I was branded Christmas for life.”

“You still think about her?”

“The general’s daughter?

“No, the slutty ornament.”

“Yeah, I do, and I’ve been banging thick, big titty women ever since.

“Unrequited love.”

“It’s a powerful thing.”

The go signal came through their headsets, indicating that Danny was ready.

“Okay, here we go. Danny’s gonna shut it down it in exactly sixty seconds from… three, two, one, now.”

“Minty’s on the roof, Boogie’s going in through the back and I’m hitting the front. See you in a few,” Christmas said. He exited the van. Dressed as a bum, he stumbled down the street like a drunkard.

“There’s seven guys in there. Three are near the back and the other four are in the center of the room. Remember, we need some for interrogation,” Kev said into the microphone.

“Done,” Christmas said. Getting in character, he took a swig of water from a quart sized vodka bottle.

Sitting in the van a block away, the Pro KEDDSS team watched the action unfold on a computer screen linked to their custom-made ultra-wide-band heat and motion detector which allowed them to literally see through walls. The choreography was perfect. Danny shut off the alarm and the cameras, then turned out all the lights, throwing the five thousand square foot space into total darkness. A second later Minty came through the sky light, Christmas breached the front door and Boogie blasted through a back door on the loading dock. Wearing night vision goggles they could clearly see the seven terrorists stumbling around and shooting blindly.

Two of the fighters had been in combat. They stood back to back, calmly firing their pistols in a shoulder high arch. They couldn’t see anything, but still provided decent three hundred and sixty degree cover for each other. Christmas’ took aim with his silenced MP 5 and squeezed twice. Both terrorists crumpled to the floor from the head shots.

From above Minty watched two bearded men pull machine guns from the trunk of the Lincoln Town Car. They were just cocking the AK-47’s when he opened up, giving each double taps high on the forehead. The blood spray glowed bright green through his night vision sensors.

The final group of three was trying to go out with a bang. Fumbling with wires in the dark, they tried to attach a detonator to a big block of C4. Boogie slid in behind one of them, stabbing him in the heart, lungs and throat with quick, precise and powerful strokes. The two remaining terrorists didn’t know their comrade was dead when Boogie silently moved in. He cracked one in the temple with the hilt of his combat knife, knocking him out cold. The last man standing still couldn’t see, but heard the noise and turned towards Boogie, gun in hand. Boogie came in low under the weapon, extended his enemy’s arm out over his own shoulder and pulled down hard. The elbow bent the opposite way, snapping the bones with a loud crack. Its owner’s high pitched scream was cut short when Boogie pulled his arm around the man’s throat and choked him to sleep.

“All clear.”

“Clear.”

“Time?” Christmas asked.

“Twenty-four seconds,” Kev answered back from the van.

“Okay, make sure you save the tape. We’ll review it later.”

“You got it.”

Danny turned the lights back on and Chepe came in his with men. He walked up to the three killers and bowed formally, showing his respect. Chepe himself was a skilled warrior, but these men were in another league.

Kev and Ed drove the van to the back of the warehouse, coming in through the loading dock while the two unconscious survivors were bound and gagged.

“Those two are in for a world of hurt,” Danny said.

“Fuck ‘em. I got no respect for any man that kills innocent people,” Ed said.

“I’m with you on that. Alright fellas, let’s get to work. Gather any evidence and get photos of everything, including the bodies,” Kev said.

“We’re leaving them?”

“Yeah, they stay.”

“God damn!”

“What?”

“Take a look at this.”

Everyone walked over to look at the back of a big Con Edison utility truck. It was packed with explosives. U.S. military C4 still in its original casing was stacked eight feet high and ten feet deep.

“The truck comes with us,” Kev said.

East Elmhurst, Queens

The FBI helicopter had been flying high overhead when the bomber exited the cab in front of Still Bar. They tracked the cab over the bridge to this three story house in Queens and waited until an FBI SWAT team arrived on the scene. The SWAT team stayed out of site and waited for Special Ops to do the assault. They wanted a live body for interrogation, but once the FBI took someone into custody their hands were tied in terms of how the prisoner was treated and de-briefed. Special Ops was off the radar on this and no such restrictions applied.

“Johnny’s alive,” Able said, as they exited the truck two blocks from the house.

Mace pumped his fist. “That’s what I’m talking about!”

“We all know our boy is hard to kill,” Bobby said.

“He’s gonna be pissed at the people that tried,” Bear said.

“Johnny’s always deadly, but when he’s actually mad at someone they might as well just shoot themselves in the head and get it over with,” Mace said.

“Be less painful,” Bobby added.

“Alright, let’s get this terrorist alive if possible, but don’t get yourselves killed trying to do it,” Bear said to his team as they approached the SWAT commander.

“What’s it look like Captain?”

“The cab’s parked in the driveway. There’s been no movement since he entered. The curtains are drawn, but the second and third floors have lights on.”

“Means he’s probably in the basement.”

“That’d be my guess. It’s been quiet so I can’t tell you how many are in there.”

“Think he spotted you?”

“I don’t think so. We came in stealthy and you can barely see the house from here. The bird’s still up there, but it’s so high you can’t even hear it.”

“The dude drove straight here so unless he’s a complete dipshit this is a setup,” Bobby said.

“A setup?”

“Yeah, that house is gonna blow as soon as anyone steps inside. A hundred bucks says there’s a tunnel in the basement leading to another house nearby,” Bobby said as he scanned the neighborhood. His eyes locked on a two story home about fifty yards away. It was isolated and had lots of hedges and trees so you could barely see the structure. “There. That’s where he is.”

“Just like that?” asked the SWAT Captain.

“Just like that.”

“I’ve been doing this with him for five years now and he ain’t been wrong yet. He always knows which hole the gopher’s in,” Able said.

“Captain you should expand your perimeter in case their tunnel has more than one exit,” Bear said.

The house was dark and quiet as they approached silently through a world turned fluorescent green by their night vision goggles. Moving past the hedges each member of Team Razor got into position. They checked for alarms or booby traps, then went into action. Their timing down to the split second, Bear and Bobby fired concussion grenades through the windows on the top floor, Mace tossed one through the front door, and Able threw his through the small basement window. All four grenades went off simultaneously, rocking the house on its foundation.

They rushed in two on each door, Bobby and Able in the back and Bear and Mace through the front. Bear immediately saw an enemy fighter working to clear his head. He had blood coming out of his eyes and ears and both his legs were shredded from the blast. He was trying to raise a twelve gauge shotgun when Bear shot him twice, heart and head, with his MP5.

Able charged up the stairs with Bobby close behind. They quickly checked every room and gave the all clear on their headsets.

Mace ran down the basement stairs and saw an arm extending an army issue .45 towards him. He opened up on full auto and in less than a second the arm was ripped from its owner’s shoulder and lay bloody and twitching on the basement floor. The now one armed terrorist stepped out into the open and looked down in shock at his own appendage before collapsing forward.

There was one more man around the corner in a separate room. He’d been sitting at a desk when Able’s concussion grenade went off. The desk shielded him from the shrapnel, but the shock wave knocked him out of his chair. He was lying flat on his back with arms and legs spread wide, alive, but out cold.

“Clear.”

“Clear.”

“I think that’s all of them, but let’s find the tunnel and make sure,” Bear said.

“Will you look at this.”

They all gathered around the table. The monitor showed a three hundred and sixty degree view around the other house with the cab in front of it. A flashing red button with wires running across the basement floor was obviously the trigger.

“They lit up the top floors so they could see us coming. Anyone assaulting that place would’ve been blown sky high.”

“Nice work Bobby.”

“Alright now that we’re done jerking each other off let’s call in the troops. Put some pressure on that wound and see if we can save the one armed bandit over there and secure the sleeping bomber.”

Bear spoke into his headset, “We’re done here, sir. Three bad guys. One dead, one alive and one badly wounded. Lots of evidence here for the FBI to sift through,”

“Well done, Chief. Leave the body, extract the prisoners and exit the premises before the lights and cameras get there. I’m out front with transportation.”

“Yes sir.”

“You heard the man, Razor. We’re outta here.”

“By the way, how’d we do, Bear?” Mace asked.

“I had us clocked at twenty-four seconds.”