Black Flagged Redux (49 page)

There was a long pause.

"I have no intention of stealing away with Reznikov. I just wanted to drive home the point that you need the kind of capabilities my organization can provide," Sanderson said.

"We have plenty of assets suitable for these operations," General Gordon said.

"And they're all wrapped up in red tape, constrained at every turn. How long would it have taken to put a Delta team in Stockholm? If we hadn't been in place, the Russians would have captured or killed Reznikov, flushing all of your links to the bigger plot down the toilet."

"General, I appreciate your gesture and will rely on General Kearney's previous assessment of your character to ensure that you carry through on your promise to deliver Reznikov. If you have no further information to offer, I'd like to bring General Gordon's people home," the president said.

"Reznikov's yours, but I think you're overlooking my main bargaining chip."

"If you take action against the assault force, I'll bring to bear the full resources of the United States to hunt you down. They'll find you holed up like Saddam Hussein," the president said.

"I'd rather die myself than endanger these brave warriors, but I have no problem causing irreparable damage to your administration. Compliments of a very well connected businessman here in Argentina."

"Ernesto Galenden," Shelby said.

"Yes, thanks to Galenden, I'm holding some very hard to come by telephone numbers. The Chilean and Argentinian Defense Ministers for starters. Better yet, I have a direct line to the 31st Electronic Detection Group's commanding officer. Coincidentally, the group commander picked tonight for quick reaction drills. It was a last minute decision. I'm told that their Boeing 707 Condor is fueled and can be airborne in five minutes. I have arranged for several phone calls to be placed, all alerting the base to a large formation of low flying helicopters just north of Villarica. I probably don't need to remind you that the Condor carries the Phalcon radar system. 200 nautical miles of three hundred and sixty degree coverage, both in the air and on the surface. I'm pretty sure they'd pick up your birds as soon as they leveled off over the airbase in Puerto Montt. I might be wrong about the helicopters, but I can't imagine they would miss the
BOXER
."

"That action could endanger the strike force, General," the president said.

"I can't imagine it would lead to a military scenario, Mr. President. It will, however, lead to the second worst day of your presidency. An armed incursion violating the sovereignty of our two strongest allies in South America? The secretive deployment of U.S. warships off the coast of Chile. All to capture me? I think the international community might be a little more forgiving if the mission involved capturing Osama Bin Laden or some other high level member of Al Qaeda. But a lowly General Terrence Sanderson? What did he do—other than run a controversial covert operations program in the nineties—that the U.S. government would apparently do anything to keep quiet, including invade other countries? See where I'm going with this? Maybe it's time to let the public decide whether they need the Black Flag program. Maybe they need to know why they're not all dying from encephalitis in National Guard tents…or lighting their own children on fire in a virus-induced rage. Why? Because General Sanderson believed so wholeheartedly in what he was doing, that he personally funded the creation of a new covert operations program. A program so successful, that it singlehandedly derailed Al Qaeda's plot to attack the West with a weaponized version of the encephalitis virus. A virus that has already wreaked havoc on the unsuspecting city of Monchegorsk. I'm sure the fate of Monchegorsk will start generating some attention once Reuters breaks the story."

A contemplative silence descended on the conference room, followed by fierce whispering between the president and his present cabinet. The door opened, and the White House chief of staff entered, followed closely by a serious-looking woman in an impeccable black business suit. She carried a small laptop computer under one arm and a briefcase in the other. Shelby assumed she was the most senior legal counsel present at the White House. He had hoped to see someone from the Justice Department walk through the door, though he was fairly certain that some very unhappy lawyers were receiving phone calls at this very moment.

"We'll need some time to discuss this," the national security advisor said.

"I also have some nice, high definition video of the entire operation at the compound. It would be pretty hard to deny that these were American helicopters or American service members. The word MARINES and the U.S. emblem is pretty clear on my screen. Right next to the zero seven designation. I'm giving you two minutes to sort this out. Immunity gets your helicopters back undetected and buries the digital evidence of your landing."

Shelby heard just about every type of comment as he sat there, feeling completely irrelevant. There was no way the president could grant this man immunity. He would not permit it…though admittedly, there was nothing he could do about it. The comments continued to stream.

"He just tagged one of the Super Stallions loading our marines."

"He has eyes on the LZ."

"I don't see any other options. This will not go well if they put the Condor up. I don't know how we missed that."

"There's nothing we can do about the Condor. It might even pick up the
DECATUR
."

"Giving him a pass is the best option right now. He can blow the lid on this whole thing. Keep in mind that we lost an armed drone over Kazakhstan. Nobody over there has figured that one out yet, but he has witnesses."

"I agree with the national security advisor. We need to focus on the developing Al Qaeda threat. The last thing we need is a full blown international incident shattering our credibility," the secretary of state whispered.

The president pulled General Gordon away from his seat, and Shelby overheard snippets of a discussion about the possibility of the helicopters slipping under radar. The HH-60Hs flown by the Firehawks squadron had been reconfigured with stealth composite material that drastically reduced their radar cross section, but they came nowhere close to matching the stealth capabilities of the custom built Special Operations Black Hawk helicopters that had just entered service in support of Tier One assets like Delta Force and SEAL Team Six. The two CH-53 Super Stallions on the mission had been given a basic Special Operations reconfiguration that paled in comparison to the HH-60Hs. Gordon didn't sound optimistic, unless they could employ some sort of active jamming from
DECATUR
.

**

Five hundred meters away from the compound, deep in the woods on the opposite side of the river, Jared Hoffman stared through the ATN Mars 6x Night Vision scope attached to his OM 50 Nemesis sniper rifle. In experienced hands, the Swiss-made .50 caliber rifle could support a consistent three-inch shot grouping at 900 meters. Hoffman had considerable experience with this weapon, and at less than 500 meters, he could tighten that grouping to less than two inches.

Lying next to him in a specially-constructed hide site, Dhiya Castillo watched three helicopters land along the long stretch of road in front of the compound. She confirmed the range to the rear helicopter for Hoffman. They had waited for several hours in the hide site, shielded from satellite detection by the thick earthen ceiling. The hide site sat slightly submerged in the ground, allowing Hoffman to comfortably rest the sniper rifle on its bipod within the structure. His headset echoed Parker's voice, and he whispered to Dhiya, "Here we go. Confirm range again."

He could see that the helicopters had finally settled in as SEALs ran from covered positions to their transportation.

"Four hundred and sixty meters," she said.

He wouldn't need to make any adjustments to the night vision scope. He started to breathe slowly and centered the orange crosshairs on the last helicopter's tail rotor assembly, removing some slack from the trigger. He let the crosshairs settle and removed the rest. The powerful rifle pummeled his shoulder and created a muffled crack. The ridiculously large, custom made suppressor reduced the .50 caliber explosion to a sound that could still wake a person out of a dead sleep. However, with three helicopters roaring on the road, nobody would hear the shot. He sighted in on the tail rotor again, ready to send another armor-piercing projectile through the rotor. Five seconds later, he heard Dhiya's assessment.

"Tail rotor just ripped itself to shreds. Nice shot."

**

Frederick Shelby heard commotion from the SEALs through the microphone attached to the helmet recording device. The helmet had been placed on the table facing the screen so Lieutenant Commander Daly could do his job while the White House Situation Room watched General Sanderson on the screen. A few seconds later, General Frank Gordon stopped in mid-conversation with the president and asked for a confirmation of something that had just been passed to him over his headset. Shelby wished he could hear what was going on.

"Mr. President, I've just been informed by the SEAL commander that one of the helicopters is grounded at the LZ. Hellfire 1-3 experienced a catastrophic tail rotor failure and had to shut down."

"Can they fix it?" the president said, already shaking his own head with the answer.

"Negative. The rotor shredded itself, along with the rotor housing assembly. I'm afraid it's not going anywhere," he said.

"Shit," the president muttered, "so now he has one of our helicopters to show the Argentinians and the rest of the world. Can they destroy the helicopter and render it unrecognizable?"

"They can turn it into a smoldering hulk, but he has video of the entire operation. It won't be hard for anyone to put two and two together here."

Sanderson's voice boomed over the speakers.

"Mr. President, my observer reports that one of your helicopters is inoperable. I'd be glad to take care of this mess for you, in exchange for a deal. Otherwise, you'll see footage of that helicopter on the
Today Show
," Sanderson said.

The president consulted with the woman who had entered with his chief of staff. She referenced a thick document taken from her briefcase and nodded. He turned back toward the conference table.

"Turn the microphone back on."

"Mr. President, please tell me you're not going to give this criminal immunity. This is blackmail. Any immunity deal signed today could be challenged in court as produced under duress."

"I'm well aware of the circumstances, and if my immunity deal is indeed challenged by any of the courts, I'll know where to come looking first. General Gordon."

The commander of the Joint Special Operations Command flipped a switch next to his computer, and the LED under the microphone turned green. He nodded at the president.

"General Sanderson, I accept the terms we've discussed and offer you the immunity you seek. It'll take some time to produce the documents and have them reviewed by counsel. In the interim, may I have your assurances that the helicopters will not be hindered during their withdrawal to
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?"

"If you provide me with a readily accessible email address or fax number, I'll be happy to send you a copy of the document I have prepared, along with contact information for my lawyers, who are standing by as we speak. Pardon me for highlighting the fact that I am somewhat of a Cold War relic, but I follow the mantra 'trust but verify.' I'll give you twenty minutes to get a signed agreement into my lawyers' hands. It's not a lengthy document."

"It sounds like you were prepared for this moment," the president stated.

"I'm prepared for every contingency, Mr. President."

"Apparently. General Gordon has the information needed to send your document to the Situation Room. We'll have it to your lawyers within twenty minutes, as long as it doesn't contain any surprises."

"No surprises, Mr. President. I just want to assure and protect the liberty of the selfless men and women that have served in my program. I did add a small presidential pardon to the document. One of my operatives was picked up by Customs last February, while en route to pay last respects to his recently deceased grandfather. He may or may not have been convicted of a federal customs crime. Either way, he's disappeared and I want to make sure he reappears a free man."

"I don't have a problem with that. General Gordon, let's get this done. General Sanderson?" the president said.

"Yes, sir?" Sanderson responded.

"I'm sorry for the loss of your men."

"Thank you, sir."

"Based on the circumstances, we won't be able to retrieve them properly."

"I understand, sir. Nature of the business."

"Unfortunately. We'll be in touch," the president said and stood up.

Director Shelby had to use every ounce of restraint he possessed not to launch into a tirade. This had been a set up from the start. From Victor Almadez's arrest to this very moment. All orchestrated to provide Sanderson with the leverage he needed to get a presidential immunity agreement. Despite the fact that he'd been warned directly by the president, he wouldn't rest until this conspiracy was unraveled. Someone in this room had helped facilitate this entire fiasco and he'd get to the bottom of it.

His money was on one of the generals or admirals, though he couldn't quite shake the notion that Gerald Simmons was involved. For all he knew, they were all in on this. Sanderson was one of theirs, a member of this tightly knit group of Special Operators, or whatever they liked to call themselves. The only one he really trusted was Major General Bob Kearney. He hadn't spent a single day of his entire career as one of these "shadow warriors." Hopefully, Kearney would help him uncover the traitor in this group. At the same time, he'd do some poking around the CIA. He'd love to know how Sanderson got hooked into the CIA. If he couldn't prosecute any of Sanderson's crew, maybe he could do something about the criminals running illegal operations out of Langley.