Freedom's Promise: Task Force 125 (10 page)

Will looked up at Brian who was leaning on the fireplace mantle.  "Brian let's get the choppers prepped and ready for action and make sure the explosives are ready."

"You got it, brother."

Jason moved to step downstairs just as Chris returned from the basement with a handful of photos and another handful of notes.  He dropped them on the coffee table, plopped onto the couch, and started organizing the photos to create a large satellite picture.  He rattled off important tactical information to nobody in particular as he moved the photos around the table.

"I took shots from every angle I could get.  The whole place is solid concrete.”

The team gathered around the low table to examine the photos. 

“The clear area around the compound is two kilometers in every direction.  The compound wall is a complete three-sixty with only two gates.”  He pointed to gates on the East and West sides of the compound.  “Here and here.  The good news is there are a couple of advisors in the village attached to Jason's old unit.”  He glanced up at Will.  “Maybe we can work that connection?"

Jason seemed thrilled.  "Get out!"

"Yeah, any chance you know a Gene Fonseca or Rob Danitz?"

Jason grinned.  "Gino and I go way back.  He'll help us out."

Will
pointed
to the basement door.  “Make the calls now, Jase.  We’ll take care of the weapons later.”

Jason nodded.  “I'll see if I can get the number to Gino's Sat-phone and get in touch."

Brian parked himself on the couch and leaned over the photos Chris had laid out, rubbing his hands in anticipation.  "Let's see what we're going to reduce to rubble here."

Will and Chris carefully taped the edges of the photos together to create a large satellite image of the area in and around Nikolai’s compound.  Satisfied
that every edge was in its proper place, Will pulled a cigar from his breast pocket and lit it.  He looked around the coffee table at everyone. 

"All right, listen.  This guy is Red Mafia, and he's bound to have some mean security.  We'll need to hit him hard and fast and clean the whole scene.  Make no mistake, this won't be pretty."

Brian leaned forward and rested his elbows on his knees.  "We're all in, Will.  What's the plan?"

"We're going with a time tested technique. 
Speed, surprise and violence."

~~~

During a break in the tactical planning session, Sarah went upstairs to change into something more comfortable.  She returned wearing a pair of jeans and one of Vince's button-down shirts.  She walked through the hallway just as Jason came up from the basement.  “Have you been on the phone down there this whole time?”

Jason put his arm around Sarah’s shoulder as they walked into the living room.  “Hey, it ain’t easy tracking down a top secret phone number and then hacking into it so your call isn’t traced or monitored.”

“You did all that?”  She stopped and stared with admiration.  “Here I thought you were just another pretty face.”

Jason smiled and bobbed his eyebrows at Sarah.  “That's part of the fun, isn't it?  Listen to everything that goes on in planning, kid.  Behind the scenes is where the real spy shit happens.”

They sat on the floor between the fireplace and the coffee table and examined the notes Brian, Chris, and Will had made on the satellite photo mosaic.

Will looked up from the legal pad he had been furiously scratching notes on.  “Jason, what did you get?  Tell me something good.”

Jason pulled a notepad from his cargo pocket.  "Okay, I talked to Gino.  They're in.  Gino and Rob are up for logistical support but can't get caught
doing anything tactical.  They have a couple trucks we can use and know a place where we can camp and keep the choppers undetected." 

“Excellent.”  Brian nodded.

Jason handed Will a slip of paper.  "These are the coordinates.”

Will noted the coordinates on his legal pad and passed the slip of paper to Chris. 

Jason continued while Chris took notes.  “All we need to do is give Gino a head's up when we're coming in.  He'll make sure it's clear.  He's got an in with some local Bedouins and will get us a couple tents, about the size of GP Mediums so they'll be big enough for all of us."

“Good work, Jason.  Damned lucky you had an in that close.  That'll make things much easier. 
Anything else?”

“Oh, yeah, there's no love or loyalty from the local tribe for Nikolai.  They steer clear of his compound for the most part.  He pays them off pretty regularly and they take the money, but there won't be any hearts broken if he's blown off the map.  Gino is positive Nikolai won’t get any backup locally from the Al Han’ah.”

Brian sat bolt upright and said the words that were also on the tip of Sarah’s tongue.  “What did you say?”

Jason gave Brian a blank stare.  “What?”

“What’s that tribe’s name again?”

Jason checked his notes and pointed to the name he'd written.  “Al Han’ah.”

Little lines creased at the edges of Brian’s eyes and he grinned wide as he punched Will in the arm. 
“
Fuckin
’ ay, Will!”

Will let out a sigh and leaned back against the couch.  His crystal blue eyes glowed with the same relief Sarah felt.

Sarah's skin tingled with the possibilities this opened for them.  She knew this was exactly what they needed to get the upper hand.  She grinned at Brian. 
“
Me against my brother, me and my brother against our cousin, me, my brother and my cousin against the stranger.”

Brian pointed to Sarah with one hand and to his nose with the other, as if they were playing charades.  “That’s it!”

Chris laid a curious stare on Brian.  "What the hell are you talking about?" 

Brian jumped out of his seat and shook his head. 
"Dude!
  Have you not read the background information in my dossier?"

Chris stared up at him, confused.  "I've read the important stuff."  He rattled off bullet points from Brian's resume.  "Fifteen years as a SEAL. 
One of the Navy's best demolition men.
 
Forty some odd successful missions."

"Chris, my father's family name is Al Han'ah.  He emigrated from
Saudi Arabia
."

Guinea
snorted.  "And this is your intelligence guy?"  He chuckled.  "Some things never change."

"Hey now."
  Will sat straight and took a drink from his glass.  "Chris doesn't need to know everyone's family history."  Will gestured at all the photographic intelligence they had before them.  "He does a damned fine job as it is."

Brian smiled an apology and patted Chris on the shoulder.  "You're doing fine, man.  I don't broadcast my family history for obvious reasons.”  He checked his watch.  “First prayer just finished.  I'll make some calls right now.  The head of the family is my second cousin, Hamza, so I’ll see what information I can get from him."  Brian left the room and disappeared down the basement stairway.

Guinea
squinted at Will and punctuated his question by pointing with his cigarette between his first two fingers.  “Willy, how’s a guy with close Arab connections like he seems to have get the kind of clearance needed to do this work?”

Sarah watched Jason’s shoulders pull back the way they always did before a fight.  She had seen him recoil and spring like a cat when people disrespected his friends.  She laid her right hand gently on his knee.

Stay cool, Jase.  He doesn’t know us.

Will sat back and re-lit his cigar as he eyed
Guinea
.  “
Guinea
,
let me tell you about that man.  Brian’s father did three tours in
Vietnam
and even his bones didn’t come back from the third one.  His mother’s family has been ranching in
Texas
since before it was an independent republic.”

“And
commmies
have been living in the
U.S.
for a century, Billy.”

Comparing Brian to a Communist was more than Sarah was willing to stand for.  She sprung off the floor.  “Now wait a fucking minute!”

Jason grabbed her arm before she could cross the room to
Guinea
.

“Sarah.”  Will’s brotherly warning and the determined look in his eyes told her he had this under control. 

She fumed as Jason pulled her arm, and she lowered herself to the edge of the couch.

Will turned back to
Guinea
.  “Brian passed on a full ride football scholarship at the
University
of
Texas
to join the Navy at seventeen.  He served fifteen years on the SEAL teams before he was offered this gig.”  His eyes narrowed.  “That man bleeds red, white, and blue." 

Guinea
held his hands up in surrender.  “Okay, then.”  He turned to Sarah. 
“My bad.
  I was out of line.” 

Will
looked
around at Chris, Jason and Sarah.  "Matter of fact, you could cut any one of my people open and they’d bleed Old Glory for you.  You’ve never seen a greater group of patriots than the folks you’re sitting with this morning.”

Guinea
nodded, quite effectively put in his place by Will’s stern words.  “That works for me.”  He stood. 
“How about some breakfast?”

“Sounds good.”
  Will glanced at his watch and nodded.  “We could all use a good meal and some sleep after being up for the last twenty-four hours.”

Chapter Nineteen

The only sound at the table was the tapping of silverware to plates as everyone dug into the breakfast they’d whipped up together.  Scrambled eggs, Canadian bacon, sausage, biscuits, coffee and orange juice were served family
style on Vince's large dining room table.  In the military tradition, Will laid out a place setting at the head of the table for their missing comrade.  It set a somber mood for the team as they prepared to go to war.

Guinea
broke the silence.  “Hey, I finally thought of a name and a background for the new me.”

Brian turned to look at
Guinea
. 
“Really?
  What is it?”

“Anthony Gilbert, former Air Force Security Forces.”

Will chuckled.  “Okay, man.  Tell us what it means.”

“My dad was Italian American so I chose Anthony, and my mother’s family was Canuk so I chose Gilbert for her.  I chose Air Force Security Forces because I now have a new respect for those troops we all used to think were just mindless grunts.” 

He nodded toward Sarah.  “You carry yourself like a professional.  It says a lot that you aren’t a hysterical mess while we have to wait to get this operation together.”

Sarah gave him a half-smile.  “Thanks,
Guinea
.”

Brian shot Sarah a wink, and she smiled in thanks for his pep talk at the Burj Al Arab.  She wanted to appear the professional
Guinea
saw, not a sulking mess in sweatpants as Brian had so bluntly put it.

Jason set his fork down and took a drink of his coffee.  “So what are your plans for this new identity, Tony?  May I call you Tony?”