Freedom's Promise: Task Force 125 (12 page)

Chapter Twenty-Three

Sarah slung two spare barrels over her shoulder and hefted two M-60 machine guns through the tunnel following Jason, who carried a Mark-19 automatic grenade launcher and the helicopter mount. 

Sarah and Jason had become regular drinking buddies between missions when they were living in
Las Vegas
.  Jason liked to get into the posh clubs and having Sarah on his arm made it possible.  Sarah liked to go slumming every once in a while and just hang out at a dive bar shooting pool.  Having Jason with her always put her on the winning side in any brawls that broke out. 

Jason was also her sparring partner and
sensei
of sorts in her fighting training.  She was used to Jason being the muscle, especially when they got into bar brawls, but she was still impressed that he could throw a seventy-five pound gun over his shoulder and walk at a steady clip without leaning.  She was suddenly aware of how very physically, financially and intellectually powerful her friends were and considered
herself
lucky to be a part of their little family. 

At the end of the tunnel, they came to an elevator. 

"This stuff isn't cheap, Jase.  Where did Vince get the money for all this?"

Jason pushed the button for the elevator.  "Sarah, no self respecting arms dealer could hold his head up in the international underworld without a setup like this.  It’s all trappings of the trade."

"So the Agency paid for all this?"

"In a manner of speaking.
  The Agency doesn't like to sign off on stuff like this.  Generally, you need to set up your sales to go to two different accounts.  One account belongs to the Agency and the other to you."

They stepped on to the elevator.  "So it is standard operating procedure to skim?"

Jason pressed the elevator button. 
"In a word?
 
Hell, yeah."

The floor of the hangar above them opened up and they found themselves at the far back of the hangar.  Jason set the Mark-19 on the clean, polished floor near several, neatly stacked, black canvas bags.  "Just leave those here for now." 

Sarah stared at the guns and the bags of explosives and ammo.  Something clicked in her head and she stopped.  Dread swept over her like a cold breeze and she shivered.

Even these aren’t guarantees of Vince’s safety.

She croaked through the frog in her throat.  "Jason?"

Jason turned to face her. 
"Yeah?"

"Are we going to be able to do this?"

He grinned and his eyes wrinkled with laughter.  "Any monkey, even an Air Force cop like you, can mount an M-60 to a chopper, Sarah."

Sarah found no humor in the joke today.  Her shoulders sank, and she shook her head.  "That's not what I'm talking about."

The laughter left his hazel eyes.  His voice dropped a little deeper like it always did when he was serious, which wasn’t very often.  "I know, Sarah."  He grabbed her shoulders and looked her in the eyes.  "Never, ever allow room for doubt in your head, your heart, or your gut.  We've got the best equipment and people in the business right here on this little sandbar.  Always remember,
who dares, wins.
"

"Where have I heard that before?"

"Okay, so it wasn't original but it is appropriate.  It's the British SAS motto and it’s every bit the truth.  Have you ever heard of the SAS failing, at
anything
?"

Sarah gulped back the frog in her throat.  "No."

"Exactly."
  Jason shook her shoulders just enough to make his point but not enough to agitate her nearly healed gunshot wound.  "We're the heroes, Sarah.  Don't forget it.  We're going to save Vince, kill the bad guys and then we'll all live happily ever after."

Sarah wanted to cry and hated herself for it.  She trusted Jason and needed his reassurance now as much as she needed to breathe.  "How can you be so sure?"

Jason placed his hands on either side of Sarah's head and pulled her close until their foreheads touched and their eyes were just inches apart.  "Because the alternative is unacceptable and because we have this…"  He wrapped an arm around Sarah’s waist and led her over to the covered helicopter and pulled the tarp away from the nose with a flourish. 
“Ta-
da
!”

"Jesus, Jason!"  Sarah nearly squealed with excitement as she moved forward for a closer look.  "Is that…?"

Jason walked around the helicopter, carefully removing the rest of the huge tarp.  His muscled chest puffed up with pride, and his voice was clear and confident as he described what Sarah was looking at.  "That's right.  Sikorsky's finest. 
The MH-60L Direct Action Penetrator.
  Civilians just call it a Blackhawk helicopter but this bad boy has some special operations modifications.”  He walked around the helicopter and pointed them out.  “We've got Hellfire missiles with a maximum range of five miles."  He patted the barrel of a Gatling gun.  "We've also got two M134D Gatling guns mounted as door guns."

Sarah marveled at the fact that a civilian could acquire such a devastating piece of war machinery.  "This is amazing!"  She bounced up and down on her toes as a new optimism cleared the doubts from her mind for good.

Jason began spreading the huge tarp out on the floor of the hangar.  "I'm glad you're impressed.  You helped us get a discount on this one.  The day Vince dropped you off at Victor’s place he got a hundred thousand off the selling price.”

Sarah’s eyes opened wide.  “I was worth a hundred thousand?”

Jason eyed her with disbelief.  “You aren’t the fat girl any more, Sarah.  Women like you go for way more than that on the black market.  If you were
mine, I wouldn’t part with you for any less than a cool million and a hard fight.”

Her heart warmed.  Jason wasn’t normally a demonstrative guy, but the look in his eyes as he watched her told her he really meant that.  Other women would be offended, but when your job is sleeping with bad guys for secrets, you like knowing your rate is a good one.

Not one to be serious for long, Jason rolled his eyes.  “Now put your inflated ego away and help me fold this mother."

Sarah took a deep breath and set to work.  Time flew as they loaded ammunition and gear into the Blackhawk.  The physical work helped Sarah to feel productive, like they were getting closer to finding Vince.

Jason stretched.  "How about some chow?"

Sarah looked up from the ammunition she was loading into the chopper. 
"Who, me?
 
Always."
 

He smirked in his Cheshire cat way.  "We can't go into an operation with low blood sugar now, can we?"

They walked through the tunnel and back into the basement where Brian and
Guinea
were packing bags of war gear.  Tactical vests, bulletproof vests, belts, and holsters were counted and packed into big black canvas bags.

Will and Chris were in the office checking maps, coordinates, and schedules.

Jason poked his head into the armory.  "Who's cooking tonight?" 

Sarah knew full well he who asks gets the task and suspected it was a rhetorical question on his part.

Guinea
looked up.  "I put some cold cuts in the fridge this morning.  There are some sandwich buns on the kitchen counter."

"Cool, come on, Sarah.  Let's go make some sandwiches." 

Sarah followed Jason up the stairs.

"Stevens!"

Sarah stopped at the sound of Will's voice but didn’t turn around on the stairs. 
"Yeah?"

"Telephone."
 

Sarah hot footed down the stairs.
  Will handed Sarah the handset attached to the secure line in the office.  "It’s Buffy Davidson.  They want a face-to-face."

Sarah realized Mark Davidson would be under constant surveillance due to his position as a political attaché.  The only way they could do a face-to-face meeting was with Buffy.  It made sense for her to meet with a woman rather than raise suspicions by meeting with a man.  Sarah wondered why they had to do a face-to-face at all when they had a secure telephone line and Nikolai’s people were already on the lookout for Sarah.  "Hello?"

"Sarah,
it’s
Buffy.  We gave all the details to Will.  You and I are going to meet for a shopping trip."

"Thanks, Buffy, but the last thing I want to do is shop.  Can't you just give us the
intel
we need right now?  We aren't here on vacation."

Buffy's voice was terse.  "I realize that, Sarah." 

Sarah’s patience slipped away like sand through an hourglass.  "We can't expect Nikolai to just keep Vince as a houseguest.  Do you understand that lives are in the balance here?  What if it were Mark?  Wouldn't you want to handle it quickly?"

"Sarah, you misunderstand.  Of course, I would want to handle it quickly, but more importantly, I'd want to do it right.  Just meet me in
Dubai
."

Chapter Twenty-Four

Sarah observed Buffy from across the table.  She appeared so plain in the abaya without makeup or her lovely, long blond hair showing.  Sarah realized that was the point.  They were both in abayas and with all the glamorously clad women milling about, two women in traditional garb blended into the background just as well as two palm trees might. 

Buffy's eyes were intent as she spoke in hushed tones.  "Two women go in and out of Nikolai's compound daily.  One is the cook and the other is the
maid.  They always travel together.  They live in the nearby village.  Their family name is Al Han'ah."

Sarah didn’t waste time asking where the information came from.  Buffy wouldn’t risk the meeting if the
Davidsons
didn’t believe their source was good. 

Brian walked up wearing the white robes Will had bought and sat to read a newspaper at the table next to them.  He nodded at Sarah before opening his paper.

His meeting with the newly arrived mercenaries called in to assist in their rescue of Vince must have gone well.  He smiled as he read an Arabic newspaper and watched Sarah from the corner of his eye.

Buffy slid an eight by ten photo across the table to Sarah.  "As you can see from the satellite image, Nikolai’s compound is surrounded by wide open desert.  There is a small village to the northeast, about two clicks away.”

Buffy may have traded in her battle dress uniform for designer labels, but she still talked like a military cop. 

“Every morning, mother and daughter Al Han'ah," she pointed to the back gate, "enter through this gate and go inside to do the cooking and cleaning for the day.  They leave every evening just after sundown.”  She leaned forward and lowered her voice even more.  “Now this is your operation and I haven't been tactical since my military police days, but I see some definite possibilities here."

Sarah knew exactly what she meant and nodded.  If they could get the women to cooperate, Sarah could go in as one of them to recon the compound and make sure Vince was still there. 

Buffy passed Sarah a manila envelope.  "Here is the dossier we have on the Al
Han'ahs
."

Chapter Twenty-Five

Sarah lounged on the long semicircular couch facing the fireplace and watched Chris as he worked.  Vince had been missing five days now.  They’d come a long way toward getting him back, but they still had much more to do. 

Chris sat cross-legged on the floor and made more notes on the satellite photo mosaic of Nikolai's compound, the surrounding area, and the nearby village.  He'd made notes of all the GPS coordinates of every structure, door, and well.  He'd even noted the current moon phase, which was due to be new in two days.  A dark moon would be the perfect opportunity for a night attack.

Sarah and Jason waited quietly as Will wrote on his notepad, Chris made notes on the makeshift map, and Brian made phone calls downstairs.

Guinea
walked in with a fresh carafe of coffee and set it down on the only uncluttered spot on the coffee table.  "Damn, Chris, you may suck at history but you are totally obsessive when it comes to all that science and math stuff.  I'm impressed."

"Thanks,
Guinea
.  Good to know I have one or two redeeming qualities."

Will copied the coordinates onto his notepad from the photo Buffy had given Sarah and then passed them to Chris so he could compare them to the ones they'd taken. 

Sarah wasn’t used to sitting still, and she hadn’t caught up on all her lost sleep.  She nodded off but jolted from her doze when she heard Brian bounding up the stairs in what must have been three at a time.  He appeared at the basement door after only three stomps.

He was smiling wide.  "We're all set!"

"Send it, brother!"  Will had a hopeful look on his face.  "Whatcha got?"

Brian sat on the couch and grinned.  "Jason's source was right on.  Nikolai hasn't made any friends out there.  The ladies are distant cousins,
very distant
, but I used to play soccer with the old lady's son.  It seems Nikolai's man hasn't been treating the ladies so well, and Hamza would be happy to find any excuse to have Nikolai either run through or run out of town."  Brian looked at Sarah.  "I'm not suggesting this as a plan of action, but if we wanted to have one of the women take a day or two off, they wouldn't be averse to it. 
Just
sayin
'."