Covert Commando: A Sam Harper Military Thriller

by Thomas Sewell

  "And my true mission? Am I to spy on them?"

  "Nothing so awkward. Talk to them. Find out who the ranking officer for those soldiers is. Convince him we are aware of what they've been up to. Maybe he'll offer an explanation. Perhaps you can keep this from blowing up in our faces. Explain you're just there to prop up our rickety alliance."

  "Do you think they'll believe me?" Larrikowal bit down on his lip.

  "The truth shouldn't be difficult. It doesn't suit my purposes any more than theirs for our government to continue to fall into China's orbit. Make them see reason. Their operation, whatever it was, is blown. Too risky to continue."

  "Very well. I'll report on our discussions from the ship." He turned to leave.

  "And Larrikowal…"

  He paused.

  "Get my approval before making any deals, hmm?"

  He nodded. "Of course."

  He'd do what he could to put Humpty-Dumpty back together again.

  * * *

  I lay half-propped up. Attempted to protect the tiny pools of acid from discovery.

  Omar loomed above me. Whipped down a wooden rod on the tendons in my upper right arm. Ouch. That one stung even more than the last dozen.

  Pahk huddled by the door, turning green. I'd been shocked to watch him walk in behind Omar. The last time I'd seen him was in Seoul, when we sent him back across the DMZ.

  What was he doing here? Fronting for the Chinese, or did Pyongyang take a new geopolitical interest in the region?

  Omar smacked my left arm. "What's your unit?"

  "Just a tourist. Got lost while hiking. Exploring."

  "We already know all the details, but you must confirm them for us."

  He jabbed me in the belly. Fortunately, my core is an area which decades of surfing develops. I instinctively tightened it.

  The stick bent, but didn't break.

  Was like he'd stabbed me with a knife.

  "Your unit!" He gestured toward Pahk with his rod, as if it was a campaign stick. "You recognize my companion, here. He recognizes you. It's no use denying it."

  "Of course." I gasped. "Good to see you again, Lieutenant Pahk Geon."

  Pahk nodded. "It's captain now."

  "Congratulations." I groaned.

  Omar tapped me softly on the left leg, as if measuring his next stroke. "You see. Not so difficult. Now, your unit?"

  After forty-five minutes of piling on the bruises, I figured I'd had enough to be believable. Besides, no chance Pahk didn't remember who I was with.

  "75th Regimental Special Troops Battalion. Military Intelligence Company, third platoon. On loan to the Ranger Reconnaissance Company."

  Actually, second platoon, but who's counting?

  Omar looked at Pahk. He nodded. I got away with the little lie.

  "Very good. You're learning. Now, where is your base? Remember, we already know, so why go through more pain?"

  I doubted that. Time to implement the strategy I'd long ago determined to use if ever captured and tortured.

  Lie as much as possible in not easily checkable ways until even if they eventually force you to tell the truth, they won't know what to believe.

  "Manila. We setup in Manila."

  "Good. Where in Manila?"

  "I don't remember. You know they don't really use street addresses there? Not like where I'm from. Our driver always just knew where to go."

  He whacked my left leg on the kneecap.

  Damn. That hurt. Same knee I injured in Korea. I couldn't stop a wince.

  "Where precisely?"

  I sighed. Had to maintain enough strength to escape later and kick this dude's ass back to Mecca. "Fine! F7 warehouse on Tobias and Gandia streets, but when I didn't return, they may have left. Gone elsewhere."

  In truth, we staged some equipment there when we setup the counter-sniper teams, but other than some packaging and trash, nothing remained except a slightly richer landlord.

  "Your mission in Manila?"

  Half-truths are the easiest. "To protect the government leaders. A secret agreement with the President. He didn't want anyone to know he was relying on American rangers instead of his own Department of National Defense, but he doesn't trust the Secretary to protect his people. They're enemies."

  "Liar!" Omar slammed the rod down on my right thigh, missing the kneecap in his excitement, but giving me the worst charley horse ever.

  What had I screwed up? Had to think through the pain. Concentrate quickly. "Okay, okay. Enough. I give up."

  Of course! If Omar was working with the President…

  "Your true mission?"

  "We had intelligence someone would shoot the Speaker, so we were to stop it. Prevent it. That part is true. It wasn't with the President, though. He didn't know. Just the SAF. A joint-mission."

  Plausible, but not too incriminating for anyone, as long as he thought the locals had invited us.

  Omar straightened up. "I have sources in the police who can confirm for me your words. If you lie, this will feel like a thousand soft pillows in your dreams."

  He nodded to Pahk. "Let's go. I'll send Raven to clean him up for the next round. Mustn't wear out our guest too soon."

  Well, that didn't sound pleasant. I needed to get out of here!

  Chapter Sixteen: Captive Meetups

  Michelle slumped head down on the metal wardroom table. Her laptop connected to the ship's systems, she'd been using it as a make-shift office, ignoring the trickle of naval officers who passed through to get some coffee, or more likely, a look at the agency chick.

  Right now, her eyes preferred temporary closure. She'd been up all night with Schnier, the exec, and their staff planning tonight's rescue attempt.

  Supposedly it was daylight outside, so she should go to her assigned rack and get some sleep. Get rest for tonight's mission.

  But her body insisted she not move. The slight rocking of the ship begged to differ, but ultimately would put her to sleep right here.

  Someone fumbled their way through the hatchway.

  Michelle opened her eyes and groaned. Was she imagining things, or was her latest wardroom visitor dressed in an SAF uniform and carrying a black briefcase?

  She rubbed her eyes with her fists.

  Schnier came in behind the interloper, wearing a rumpled uniform, like he'd been sleeping in it. He stretched his arms wide, until they bumped the low ceiling.

  "Michelle, this is our new liaison from the SAF, Captain Larrikowal."

  "Liaison?"

  "He brought over some goodies for the crew and happened to mention to the Captain that he'd love to speak with the Special Operations troops he had on board and compare notes."

  Schnier held his finger vertically to his lips behind Larrikowal's back.

  "Ahh… welcome aboard, then. Make yourself comfortable. I'm a diplomat with the embassy, just here as a liaison myself."

  She yawned. Had to stop doing that.

  Larrikowal stepped over to her and extended his hand. "Most excellent to meet you. So you are the agency representative in charge of this covert mission?"

  Michelle shook his hand and then her head. "What gives you that idea?"

  "Cards on the table, as they say. You should know that I'm here because we tracked your movement from the resort compound you left in flames to this ship via helicopter and small watercraft."

  This was the last thing she needed. More interference in her work, this time from the locals.

  "As a diplomat, I must say that the Ambassador and the State Department would never approve of activities of the nature you describe. That sort of covert operations might cause a diplomatic incident."

  "It's okay, I won't tell if you won't. At least… as long as we can come to a mutually beneficial agreement. My Secretary of Defense is keeping this matter close to his chest. I'm here to negotiate on his behalf, but neither of us wishes to alienate your country."

  Schnier leaned forward. "Makes sense. We're the biggest kid on the block, after all. Better to k
eep us on your side."

  Michelle gave him a look which she hoped he successfully translated into "shut-up already!"

  Larrikowal grinned. "China would disagree, at least in this particular neighborhood, but as it happens, we're on your side. Unlike the President and the Speaker of the house. You may have noticed our impending election?"

  Michelle nodded. "Of course." No harm in admitting that she kept up on local politics.

  "We're especially curious why an American counter-sniper team would be in Manila to protect the Speaker, who has made no secret of the fact that he favors China in these types of matters."

  She shrugged. "No idea. You'd have to ask whoever it was."

  After all, he couldn't prove a thing.

  He set his briefcase on the wardroom table. Dialed in a combination. Clicked open the locks. Folded it back. Removed a manila envelope. Slid out an 8x5 photo. Handed it to Schnier.

  "An excellent likeness, don't you think? The entire area is covered by cameras, there are plenty more, including images tracking you and your other teams to and from the coastal resort in vans."

  Schnier's ears actually turned red as he stared at the photo.

  Idiots, they hadn't accounted for the cameras in all their gallivanting around town?

  She'd have to recover the situation somehow. "So theoretically speaking, let's say intelligence came to the attention of a U.S. military unit about a terrorist attack and they were in a position to help prevent it. It's possible they might in an emergency take some sort of action outside the normally accepted diplomatic channels."

  Larrikowal grinned. "Of course, this is all theoretical." He took the photo back from Schnier and tucked it into the envelope. "But in that situation, local law enforcement would likely have appreciated advance notice of such a situation."

  "As a diplomat, I have to say that inter-governmental contacts like that can be delicate and slow. For example, my State Department would normally insist such information would need to go through your Department of Foreign Affairs. Would probably need to include the source of the information, which could compromise all sorts of confidential methods and personnel. You see the problem."

  He nodded. "Yes, I believe I do. Not to say you would be forgiven, but it may be in everyone's best interests in such a situation to come to an agreement which saves embarrassment all around. I mean, who is to say you weren't working covertly with the SAF the whole time? That is, if you had a liaison you were sharing information with…"

  This guy was too smart for his own good. She'd need to roll the dice on his honesty, because otherwise she'd blown her mission and her career along with it.

  Not to mention they'd never get Sam out with the SAF sitting on top of them if they weren't in a cooperative mood.

  "You'd better have a seat. As it turns out, my recollection is that you've been our official SAF joint-exercise liaison on this matter for more than a week now. Does that match what you remember?"

  Larrikowal's grin grew broader. He pushed his briefcase to the side and sat at the table. "I believe that may match my recollection. Perhaps you can refresh my mind on what we've been doing together?"

  Schnier stepped forward. "Now wait a…" He broke off when Michelle held up a hand.

  "Captain Schnier, this sounds like a diplomatic problem, don't you think? You're welcome to join us, of course, but I can handle this matter."

  She yawned. Assuming she could stay awake long enough.

  He nodded. "I'll get us all some coffee. I'm going to need it, even if it is that liquid tar the navy serves." He started across the wardroom towards the coffee maker.

  Smart man.

  Larrikowal leaned forward across the table. "I believe this may be the beginning of a beautiful friendship."

  Michelle smiled, careful to ensure her eyes crinkled to make it believable. She reached out her arm. Placed a hand on his forearm across the table.

  Not so smart as he liked to think, if he didn't understand that she'd toss him to the wolves if it saved either Sam or her career.

  Hopefully both.

  "We might have a problem with a shared opponent, but we may also have a collection of intelligence regarding other mutual foes which would interest you. I think we can come to a beneficial arrangement which your Secretary of Defense will approve."

  * * *

  Pahk leaned against a granite boulder next to a hard-packed dirt trail. A waterfall hid the nearby cave entrance. It bounced its way off rocks and into the pool below.

  Enough noise to hide his conversation from any of Omar's men who watched.

  He spoke into his radio. Just enough range to reach the Chinese covert torpedo boat hiding in a cove along the north shore.

  "I need to arrange a future pick up."

  "When?"

  "That depends. Relay to the Admiral that one of the targets identified by Comment Crew is being held by my host. Find out if he wants me to negotiate an acquisition or have him terminated. We're currently working to confirm intelligence he's provided, otherwise he's unlikely to last much longer here."

  "Roger. Will relay and get back to you with instructions."

  "I'll check back in two hours. If it fits with the answer, coordinate the rest, including any proposed payment, from your end and provide a rendezvous time tonight at our most recent drop off point. I'll have more information about the Imperialists at that time."

  There, that demonstrated his continued value to Admiral Hu.

  * * *

  "1… 2… 3…" Raven yanked on a chain together with Sam. She grunted with the effort.

  It didn't budge.

  "Enough." He looked up at her from the floor. "The acid isn't eating through the bolt nor concrete fast enough to make a difference."

  She dropped the chain. "Sorry I couldn't get the sword. Omar was showing it to Pahk. The stars just didn't line up."

  "Hey, I'm stoked about what you're already willing to do." He rubbed one of his bruises on the arm they'd been working to free. "No need to get caught in a sketchy situation."

  "You know, when Schnier told me he was joining the Army, I tried to talk him out of it. Asked him why he would go join a bunch of baby killers. Thought he was dumb for not knowing any history. Broke up with him over it."

  "We all make mistakes. I didn't like Schnier either, when I first met him. Total Barney. The dude grows on you, though."

  "Now I'm doing manual labor for the Army." She laughed. Flexed her arm. "Fetching, hauling, and pulling."

  "You're doing awesome. No way I have the leverage to get free of these chains myself. Not laying on the floor."

  "Is he married? Seeing someone? Single? I can't picture him settled down with someone else."

  "Schnier? He's… it's complicated."

  "So he is." Her heart sank into her flat tone of voice.

  He rushed out an explanation. "Been dating an old friend of mine, a co-worker, really, but not in the army, but they haven't been getting along totally fine lately. Doubt it'll last long."

  "Well, that was a long time ago, anyway." Technically, she was married, in the eyes of Allah, anyway.

  Compared to Omar, Schnier was a prince among men. Or at least, a cowboy of a man.

  "Of course, but you never know. I mean, he obviously cares about you. Even a relationship newb like me can figure that much out. He spent more of our time in Manila showing your photo around and asking if anyone has seen you than he did on our actual mission. That kind of dedication isn't just casual interest. Must think he owes you something, still."

  "Thanks. Shall we try a different chain?"

  Sam looked at each one in turn. Settled on the chain connected to his right ankle.

  "My strongest leg right now, and the chain looks just as not eaten away as the others. Last try before we bail."

  She took a two-handed grip on the ankle shackle. Bent her legs to get more power. "1… 2… 3…"

  They pulled together. She yanked up with all her might.

  Nothing.
/>   They stopped. She sighed. "No use."

  "All we can do is wait longer for the acid to do its work, then."

  Could she risk it? She'd already approached two of the other women. They'd been dubious. Doubted there was really a way to escape.

  The longer it took, the more doubts they'd have. The more likely Omar would be to hurt Sam in some new way.

  Even execute him on camera.

  If she were to have any hope at all, she'd have to.

  "Maybe there's still another way. Omar already showed Pahk the sword. He won't look for it again so soon. I'll go get it right now. Bring it back, along with the pot. What did you call them?"

  "Lever and fulcrum."

  "Right."

  He held up a chained arm. "I'll wait here for you."

  She laughed. As if he had any choice in the matter.

  She'd smiled more honestly today than she ever had the entire time since she'd met Omar. Maybe some of her old inner sunlight could return as well, if she let it.

  Chapter Seventeen: Captive Plans

  To Larrikowal, sitting in an American wardroom while a ranger captain and the CIA station chief horse-traded with him was more than surreal.

  He'd dealt with the Americans before, but there'd always been a feeling of superiority on their side. A reminder that his country only had their independence because the Americans decided to give it to them.

  An acknowledgment they were the world's number one military, and he belonged to maybe the top half of the middle.

  One U.S. aircraft carrier cost more to build than the entire defense budget of the Philippines for ten years.

  But for now, he had them backed into a corner. Caught with their hand in the cookie jar, as the saying went.

  But how to best take advantage of that?

  "The SAF will supply our own technical experts. Your intelligence team will show them how they intercepted our communications and infiltrated our networks. In return, we'll give you at least short-term access to any specific data you need for your mission."

  Michelle nodded. "We can accept that arrangement, but we'll want your cooperation for a live fire exercise on Lubang Island."