Rescue

by Earl Staggs

Tall continued down the corridor and entered the conference room. Ben and Mountain were standing along the wall chatting. The three other operatives who’d been with them in the desert, two male and one female, were sitting at the table. A Captain Tall didn’t recognize stood at the head of the table.

  The Captain smiled and extended a hand as Tall approached. “Lane Peters, Mr. Chambers.” He held out a manila envelope. “These papers were just faxed in to you. They’re prepping a chopper for you and your team. It’ll be ready in thirty minutes. I’ll be down the hall in case you need anything else.”

  Tall thanked him and spoke to the three operatives sitting at the table. He said he appreciated their coming to help that morning and told them they could return to Afghanistan to finish their assignment there. The Captain left the room with them as Ellie entered. She, Mountain and Ben took seats at the table. Tall sat at the head of the table, opened the envelope and took a few minutes to go through the papers inside.

  When he finished reviewing the papers Armbruster had sent, he held them in his hand and stood up.

  “Good work this morning, guys. I had plans for all of us to take a few days off, but that’s not going to happen. The President has a new job for us, and we’ll take off as soon as the chopper is ready.”

  Tall turned to a bulletin board behind him, picked up a stickpin from a tray at the bottom, and pinned the top sheet of paper on the board. “This is Hasam Rashid. Ben, you were with me three weeks ago when we raided his stronghold in Iran and took him prisoner.”

  Tall pointed at the man in the picture. Thick black hair, mustache and beard, framed the square face of a man in his mid to late thirties with high cheekbones and dark, shadowed eyes. “Seven days ago,” Tall continued, “Rashid announced he wanted to defect. He offered valuable intel on Al Queda and the Taliban in return for immunity and asylum in the US. Our government decided it would be a worthwhile trade. Rashid and three of his associates were set up in a safe house not far from here for interrogation and debriefing under the watchful eyes of six armed guards.”

  Tall pinned pictures of the other three Muslims on the board.

  “Yesterday morning, everything changed. Somehow, Rashid and his crew came up with weapons. They killed three of our security guards at the safe house and kept the other three as hostages. They’re demanding we release nine Muslim prisoners we’re holding at Guantanamo and everybody gets a free ride back to Iran.”

  Tall turned to face those in the room. “And,” he said, “they want a hundred million dollars to compensate them for their inconvenience.”

  Mountain Brown said, “I’d like to compensate the sonsabitches. Why in the goddamned hell did anybody trust them?”

  “Good question,” Tall said.

  “What I’d like to know,” Ben said, “is how they managed to get weapons.”

  “Another good question. According to what I’ve been told, the safe house was swept clean before they went in, so the guns were smuggled in to them. Tall turned back to the board and pinned up another picture. “This is Penelope Foster. Her father is career Air Force, she grew up in Iran, and she’s fluent in the language and customs. She was part of the task force that negotiated their defection and volunteered to handle the interrogation. Now she’s also being held hostage.”

  While those in the room studied the picture of petite and pretty, dark-haired, thirty-five-year-old Penelope Foster, Tall pinned up another picture.

  “This is an aerial view of the safe house where they’re being held. It’s a one-story stone house in a rural area north of Dubai. It sits in the middle of a cleared area, so there’s no way to get close without being seen. They said if they spot anyone trying to get to them, they’ll kill the hostages. A Command Center has been set up a mile away.”

  “What do they expect us to do?” Mountain asked.

  “Simple,” Tall said. “Take Rashid and his crew down and get the hostages out safely.”

  Mountain snorted. “What are our chances of pulling it off?”

  “Offhand, I’d say somewhere between slim and none, but we have to try. You know our government’s policy. We don’t negotiate in situations like this. If we did, we’d have six more groups pulling the same stunt within a week.”

  “That’s bullshit,” Mountain said. “We’ve done it before.”

  “Maybe so, Mount, and maybe if there were a hundred hostages, they’d consider it. This time, there’s only four. They’re taking a hard line and it’s up to us.”

  Mountain muttered something under his breath. Ben continued staring at the picture of the house.

  “How can we do anything,” Ellie asked, “if we can’t get near the house?”

  Ben said, “Maybe we could lob smoke bombs into the house and drive them outside.”

  “Too risky,” Tall said. “They’d kill the hostages as soon as they saw the smoke. They’ve already killed three of our people. Four more won’t mean anything to them.”

  Ben said, “We can’t rush the house, even in the dark. If they spotted us, it’d be all over for the hostages.” Ben slumped back in his chair. “Holy shit.”

  Ellie leaned forward and stacked her hands on the table. “Any ideas how we might be able to do it?”

  Tall returned to the table and plopped in a chair. “We can’t get to them as long as they’re inside the house. Our only chance is to get them to come out in the open. Then. . .” He hesitated and looked at the three of them in turn. “Then, there’s four of us and four of them. We take them all out with one shot.”

  Mountain sucked in a breath of air and blew it out, making a whistling sound. “Wow. Talk about risky.”

  After several seconds of silence, Ellie asked, “How do we get them to come outside?”

  “We tell them they won,” Tall replied. “We tell them they’re going to get everything they want. We bring in the helicopter they asked for and when they come out to get in it, we each get one shot.”

  Ben said, “And if we miss?”

  Tall said, “We can’t afford to miss. If any of us misses our shot, we could lose a hostage.”

  Ellie asked, “How much time do we have?”

  “Till nine o’clock tomorrow morning. If they don’t get what they want by then, they’ll kill the hostages.”

  They talked a few more minutes before Tall told the others to get their gear together and he’d meet them on the chopper that would take them to the Command Center. Then he called Tom Armbruster.

  When Armbruster answered, Tall said, “We’re heading out to the Command Center house in a few minutes.”

  “Good. Is there anything you need from me?”

  “Yes. I need you to get word to Rashid.”

  “What word?”

  “Tell him we agree with all his demands. Tell him the prisoners at Guantanamo are being released and will be sent home.”

  “Are you serious? We can’t do that.”

  “Tell him that anyway.”

  “You mean lie?”

  “That’s right. You’re a politician in Washington, DC. That shouldn’t be a problem. No offense.”

  Armbruster paused for a second. “None taken. It’s the truth. Anything else?”

  “Yes. Tell him a helicopter will land at the safe house at eight o’clock tomorrow morning to take them to the airport. If he releases the hostages unharmed, a plane will be waiting to take him and his crew to Iran.”

  “What about the money he asked for?”

  “Tell him it’ll be aboard the helicopter. He can count it on the way to the airport. And -- this is very important -- we need the Air Force to land the chopper in the southwest corner of the front yard, but as close to the road as it can get.”

  “What exactly are you going to do?”

  “What the President asked us to do. Take out the terrorists and rescue the hostages. There’s something else we’ll need,” Tall added. “Four M24’s. Can you arrange that?”

  “Shouldn’t be a problem. They’ll be waiting for you at the
Command Center. I hope you know what you’re doing.”

  “So do I, Tom, so do I.”

  “Good luck.”

  “Thanks.”

  When that call ended, Tall punched in a speed dial number to his office in Washington. It was nearly five PM in Dubai, which made it nine AM back home. His secretary, Pauline, answered and put him through to Edwin Anders, the Intel Center manager who referred to himself as Top Geek. Edwin was only thirty but an IT genius who could do things with computer technology most people didn’t even dream about.

  After he’d given Edwin a brief update on what he was doing, Tall said, “I’m faxing you a list of names. They’re the hostages in the safe house. Get me anything you can on them. If one of them has even a hint of a connection to Rashid, he may be the one who smuggled the guns into the house. That could change the odds.”

  “I’ll get on it right away, Tall. And you guys be careful out there.”

  Tall gathered the papers Armbruster had sent and started to leave the room when Kevin Mason walked in.

  “Mr. Chambers, do you have a minute?”

  Tall detected nervousness in the young man’s voice. “I have a few minutes. What’s on your mind?” He sat in a chair at the table and motioned for Kevin to take one across from him.

  Kevin sat down and cleared his throat. He clasped his hands together in front of himself and cleared his throat again. “Mr. Chambers,” he began, “my tour is over in three weeks, and I’ve been thinking about whether I should re-up or not. It’s a big decision, and I’ve been thinking a lot about what I want to do.”

  Tall glanced at the clock on the wall behind Kevin. He didn’t have time to be a guidance counselor. The chopper would be ready in a few minutes.

  “Kevin, I saw your papers. Your father is Mike Mason. He served two tours in the Army and earned every medal there is for distinguished service. I heard him speak at West Point a few years ago. I understand he’s a successful real estate developer now and owns about half of Richmond. I’m sure there’s a nice office waiting for you when you get home.”

  Kevin nodded and studied his hands. “Yes, sir. It’s all waiting for me back there. A big office, a title, a secretary, a huge salary, a limo. I can go back to Richmond and live the American dream.”

  “I’m sure you’ll do very well.”

  A wavering smile crossed Kevin’s lips and quickly disappeared. “Mr. Chambers, I’m the son of a famous war hero and millionaire businessman, and to tell you the truth, I can’t think of anything more useless. I could go home and build a hundred shopping malls and office buildings. And you know what? It wouldn’t mean jack. Just more piles of concrete and steel in the world.”

  Tall stole another glance at the clock. “I hear what you’re saying, but the world needs malls and offices. Somebody has to build them.”

  Kevin shrugged. “I guess so, but I grew up around all that. I always thought there had to be something more out there for me. Before today, I didn’t know about you and your group. Then, out there in the desert, I saw it with my own eyes. What you do, Mr. Chambers, is important. It matters. It makes a difference. If there’s any chance, I’d like to be part of that.”

  Tall thought back to the desert and the shot Kevin had but didn’t take. He didn’t want to be unkind, but he had to be honest. “Kevin, the people I work with are trained and seasoned combat veterans. When we go out on an op, we have to know we can depend on each other. Our lives depend on everyone doing their part.”

  Kevin lowered his head. He wiped a hand across his mouth and cleared his throat once more. “I know I screwed up this morning. I know I should have shot that man and I feel terrible about it. If I could get another chance, I . . . I swear I wouldn’t let you down.”

  “Shooting another human being is not easy, Kevin, and it shouldn’t be, no matter who it is. I don’t enjoy it and neither does anyone else in the agency. We have a motto. Kill one terrorist, save a hundred lives. We think about the number of lives saved, not those taken. It’s the only way we can keep going. Even so, it’s not for everyone. My advice is to go home and build the best shopping malls you can.”

  Kevin lowered his head again. He stood up and the quick smile appeared and slid away just as quickly. “I understand, Mr. Chambers.” He reached a hand across the table. “Thank you for your time. I won’t keep you any longer.” He walked toward the door, his shoulders slumped, his head down.

  As Tall watched the dejected Airman walk away, he thought about second chances. And a day more than twenty years ago. He was twenty-two and on his first mission with Special Forces. He and another man were in a ditch when a sniper fired on them. Tall raised his rifle, but he hesitated for a second. The sniper fired again and the man beside him took a bullet in the leg. Tall then took the shot and ended the threat. Luckily, his friend’s wound was not serious, but Tall never hesitated again. He also thought about why he’d joined the agency after he left the Army. He wanted to do something that mattered. Something that made a difference.

  “Kevin,” he said.

  When the Airman stopped and turned back to face him, Tall said, “How well do you know the M24 sniper rifle?”

  “Backwards and forwards, sir.”

  “Good. The rest of us could use a refresher, and we may need an interpreter again. I want you to go with us. I’ll clear it with your CO. We lift off in ten minutes. Okay with you?”

  Kevin’s shoulders squared and he flashed a wide smile that made him look more like fifteen than twenty-five. “Yes sir!”

  After Kevin disappeared into the corridor, Tall closed his eyes and shook his head.

  Why the hell did I do that?

  Then he called Armbruster again and told him to make it five M24’s.

  Don’t let me down, kid.

  CHAPTER THREE