Hunting Ghosts

by Brent Towns

  “Good to go.”

  “Then let’s get out of here.”

  Chapter 15

  Somewhere in South Sudan

  The knife bit deep into Knocker’s left thigh, and he cried out as pain shot through his every nerve ending. Khazbika wore a tank top and cargo pants. Gone was the indignity Knocker had felt the first time he’d pissed his pants when she’d given him the electric shock treatment. The large set of jumper cables she’d attached to him before doing it had hurt almost as much as the electricity. But that had been four days ago. She’d left him alone to get his strength back before another round.

  “Fucking bitch,” he cursed, teeth clamped together as he tried to manage the pain.

  “You are very strong, Englishman,” Khazbika said to him. It was as though she admired his strength.

  “How about you bring that pretty neck of yours over here and untie me, and I’ll show just how strong I am.”

  She smiled at him. “In another world, I’m sure we would have made a good team.”

  “Maybe,” Knocker said and tensed as she walked behind him.

  He felt the knife pierce the skin just under his shoulder blade. He let out a moan as the pain began radiating outward. Khazbika lowered her mouth next to his ear. “They say that there is very little difference, a fine line, in fact, between pain and pleasure. How does that feel?”

  Knocker jerked his head to the side and felt the hard contact of the blow. His torturer reeled back, the knife tip coming free of his skin. Khazbika walked around and stood before him, wiping the blood off her lip. The former SAS man smiled in satisfaction. “You’re right. That was quite pleasurable.”

  “I like you,” she said, her eyes glittering.

  “Enough to let me loose?”

  The knife plunged into his leg. “No.”

  Knocker screamed.

  Worldwide Drug Initiative, El Paso, Texas

  “You need to keep your head down, Mary,” General Hank Jones growled from the other end of the phone. “The President isn’t happy about what happened in Brazil. He has asked the Department of Justice to look into it and put forth their recommendations on whatever action they deem necessary to be taken.”

  “We did what we had to do, sir. Our job is twofold at present. You might point out that we found out Ellen Grayson is still alive, and we’re doing everything we can to track her down. Gustaw Marek has resurfaced too, and we’re trying to find him as well. Especially with the fifty-million-dollar price tag he’s put on our heads.”

  “I explained all that, but he’s getting grief from Brazil, and there are some things that are under threat if we…he is not seen to be doing something about it.”

  “This is bullshit, sir.”

  “I agree, Mary, but this is out of my hands.”

  “Worst case scenario, sir?”

  “They could shut you down.”

  Thurston was taken aback. “After all we’ve done, sir?”

  “It doesn’t count for much at this time, Mary. Just keep your head down, and we’ll see what happens.”

  “Yes, sir. Just a heads up. We may need operational clearance within the next few days.”

  “Where to?”

  “I’m not sure. We’re trying to nail Marek down.”

  “Any news on your missing man?”

  “No, sir. We gave the admiral all we had on that, but we are still running our own search in the background.”

  “All right, Mary. Keep me updated.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  The call disconnected and Thurston got up from her desk, rubbing her eyes to relieve the headache that was building. She left her small office and went in search of Ferrero to pass on the good news. She found him in his office, looking through after-action reports. He glanced up and saw the concern on her face. “A penny for them, Mary. You don’t look very happy.”

  “I just got off the phone with Hank Jones. He says the President has the Justice Department investigating the incident in Brazil.”

  Ferrero placed the piece of paper he’d been reading on the wooden desk. “That sounds like it could be a problem.”

  “There’s talk that we could be shut down.”

  He stared at her, not knowing what to say.

  Thurston continued, “Maybe if I resign, it might make a difference. They obviously need a head to roll, and the buck stops with me.”

  “No.” Ferrero’s voice was firm. “You belong here. That is, if you still want to be part of this?”

  “Of course, I do.”

  “Then stay the course, Mary. Ride this bitch all the way down if that’s what it takes, but don’t give up.”

  “I’ll take it under advisement.”

  There was a knock on the door, and Swift appeared. “If I’m not interrupting, I have news on both fronts.”

  Thurston said, “Get everyone back here. To save you repeating yourself, you can tell us all together.”

  “We have news on two fronts,” Thurston told her people once they had all settled in the ops room. “I’ll let Slick fill you in.”

  “First point is about Knocker. I can put Grayson and her team in Mosul at the same time. I did a little more digging and came up with this.”

  The large screen changed, and an ISR feed appeared. They all watched as it showed Knocker being taken and placed into a vehicle before it disappeared. Thurston stared at the tech and asked, “Who the fuck had this hidden away?”

  “The NSA.”

  “Jesus Christ,” she swore bitterly. “Get it to Admiral Joseph. I’m guessing he would like an extra-large shit sandwich to chew on. Fuck, those damned assholes. When they were asked, they said they had nothing.”

  “I’m guessing they know where Knocker is, ma’am, but they aren’t saying.”

  “We’ll see. Luis, take over.”

  “Tread lightly, Mary.”

  “Lightly be fucked. He’s one of ours.”

  She stormed off, doing her headache no favors. After a moment, Kane asked, “What’s going on, Luis?”

  “Paper-pusher stuff. Keep going, Slick.”

  “I’ve also managed to track down our friend Marek. It was easier since I knew what I was looking for, so I’ve been able to pick up bits here and there and—”

  “Where?” Ferrero interrupted, not wanting to wade through the details of the process he’d used.

  “Samokov, Macedonia.”

  “What do you know?” Kane asked.

  “He’s holed up outside the village. From what I’ve seen, he has a security team of around twelve. It looks as though he’s paying off the local police, too.” Swift brought up a satellite picture of the man’s compound, a large estate surrounded by trees and hills. Swift pointed out some features. “You’ll see that the estate is surrounded by trees, which will provide you with good cover on your approach. The bad part is, with the hills and trees, there isn’t a close LZ or DZ. That means you’ll have to go in on foot or—”

  “Or drop on target,” Cara interjected.

  “I vote for that,” Axe said.

  “Vote for what?” Arenas asked.

  “Drop on target. Hit them hard and fast.”

  The former Mexican Special Forces commander shook his head. “Amigo, sometimes I think you’re in too much of a hurry to die. Who is she this time?”

  “Why does there have to be a girl?” Axe asked indignantly.

  “Because there usually is,” Brick said, rolling his eyes.

  “Did you get her pregnant?” Teller asked.

  “God, I hope not,” Axe muttered. “Why? Do you know something?”

  “Me? No.”

  “All right,” Kane said. “Let’s focus. Axe can tell us about his baby later.”

  “Shit, don’t even go there, Reaper. That’s not even a little bit funny.”

  “You’re unbelievable,” Reynolds said, frustration in her voice. “You’ll charge into a shitstorm of bullets, but when there’s a problem with a woman, you run a mile.”

 
“You would too if you met her,” Brick told her. “She’s got a laugh like a donkey braying.”

  “Really?” Cara said. “You can’t be a little more respectful?”

  Kane grinned wryly. “It’s true. I thought it was one of those vuvuzelas when I first heard her.”

  “Seriously?”

  Kane winced. “Afraid so. I’m starting to think he and Brooke should have stayed together.”

  “Thanks a lot,” Reynolds said. “I got what I needed.”

  “And you all think I’m the bad one in the equation,” Axe moaned. “They just use me for my perfect body to fulfill their insatiable needs.”

  “Oh, please!” Cara face palmed.

  “It’s all right, honey,” Reynolds said sympathetically. “You’ve got a great body.”

  “Thanks.”

  “It’s a shame about the wiener,” she added with a grin.

  Axe opened his mouth to send a retort her way, but he was cut off. “You all done?” Ferrero asked.

  They went back to putting their game faces on. It was always the same way after returning from an op. It took them a few days to wind down from the high, but this looked like it would be a quick turnaround.

  Slick said, “All right, let me tell you what else I know.”

  Director of National Intelligence, Washington, DC

  “When the fuck were you going to tell me, Brett?” Thurston growled through the phone at the director of National Intelligence.

  “Mary?” fifty-year-old Brett Edison blurted, taken by surprise. “What’s going on?”

  “Your people knew what had happened all along, and no one said a fucking word.”

  “Whoa, slow down. Do you know who you’re talking to, or have you forgotten?”

  “I’m talking to a damned weasel, that’s who.”

  “Careful, Mary.”

  “Careful, bullshit. I had one of my men taken, and your people screwed us. Take your pants down and bend over. Well, we found out your dirty little secret, and I’m sure once the admiral finds out, he’ll be kicking down your damned door.”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “Don’t lie, Brett. We found the feed on your servers. It’s right—”

  “You what?” The director almost exploded through the phone.

  “Do I need to repeat myself?”

  “You hacked our servers?”

  “Not the damned point. The point is you knew my man was taken by Ellen Grayson. How long have you known she was still alive?”

  “Need to know, Mary.”

  “How fucking long, Brett? And more to the point, where the hell did she take him? If you were tracking her, then you know where she took him.”

  “Mary—”

  “Where?”

  He sighed. “Khartoum.”

  “Fuck!”

  “You have to understand, Mary. Your guy wasn’t the objective. The President told us to focus on the bigger prize.”

  “So he just left Knocker out there to rot on the end of the vine. Then who is the target?”

  “I can’t say.”

  “Can’t or won’t?”

  Edison said nothing.

  “Shit. Don’t worry, Brett, I’ll find out for myself.”

  “Leave it, Mary. This is way above your pay grade.”

  “Screw you, Brett.”

  The call disconnected, and Edison stared at the handset before he pressed another button. This had to be stopped before everything they’d been working toward was screwed up.

  Thirty minutes later, the door to Edison’s office burst open, and not one but two intimidating men strode in. He stared at them and gave them a mirthless smile. “I was expecting you.”

  “And so you fucking should be,” Alex Joseph growled.

  Hank Jones walked over to the desk, and for a moment, Edison thought the big man would throw it aside. “When were you going to say something, Brett? Tell me.”

  “There are only a few people who know, and the President wants it kept that way. My advice to you, General, is to keep that pit-bull of yours in check.”

  “Stick your head up your ass and smell what you’ve been spewing, Brett. We could have had our guy back by now and wrapped up Ellen Grayson as well.”

  “That’s the way the President wanted it,” Edison said, wielding the commander-in-chief as though he were a weapon.

  “Just what is it you’re doing?” Jones asked.

  “Need to know.”

  “Don’t give me that horseshit, Edison. My security clearance is top-level. The same goes for Alex. So, what are you doing?”

  “We’re looking into The Ghost.”

  “Son of a bitch,” Joseph growled. “I ought to come over that desk of yours and bust you in the mouth. We’ve been running parallel operations, and you kept this quiet. You trying to get a gold star, you selfish son of a bitch?”

  Jones stared at him. “You know what, Edison? I’m going to guess the President doesn’t even know about this damned operation you’re running.”

  “He does know, and he wants the CIA to keep out of it.”

  “You jumped-up little punk,” Joseph snarled. He took a step forward.

  Jones stepped in front of him. “Don’t kill him yet, Joe. I still have questions.”

  “Make it quick.”

  “Where is he, Brett?”

  “Who?”

  Jones kept his cool. “The Ghost?”

  “We think he’s in South Sudan.”

  “Think?”

  “We’re not sure.”

  “Do you know who he is?”

  “As far as we know, a former SBS lieutenant named Dan Best.”

  “How long have you known?”

  “A month.”

  Joseph took another threatening step. “Motherf—”

  “Easy, Joe.”

  “Do you have a team there?”

  “Only in Khartoum.”

  Jones could tell he was lying. “Where, Brett? If I send my people into South Sudan, I don’t want them getting shot at by your people.”

  “You can’t send your people in there, Hank. The President won’t allow it.”

  “No one left behind, Brett.” Jones turned and started for the door. “Come on, Joe, before I kill him myself.”

  Chapter 16

  Biggs Army Airfield, El Paso, Texas

  “Once this mission is complete, you’re to return home, Mary,” Hank Jones stipulated. “Presidential orders.”

  “You know I can’t do that, sir,” Thurston replied.

  “I didn’t think you would.”

  “By the time we take Marek off the board, I’m hoping we’ll know exactly where Knocker is being held.”

  Jones nodded. “Alex is dispatching Scimitar and his team to look around. Once they confirm a target, then Reaper will be able to join them.”

  “Here’s hoping that Jensen is still alive. After the NSA right royally screwed us, there’s a good chance he’s already dead.”

  “Let’s hope not,” Jones said. “There’s a good chance he’s still alive. You know these terrorist types like to splash what they do across the internet. Given that we haven’t seen anything yet, well…”

  Thurston nodded. “I hope so.”

  “How’s things otherwise?”

  “If you’re referring to the disciplinary actions I took down in Brazil, I’ll say this. The team and I had a robust discussion, and we sorted it out.”

  “Robust?”

  “It got heated for a while, but we’re all back on the same page now.”

  “The joys of command, Mary.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Make it a good mission.”

  She looked at him quizzically. “Should I be reading anything into that, Hank?”

  “There are people gunning for you, Mary, and I’m afraid that I might not be able to help you this time.”

  “But you’re the chairman—”

  She stopped when he spoke over her. “By the end o
f the week, I won’t be. I’m being put out to pasture. It looks like I’m being classified an old dinosaur.”

  “What happened?”

  “Long story and not for you to worry about. Concentrate on the mission.”

  “What are you going to do?”

  “I have something in the wind. I’ve got an old friend across the Atlantic who has a security firm he wants someone to run an eye over.”

  “Private sector?” Thurston said, raising an eyebrow.

  “Yes.”

  She held out her hand. “Good luck, sir. And thank you for your ongoing support of our work.”

  Jones took it, and his face grew grim. “Fair warning, Mary. Be done before I leave.”

  “I’ll do my best, sir.”

  “Roger that.”

  Thurston watched him go and turned to find Ferrero waiting. “Is everything alright, Mary?”

  She shook her head. “No, Luis. It’s far from being all right.”

  San Marino, Italy

  “We may have a location, ma’am,” Flint told Grayson. “Not exact, but it is a place to start.”

  “Where?”

  “South Sudan, as we thought. Our team there has identified an HVT associated with the individual they were sent there to find.”

  “How long before we can deploy Red Team to take the HVT into custody?”

  “As soon as we know where he is, a couple of days.”

  “Good. I’ll be joining you when you go.”

  “What do you wish to do about the other problem?” Flint asked.

  “It is only a matter of time before Thurston’s people show up on the ground. Deploy Green Team. I want them ready when they do.”

  “I can have them there by morning.”

  “Do it. What about the money?”

  “It was where he said it was. It was all taken to the secure location.”

  Grayson nodded. “Thank you.”

  Flint left her to herself. She walked across to a large plate-glass window and looked at the valley that was spread out before her. This was one of several places she had safe houses, the others being in Johannesburg, Zurich, and Berlin.