“You never did go in to debrief, did you Tom?” Bernatto asked. “I knew you wouldn’t. You don’t trust anyone. You’ve been working on your own. Alone. That makes you vulnerable.”
“You’re setting me up again,” Caine said. “Framing me for killing the Vice President.”
Grissom chuckled again. “You have to admit, with your background you’re the perfect fall guy. The narrative is flawless. A corrupt President. A disgraced killer, paid to assassinate a political rival on the eve of peace? Well hot damn! Now that’s how you run a coup, son.”
Takuba walked over to Caine. They stood face to face, his cold, dark eyes meeting Caine’s emerald stare head on.
“It was a mistake to come back, my friend. I warned you. My spirits protect me.”
Caine did not look away. “The only mistake I made was letting you live. But I won’t make the same mistake twice.”
Grissom’s smirking face looked down at them, multiplied across the screens in the room. “Well, what’s done is done. I won’t say I’m sorry, Tom. We both know that’s not true, and I won’t insult you with cheap sentiment. But I want you to know, what happens here today will bring peace to this country and security to the United States. Your sacrifice will not be in vain. I thought that might bring you some comfort.”
Caine turned to the screens. “You know what will bring me comfort, Grissom? Adding your name to my list.”
Grissom cleared his throat. “Takuba, take him to the helicopter,” he ordered. “Wait until the peace conference begins. Then finish it.” The screens blinked out and went dark.
Bernatto dropped the remote on the desk and shoved his hands in his pockets. He stared at Caine. “You never should have crawled out of Thailand, Tom. You should have stayed dead, put the past behind you. You should have listened to Jack.”
Two of the mercenaries dragged Caine to the door. Takuba smiled and gave a slight bow to Bernatto. Then he turned and followed them out of the room.
Chapter Thirty-Nine
Caine felt the helicopter shudder as they flew through a patch of turbulence. He sat on a metal bench in the cargo bay. His hands were cuffed behind him and attached to the steel pole that ran behind the bench. An identical bench ran along the opposite wall, and two Delta Blue mercenaries sat facing him, their assault rifles resting in their laps.
Nena was cuffed to the bench next to him. Her head was covered by a black hood. Judging by the muffled sounds coming from under the cloth covering, Caine assumed she was gagged as well. She huddled against the curved metal wall of the helicopter, trembling in terror. He longed to reach out to her, to give her some sort of comforting touch. He strained to turn his booted foot enough to touch her leg, anything to let her know she was not alone. But she was just out of reach.
“Nena, I’m here. It’s going to be all right,” he had whispered to her when they first boarded.
She had stopped her struggling, and her hooded head gave a tiny, imperceptible nod. They spent the rest of the flight in silence.
Behind them, towards the rear of the sloping cargo bay, sat a palette stacked with blue barrels of oil. A tight netting of yellow nylon straps held the barrels firmly in place on top of the wheeled palette. A heavy-duty winch mounted to the side of the aircraft locked the palate in place with a taut steel cable. A small stack of ballistic cases, unloaded from the AHA trucks, completed the chopper’s load.
The stacked barrels almost touched the ceiling of the cargo bay, and each one held fifty-five gallons of unrefined crude oil. Caine stared at the barrels as they rattled with each vibration of the helicopter. The oil inside was laced with the Gemini Virus. If those barrels were refined in a populated area, the virus would be unleashed.
People would die.
Behind the mercenaries, a row of circular portholes ran along the side of the helicopter. Caine glanced outside and watched the tan brush and parched earth rise up as the helicopter dipped. The craft dropped suddenly as it hit an air pocket. Caine felt his stomach lurch. The two mercenaries exchanged surprised glances and turned to look out the windows. The ground grew even closer. The helicopter was landing.
With a metallic thunk, the cockpit door slid open and Takuba stepped into the rear bay. He grabbed hold of a frayed cord that ran along the roof and steadied himself as the helicopter dropped again. One of his Ghost Jackals followed close behind. The man balanced on the balls of his feet as the craft dipped and swayed.
“Hey, what the hell is going on,” one of the Delta Blue men snapped. “We weren’t supposed to land until we reached Unity State.”
“It’s okay, no problem,” Takuba said, grinning at the two men. “Slight change of plans. We refuel here, at a local airfield. Then we continue our journey.”
“What are you talking about,” the man said. “We’ve got a full tank, we fueled up before takeoff. If we’re going to land here, I need to clear it with Bernatto.”
The merc lifted a radio from his belt. Takuba stepped aside as the Ghost Jackal raised a pistol.
The roar of gunfire echoed through the cargo bay. Blood splattered against one of the portholes as a crimson hole opened in the mercenary’s forehead. A muffled cry escaped Nena’s mouth. The Ghost Jackal pivoted and fired again.
The second mercenary’s eyes bulged as he slumped over on the bench and fell to the floor.
Takuba’s grin grew wider, and he laughed like a hyena. He slid open the side door of the helicopter. Wind exploded into the cargo bay and whipped through Caine’s hair.
“No room for dead weight,” Takuba shouted over the rushing vortex. He jerked his thumb towards the open door. The Ghost Jackal soldier grabbed one of the corpses and rolled it across the floor. It tumbled out of the aircraft and plummeted off into the distance.
After the second corpse flew off the helicopter, Takuba slid the door shut. The wind noise was silenced, and only the thumping hum of the rotors vibrated through the cargo bay.
“I warned Grissom and Bernatto they couldn’t trust you,” Caine said. “You’re a rabid dog, Takuba. You can’t resist biting the hand that feeds you.”
“Those men … Ha!” Takuba chuckled. “They think they can seduce me with empty promises of freedom. Buy my loyalty with scraps of power.” He reached up and tugged at the skin beneath his right eye. “But when I look them in the eye, I see the truth. Their lust for oil has turned their hearts and souls black. Their greed blinds them. They think I am like our President, or the leader of the rebels. Corrupt, foolish men, holding out their hands to be bribed with what their people have fought and bled for. But make no mistake, old friend. Bernatto and Grissom have served my purpose, my glorious cause. Not the other way around.”
He stood over Nena and yanked off her hood. She glared up at him with defiant eyes. Takuba smiled and caressed her chin.
“She is beautiful, Tom. Just like that girl all those years ago.”
Nena jerked her head away from his slim fingers. Takuba laughed and turned to Caine.
“Ah, and the temper on this one! What do you think? You want to fight me over this pretty as well?”
Caine’s lips curled into a grim smile. “If we had fought, you wouldn’t be standing here now. You’d be dead.”
Takuba chuckled. “You came all this way to kill me. But you do not know my secret. You see, I have already died once. Death could not hold me. The spirits, they were not done with me. There was still work to be done.”
“Listen to yourself, Takuba. You’re insane.”
“It is true. It happened a few years after you left South Sudan. I was fighting with the SPLM rebels, just outside Juba. A bullet struck me right here …” He pointed to a faint scar that ran along the side of his head, just above his ear. “It just kissed my skull. One moment I was shooting my rifle, killing my enemy. I remember the feeling of hot blood on my hands, my face. There was a white flash. And then … nothing. I knew time was passing, I could sense it. But all around me there was emptiness. No sun, no moon. Not even dreams. Only darkness
. Finally, I woke up in a small hut, outside the city. A local doctor had found me, cared for me. I don’t think he knew whether I was a rebel, or a government soldier. He did not care. He was a good man.”
“Sounds like he made the same mistake I did,” Caine said. “He saved your life.”
“No, good sir. That man cared for me, but it was my spirits that protected me. They were what kept me alive. They whispered to me while I slept, spoke to me of my great purpose.”
“Yeah? And what purpose was that? More killing? More genocide?”
Takuba smiled. Sunlight glinted off his red diamond tooth and reflected around the interior of the cargo bay.
“Soon, you shall see, my old friend. Soon, you shall see. Nothing here is as it seems.”
The helicopter dipped lower. Takuba turned to the Ghost Jackal standing behind him. “We will be landing in a few minutes. Take them off the helicopter while we transfer the cargo. If he causes any trouble … shoot her.”
He tilted his head and flashed Nena another leering grin. Then he stormed back into the cockpit and shut the door behind him.
Chapter Forty
The helicopter set down on a flat patch of land outside the Unity State borders. The only thing that identified the clearing as an airfield was a wooden shack standing in the distance. A lone windsock flew from a pole on the roof and fluttered in the scalding breeze.
The cargo bay's ramp lowered on hydraulics. Caine and Nena were marched out onto the airfield. Nena’s hood and gag had been removed, but their hands were still cuffed behind their backs.
A hydraulic whine rose above the noise of the wind. Caine watched as the cargo pallet, stacked high with the infected oil barrels, was lowered down the ramp. The helicopter's heavy-duty winch chugged and hummed. It released its spool of cable at a slow, controlled pace.
One of Takuba’s soldiers stood guard over them. The other stood next to Takuba, near the helicopter. The two men scanned the horizon. A cloud of dust moved towards them, growing larger in the distance.
“What the hell are we doing here?” Caine muttered. “Why is he unloading the virus?”
“I have no idea,” Nena whispered back. “There is no pipeline access here. But back in Juba, at the medical school, I was able to finish my examination of the samples. The bacteriophage has been altered. It is not the same as the original sample.”
“Altered by whom?” Caine asked.
She shook her head. “I don’t know. But the new organism will not release the virus when the oil is refined. The cell wall is too thick. It will survive the distillation process intact.”
“Nothing is as it seems …” Caine’s voice trailed off as he repeated Takuba’s words.
The Ghost Jackal eyed them with a wary glance and raised his rifle. “Shut up! No talking!”
The dust cloud moved closer. A small convoy came into view. The vehicles burst through the swirling air and heat distortion, and parked near the helicopter. The convoy consisted of a small flatbed truck flanked by a pair of filthy, battered Jeeps. Takuba exchanged some words with the men inside. It sounded like they were speaking in English, but Caine detected a slight accent to the men’s voices. They sounded Russian.
No, not Russian, he realized. Something else …
“These men are Chechen,” he whispered to Nena. “Galloway was following a group of Chechen arms dealers. He said they acquired the virus from a lab in Syria.”
The Ghost Jackal slammed the butt of his rifle into Caine’s back. Caine stumbled forward and dropped to his knees.
“I said no talking,” the man growled.
As he fell to the ground, Caine’s fingers brushed against the tops of his leather boots. The tips of his fingers wrapped around a small length of aluminum tucked into the left boot’s shaft. He staggered to his feet and continued to watch the men work.
The Chechens unloaded another cargo pallet from the truck. The helicopter’s winch groaned as it pulled the new load up into the cargo bay. The pallet appeared to be identical to the old one. The same number of barrels were stacked on board, and they were held in place by an identical mesh webbing. The only difference appeared to be a red band painted around the center of the new barrels.
Takuba paced over to them as the Chechen men locked the wheels on the cargo pallet inside the helicopter. Then they began loading the old pallet onto their truck.
“Get them back onboard,” Takuba shouted. “We take off now.”
The Ghost Jackal shoved Caine. As he stumbled towards the helicopter, his hand wrapped around the tactical pen he had removed from his boot. Takuba’s men had missed it in their weapons search. He slid the slim metal barrel down the back of his waistband, making sure his fingers could reach the cap.
Takuba followed them up the ramp of the helicopter and grinned as they were once again cuffed to the bench. He glanced at a rugged watch strapped to his wrist.
“Your time is almost up, my friend. In thirty minutes, the peace conference begins. As your life ends, a new era begins for my country.”
The hum of the rotors filled the air. The helicopter vibrated as it prepared for takeoff. Takuba turned his leering stare on Nena. She glared back at him for a moment, then looked away.
“Thirty minutes … less than an hour,” he said, his eyes wide above his shimmering smile. “I wonder how we shall spend the time?”
Chapter Forty-One
Sweat rolled down Josh Galloway’s face as he crouched behind the metal fence. Using the bolt cutters from the guard’s truck, he snipped another length of wire. He heard the roar of an engine and looked up. Takuba’s helicopter lifted off from the complex’s landing pad and soared into the blue sky above them.
Caine and the oil barrels were onboard. He had watched Takuba’s men load them before takeoff.
Gemini, he thought. It has to be in that oil.
Whatever Takuba and Bernatto were planning to do with it, time was running out. He had to get a message out, get someone to intercept the chopper.
But first, he had to keep his promise to Buri.
The boy huddled next to him, watching the complex through a pair of binoculars.
“A guard is coming this way … only one man,” he whispered.
Josh snipped one more wire in the fence, then ducked down as far as he could in the thick grass. They waited in silence.
The lone guard ambled along the perimeter of the fence. He moved past and disappeared behind a building. Josh sat up and continued working.
He cut a few more wires and tugged at the hole in the fence. The opening was larger now, big enough for him to slip through.
“There are fewer men now, less guards,” Buri whispered. He continued peering through the binoculars. Josh looked down at the boy and smiled. The lenses looked comically large against his tiny face.
“Thanks for the recon,” Josh whispered back. “Judging by all the trucks that rolled out of here a few minutes ago, I’d say it’s all hands on deck. Hopefully, that will make things easier.”
Buri lowered the binoculars. “What are you going to do?”
“I have to get a message to my friends. Warn them about what’s happening here. But first, I’m going to free your mother and the others.”
“I want to come with you, I want to help you!”
Josh shook his head. “Buri, you are the bravest kid I ever met. You’ve already helped me … you saved my life. Now, I need you to wait here. Your mother will be looking for you. Can you do that for me?”
Buri nodded.
“Okay, stay hidden in the grass and keep your head down. If you hear any shooting, run as far away as you can, got it?”
“Got it.”
Josh took a deep breath. “Okay. Here we go.”
He slid under the large opening in the fence. The wires bit and tugged at his tattered clothes, but he was able to make it under. He crouched inside the complex, cradling his captor’s AK-47 in his hands.
He turned and gave Buri one last smile, then stalked towards
the bunker that held the prisoners.
Inside, the building was dark. The office was empty, and the body Caine had left earlier had been removed. The heat in the dim concrete box was stifling, and Josh heard low moans and murmurs from the cells in the back.
Buri was right, Josh thought. This place is on a skeleton crew now. They’re pulling out, and they just left these people here to die.
He rummaged through the desk and found another of the yellow key cards.
Jogging back to the rows of metal doors, he began swiping the key card over the locks. One by one they clattered open and fell to the ground. The doors began to shake and rattle as the prisoners inside stirred.
He reached his old cell, number 15. He swiped open the lock and rolled up the door. The crowd of bodies inside looked up at him with slow, listless stares. They were weak from hunger and exhaustion.
“Aya, are you in here?” Josh shouted.
The woman staggered to her feet.
“I … I am here.”
“Good, good. Buri is outside the camp. He’s alive.”
The woman clasped her hands together. Tears spilled from her eyes. “Oh, thank God. Thank you Mr. Carter, thank you for coming back!”
“Don’t thank me. It’s my fault you’re here in the first place.”
A crowd began to form behind him as the prisoners spilled out into the corridor.
Josh turned and addressed the crowd. “Everyone, listen to me. I’ve made an opening in the western fence. It’s tight, but it’s large enough for a man to slip through.”
One of the prisoners pointed to the front of the building. “There are guards heading this way! Two of them!”
“Get back in the cells,” Josh ordered. “We can hide, let them move on before we escape.”
The men began to grumble and whisper.
“No! I don’t care if they have guns,” a lean, elderly man hissed. “I don’t care if I die … These men caged us like dogs. I am not going to run and hide. I am going to fight!”
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