“Uh, don’t go blowing up the building just yet, guys,” the captain interjected. “We’re supposed to be ghosts and limit civilian casualties. Blowing up a building is bound to cause collateral damage.”
“The Cubans will blame the Arabs. No one will know it was us that blew it up,” David shot back. “This is exactly what I think our mission is. If the Cubans didn’t let these guys stage their mission here, they wouldn’t have the problem of collateral damage. I can live with this!” David insisted.
“Yeah, but the guys who fund us may not be able to live with it. I’m going to run this by your old man and get back to you, so hold tight,” the captain ordered.
“This is my mission, my team, my decision, Captain and I say we do it!” David shouted in reply. Fields and Mitchell both sat up in their beds and looked hard at David who slammed his fist into the table as the comlink went dead.
“What’s going on?” Fields asked.
“We’re treated like we’re still in the military. Hurry up and wait. Don’t do anything that makes the boss nervous,” David spewed sarcastically. He stood and started to stomp about the room.
“Huh?” Mitchell asked as David turned and went into bathroom slamming the door behind him. Mitchell then looked at Montoya who knew what the question was without Mitchell asking.
“I reconned the safe house and found it full of explosives and Clarett wants to use the stuff to blow these guys up, but Captain Conners told us to wait. He wants the boss to okay it,” Montoya filled them in.
“What’s with the notebook?” Fields asked.
With a sigh, Montoya explained the mission guide and plans inside again. Both Andrews and Mitchell just stared at the mission guide for a couple of minutes and simultaneously said, “Damn!” Then, both men laid back down to try to get more sleep. It was only 04:45 and they had until 07:00 before they had to stand watch.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
After talking with Captain Conners, Chip, dressed in a pair of shorts, tennis shoes and no shirt, sat thinking in his office. He’d made Steven promise to let him call all the shots, but he had also promised Steven he’d give him a heads up if there was anything major about to go down that might upset some of his business partners or be detrimental to their businesses.
David had a good idea, the right idea. It was quick, simple and relatively safe for his team, but there was bound to be a lot of collateral damage with an explosion of that size. People would die—lots of people like little old women, little old men, and little children. He too, like David, had no qualms with that, but Steven and his buddies just might.
If Chip didn’t tell Steven, he could deny they were involved, but he’d already briefed him as to where the first missions were headed, so he’d figure out pretty quickly that Chip lied by omission. Steven wasn’t stupid. It hadn’t always been that way, and that caused Chip to wonder about his own core principles for the first time in many years.
Carrie stuck her head in the door to his office and asked with a slight smile on her face, “Problems?” She was dressed in a loose fitting t-shirt and shorts with flip flops on her feet, and for a moment, Chip wished that they had more than a good working relationship.
“What are you doing up?” Chip asked as he glanced at the clock which said it was 4:55 a.m.
“I heard the operator ring you. The walls aren’t all that thick,” Carrie answered as she stepped across the room and took a seat in front of the desk. She too was wishing that something more was going on between them.
“We’ve already made progress in Cuba. We can eliminate the targets easily, but it could cause a lot of collateral damage. It’s not that tough of a decision, really. Actually, it’s easy for me, but I have to think about Steven and how it’ll play with his partners.
“I’ve got to explain that we can get the bad guys, but there will be collateral damage. Quite possibly, a lot of collateral damage. The Cubans have only themselves to blame—they chose to place the terrorists among their citizens—so it’s their own fault. The argument will be the civilians don’t have any choice in Cuba so we can’t harm them.” Chip was just thinking out loud and Carrie sat there quietly listening, until Chip took a breath.
“After what they did to us, if someone is in any way helping or hiding them, I, for one, don’t care how many civilians get hurt or killed. Steven’s got to understand this happens. If we don’t make the move now, it could bite us in the ass later. I’d rather it was them than us!” Carrie spoke with an unusual amount of passion. Chip couldn’t help but think that she was his kind of woman.
“Well, go on back to bed, and I’ll wake Steven so he can soften the news to the partners. He wanted a war and he’s about to have one, complete with all the blood, guts and public whining that goes with it.”
Carrie smiled as she stood and winked at Chip as she left. Over her shoulder she chirped, “Don’t sleep in the chair. It’ll kink your neck!”
“Yes, dear!” Chip shot back, flirtingly.
The call went pretty much as he thought it would with Steven. At first, Steven couldn’t believe that Chip had called at 5:00 a.m. with something this big. He tried dodging the issue for several minutes, talking about the latest news from Washington, noting the poptarts who couldn’t find their asses with both hands and a seeing eye dog. He then talked about his latest public rant in front of the National Chamber of Commerce about the ineptitude of President Starks on the economy and the war on terror, only to finally tell Chip he would call back in a few minutes.
Steven went back to bed, snuggled up to his wife and lay there holding her tightly, thinking about the operation in Cuba. He had asked Chip to make this all happen, and Chip had done it. Steven knew that Chip only called as a courtesy and that he had already decided to go through with the attack, but he wasn’t sure how he felt about the collateral damage issue.
Steven didn’t want to kill innocent people, but they were letting the terrorists use their country as a base from which to plan their next attack on America. Hell, they were planning on attacking Chicago next. He tried to tell himself it was not his fault that they put their people at risk, but it felt wrong. Americans don’t kill innocent people. We’re the good guys. He was a good guy, yet they had tried to kill him and his family. He knew they would try again unless he got them first.
Steven wondered just how many people he could accept being collateral damage and still sleep at night. Ten people, fifty people, a hundred, a thousand, or ten thousand? Would this course of action change him? Would he become cold and callus towards others? He tried to think of it as a business transaction. He knew people get hurt all the time when you bought out other businesses or your product forces other companies to close shop because they couldn’t compete. Did he feel bad about the life changing consequences of those actions?
“Honey, was that Chip?” Mary asked, still half asleep as she snuggled deeper into his arms, breaking his train of thought.
“Yes,” he stated without offering any further information.
After a minute, Mary asked, “Well? What did he say? He wouldn’t have called this early unless he was going to take action that might cause you trouble, right?”
“You are way too perceptive,” Steven remarked, trying to avoid the first question.
“Look, you’re not a good liar, so just tell me or I’ll hound you till you do. You know you’ll give in sooner or later,” she assured him, then pushed her butt, teasingly, against his stomach.
“Chip says they’ve found the first group of terrorists and he can get them, but there is going to be collateral damage, maybe a lot of it.” Stephen tried to keep it short.
“The terrorists are hiding within the civilian population and Chip’s plan may cause some of the civilians to be injured or killed, is that right?” she asked, trying to be a sounding board for him more than anything else.
“Yeah, that’s it. I can’t help but wonder if there might not be another way.”
“Well, let’s see. You hired the bes
t military man in the world to run your army, oops, sorry honey, your Corporate Security Force,” she corrected herself with only a bit of sarcasm, “and he says this is the best way to do it. He says this way will have the least amount of risk for his men, and it’s the best way to keep anyone from realizing that you’re behind it, and you’re wondering if there’s a better way, right?” Mary asked. She didn’t wait for an answer before continuing.
“Steven, stop second-guessing yourself and Monday morning quarterbacking Chip! You know as well as I do, Chip saved us in California, and if we give him the tools, he might just save America from itself. It’s too bad and I’m so sorry that someone not directly a terrorist might die, but I don’t want the terrorists coming here and killing anyone in my family, or anyone I’m friends with, or any more innocent Americans. Anyone who helps them is as guilty as the terrorists. If they start to feel the pain and fear that we feel, then maybe they will stop harboring them and we can all live in peace.” Mary squeezed Steven’s hand as she took a deep breath and waited for Steven to speak.
Steven whispered to Mary to go back to sleep and slid his arm out from under her. He thanked her for being who she was—his soulmate—and for knowing just what he needed to hear.
He crawled out of bed and went to call Chip back.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
Startled by the beeping of his watch, David awoke instantly and immediately reached for the comlink while glancing at the time. Six hours had passed and no word. David installed the comlink in his ear and called Shields.
“Three, One. How about a sit rep?” David asked without fanfare.
“One, Three. It’s quiet. Our friends are all tucked in. The fourth one showed up about two hours ago, alone. No sign of the minders yet this morning.”
“Roger, that’s all I needed to know. Stay sharp,” David replied and then called the ship. “Mother Hen, One. I need an update. What’s the verdict? Do we have a go or not?” David asked without waiting for Hanchell to acknowledge he was there or not.
“Nice to hear from you, One! I was beginning to think you’d taken the day off and gone to the beach,” Hanchell replied in his offbeat manner, trying to be humorous.
“I don’t have time for your crap right now. I need to know if I have a go.” David’s desire to have revenge was clearly overriding his training.
“Well, don’t get your knickers in a bunch. I was told to wait until you called in and then connect you with the boss. Hold on a moment while I patch you through.” Hanchell sounded almost hurt by David’s impatience.
A couple of minutes later, Hanchell was back on. “One, here’s the boss, go ahead,” Hanchell connected David straight away.
“David?” his father’s voice came across loud and clear.
“Do I have a go?” was all David could utter and still be civil.
“Son, I had to go up top. There’s going to be lots of collateral damage as I understand it. Although it is my call, I felt I had to warn the powers that be of the possible fallout and at least appear to be keeping them in the loop,” Chip replied, making it sound more complicated than it was.
“That’s just bullshit, sir!” David’s spat shrilly. “You said you were in charge, or was that some lie you told me just so I’d join this circus?” David spat, his anger growing. “So what’s my answer? If I can’t take action now, I need to come up with another plan and fast.”
“What’s with the ‘sir’ crap?” Chip strained to keep his cool. David hadn’t spoken to him this way since he was a teenager. “I’m not a general anymore and there is no protocol to worry about, so try calling me Dad!” Chip tried to force David to relax with his lecture, but David didn’t reply, so Chip continued. “Is recon still telling you they are in the apartment?” Chip asked.
“Yes, sir!” David curtly replied.
“How will you proceed?” Chip queried, knowing he needed to slow David down, both physically and mentally. This was far too personal for both of them.
“I know what I’m doing! Do I have to have you approve my every move before I make it?” David challenged. “Because if I do, this isn’t what I signed on for!”
“No, you don’t. I’m asking to make sure that you haven’t let your emotions get out of control on this. We both know what motivates me and you. So let’s take it slow and do it right, okay?” Chip did his best to sound fatherly and wise.
After a moment or two, David spoke. “I get the picture. No, my emotions haven’t gotten the better of me,” David stated, sounding only slightly convincing. “This is the quickest and best way to do this. No one will ever know it was us, and we can make a clean get away. It’ll just appear that they got drunk and blew themselves up. We’ll set a detonator after they leave for their night out tonight. When they come back and we’re far enough away, we’ll flip the switch. It’s that simple,” David stated. Although Chip could hear the tension in his voice, he knew he had to trust in David’s training.
“Okay. Good luck and Godspeed, son. Send those bastards to hell!” Chip stated and then hung up before David could reply.
David sat quietly for a few moments gathering his self control, then he stepped into the next room and nudged Montoya. “Mike, wake up. We’ve got fireworks to set off!”
Aboard the Honolulu Sunrise, the topside crew worked slowly at unloading the containers of spare tractor and car parts from Canada, while the secret crew was working hard below decks at gathering surveillance intelligence. In the interim, the captain busied himself with working out a plan to sink The People’s Glory, which as luck would have it, was docked at the far end of the same pier. Captain Conners watched the ship on the monitors in the control room as it was being loaded by a military crew, while armed military guards kept everyone else at a distance.
“What do you think they’re loading?” Bob Miller asked over his shoulder. Miller was the ship’s Chief Engineer. He had over twenty-five years experience on every type of Navy ship there was, from small cruisers to nuclear aircraft carriers. He had grown tired of the military lifestyle and was looking for something or somewhere to retire to when he had met Captain Conners. They quickly developed a friendship and the captain had made him an offer he couldn’t refuse—to join his band of merry pirates.
Miller was only too eager to switch billets. The Navy had already told him they were going to transfer him to a desk somewhere since he was getting a little long in the tooth by their standards, and they wanted younger men overseeing the day to day operations of the fleet. They’d suggested parts procurement which told Miller they were setting him up to be put out to pasture whether he wanted to go or not. The most difficult thing about making the switch had been giving up his citizenship. He was tried and true, red, white, and blue.
“I can’t tell. Everything is either crated or in metal containers. There are no markings on any of them that I can see through the cameras,” Captain Conners replied.
“They sure are serious about no one taking a good look at whatever it is,” Miller commented.
“How’s our dive sled?” Conners asked.
“Five by five, as usual. Why?” Miller asked, a little ticked that the captain might imply there could be a problem with any of his equipment.
“I think I’ll have to take a closer look at The People’s Glory tonight. Maybe leave them a small present as a welcome to hell gift.” The Captain smiled as he thought about that.
“Well, aren’t you the image of polite society,” Miller quipped sarcastically. “Yeah, yeah, get the dive sled ready. I have a ship to sink,” the captain ordered.
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
“Okay, that’s the plan, any questions?” David Clarett asked his men, then continued without waiting for them to respond. “All right, Fields, Mitchell, you take up positions at opposite ends of the block. Montoya, find Shields a roof that’ll give a good view of the street and of the minder’s observation post across from the safe house,” David continued.
“Boss, I still think my perch is the
best spot to watch everyone’s back. It’s the highest point around,” Shields interjected for the fifth or sixth time.
“It doesn’t give you a view into the minder’s OP!” David said sternly, while giving him a look that was meant to end the conversation for good.
The team, including David, slipped out the back of the hotel once again and made their way to their prearranged posts. A few hours earlier, David had gone to the docks, and there, he picked up a canvas duffle bag from a crew member on shore leave. It had been a simple drop and switch move. While David stood in a group of about hundred men waiting for a work assignment, the crew member simply set the bag at David’s feet, trading it for the identical one already there filled with the papers and notebook from the safe house.
It wasn’t until after the switch had taken place that David, while looking over the crowd, noticed that his friends from the night before—the security operatives–were standing several yards away in the shade of an awning over the entry door to one of the offices, sharing a drink with one of the foremen. They smiled and actually waved at him, but they didn’t make any effort to approach him. It was a blessing, because if they had, he would have been forced to discard the all-important duffel bag. Pepe and his crony, the smiling Jacko, watched David as he walked away after not having been chosen to work. As David rounded the corner of building, he gave Pepe one last look. In return, Pepe pointed at his own eye and then at David, the universal sign of intimidation which translated into ‘I’m watching you.’
In the all-important bag which Pepe wasn’t attentive enough to notice, were three dart guns and a dozen darts that contained a fast-acting sedative, plus two strong magnets. They’d use the dart guns to knock out the minders, then plant the bomb and wipe the motherboard on the computer clean with the magnets.
In the late afternoon, Fields and Mitchell went to opposite ends of the block in which the safe house sat and settled in for the duration. They each found a quiet shadow-filled doorway to slip into and made it appear as though they were just trying to find some shade in which to drink. The buildings around them were empty, and the few people that walked past ignored them. They were hiding perfectly in plain sight.
Reprisal!- The Eagle Rises Page 25
