The Genesis Cypher (Warner & Lopez Book 6)

by Dean Crawford

  ‘Everybody move away from your workstations and offices immediately!’

  Hellerman slipped the controller into his pocket and then hurried out of his office and confronted the men, feigning surprise.

  ‘What’s going on?’ he demanded. ‘Where is General Nellis?’

  ‘You’re relieved of duty,’ the leader of the Homeland team snapped without interest. ‘Surrender all security clearances, equipment and material immediately and egress the building under escort.’

  Eight of the ten men had formed a human corridor toward the elevators and stairwell, while the other two were shepherding staff away from their workstations and toward the elevators. As Hellerman looked over his shoulder he saw one of the giant screens showing an Apache attack helicopter racing over open field and desert scrub.

  ‘We have operatives in the field,’ Hellerman snapped. ‘They’re under fire and need support.’

  The Homeland agent looked down at Hellerman, his features without emotion as he replied.

  ‘All operations from this site are to cease immediately. Desist from all further communications. Any attempt at further operations will result in your arrest for treason.’

  Hellerman took a pace closer to the agent. In his lens he could see the drone inside the ducting vent, awaiting its next command.

  ‘What’s the charge for deliberate abandonment of a fellow officer, dereliction of duty and the cold blooded murder of your own countrymen?’

  The Homeland agent stared down at Hellerman and he could see now the conflict in the agent’s eyes, torn between explicit orders and his own humanity.

  ‘They’re under fire,’ Hellerman pressed. ‘They’re going to die or be captured. You want that on your conscience?’

  The Homeland narrowed his eyes.

  ‘Is Douglas Jarvis with them?’

  Hellerman did a swift mental calculation. Jarvis was still in the wind, but if Homeland were after him it may make them more wiling to extract Warner and Lopez.

  ‘Yes,’ he lied. ‘Jarvis is with them right now!’

  The Homeland agent hesitated and then made his decision.

  ‘You’re relieved of duty. You will report to Homeland for debrief immediately. Any attempt at further operations will result in your arrest for treason.’

  Hellerman scowled at the agent and shoved his hands angrily into his jacket pockets, finally convinced that Homeland was not looking to save lives but to remove them from play.

  ‘Their blood’s on your hands,’ he shot back as he stormed past into the elevator.

  The doors hissed shut and Hellerman said nothing as he watched the drone now flying under his control through the aluminium ducting. He managed to stifle a wince as he guided it with one hand around a tight ninety degree turn and clanged the drone against the wall of the duct, hoping that nobody in the offices below would notice as he guided the craft ever upward toward the main vents.

  The elevator in which he stood opened and Hellerman walked out onto the main foyer of the Defense Intelligence Agency’s South Wing building. He aimed for the security controlled exits and joined the queue, standing alongside Helen as she shot him a concerned and confused look.

  In his eyepiece Hellerman saw the drone reach the main vents at the roof, the shadows of the lazily turning blades of immense fans visible as the sun shone past them into a vertical shaft. Hellerman eased the drone up, controlling it with his hand still concealed inside his jacket and waited for a long moment as he watched the shadows of the turning blade.

  The blade passed by and Hellerman climbed the drone at full power. The craft shot upward and he saw a bright blue sky leap into view. He guided the drone out across the south building’s lawns and across Brookely Avenue, climbing high above the trees and the Capitol Beltway before he descended the craft into a copse of trees alongside the beltway’s off ramp on the eastern side. The drone thumped down onto the grass amid some bushes as the power signal faded out.

  ‘Stop there!’

  Hellerman turned and saw the Homeland agents rush toward him.

  ‘Hands in the air!’

  Hellerman put his hands up and stared in shock at the guards as they surrounded him.

  ‘Empty your pockets!’

  Hellerman complied, aware of dozens of staff watching him. The Homeland agents advanced toward him and searched him thoroughly. Their commander eyed him angrily as the search came up empty.

  ‘You got anything you want to tell me about, now would be a good time.’

  Hellerman shouted loudly enough for everybody in the entire foyer to hear him.

  ‘That I’m disgusted that despite my repeated warnings and requests Homeland just shut down an operation that has cost the lives of two of the DIA’s most respected agents?! Yeah, let’s talk about that, right here and right now in front of everybody!’

  The foyer fell silent, all eyes now on the Homeland agents. Hellerman saw their sudden expressions of shame as he pushed his advantage.

  ‘Why don’t we get the media down here too and tell them all about how you refused to save the lives of those two agents, even though you could see them under fire in Syria on live camera with helicopters close enough to reach them?!’

  The Homeland agents backed away as their leader put his weapon into its holster.

  ‘You’re free to go,’ he muttered.

  ‘Yeah,’ Hellerman said bitterly, ‘lucky me.’

  He turned his back to the agents in disgust and saw Helen standing nearby, her handbag over her shoulder, the controller tucked just inside it. He did not need to signal her his gratitude for she would be more than aware of it, and he could see in her eyes that she felt the same about the Homeland takeover as he did. Now his only thought was to retrieve the drone and its incalculably valuable cargo, bring Aisha to safety before Homeland understood what she represented, and then find Jarvis.

  ***

  XXXIII

  Al Kabir, Syria

  ‘Keep driving!’

  Ethan pointed to the south as Talal struggled to keep the truck under control, the sandy riverbank too loose for the chunky tires and aged engine to maintain purchase.

  ‘They’re coming around!’ Lopez warned.

  Ethan looked out of his open window behind them and saw the huge Hind gunship swing upward in a tight arc, its immense rotors beating the air like endless thunderclaps as it lined up for another pass.

  Ethan could see the wicked 20mm cannon protruding from beneath the gunship’s bulbous nose, the tandem twin–seat cockpit with bubble canopies and the arms extending each side of the fuselage, laden with rocket pods.

  ‘We’re no match against that kind of firepower,’ Ethan shouted above the wind as he ducked back into the cab and searched desperately for any inspiration as to how the hell they could survive long enough for the Apaches to arrive.

  ‘We should surrender,’ Talal advised. ‘They’ll kill us all!’

  ‘No,’ Ethan said, ‘they want their precious cargo back. They won’t risk shooting them too, especially if they’re who I think that they are.’

  Ethan glanced over his shoulder to look at the girls huddling with Lopez in the rear of the cab. He looked back out of the cab and saw ahead a low concrete bridge spanning the width of the river alongside them. Although the river was not large, probably no wider than about twenty meters, it was sufficiently deep to require regular bridges that would clear the flow in times of rare floods.

  Ethan looked at the bridge and then craned his neck back to see the huge helicopter descending out of its steep turn to pursue them once more.

  ‘Slow down,’ he said to Talal.

  ‘You want me to do what?!’

  ‘Slow down,’ Ethan insisted. ‘I don’t want us to get to that bridge too fast.’

  Talal stared at Ethan as though he had gone insane but he obeyed and the truck slowed.

  ‘I don’t want to know what you’ve got in mind,’ Lopez called from the back of the truck.

  ‘Be ready,’ Ethan sn
apped as he checked his ammunition and watched as the bridge loomed closer. ‘This will have to be fast!’

  *

  ‘There they are!’

  Gregorie pointed ahead as he hung from the side of the Mil–Mi 24 Hind gunship and saw the truck swerving awkwardly across the sandy shore of the river. The trees either side of the river made aiming difficult, and Gregorie was reduced to a frustrated passenger as he watched the pilots line up for another pass.

  ‘Warning shots across their hood!’ Gregorie shouted to the pilots through the microphone he wore. ‘But if they come within a hundred yards of the border, destroy them!’

  The pilots affirmed his request and Gregorie watched hungrily as they bore down on the battered old truck, the Hind one of the fastest and most powerful gunships ever built. It had taken only moments to slap temporary Syrian markings over the gunship’s native Soviet iconography, swiftly averting any danger of an international incident as Gregorie had commandeered the gunship an hour before. Fully armed and fuelled, there was no escaping this amount of firepower: Warner would either be captured or killed, and Gregorie had a glorious front–row seat to witness it.

  The Hind thundered down as the truck changed direction slightly and rushed toward a low concrete bridge spanning the narrow river beneath them.

  ‘They’re heading for the cover of the bridge!’ Gregorie snapped. ‘Cut them off if they try to hide under there!’

  The Hind descended, and suddenly gray smoke billowed past Gregorie and the side hatch as the huge 20mm cannon opened fire with a loud brrrrr crescendo that caused the entire fuselage to reverberate around him. Gregorie held on tight and looked ahead, the wind buffeting his head and body as he saw the massive rounds smash into the ground and the bridge ahead of the truck, clouds of shattered masonry blasting across the water.

  The truck swerved right to clear the worst of the gunfire, and then Gregorie saw it vanish beneath the bridge as the Hind soared overhead and climbed away. Gregorie ducked inside the helicopter and gestured to his men.

  ‘We’re going to have to cut them off and fight it out,’ he snapped. ‘Kill all of the adults but do not harm the children, understood? They’re needed!’

  The dozen Spetsnaz soldiers inside the Hind nodded grimly as the helicopter soared upward in a steep climb and Gregorie spoke once again to the pilots.

  ‘Cut them off any way you can!’

  The helicopter swung around and as the nose fell below the horizon once again Gregorie saw the truck racing alongside the river once more. The American had guts, Gregorie realized with a reluctant sense of admiration. They couldn’t possibly hope to outgun the Hind and they must know that he would never let them cross the border into Lebanon. It had taken only a few bribes by Colonel Mishkin to ensure the compliance of the handful of Lebanese military outposts nearby, and the Syrians were all fully engaged against the radical militants far to the north in Homs and Aleppo. The Yanks were on their own and there was nowhere else to run.

  ‘Sir, we have something on radar!’

  Gregorie pressed his earpiece closer in. ‘What?’

  ‘Three contacts, ten miles to the south, low–level, no identification. They’re coming right at us.’

  Gregorie hissed a curse beneath his breath. ‘Can you identify them?’

  There was a brief pause as the pilots used the Hind’s on–board camera to pin–point the location of the incoming signals.

  ‘They’re helicopters, Apache gunships!’

  Gregorie slammed a balled fist against the wall of the helicopter as he yelled his response.

  ‘That’s it! Cut them off and grab them, right now!’

  The Hind dove downward as the pilots completed their turn and began heading back toward the truck racing alongside the river. Gregorie watched as they expertly lined the truck up in their sights and then the cannons blazed again and deadly rounds rocketed toward the tiny vehicle.

  Gregorie saw the terrain directly in front of the truck become churned into a gigantic cloud of dust and debris as the huge cannon ripped into sand and soil. The truck swerved to avoid it but in the thick sand and rough terrain the vehicle lost a lot of speed.

  ‘Now, go now!’

  The pilot hauled the Hind’s nose up and the gunship slowed dramatically, the rotors thundering as they hammered the air with relentless blows. Gregorie held on tight as the massive gunship swung around, descending over the trees and flying sideways as the truck emerged ahead from the cloud of dusty debris.

  The Hind descended until it was just a few feet above the river, clouds of dust and sparkling water sweeping into the air in a spiralling vortex around it as the pilots aimed once again.

  ‘Fire!’ Gregorie yelled.

  The cannon fired a brief clattering burst and Gregorie hooted with joy as he saw the huge rounds smash into the jeep’s chassis and two of the big tires were shredded by the shrapnel. The truck swerved to one side and then shuddered to a halt on the river bank, smoke spilling from beneath its hood.

  ‘Deploy, now!’ Gregorie roared as he leaped from the hovering gunship and crashed down into the shallow water at the shore, unslinging his rifle from his shoulder as he charged toward the stricken vehicle.

  *

  Ethan yanked the wheel to one side as the massive bullets crashed into the truck’s underside and he felt the grip go from the tires as they were torn apart beneath him. He held the wheel to one side, turning the truck to the left so that he was protected from any incoming fire from the troops now spilling from inside the hovering gunship, and then he opened the cab door and leaped out.

  Ethan dashed into the cover of the vehicle, pulled his last two remaining fragmentation grenades and peered past the rear of the cab at the soldiers charging the truck. He saw Gregorie among them, and without hesitation he pulled the pins on both grenades and hurled them overarm, the weapons sailing over the truck in a high arc and plummeting down among the troops.

  He heard a shouted warning in Russian and then a double blast that thumped the air even above the roar of the Hind’s rotor blades. The grenades spread their lethal shrapnel in a supersonic starburst across the river bank as Ethan ducked out from behind the cab.

  Four of the Russians were down and screaming, but six more were up on their feet as Ethan opened fire with single shots, carefully aimed. He dropped two men before they scattered or went prone on the shore, a withering fire smashing into the cab as Ethan ducked back out of sight, bullets zipping past him and shattering the windows of the truck.

  Glass sprinkled down onto him as he rushed to the far side of the vehicle, using the big rear tires as cover. He leaned out again and saw the troops maintaining position, aiming at him. For a brief moment he wasn’t sure what they intended to do, and then he saw the huge Hind gunship rise up once more and begin to move to one side out over the river in a simple flanking manoeuver.

  ‘Damn.’

  Ethan was out of options and he whirled to sprint for the cover of the trees nearby when he heard another noise ahead of him. Even as he looked up he saw the unmistakeable form of three Apache helicopters rushing toward him, their cruel weapons gleaming in the sunlight.

  Ethan let out a whoop of joy, a broad smile breaking on his features as he turned and saw the Hind suddenly begin to retreat back toward the beach, the Spetsnaz soldiers leaping to their feet and sprinting for the cover of their only escape as their gunship landed.

  Ethan kept in the cover of the truck as he stepped forward and raised his hands, tossed the rifle to one side and waved at the incoming attack gunships. They were only a mile away, in close formation and at low altitude, coming in under the local Lebanese radar cover.

  Ethan waved harder and then suddenly he felt a cold dread in the pit of his belly as suddenly all three Apaches pulled up sharply and their rotors battered the air as they turned in unison. Ethan stared in dismay as the three helicopters performed a wide left turn and began heading back the way they came.

  Ethan grabbed the satellite phone and d
ialed desperately, listening for the ring tone in his ear. To his horror he heard nothing but static. Ethan dropped the phone and watched as the Apaches flew away into the haze, the noise of their rotors fading as those of the Hind grew louder.

  Ethan heard voices behind him and turned to see the Spetsnaz troops and Gregorie rush up on either side of the truck and aim their rifles at him. Gregorie advanced with a cruel smile on his face as he stared at Ethan down the barrel of his rifle and placed one boot over Ethan’s fallen M–16.

  ‘We meet again,’ Gregorie sneered.

  ‘Too soon,’ Ethan replied.

  Gregorie stepped forward, turned the rifle over in his grasp in one smooth motion and rammed the butt deep into Ethan’s guts. Ethan folded over at the waist and collapsed to his knees as his vision blurred.

  ‘Get the girls out of the truck and into the gunship!’ Gregorie snapped to his men.

  The troops behind Gregorie yanked the cab doors open, and then shouted to him in reply.

  ‘The truck’s empty!’

  Ethan managed to get control of his breathing as a grim smile spread on his face and he looked up at Gregorie.

  ‘Oops.’

  Gregorie snarled down at him as he swung the rifle once again and the weapon smashed into Ethan’s skull and knocked him sideways onto the warm sand. Despite the aching in his belly and the pain throbbing through his skull, the shore felt almost comfortable and he realized suddenly how tired he was.

  ‘Search the river, they can’t have gone far!’

  The troops dispersed as Gregorie looked down at Ethan, smiled, and then slammed one heavy boot into his face and Ethan’s world vanished into blackness.

  ***

  XXXIV

  ‘Damn it.’

  Lopez uttered the words under her breath as she crouched in the bushes two hundred meters away from where the Hind gunship had landed beside the river. She could see on the shore the tall Russian they’d last seen in Rome shouting orders and his men fanning out toward them.