Perilous Cargo

by Don Pendleton

  “My guess would be that you’re going to have to contend with more than Vitaly. The Chinese are getting restless and our informants say they’re sending a high-level operative of some kind into the area. Time is running out, Striker.”

  “I hear you. We’re sheltering tonight, but we’ll be back in pursuit at first light.”

  “One other thing. Weather reports for the region show another blizzard heading your way, and this one is going to hang around a little longer.”

  “Perfect,” Bolan said. “Maybe it will slow them down.”

  “I don’t care what it takes,” Brognola said. “Get that damn nuke. Anything else?”

  “One minor thing,” Bolan said, glancing over his shoulder to ensure Solomon and Nischal were out of hearing range. “Solomon isn’t himself sometimes. I’m not sure what’s wrong with him, Hal—could be dementia or Alzheimer’s—but he...gets confused once in a while.”

  There was a brief silence, then Brognola said, “Let’s not worry about it right now. Take what help he can give you and make the best of it. Hell, Striker, he’s an old man. My memory isn’t what it used to be, either.”

  “Understood,” Bolan said. “I’ll update you again as soon as I can, but tell the President to hold that other team. I don’t want any more players on the field than we’ve already got.”

  “Will do,” Brognola said, then broke the connection.

  Bolan tucked the phone back into his coat and returned to the interior of the temple. Nischal had managed to find food, sleeping bags, ammunition and some new weapons, too.

  “This really was a fallback,” Bolan said.

  “I had to keep things safe,” Solomon suddenly said. “The Russians can’t be trusted.”

  It was obvious to Bolan that he wasn’t referring to the current group of Russians they were dealing with. He was trapped in his mind, somewhere in the past. Bolan moved closer to Nischal.

  “Well, untrustworthy is one way to describe Vitaly,” he said quietly. “But it’s not the first adjective I’d choose.” He filled her in on his conversation with Brognola. Nischal frowned when he mentioned that he’d told Brognola about the old spy.

  “I promised to protect his privacy,” she said.

  “I don’t see that happening long-term, do you?” Bolan’s expression was serious. “He’s not safe out here.”

  “No, but maybe we can limit the information, find some way to help him out.”

  “When this is over, I’ll do everything I can for him, but first we have to get the nuke and all of us someplace safe.”

  “You have a plan?” she asked.

  “Yeah—get the nuke back and get us all someplace safe. The details we’ll have to figure out on the fly.”

  “What are we going to do with Nick?”

  “Take him with us and hope he’s more lucid than not.”

  “And if he gets worse?” she asked, glancing nervously at the old man.

  “The weapon is the priority. Any other problems we’ll deal with as they come up. It’s all we can do.”

  There was a long silence, then Nischal nodded and moved to sit down next to Solomon and wrap a blanket around him. He sat stonily silent, staring into the fire, and eventually he and Nischal fell asleep. Bolan settled in to keep first watch, wondering which stories from his past would haunt him if he were in Solomon’s place.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  After the long flight to a city he’d rather not be visiting, Kolodoka was in no mood for games. He much preferred the luxuries of the life he’d built for himself in the United States, or even London or Moscow, to having to visit these backwater nations to keep the world from going up in a giant fireball.

  His personal bodyguard, a gigantic mute man named Nesti, walked beside him. He’d found Nesti in a Siberian prison camp, and he was the only man he genuinely trusted with his life. Physically, Nesti fit his name—which meant “bear”—well, and when angered, he resembled the animal even more. He’d already been briefed on the potential dangers they faced in Kathmandu, and in spite of the big man’s silent, stoic expression, Kolodoka had no doubt that he was on alert. They reached Li Soong’s warehouse and paused at the entrance.

  Kolodoka took a final drag off the cigarette in his hand, burning it down to the very edge of the filter, before dropping it to the ground and stepping on it as he made his way inside.

  “That is an unsavory habit for a man in your exalted position,” Li Soong said, his voice coming out the dark.

  Kolodoka spun, trying to dismiss the distinct feeling that he was a fly caught in a surprising web. “And sneaking up on people and startling them is an unsavory habit for a man in your...unique position,” he replied. “You always have to do that, don’t you? You can never just wait for someone to actually reach your office and offer them a drink like a civilized man.”

  “Of course not. A man in my position cannot afford to waste opportunities at intrigue. There is little of it to be had here in Kathmandu...until recently, that is. Still, you are correct. There are much better games to play, and the one we are playing hardly requires such silliness. Under the circumstances, there may be no room for humor at all. A number of players are already in motion. This is not the time to sit at the side and watch.”

  “And what game is it you think we’re playing, Soong? I didn’t realize you had a vested interest in this.” Kolodoka reached into his jacket pocket, removed another cigarette from the pack and lit it.

  “On that account, I’m afraid you’re wrong. You sent your dog in to attack and now you will not be able to undo the damage he’s done. He’s creating a full-scale disaster.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “This Vitaly of yours has spent his time killing monks and torturing anyone he believes has information. He has not been making friends.” Li Soong shook his head. “Worse, he is making many enemies and a lot of noise. He is as subtle as a rutting bull.”

  Kolodoka sighed. “I agree. This Vitaly is a disaster that needs to be controlled.”

  “If you wanted control, then you should never have sent him.”

  “I didn’t send him,” Kolodoka protested. “He wouldn’t have been my choice at all for a mission like this.”

  “Whoever sent him, then,” Soong said. “The responsible party will be seen as Russian Intelligence. What is your plan now?”

  Kolodoka paced the floor, lighting another cigarette and thinking. Nesti remained still, watching the doorway and the interior of the warehouse. Kolodoka had hoped Vitaly would show at least some restraint, but now... He took two long drags and then turned back to Soong.

  “Russia must be protected. No matter what.”

  “You mean that you must be protected,” Soong replied.

  “Of course I want to be protected, but the potential damage to my country comes first. This needs to be contained. The United States is already involved—I’m sure of it. And China is going to stick their big, overreactive fingers in at any minute, too. We can’t start a war out here because a bunch of field assets went crazy.”

  Li Soong nodded. “You are correct. My sources tell me that there are already Americans in the field and that China is sending someone. Yet you are also forgetting another issue—once Vitaly has his prize, he may or may not return it to Russia.”

  “You think he would sell it?”

  Li Soong laughed. “I think he would sell his own mother for a liter of good vodka if that was what he desired at the moment. He’s involved in the market already, so if the opportunity presents itself, I expect him to...investigate.”

  “You know this.”

  “I have helped him do business in the past along with his friend Fedar.”

  Kolodoka paused, watching Soong with suspicion. The man was always such a shrewd character and unwilling to give information withou
t taking his pound of flesh. Kolodoka considered his options. With Vitaly on a rampage, they were few, and none of them were particularly appealing.

  “Why would you just give me this information? Why not extract a price?”

  “There is always a price, but these men are bad for business. Many people will look this way if they are here killing. I prefer it when my business goes unnoticed and unexamined. There is profit in it for me to get rid of them.”

  “So you’re suggesting we get rid of Vitaly?”

  Li Soong laughed softly. “I am not suggesting we do anything. I am suggesting that you have a problem that is drawing a lot of attention. You would be wise to end the problem. Once the Chinese learn of the threats to the monasteries, there will be immediate and dire consequences.”

  “The Chinese don’t even like Tibet.”

  “Yes, but in their view, Tibet belongs to them, to disparage or destroy or not as they see fit. For anyone else to do these things would be taken as a great insult.”

  Kolodoka nodded. “I have other things I need to see to, but you and I will meet again.”

  “I am always your humble servant.”

  * * *

  VITALY SMILED AS he scanned the landscape ahead. Chen had trapped himself far more neatly than the Russian had expected by driving into a box canyon with no way out. As Vitaly’s men took up positions, the gunfire from Chen’s forces slowly dwindled from staccato bursts to individual shots that were easy to distinguish as they neared the end of their ammunition. Vitaly had only to wait the warlord out.

  He gestured for one of his men to come closer. “Take the sniper rifle up there,” he said, gesturing to the top of the ridge that overlooked the canyon. “If you see a way to clean out a few in hiding, go ahead, but keep your eyes open for my signal.”

  The man nodded, slung the rifle onto his back and began climbing. Vitaly estimated it would take about an hour to reach the top, but the wait would be worth it.

  “This should put an end to it,” Fedar said. “He can’t have that many men left.”

  Vitaly nodded. “It shouldn’t be long now.”

  They waited patiently for the sniper to summit the ridge, holding the other men back from advancing.

  “Just fire enough to keep their heads down for now,” Fedar ordered them. “There’s no reason to waste lives or bullets.”

  Once the sniper had settled in, he immediately began wreaking havoc. He fired multiple times in rapid succession, and judging by the shouting and screaming, he’d been spotted the enemy’s primary nest and was taking out the last of the holdouts.

  Vitaly watched as Chen revealed himself on top of the platform that carried the nuke. In one hand, he held a grenade. As Vitaly closed the distance between them, he pulled the pin.

  “Stay back!” Chen shouted. “Or we’ll all go to hell together!”

  Vitaly stopped with Fedar at his shoulder. “There’s no need for this, Chen,” he said, holding up his hands to show they were empty.

  Chen’s eyes narrowed suspiciously.

  “You’re out of men, out of ammo and trapped, and still I approach you without a weapon in my hand. We can still make a deal, in spite of your actions.”

  “A trick,” the man said. “You don’t want to die.”

  “You’re right,” Vitaly said. “I don’t want to die, but neither do you. Come down from there and we’ll work this out.”

  “How?” Chen asked. “You just want me out of the way.”

  Vitaly shrugged. “Sure I do, but only because I’m like you. You only want a profit—the same as I do. Come down here and we’ll work out a deal that will make us both happy.”

  The warlord hesitated, but Vitaly could see him running through the options in his head. This was really his last chance. Finally, he nodded and slipped off of the platform. He moved cautiously toward him, still holding the grenade in one fist.

  “What’s the deal?” he asked.

  The last of Chen’s men huddled by a jumble of boulders, having thrown down their weapons and given up a fight they couldn’t win. All of them held their hands high in surrender.

  “Despite your treachery, I’m going to make you the deal of a lifetime,” Vitaly said. “Come. Let’s discuss it like civilized men.”

  Chen stood directly in front of Vitaly. “You understand that I... This was a once in a lifetime opportunity.”

  “Of course,” Vitaly said. “Anyone would do the same in your position.”

  “They would?”

  “Certainly,” he replied. “Here you are, scratching out a living in the middle of nowhere, trying to get by on the slim pickings along the Friendship Highway, and then you get your hands on something worth...well, millions maybe. Who could blame you for wanting a better life? Not me, that is for sure.”

  “I am glad you understand,” Chen said.

  “He’s very understanding,” Fedar said. “It’s one of his trademarks.”

  Chen took one last step and Vitaly held up a hand to stop him from coming any closer. “You’re still holding that grenade, Chen,” he said calmly.

  Chen’s head exploded as the sniper saw the signal and took him out. The shock caused the man to throw his arms up in the air and release his hold on the grenade. The lever popped off the side and Vitaly reached forward, snagging it out of the air.

  He silently counted off two more seconds, then tossed it into the midst of Chen’s remaining men. Fedar joined him as they tucked in next to the mobile platform and covered their ears to block out the worst of the blast.

  He got to his feet, then looked to Fedar. “Finish off any survivors.”

  “Shouldn’t take long,” Fedar quipped as he stepped away.

  Vitaly returned to their vehicle and picked up his satellite phone. He dialed Grigori’s direct line.

  “Give me good news.”

  “It’s done,” Vitaly said. “We have the weapon and we’re cleaning up now. Everything is well in hand.”

  “That is good news,” Grigori said. “I’ll leave for the airport immediately.”

  Vitaly paused. “I’m not sure I understand. The airport?”

  “I will be meeting you in Kathmandu,” his boss replied. “I want to ensure that the last phase of this operation is completed without any additional problems.”

  “There is no need to come yourself,” Vitaly protested, thinking of money lost if Grigori showed up here.

  “A good superior spends time in the field as well as the office. I want to see this for myself. Have no fear, Vitaly—all will be well.”

  Vitaly had the sinking feeling that all was not well, but he had the weapon. Perhaps the time had come to do something about Grigori and ensure his own future at the same time. After all, a good superior was often promoted from within.

  He put the phone back in the truck and shook his head as snowflakes began to swirl down. Peering toward the mountains, he cursed softly. A storm was coming, a big one by the looks of it, and they wouldn’t be getting very much farther down the road today.

  * * *

  SOONG WATCHED THE man strut in and knew he had a new customer. New customers were always good—they brought business and were often an acceptable alternative to current customers. Usually, they had information that would be useful in one of his many enterprises.

  “May I help you?”

  “I was told that you are the man with information.”

  “I have many talents and gaining information is one of them...for a price, of course.”

  “I don’t give payment until I know that someone has what I need.”

  “I would say you are looking for some troublesome Russians and perhaps some Americans?” Soong suggested. He knew he had to be careful now. This was the operative the Chinese had sent, and Kolodoka had paid him well.
/>   The man pulled out a wad of money and passed it to Soong. “Where?” he said.

  Soong picked up the money and counted it quickly. It was hardly enough to buy a few precious sentences, whereas Kolodoka would keep him paid for years. “There is a border crossing on the Friendship Highway. I should think you would want to position yourself there.”

  “Why there?”

  “With so many people seeking a prize in such a remote area, there is bound to be a winner and a loser. The only place they can gain a reward for their prize is to return it to Kathmandu. There is no safety in any other direction, only hiding, and none of the parties involved are interested in spending the winter in the Himalayas. They will come through that crossing.”

  “If you’re lying,” the Chinese man said softly, “you will not like the result.”

  “There is no need for threats. I am a purveyor of information. You paid and bought information, which I have given you freely. In fact...” Soong considered his next move carefully. “Allow me to send some of my own men with you. The Friendship Highway is no place to go alone.”

  “So your men can kill me and steal it once it’s in my possession.”

  Li Soong laughed. “I do not trade in things that bring so much attention. I want my region of the world to be peaceful again. I do not care who ends up with the item, so long as they leave. My men will not harm you in any way.”

  Soong waved at his second, who stepped forward and bowed at the waist. “Take four men and help this gentleman acquire the object he seeks at the border crossing. Provide whatever assistance is necessary to his enterprise and do not harm him.”

  “Of course, sir,” the man said, bowing again. He turned toward Lin and said, “If you’ll follow me?”

  The customer shot him a sharp, final gaze, then nodded and left the warehouse.

  Li Soong watched them go, then smiled to himself as he returned to his private office. His collection was coming along nicely, and with all his new friends, he would be adding to it very soon.

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  The sun rose, and the confused old man who had huddled next to a shrine the night before was now strong and vibrant, ready to take on their opponents single-handed. Solomon moved with alacrity, and his voice was clear and sharp. Bolan watched as he and Nischal gathered up their belongings and resupplied themselves from Solomon’s hidden stash.