by J. M. LeDuc
“It can’t be disarmed; it’s always on alert. That’s the beauty of the system.”
Sliding his knife out of his belt, Red pretended to cut back and forth along Chloe’s wrist. “If you can’t get my men inside, I can always use a hand,” he said.
Both girls stared wide eyed at their adversary. Red just laughed as he dropped Chloe’s hand and said, “I just love a good play on words, don’t you?”
Ten minutes later, they were all back in the rent-a-car headed back to SIA.
Red eyed his hostages in the rearview mirror. “So, Madame Director,” he said, “have you remembered how to disarm the system or do my men use Mrs. Venturi’s hand to gain entrance through palmer recognition?”
“There is a way, but only two people know the correct disarmament code. One is the head of security, but he unfortunately is somewhere in the Middle East. The other is my administrator. If you let me borrow your phone, I’ll give her a call.”
“Do you take me for a fool? Why would I let you contact anyone inside headquarters?”
“Because you’re not a fool. If your intel is good enough to know about the palmer recognition, then you know that the security system takes a couple of hours to go through the entire shutdown sequence.” Maddie looked at the expression on Red’s face and she knew she had him. The male ego is such a fragile thing, she thought. I see his short comings aren’t just physical.
Red pulled his phone out of his pocket and gave it to Maddie, but before she had a chance to dial, he took it back. “On second thought,” he said, “we’ll wait until we are back at headquarters before you tell her, that way there can be no chance of you tipping her off.”
CHAPTER 47
It was late in the day and Joan was worried about the lack of communication from Maddie and Chloe. “It’s not like Maddie not to stay in constant communication with me throughout the day. It’s usually annoying with how often she calls.”
“Do you think anything is wrong?” Scarlet said.
Tapping quickly on the keyboard of her laptop, Joan answered, talking as fast as she was typing. “I’m not sure, but I’m not taking any chances. I’m going to e-mail Brent and hopefully he’s back with the living. If not, I’ll leave him a voice message to get back here as soon as possible. With any luck, it’s just a false alarm and everything will be fine when he and Seven get back home.” Turning to Scarlet, Joan said, “I need you to notify the rest of the squad and put them on high alert. Until I hear from Maddie, we need to be ready, just in case.”
“What should I tell them?”
A blank expression encompassed Joan’s face. “I don’t know, I just know that it’s something Brent would do if he was in the same situation.” After some thought, Joan said, “I need the squad to watch the front and back entrance to the complex as well as the only public entry into the tunnel system.”
Knowing Joan’s intuition, Scarlet asked a question she already knew the answer to, “Do you really think all that is necessary?”
Joan felt the hair on the back of her neck stand up, “I do,” she said.
Scarlet made the call and received instructions from Jefferson, the commanding officer of the depleted squad.
“Malcolm wants me to use the tunnel entrance and head to the airstrip,” she said as she ended the call.
Joan just nodded as she continued to bang away at the keyboard. As Scarlet readied herself to leave, Joan looked up and said, “I’m getting a bad feeling about this. If you don’t hear from me in thirty minutes, consider our security breached.”
“How’s that possible?” Scarlet said.
“I don’t know, but that’s the feeling I’m getting.”
CHAPTER 48
Red placed a call to a name that was familiar to both Chloe and Maddie, the night security guard at SIA. “We have an ETA of ten minutes. Make sure that everyone on the inside is alerted.”
The girls looked at each other with a look of disbelief. They couldn’t believe that headquarters had been infiltrated by the Brotherhood. I knew through our intel that the Brotherhood of Gaza is a vast operation and has infiltrated many organizations, Maddie thought, but I would have bet everything that they hadn’t infiltrated the SIA. Somehow, I need to get this information to Joan and to the Covenant team.
Before letting the girls out of the car, Red said, “I’ll have a gun on you at all times. If either of you say or do anything suspicious, I’ll drop you without warning.” He opened the door to the car and said, “Now, put smiles on your pretty faces and get out.”
Using palmer recognition, Maddie gained entrance to Headquarters. She used a round-about way to make her approach to the inner sanctum of the directorial offices. Each time she placed her palm on the scanner, she pushed off with the pad of her thumb. By doing so, she over-rode a specific portion of the security system. A message would automatically be sent to Brent’s sat phone that Headquarters had been breached.
Joan watched on the security screen as Father Reilly and her friends walked through HQ. She noticed how Maddie over-rode the system at each entrance point. She knew security was breached and contacted the squad.
Reaching the nerve center of SIA, they found business running as usual. Things were so smooth, Maddie wondered if Joan already knew something was afoot. By the time they reached Maddie’s office, Joan was all over them.
“Director Oliver, I need to speak to you in private.”
Listening to Joan addressing her, Maddie relaxed a bit. She knew Joan understood the ramifications of the situation. She wouldn’t have called her by her married name if she didn’t.
She opened her mouth to answer her when Red interrupted her. “Director, we really need to conclude our business before you run off with your secretary.”
Joan looked to goad Red and jumped into the fray with both feet. “Excuse me Father, but matters of national security are more importance than whatever you need to speak to the director about.” Red went to speak, but Joan cut him off before the first syllable could form in his throat. “And furthermore, I have worked hard to become the administrator of this facility, so even though you may be fine with being called a secretary, I would appreciate it if you addressed me by my name, Ms. Sibouno or my title, Administrator Sibouno.
“Now if you’ll excuse us for a few minutes, I need to speak to the director and Mrs. Venturi in private.”
Red revealed his gun while observing Joan’s reaction. A sly little smile swept across his face. “Your orders now come from me, Ms. Sibouno, so listen closely. . . ”
CHAPTER 49
Silence engulfed the helicopter as if took off from Alana’s village and headed back to the aircraft carrier. Brent was in deep thought when the vibration of his satellite phone brought him back to reality. The emergency message from Headquarters flashed across his screen. Before he could say anything to the others, Joan’s e-mail came scrolling across. As he was reading it, his phone started to beep the emergency signal. After reading the text, he tapped Q on the shoulder to get his attention. “Where is the B1-B?” he asked.
“On a hidden Saudi Arabian airstrip.”
“Head to it, we need to get back to Palm Cove as fast as possible.”
“Yes sir, Colonel,” Q responded. “Hold on, we’re about to go sideways.”
“What’s up, Colonel?” Seven said, as soon as the copter righted itself.
“There’s big trouble at home. I received a text from Joan. Her intuition was telling her that something was wrong back home. Then the automated security system alarm sounded telling me that there has been a breach at Headquarters.”
“How? Who?” Seven exclaimed.
“It’s all starting to make sense,” Brent said. “I’ve been having a hard time with one of Joan’s last texts. She said that Father Reilly was in town visiting a relative and wanted to take Maddie and Chloe to lunch. Something about that just didn’t ring ri
ght.”
“Come to think of it,” Bishop Jessup interrupted, “when we were in the Vatican he was always with us. He shadowed our every step. I even noticed that he was in the pontiff’s office when he was telling you about the Ark of the Covenant. I thought that was unusual since Cardinal Bullini wasn’t present, but at the time I had no reason to question his motives.”
“Colonel, you thinking what I’m thinking,” Seven said.
Brent nodded, “Yeah, I think I am.”
“Hey, twin sons from different mothers, could you spell it out for those of us who are less in tune?” the Bishop said.
Q laughed and then said, “Hold that thought, we’re about to make a tight landing. Even though the B1 is being watched by ‘friends’, have your weapons drawn as I park this bird.”
Looking around he maneuvered the controls and made a pin point landing on the far side of an active oil field. Opening a strong box, Q handed the team extra ammo and clips for the weapons.
“Where’s the fighter?”
Killing the engine and letting it wind down, Q smiled and looked back at Brent. “I feel better that even you can’t see it. When I give the okay, follow me and I’ll lead ya to her. There shouldn’t be anyone out here, so if you spot someone—pull the trigger—your first hesitation may well be your last.”
Seven packed his lower lip with tobacco and spit out the open door. “Nice friends you’ve left your toys with.”
“My friends just own the field, they don’t work it. This entire oil field is run by automation. All computer run. Every rig and every well is watched 24/7 by camera. This place is walled off by barbed wire fence with enough juice running through it to fry a human faster that you can fry a piece of bacon.”
Seven spit again, saying, “The more you talk, the more I like you, Q.”
Q looked back, pulled his weapon, released the safety and said, “We speak the same language, but this isn’t the time to give me a big head. I don’t want to give anybody a bigger target than they already have.” Pointing to an oil rig about seventy-five yards away, he said. “That’s our first destination. On three, we move. . . three.”
They exited the craft in unison and followed Q’s lead. Always aware of their environment. Between Brent’s shoulder and Seven’s leg, they looked more like a ragged bunch of misfits instead of the elite fighting squad that they were. Their appearance would give anyone waiting for them a heightened sense of superiority.
Out from behind a different oil rig a hundred or so yards away, Seven spotted a shadow begin to emerge.
Instinctively, he yelled, “Down. We’ve got company a hundred yards at eight o’clock.”
The four of them dropped onto their stomachs and took aim at the spot Seven yelled out. Seconds later, a crow emerged from behind a retired oil rig. Seeing that they weren’t under attack, Bishop Jessup lowered his weapon and began to get up off the hard packed sand.
“Hold your position,” Brent said.
The Bishop dropped back down and repositioned himself. Sensing Brent’s tension, he asked, “What do you see, Colonel?”
“I see a crow circling. They only circle if there is something to circle.”
“Or someone,” Seven said.
“Ah ha.” Feeling the confines of his taped shoulder, Brent told Seven to cut it loose.
“If we’re being watched, they know we dropped when we spotted the crow,” Brent said. “So they’re not very likely to do anything while we’ve got weapons pointed in their direction. On my go, each of us is to make his way to the back side of the rig Q was pointing to. Seven, you’re going first.”
“I’d rather stay here and cover the others with you, Colonel.”
“Ordinarily, that would be the plan, but with that bum leg, I want you to go first.”
“But. . . ”
“That’s an order,” Brent said. “Get ready to move out.”
“Yes, sir,” Seven responded.
“With your accuracy, you can cover the rest of us from the distance between the oil rigs better than anyone else, now move.”
Brent’s words made Seven feel better about bugging out. On the Colonel’s word, he went from belly flat to all fours. On the Colonel’s head nod, he hobbled as best he could toward the rig.
Not a shot was fired as Seven made his way to the rig, but the crow continued to circle the same area.
“You’re next, padre. I want you to run to the far side of the rig, so you don’t mistakenly get in Seven’s line of fire. On my go, make like a cheetah.”
The Bishop kept his attention on the crow and the rig, but kept his ears attuned to Brent. “Go, go, go.”
On Brent’s first utterance, he was up and running. Again, not a shot was fired, but the crow remained. As soon as Bishop Jessup was safe, he pointed to Q.
“You’re next. On my command you know what to do.”
Brent didn’t take his eyes off of the threat. He kept one on the oil rig and one on the bird. The crow now seemed to be indecisive on what it was doing. As Brent watched, it would make very broad circles and then suddenly tighten them up. It would go from staying high above the top of the rig to dive-bombing behind it only to resurface seconds later. Its movements don’t make any sense, Brent thought, unless. . .
Brent slid one hand down his pant leg and removed his secondary weapon. Reaching over, he handed it to Q, saying, “Cover me.” Before Q was able to respond, Brent was up and running in a zigzag erratic pattern towards the bird and the defunct oil rig.
Seven and the Bishop were watching from their new local behind the oil rig. “What the heck is the Colonel up to?”
Seven, who’d been witnessing the same thing that Brent had, allowed himself to smile, spit the tobacco juice out of his mouth and said, “The man never seizes to amaze me.”
“What does that mean?” the Bishop said.
Nodding his head in the direction of the crow, Seven said, “It’s the crow.”
“What?”
“It’s the. . . Oh never mind. It would take too long to explain. Just cover me.” With that, Seven was up and running toward where the bird had been circling. It wasn’t very graceful, but he was still able to keep a good pace. The smell of what he was hoping he wouldn’t find reached him before he reached the rig. When he got there, he saw Brent kneeling down, cradling the head of an older man, trying to get him to sip some water.
About twenty feet away were two dead bodies being victimized by a band of large birds that resembled vultures.
“What have we got here, Colonel?”
“I’m not sure, but I think this one is some sort of security guard. Its looks like he was attacked by the two you see over there.” Using his eyes to point to the dead men, Brent said, “They both have the sign of the Brotherhood on their arm. The organization must have infiltrated the Saudi oil companies.”
Seven squatted down and fell silent for a moment. “It makes me wonder what other highly secured organizations they may have infiltrated.”
“Yeah, I was thinking the same thing,” Brent said.
“How deep into the Alliance do you think the Brotherhood has infiltrated?”
“I’m not sure, but I have a hard time believing that they could get any deeper than the outer band of security. Either way, it makes getting home by way of the B1-B that much more important.” Lifting the head and torso of the wounded man off the sand, Brent added, “Help me get this guy off the ground. We’re going to have to carry him to where the others are.”
From where Q and the Bishop were situated they saw Brent and Seven emerge from behind the oil rig, carrying a body between them. Q, the closer of the two, was the first to arrive.
He looked at the face of the injured man and said, “That’s Mohammad. He’s the only one who has access to the field. He spends his days walking the field, checking for anything that might not be ri
ght.”
“I thought you said this place was completely automated,” Seven said.
“It is. Mohammad is the CEO’s uncle. He gave him the job, because Mohammad was too proud to take a hand out from his nephew.”
“Why was the attack not seen in the control room?” Brent asked.
“Good question, what d’ya say we find out,” Q said, taking his phone out of his pocket.
“Wait, I have a better idea,” Brent said. “Do you have the CEO’s cell phone number? One that nobody else will answer?”
“I was just about to call it. The number is on the screen now,” Q responded.
“Make the call, but I need you to tell him exactly what I tell you.”
“No offense, Colonel, but why don’t you make the call yourself. He would be honored to receive a call from the Ambassador.”
“He’s one of the knights?”
“How else would I get access to park a US B1-B fighter jet in a Saudi Arabian oil field.” Q said with a smile.
Brent shook his head in astonishment. “You guys take Mohammad and the Bishop to the jet, I’ll be there shortly.”
Brent spent the next five minutes talking to one of the members of the outer circle, the CEO of Rashtan Oil, one of the largest oil manufacturers in Saudi Arabia. After hanging up he went to find the others. Peering through the haze of the hot afternoon sun, he saw what he thought was a shadow of the B1-B emerging from the dust of the oil field.
Getting closer, he saw a sand colored tarp being removed from the fighter jet. “Nice camouflage, I never would have known it was there.”
“That’s the idea,” Q said.
“How did your conversation go?” Seven asked.
“The mole was the head of off-site security for the entire company. His tattoo gave him away.”
“What’s being done with him?”
