by J. C. Fields
“You reprogrammed the low-light GoPro camera’s Simpson left behind the house, right?”
“Yes.”
“After you attached them to the cabin, you tested them to make sure we could see anyone coming from the south, right?”
She nodded again.
“Then we have eyes to the south. My current surveillance system will detect anyone coming from the north, east or west. We’re about as ready as we can be.”
“I am still worried, Michael.”
His mouth twitched. “So am I. But you have to remember, you and I know this land better than he does.”
“What happens when he is gone? What then?”
“We’ll cross that bridge when we get to it.”
She looked into his eyes. “Gerlis will not rest until we are dead.”
“I know.”
Omar Said studied the images provided by Google Earth on a Samsung tablet. The location given to him by the now-dead CIA man proved more difficult to find than he’d first thought. The time approached noon and the cabin, marking the southern boundary of the land he searched for, eluded him. The GPS device he’d purchased was useless as the roads were unmarked and barely passable. Plus, the earth shelter home Simpson mentioned did not appear on any of the satellite pictures from the website.
In addition, the concentration of trees in this part of the world unnerved him. At least in the deserts of the Middle East, you could see your enemy approaching. Here someone could be hiding behind any of them and he would never know until it was too late. Brushing this thought aside, he pressed on looking for the old homestead.
He found it mid-afternoon as dark swirling clouds rolled in from the northwest and a stiff wind rustled the trees. Unused to the sudden weather changes common in Missouri, Omar felt fear and dread, two emotions he seldom experienced. Taking binoculars with him, he skirted the structure and headed for the eastern tree line. This would be a reconnaissance trip to see if he had found the correct location and determine if the individuals he sought were here.
He stayed close to the wooded perimeter, using it as a shield to hide his presence. After treading his way up the gentle incline of the property, he could see it peaked half a kilometer ahead. The land appeared just as the CIA man had depicted, after having three fingers cut off. The fourth finger was removed just to add to the man’s discomfort.
When he approached the peak of the rise, he knelt and crawled to the top. The scene below him was as described. Off in the distance, he could see a large mound of earth out of place in the smooth pasture land. Trees surrounded the mound, assisting its blending into the natural landscape. Bringing the binoculars to his eyes, he surveyed it closer. From this distance, he could see the dark outline of what appeared to be a door located at the bottom center of the mound.
He judged the distance to be another thousand meters down the gently sloping field. After spending almost an hour observing the area and seeing no movement, he crawled back from the peak and stood when out of sight of the home. On his way back to his rented Chevy Equinox, the wind blew harder and thunder rolled across the land. A lightning strike not far from his location startled him as the immediate clap of thunder rattled his senses. A cold heavy rain fell, soaking him immediately. The combination of the thunder and the cold rain produced a reaction his body, so far, had never experienced. He started shivering.
Omar Said, a son of the Iraqi desert, felt out of his element and at a disadvantage. The feeling was followed by a premonition he would never see his homeland again, dangerous thoughts for a man in his line of work.
Chapter 38
Somewhere in Southern Missouri
W olfe sat in front of the desk, studying the figure as it swept by the east side of the old cabin. “All I see him carrying are binoculars.”
“That is all I saw, too.”
He and Nadia were in the office where the large flat-screen security monitor showed multiple views from the various cameras placed strategically around his land. He pointed to the view provided by a camera high in a tree near the peak of the incline south of their home. “There he is, just outside the eastern tree line.”
Nadia bent over to look closer. “Yes.”
The fisheye camera lens distorted the view, but they could discern it was a man walking toward the peak.
She asked, “Can you zoom in?”
“Not with that one.”
She continued to watch as the man crawled to the peak. “He is doing reconnaissance.”
Wolfe nodded. “Smart.”
As she straightened, she put her hands on her hips. “What now?”
“We know he’s here. He doesn’t know we know. Advantage us.”
“For now.”
“Yes, for now. We have to make sure we don’t lose the advantage.”
“How?”
“I’m going out and you need to watch the monitors.”
She tapped her foot. “What if I go out and you watch the monitor?”
He turned to look at her. “Do you know where I placed the traps?”
She shook her head.
“Exactly. That’s why I will be the one outside.”
She closed her eyes and nodded. With a sigh she placed her arms around his shoulders. “I do not want anything to happen to you, Michael Wolfe.”
He patted her hand. “Nothing will. We will be in constant contact with each other. You will tell me where he is at all times.”
They watched the monitor for a few more minutes in silence. He looked up at her. “Why don’t you get some sleep? It could be a long night.”
She shook her head. “I no longer sleep well without you by my side. I will wait.”
A small smile appeared on his lips. “Yeah, me either.”
The storm lasted well into the evening. Wolfe felt it would give him an advantage, but he did not know why. During the initial construction of his house, a deep ditch had been dug from the foundation toward a spot deep within the trees on the east side. Elliptical concrete pipe, wide enough for a man to crawl through, was laid and covered by three feet of dirt. Over the course of living in the house, Wolfe had made various modifications to the tunnel and now used it for egress and ingress from the interior without being seen. One of the modifications was waterproofing the interior with a rubber-based compound. Interior lights were not needed, as Wolfe knew the inside of the pipe as well as he did his home.
Wolfe pushed his Barrett M82A1 sniper rifle ahead of him in the tunnel while he dragged a black backpack behind. The black thermal heat retention underwear, he wore, would help him maintain body heat in the cold rain. The black utility pants, black hiking boots, black long sleeve T-shirt, a black utility vest, black watch cap and black face paint, would make him virtually invisible in the nighttime forest.
Before exiting the tunnel, he did a radio check with Nadia. “I’m about to leave.”
“Be careful.”
He smiled as he opened the exit door disguised as a tree stump. Once outside, he removed his Iris Gen 2+ Dual Tube NV Goggles from the backpack and slipped them over the watch cap. He felt his ankle to make sure his Black Ops Survival Knife was secure. After he secured the back pack on his shoulders, he lowered the NVG over his eyes. As the world took on a greenish hue, he patted his Glock 19 in a hip holster to make sure it had not fallen out in the tunnel. Taking the Barrett in both hands and keeping well within the tree line, he moved toward his rendezvous with El Sombra.
When he reached the highest part of the rise, Nadia’s voice crackled in his earbud. “Michael. He is back.”
Wolfe stopped and swore under his breath. “Damn. Where is he?’
“He just passed the cabin and is heading for the tree line.”
“How’s he dressed?”
“Exactly like you. All black.”
“Could you tell if he has NVGs on?”
“I could not be sure. He was a blur as he passed, but to be safe, assume he does.”
“Don’t worry, I will.” He paused as he s
tood still. “Okay, change in plan. Keep me posted on his position.”
“Be careful.”
Wolfe did not answer as he withdrew farther into the trees and underbrush.
Said’s decision to approach the earth sheltered home after dark was fueled by his earlier unease. In a normal environment, he would wait until the early morning to execute his plan for finding his targets. But the storm, the trees and his subconscious desire to get this task behind him caused him to advance the timetable.
He carried a backpack containing an IED made from common household chemicals, a formula learned during his time with Saddam Hussein’s Red Guard. This would be used to blow open the front door. Then, during the chaos inside from the explosion, he would sweep through the structure, shooting anything that moved. He carried two CZ 75 pistols and multiple spare magazines. The CZs had been purchased from a greedy Texas pawnshop owner whose eyes had grown wide when he saw the stack of one-hundred-dollar bills Said had lain on the glass counter.
It wasn’t his best plan, but it would suffice for the moment.
He entered the tree line, staying close enough to the open field to keep track of where he was in relation to his target. An ancient pair of monocular NVGs adorned his head and allowed him to navigate in the darkness.
As he moved forward, his clothes became soaked from the constant drizzle and residual water left over from the earlier heavy rains. The cold night air penetrated his cotton pants and T-shirt. Halfway up the slope, he started shivering uncontrollably.
After finding a large white oak tree to use as a shield, Wolfe whispered into his radio headset, “Nadia, can you see him?”
“No, he entered the tree line several minutes ago.”
“He’ll stay close to the field.”
“Why?”
“Because he’s unfamiliar with the land. He’ll get lost if he doesn’t. Keep watching.”
“Wait a minute…”
Wolfe stayed silent as he listened.
“I just saw something near the crest of the rise. I’m not sure, but it looked like him. Where are you?”
Wolfe did not answer as he caught a glimpse of movement through his NVGs to his right. As he shifted his position to get a better perspective, he heard another sound; the unmistakable sound of a slide being pulled back on an automatic pistol.
In the quiet of the forest, the following gunshot was deafening. With the sound bouncing off a multitude of trees, the muzzle flash became the only indicator of where the intruder stood. With a practiced move, Wolfe’s Glock was out of its holster and firing less than half a second later.
Quiet returned to the secluded land as both hunters crouched behind cover. Not wishing to be in a standoff, Wolfe darted to his right toward a larger oak, firing his Glock as he ran.
Return fire ricocheted off the tree he just vacated.
A sound to his right caused Omar Said to train his NVGs in its direction. A slight movement was detected deep within the trees. He chambered a round in his CZ and fired. To his surprise, he received return fire and realized, after scrambling to safety behind a tree, he was no longer the hunter, but the hunted.
With this realization, Said pressed his back against a tree. Three more shots rang out as he heard them strike the tree he hid behind. He returned fire four times and ducked back behind the large oak. With his element of surprise gone, he decided his origin plan held no hope for success. With few options available, he unslung his backpack and removed the IED. After placing it on the ground, he set the timer, exited the tree line and ran toward the south.
Wolfe continued this trek away from the original gunfire, moving closer to the open field.
Nadia’s voice came over the radio. “He just appeared out of the trees. He’s running to the south.”
His first thought was why. His answer came three seconds later as an explosion behind him brought trees down and a blinding flash in his NVGs. He flipped them up and ran toward the open field. After exiting the tree line, he lowered the goggles and saw a figure disappear over the rise heading south. He unslung the Barrett and followed.
As he reached the top of the crest, he fell into a prone position, cast aside the NVGs and switched on the night vision scope on his Barrett M82-A1. The figure could be seen running close to the edge of the trees, making a difficult target. Michael took a breath and let it out slowly as the crosshairs of the scope centered on the fleeing figure. Training and experience took over as he applied pressure to the trigger. Once again, the quiet of night was broken with the sound of a rifle shot.
The Barrett sent a .50 BMG bullet into the back of Omar Said. The round shattered numerous spinal vertebrae as it passed through El Sombra’s body. Before exiting, it mangled the right and left ventricle and severed the descending aorta. With a separated spine and a non-functioning heart, the man collapsed forward, sliding on the wet grass for several yards.
A strong wind blew in from the northwest again and rain started to pelt Wolfe as he walked toward the fallen assassin. Flashes of lightning lit the sky and the continuous sound of thunder added to the surreal scene.
He secured the Barrett over his shoulder as he approached and withdrew the Glock from its holster. He trained the pistol on the prone, unmoving man. Kneeling several feet from the figure he waited. In the illumination of a lightning flash, he saw open unseeing eyes.
The intensity of the rain increased as Wolfe knelt next to the figure. He felt no emotions—not relief, pride, contempt or sympathy, only emptiness. As water ran down his face, his mouth twitched as he stood. Weariness swept over him as he walked down the incline toward the cabin and El Sombra’s vehicle.
Chapter 39
Somewhere in Southern Missouri
B y the time the Howell Country Sheriff Harold Bright and EMTs arrived in the field south of Michael Wolfe’s home, the rain had moved on to the east. The clearing sky exposed a full moon which allowed a dim light to the illuminate the scene.
Bright stood several yards from the dead figure as deputies searched the body and EMTs prepared to move it. He turned to Wolfe. “Do you know who he is?”
Wolfe shook his head. “Never seen him before.”
“There’s no ID on him, but there’s a rental agreement in the SUV’s glove box parked by the cabin.”
No comment came from Wolfe.
“Indicated his name was Gregg Simpson. Ever hear that name before?”
As he maintained his neutral expression, Wolfe said. “No.”
“How did you know he was out here?”
“I have security cameras everywhere. Most have low-light capabilities.”
The sheriff nodded. “Where was the explosion?”
Wolfe pointed toward the north. “Just over the rise, inside the tree line.”
“Huh. Wonder what that was about?”
“I believe he was going to try to gain access to the house with it.”
“You think he set it off when you came after him?”
“Don’t know.”
“Well, I think this is a robbery gone bad.”
Wolfe nodded. “That’s what I thought.”
“Hell of a shot in the rain and thunder.”
“I don’t like strangers threatening us.”
The young deputy who had been searching the body stood and walked toward Bright. He held a CZ hand gun by the trigger guard. “Hey Sheriff, this guy’s got two of these on him.”
Bright smiled. “That makes this a righteous shooting, Michael. Maybe they will help us confirm his ID.”
Wolfe knew different, but said, “Let’s hope so.”
After the EMTs took the body, the sheriff and his deputies left with a promise of a thorough investigation of the dead man. Wolfe knew they would never learn his true identity. El Sombra had traveled the world for years without anyone knowing who he really was. But telling the sheriff this did not seem like a good idea. The less said, the better.
Just after four a.m., dead tired and cold, Wolfe stood with his eyes closed under
the shower, letting the scalding hot water careen off his face. He heard the shower door open and felt gentle hands caress his back. Turning, he took Nadia into his arms and embraced her. They stood holding each other for several minutes as the hot water washed the tension from his muscles.
By noon, Michael and Nadia were up and driving to the condo in Branson. He needed quick access to the plane. As they headed west, he made a cell phone call to Joseph. He put it on speaker so Nadia could hear and he waited for it to be answered.
“Good afternoon, Michael.”
“Hello, Joseph. We had a visitor last night.”
“Oh. Anyone I know?”
“Only by reputation.”
There was silence on the phone. Then a cautious, “How did it go?”
“A negative outcome for him.”
“I see. Will he visit again?”
“No.”
“Good. We can discuss it later.”
“Yes. I need a favor, Joseph.”
“Name it.”
“I need to know the location of our visitor’s employer.”
“Do you think that wise?”
“Yes. Ask our friends across the pond. They might know by now.”
“I’ll see what I can do. Where will you be?”
“Ready to move when we know the location.”
“I’ll call you later.”
The call ended and Wolfe glanced at Nadia. She was lost in her own thoughts as she concentrated on the highway in front of them. He reached into an inner pocket of his jacket, withdrew a cell phone and offered it to her.
“What is this?”
“El Sombra’s cell phone.”
She half smiled. “You did not give it to the sheriff? Why?”
“The cell phone will help us more than it will the sheriff. Besides, he will never discover who the dead man really was. His fingerprints will not be on file anywhere. I doubt even the Mossad have them.”
