The Shiro Project

by David Khara

  “I’m going to scout the area. Wait here,” he ordered, handing the pistol to Elena.

  “Do you trust me, 302?” she asked, sliding her hand over the weapon.

  “I’m not going to waste my energy babysitting you. Either kill me, or do what I say.”

  And with that, he hiked off.

  Elena took out the magazine and checked the contents. Satisfied, she reassembled the weapon and slipped the pistol into her belt.

  “So that’s how secret agents joke around?” Branislav asked hesitantly.

  “What?”

  The woman didn’t seem to understand the question.

  “You call him by a number, not his name. He says he doesn’t have time to babysit you, and he invites you to kill him. Looks to me like you guys have that Odd Couple routine down pat.”

  Elena smiled. Just because she was forced to collaborate with the Israeli agent, she didn’t have to make his life easy.

  “Eytan is not my partner. He’s my guard. We’re not colleagues. We’re enemies. I’ve been assigned to kill him. The number is not any type of ID. It’s his guinea pig number. So that should clear up your little misunderstanding over what we are to each other.”

  “Are you making fun of me?”

  “Does it look like I am?”

  “I can’t tell. By your face, I’d say no, not really, but…”

  Elena was growing tired of the conversation. She turned away from Branislav. “Sit down and shut up before I’m tempted to show you what secret agents really laugh about.”

  Branislav obeyed without objection.

  Some three hundred feet away, Eytan was stretched out on the ground at the edge of the woods and using his binoculars to scope out his objective. The camp appeared to be roughly the size of a soccer field, maybe one hundred and twenty yards long and eighty yards wide. It was surrounded by fire trucks and light tanks and illuminated by a dozen floodlights. An octagonal camouflage tent and three satellite dishes on tripods were in the middle of the field. Cables at the back of the tent were connected to an enormous gray generator on the bed of a white tractor-trailer. Eytan was familiar with this kind of generator. It was designed for specific military purposes. Between the satellite communications system and the energy supply, it was obvious that this big top was serving as the operation’s headquarters. Two military men with machine guns were standing guard.

  Another heavy vehicle was parked about a hundred feet to the right of the camp. It was of no particular interest, but what it was towing attracted the agent’s attention. It looked like a mobile home with four ventilation stacks on the roof. A black door with a translucent window was at the back of the unit. A ramp extended from the door to the ground.

  Just as Eytan was taking a closer look, a thick cloud of vapor rose from the ventilation chambers. Moments later, the door opened, and a woman with curly brown hair emerged. The woman, who was wearing black pants and a white coat, descended the ramp and approached one of the camp guards. He saluted her, and they talked for a couple of minutes. The guard handed her a pack of cigarettes and a lighter. She nodded and walked over to a nearby fire truck. Leaning against it, she lit a cigarette.

  Operation headquarters and a mobile quarantine unit. Bingo! Eytan made a mental note. He left his observation point to return to Elena and Branislav. He found them sitting more than fifty feet apart, looking like well-behaved angels. Almost too well-behaved.

  “Everything all right?”

  “Not a worry in the world,” responded Elena. “Right, Branny?”

  “Yep, just peachy,” the Czech said with a nervous smile.

  “Great. Elena, we’re going to take action. There are about thirty of them, forty at most. And since I didn’t spot any sleeping quarters, it probably won’t be long before our little party clears out.”

  Eytan unzipped the bag to reveal an impressive arsenal: two M14 assault rifles, several Heckler & Koch MP5 submachine guns, two metal cans, and a bunch of magazines.

  “Not very Mossad but still a nice stash,” Elena said.

  “I could have brought an Uzi, a few Desert Eagles, and a Lonely Planet guide to Tel Aviv. Oh, I don’t have any more masks, but I could give you my yarmulke to wear if you’d like.”

  “That’s enough,” she said. He had hit a nerve.

  Meanwhile, Branislav could not take his eyes off the frightening smorgasbord of weaponry spread out before him.

  “Do you always travel with these?” he stammered.

  “Nyet. But because I didn’t know what I’d be up against, I decided to go big or go home. It so happens that I believe I made the right decision.”

  Eytan pulled a small black case out of the bag, opened it, and took out three tiny earpieces. He inserted one in his right ear and held the other two out to Elena and Branislav.

  “They’re already set to a secure frequency.”

  The Czech journalist examined what felt almost weightless and appeared to be a simple earplug. “There’s no microphone,” he said, surprised.

  “No need. It picks up sounds. Its only flaw is a short battery life.”

  “Impressive,” Branislav said.

  “The guys in R&D should be locked up in a loony bin, but I have to admit, they do pretty good work.”

  Eytan turned toward the young man.

  “Branislav, no matter what you hear, stay put, and don’t move a muscle until we return. But if your earbud goes silent, run into the woods and back to your parents’ house as fast as you can.”

  “All right, but do you really think that just the two of you can take on a group of thirty-some military guys?”

  “Yes,” Eytan responded as he slipped the magazines into his jacket pockets. “It’s never the army with the most soldiers that wins, but the side that can outsmart the opponent. I’m sure they’ve jacked up their security in response to the disappearance of those three men who were after you. But believe me, there’s no way they’re anticipating an attack. And besides, even the best-trained soldiers are never fully prepared for the unexpected.”

  “But still, you’re not planning to kill all those men, are you?”

  “After regaling us with your misadventures from yesterday, I’m surprised by your reluctance,” Elena said while attaching an MP5 holster to her thigh. “Did you object when Eytan eliminated those three dudes who were prepared to destroy you?”

  “No, obviously, but that situation was more like legitimate defense,” he said.

  “I see. Mr. Noble has a highly flexible moral code, depending on his self-interest from one moment by the next.”

  Her sarcasm infuriated Branislav. “What the hell is your problem, anyway?”

  Elena started walking in his direction. She looked ready to rip him apart. Eytan abandoned his preparations to address the acrimonious pair.

  “Cut the crap,” he ordered. “Elena, get your equipment. We’re leaving. Now!” He turned to Branislav. “As for you, I thought you had a little maturity. I thought you were better than this.”

  Looking like two scolded children, they both obeyed and silently stepped away from each other. Elena shot Branislav a wicked smile and finished arming up.

  Branislav grabbed Eytan by the sleeve before the giant could join her. “Don’t kill those people,” he said.

  The Kidon agent leaned in, took out his earpiece, and shushed the journalist. “I think you’re a nice guy, but you’re really starting to piss me off. From now until we get back, I want radio silence, unless something happens.” He pulled down Branislav’s mask.

  Branislav held back, sheepish and unsure how he felt about the imminent massacre. He watched as Eytan and Elena headed off to their combat positions.

  When the two of them got to their perch above the camp, they stretched out side by side. The giant handed his binoculars to his fellow assassin.

  “The command tent is our primary target. I’d like to hear your plan.”

  “You’re asking for my input?” Elena replied, clearly surprised.

&nb
sp; “So it would seem.”

  She observed the location’s layout for a good minute.

  “The area is too exposed for a discreet approach. I recommend a frontal attack with heavy weapons, capitalizing on our high position. You enter on the north side so they’re forced to take cover and turn their backs on me. Then I open a second front here, from the south. I shoot at the entrance to the tent to keep them from escaping while you cut the power supply and communications systems. Once the threat is lowered or under control, we enter. How does that sound?”

  “You’ve got it all covered.”

  “What do you plan on doing with that truck on the right? It’s a mobile quarantine unit, meaning it’s heavily reinforced.”

  “That’s not our main objective. I’m not worried about its fortification. I’m more concerned about what’s inside.”

  “Yeah, you’re afraid it’s full of contagious corpses, right?”

  “The ones that are left, yes. I spotted tire tracks that match the tires on the unit here. That means they’ve already loaded some of the bodies and taken them out. There’s no point in taking the risk of going into that quarantine unit. We should be fine with just capturing a doctor or someone in charge of the operation. Open fire on my signal.”

  They looked at each other in agreement. All animosity and mistrust vanished in this acknowledgment of their mutual goal.

  Eytan ran to his combat post a few hundred feet to the north. After placing a metal can and three magazines at his feet, he shouldered his assault rifle, adjusted his advanced combat optical gun sight, and took aim at the satellite dishes next to the command tent.

  “It’s showtime.”

  CHAPTER 17

  Special-forces members Karel and Jan were patrolling the camp with extra caution. After the attack on the village and the disappearance of their three army brothers, extreme vigilance was in order.

  The Czech government was deploying massive measures to cope with the most extreme terrorist threat that the nation had yet encountered. At least all those years of intensive daily training would be put to good use. Up till now, the special forces hadn’t seen much action.

  In the command tent, the tight-lipped higher-ups and military researchers had been assessing the situation and were now getting ready to dismantle the camp. For hours, the two men had been prepared to take on any enemy, but no opponents had presented themselves. They were tired. To keep alert and beat the boredom, Karel, a precision-firing specialist, was enlightening close-combat expert Jan on the many benefits of yoga, particularly its ability to help the practitioner hone his breathing—an essential skill for a sniper.

  A metal clink caught their attention. It was followed by a dozen more. The noise was coming from the satellite dishes. They rushed over to see what was going on. Karel examined one of the dishes. There were impact marks, and the wires leading out from it were letting off sparks. But before he had time to get up and report his findings to Jan, a lieutenant emerged from the tent. He was shouting something about interrupted communications. As the lieutenant approached the two soldiers, the floodlights started shutting off one by one to the sound of shattered glass. They were all out in mere seconds. The men didn’t have time to respond. An enormous explosion came next. It blew a fire truck off the ground in a whirl of apocalyptic flames.

  Karel felt his heart racing and pearls of sweat dripping from his temples. He gripped his gun and tried to channel the breathing exercises taught by his yoga master. As he did this, another fiery explosion ripped through the camp, and he saw a fellow soldier go flying in the air. All around, he heard panicked shouting. Officers were emerging from the tent, only to be hit by bullets. They took several rounds each, and looking like contortionists, they spun in circles before falling to the ground. The invisible assailants were aiming with diabolic precision. The bodies were piling up. Karel and Jan heard frenzied orders, as well as cries for help. Ducking for cover between the generator and the tent, they didn’t know exactly how to respond. Where were the assailants?

  When he heard two more explosions over his shoulder, Karel realized they were being attacked from behind.

  On the hill overlooking the camp, Branislav was appalled and powerless. Tears streamed down his face. Through his earpiece he could hear Eytan’s directions. He was telling Elena where to shoot or toss a grenade and letting her know when he would lob the next explosive. The giant had mercilessly slain the three commandos who had threatened his life the previous day. Branislav had no reason to believe the killer would soften up overnight. But this massacre was too much to take. And there was nothing he could do to stop it.

  Eytan took aim at the satellite dishes, which were defenseless against his precise eye. He pulled out his empty magazine, replaced it on the spot, and focused on the lights to his left. Just before pulling the trigger, he shouted, “She’s all yours, Elena.”

  Elena had been waiting patiently for Eytan’s orders to open fire, and as soon as she was given the go-ahead, she eagerly blasted each and every light.

  “Okay,” Eytan said. “Let’s keep up the pace. Take care of the generator. Then blow up the trucks. I’ll deal with my zone, and afterward, we’ll blast this place to smithereens. Go!”

  A slit in the tent opened, and an officer appeared. Before the entry flap closed again, Eytan spotted the brown-haired woman who had been smoking a cigarette a few minutes earlier. She was now hunched over a laptop.

  At that moment, the electricity went off, thanks to Elena’s aim.

  “Revised plan: blow up the quarantine truck to create a diversion.”

  “There’s no risk?”

  “It’s armored. Aim for the tractor. That’ll do. Now.”

  No sooner had the words come out of his mouth than the deed was done.

  The cab of the truck rose into the air, as if propelled by an invisible force. Seconds later it crashed to the ground, landing on its side with a thunderous boom. The trailer, which the cab had dragged into the air with the force of the explosion, broke free of its hitch and landed nearby.

  Eytan surveyed the back door for a few moments, but no one came out. He continued.

  Karel was watching his world collapse before his eyes. An unstoppable tidal wave of chaos was sweeping through the camp. He tried to calm himself so that he could do something—anything—but it was impossible. Between the endless rounds of gunshots, the wailing victims, and the explosions punctuating the nightmarish darkness, he couldn’t even think. He knew that Jan wasn’t doing any better. His breathing was noisy, and his eyes were filled with terror.

  And yet Jan managed to dart off—so quickly, Karel couldn’t stop him. He was seeking a better refuge, Karel was sure. Another blast went off. Karel covered his head. He was okay. The tent, on the other hand, wasn’t as lucky. It was now full of holes. He would have said it looked like a hunk of Swiss cheese, but that would have been putting the whole grisly scene in a bizarre context.

  Silence. Karel risked assessing the situation. In only a minute—two at the most—his peaceful post had turned into an Armageddon. What was next?

  “What an asshole!” Elena spat as she spotted a runaway and squashed his escape with a bullet to the shoulder.

  “What’s going on?” Branislav asked frantically.

  “You, shut up!” Elena responded.

  “Stop, both of you. Elena, keep your foul mood to yourself. Branislav, stay quiet, and let us do our job. Elena?”

  No response.

  “Elena!” Eytan pressed.

  “I’m here!”

  “We’re going in. We’ll meet at the command post.”

  She strapped her M16 over her shoulder, drew her MP5, and descended to the camp to finish off the scraps, which were a bit too spoiled for her liking.

  Fifteen feet from each other, the two men were exchanging conflicting signals. They were arguing over how to proceed. Karel wanted to lie low until they had a better idea of what was going on. Jan thought it was best to take shelter in one of the trucks t
hat hadn’t been blown up.

  Karel saw a shadow in the distance—the offensive was entering a new phase. He scanned the scene in search of other assailants, but aside from the massive silhouette that appeared to be making huge strides in their direction, he saw no one on the horizon. As the oppressive shape walked by a wounded victim struggling to get up, he stopped and delivered a bullet to his throat.

  Karel hunkered down a few more inches in hopes of remaining unseen. The shadowy figure’s cold and murderous determination enraged the guard. “Shit, if this guy wants a war, he’s got one!” he fumed.

  Now was the time to show off his sniper skills. He craned his neck and spotted the man as he continued to eliminate the wounded, one by one. Karel took a deep breath and adjusted his aim. That bastard was as good as dead.

  “You have no idea how much I’d like to see you do that!”

  He jumped at the sound of the voice coming from behind him. A woman’s voice? Karel’s basic English was limited to simple commands, so he couldn’t grasp the exact meaning of the sentence. He thought it wise to drop his weapon and put his hands in the air. It was a universal symbol.

  “Lie down!” barked the stranger.

  That he understood, and without attempting any heroism, he obeyed before losing consciousness.

  Assuming any movement would lead to his demise, Jan remained motionless on the ground, playing dead. The dampness of the earth penetrated his uniform and chilled his flesh. He caught a glimpse of Karel just as the butt end of a rifle knocked him out cold. Considering the graveyard all around him, it could have been a lot worse.

  Elena and Eytan met in front of the command post, having systematically neutralized the remaining occupants of the now-devastated camp.

  “Cover your eyes!” the Kidon operative ordered.

  Elena obeyed without hesitation. Eytan threw a can, which he had been saving since the start of the operation, into the tent. He turned around and covered his own eyes. There was a flash of blinding light inside the tent.