Day of Mourning te-62

by Don Pendleton

  Miller glanced at the luminous hands of his wrist-watch.

  One more minute.

  Then... attack.

  He focused the infrared binoculars one last time on the farmhouse.

  Except for a few men working on the damaged satellite system, there was no movement. Lighted windows were well draped.

  Miller knew most of the activity was underground. That subterranean section would be the most vital part of this hit... and the most difficult. But once their security force was dealt with, the house could be taken with the firepower his teams would rain down upon it.

  He shifted the binoculars to make a final check uprange, where he could make out the nondescript guardhouse at the main entrance to the Farm, near the northeast corner of the sprawling property.

  The guardhouse did not look fortified, although Miller knew it was. It didn't even look like a guardhouse, but it was manned by a team of crack troops, all heavily armed.

  He could see nothing had changed since the last time he checked the guardhouse several minutes earlier. Security had been beefed up around the farmhouse and perimeter since the soft-probe sabotage, but Miller saw nothing that his team could not handle.

  And Miller would be a rich man.

  Tonight would pay off better than the last two overseas missions Miller had undertaken. And the fact that it was an internal squabble within his country's intel network did not mean a damn thing to Miller.

  He had moved through this maze of spy shenanigans at home and abroad long and hard enough to know that this sort of thing happened now and then.

  Besides, it was as good a way as any of weeding out those not strong enough to survive this kind of work.

  Hell, if tonight's action meant a life of ease in some pleasure-spa with naked babes, good booze and gourmet food, why not?

  Someone had to do it.

  Sure, things would be hot for Al in and around D.C. — things would be hot for him everywhere — after tonight.

  But enough bucks could buy a new face, a new identity, anything... and Miller was being paid more than enough for all that.

  Miller thought about John Phoenix.

  Was Phoenix here at Stony Man Farm at this moment? Not according to Miller's contact inside the Farm.

  Miller knew all about Grover Jones — or whatever the hell Muslim name that jive dude called himself, thought Miller — and he knew Phoenix had evaded the ambush Jones had so sloppily arranged. If Phoenix hadn't killed that uppity bastard, I would've.

  So where was Phoenix right now?

  Miller brushed aside the concern.

  The merc topkick replaced the glasses in the leather case strapped around his neck. He gripped the Uzi in preparation for action at the sounds of Jeffcoat's attack at the airstrip.

  Sprawled on the knoll overlooking the dark Farm, ready for action, Al Miller experienced a sensual anticipation that was almost sexual.

  He would kill people tonight. He would pull the trigger of the Uzi and listen to screams of fear and pleading dissolve as bullets shredded flesh and sprayed brains. Somehow the thought of death weirdly excited him for the woman at the house in Potomac. The bitch. Tied to a chair, waiting to take what he wanted before he quit that house and his country forever.

  Where is Phoenix?

  It didn't matter. Not one goddamn.

  Phoenix was already too late to save Stony Man Farm.

  * * *

  Where is Mack Bolan?

  It meant a lot to April Rose.

  The mission controller of Stony Man Farm sat at the shortwave console of the command center, checking the load and action of her .44 Magnum for at least the tenth time since Bolan had kissed her at the airstrip before Grimaldi airlifted him off into the night.

  April felt the same old concern gnawing her as it always did when her man was in the fire.

  The fact that the fight was so close to home gave the concern a coolness that nibbled at the base of her spine.

  She had relayed Mack's last message to the men of Phoenix Force, who were now in the com-room.

  Yakov Katzenelenbogen and his team hustled out into the night to make last-minute checks and adjustments of the defense perimeter of the Farm.

  Mack's initial assessment of the computer sabotage had been correct, as usual.

  Stony Man Farm was about to be attacked.

  That was something else that made a difference. So many times April sat and waited at this very console, giving Bolan intel support and coordinating the various Stony Man units. Most of the time April was out of action. But not tonight.

  Not tonight.

  She holstered the .44 and swiveled in her chair to face the array of hi-tech electronics just as Katz and David McCarter returned.

  Both Phoenix Force members had procured M-16s to supplement their holstered side arms.

  "Manning and Ohara are beefing up security around the airfield," Yakov told April. "Encizo is covering Kurtzman and his men."

  "Any news from Bear?"

  "A matter of minutes," McCarter reported.

  Yakov set down his rifle and leaned against a nearby wall. He shook a cigarette out of a pack and lit it.

  "That might be too long if Striker is correct about the hit coming down anytime. The hours right before dawn; the best time for a hit."

  McCarter straddled a chair backward.

  "Too bad the patrols we sent out didn't find anything."

  "We couldn't afford to send them too far," Yakov reminded the Briton.

  McCarter's face was taut with the anticipation of violence. "I hate like bloody hell having to sit here waiting for them to hit us. It should bleedin' well be the other way around."

  "That's the way Mack has always felt," April agreed.

  A strong attack is the best defense. Seek out the enemy and hit him first. Hit him when he isn't ready for you. Hit him hard. Hit him again and again. And be as merciless to him as he is to his victims.

  Bolan and Jack Grimaldi, who should have landed at the Stony Man airstrip by now, were late.

  They were late.

  Where is Mack Bolan?

  April Rose had no idea.

  She had a funny thought. I'd rather be right here than anywhere else in the world tonight, except for by his side.

  April had never felt the restless searching that supposedly guides everyone through their twenties, probably due to the same pragmatic nature that guided her to graduate summa cum laude from U of C at Berkeley with a bachelor's degree in electronics engineering and a master's in solid-state physics by the time she was twenty-two.

  Her search had been for a satisfying role through which to channel her knowledge and skills that she hoped, in however small a way, would contribute toward resolving some of the ills of humanity on this mixed-up planet.

  She had not been interested in pursuing the high-fashion modeling career that had paid her way through college, though some of the offers seemed like the moon and the stars.

  She had found her niche when she accepted an appointment with the U.S. Justice Department's Sensitive Operations Group that led directly to her association with Mack Bolan and her present position code-named Stony Man Two.

  At twenty-nine years of age, April Rose was exactly where she wanted to be in her life.

  Even tonight.

  Especially tonight.

  She found her first gray hair two days ago, and it hardly came as a surprise. But the more she put into the Stony Man operation, the more rewarding her life became.

  Especially with a good man named Bolan who somehow seemed to give April everything she needed in every department of their relationship without ever crowding or wanting more than she could give.

  April respected that more than anything else about her man, and she treated him the same way even though it hurt her more than she cared to admit each time her warrior left on another mission.

  April had come a long way since childhood days as a sunshine kid in Modesto. Mom was gone two years now. April always managed to make i
t home to share Christmas and a week every summer with her father, a retired biology teacher. But beyond that her life revolved around the good souls and everything that mattered so much here at the nerve center of Mack's terrorist wars.

  April Rose would go the distance for Mack Bolan.

  Where is he? she wondered.

  Perhaps he's wrong about the attack scheduled for tonight.

  But she didn't think so.

  The door to the communications room opened and Captain Wade strolled in. The security officer ignored Katz and McCarter. He stopped to face April at the console.

  "Yes, Captain?"

  "I've learned that my file has been subjected to a security scan at your request, Miss Rose."

  She reacted coolly to the officer towering above her.

  "That was routine."

  "Routine, shit," growled Wade. "It was done under orders from Colonel Phoenix, wasn't it? That man didn't trust me worth a damn when he eyeballed me awhile ago. I resent that."

  "Maybe you oughta take that up with the colonel, mate," McCarter suggested from across the room. "Give the lady a break, as you lads like to say."

  "You might also try acting like a soldier," Katz put in. "Your place is with your men, Captain. This will go on your record."

  The security officer glared at April.

  "I want an answer."

  April lifted a cautionary hand to the Phoenix Force men.

  "I can handle this, gentlemen." She continued to address Wade. "Colonel Phoenix exercised his prerogative as your commanding officer to rescan your security clearance because of the vital nature of the position you hold. And this man is right, Captain. Your place is out there maintaining the security of this operation. Why are you behaving in this manner?"

  Wade looked contrite.

  "You're right, of course. Excuse me."

  Before Wade could leave the room, a quadrant on an electronic security screen in front of April began to flash frantically, sequenced with an urgent buzzing alarm.

  The perimeter of Stony Man Farm was wired for sound with amplifiers containing filters that screened out every sound except movement and voices. These were magnified more than two hundred times within the sixty-meter range of the devices.

  "It's a hit," grunted Yakov Katzenelenbogen, starting for the door with his M-16.

  "Come on," McCarter growled at Captain Wade as the Briton hustled along with Yakov. "It's time to scrap."

  April Rose unleathered her .44 Magnum.

  This time she was not to check anything; this time she would use it.

  She could not take her eyes off the flashing quadrant on the screen. They're hitting the airfield. Stony Man Farm was under attack!

  18

  "Stony Man Farm is under attack," Hal Brognola informed the president of the United States. "That's what we got before all communication was cut off."

  Brognola, the president and Lee Farnsworth had been joined by Brigadier General James Crawford, retired, for another top-secret Oval Office meeting to discuss the Phoenix situation, which now could only be regarded as critical.

  The president scrutinized Farnsworth.

  "What can you tell us about this, Lee?"

  The CFB boss bristled but held himself in check, considering the source of the question.

  "I assure you, sir, neither the Central Foreign Bureau nor I have anything to do with what is happening at Stony Man Farm tonight."

  "Tell that to the men of Able Team in the goddamn Hindu Kush," Brognola grumbled.

  "Stony Man has been unable to establish communications with those people?" asked the president.

  "Afraid so, sir," Brognola reported. "Their contact point is a connection in New Delhi who monitors our signals. We've been unable to contact our man via satellite, of course, and we can't contact him any other way due to the, uh, highly sensitive nature of his cover. Able Team is still set to hit that fortress of The Dragon. Unless they already have, in which case they're all probably dead."

  "This is hardball, and they struck out," growled Farnsworth. He turned to the president, his tone softening respectfully. "It just shows how in need we are of paring down our clandestine operations."

  The Man glanced at Hal.

  "Is there any indication at all of the source of this attack on the Farm, who is responsible?"

  "We don't know, sir. Colonel Phoenix is pursuing that area."

  "Where is Colonel Phoenix?"

  "Uh, we don't know, sir," Brognola admitted.

  "We're not the only ones who'd like to talk to Colonel Phoenix," said Farnsworth. "The CIA is out for his hide."

  The president sighed.

  "I guess I'd better hear the bloody details."

  "They are bloody, sir. The Company has an all points issued to its field personnel in the area regarding Phoenix. He walked into a setup the CIA had on some Armenian hit men who showed on the scene yesterday. Phoenix apparently figured the Armenians were tied in with this Stony Man thing, or he thought they might be involved and he wanted to confirm or deny. Several people were killed including one agent. His partner, an older man named Gridell, was wounded. The Company says it would not have happened if Phoenix had kept out of their operation."

  General Crawford had listened to all of this without missing a word or inflection. Now he joined the conversation.

  "I've known Phoenix longer than any man in this room. I understand the man. I'm on his side one hundred percent. I, uh, actually have a personal interest in this, believe it or not."

  The general briefly sketched for the others his encounter with Bolan when he brought Kelly Crawford home.

  "I owe the man," the general continued. "But after what happened after he left my home, I must confess the best thing for security purposes would be for the colonel to come in immediately and cease all of this unsanctioned activity."

  "Unsanctioned?" Brognola almost shouted. "Then I say we should damn well sanction it! I've known the man we call Phoenix quite awhile myself, and I know he's never killed anyone who didn't have it coming."

  "I quite agree," nodded Crawford, "but that is immaterial in this case, Hal. I monitor the D.C. police. Of course they haven't put it together yet but the killer of three men in a black bar and at the scene of another homicide crosstown matches Colonel Phoenix to a T. "I have the interests of Stony Man and the CFB in mind, believe me. I helped create both units. Which is why I believe Phoenix must come in. You know the way the media and the eager beavers on the Hill are these days.

  "They practically destroyed the effectiveness of our espionage apparatus during the seventies after Watergate to the point where it's barely been built back up to where it once was. And all of that is being jeopardized by Colonel Phoenix running all over D.C. wasting everyone he comes in contact with. If the local authorities stumble on to this, it's over. The press has the Department better wired than we do. No, I'm sorry, Hal. Phoenix must come in."

  "And what about Stony Man Farm?" Hal asked the president.

  The Man shook his head.

  "I'm sorry, Hal. You're asking the impossible. I can't order troops in to protect an installation that doesn't exist. Neither can anyone else. That has always been the case."

  Brognola was angry enough to yank out a cigar and light it. Fuck the president if he didn't like smokers and there were no ashtrays. The ashes would have to be dropped on the goddamn floor and if they wanted him to leave, he would be damn glad for the fresh air.

  Stony Man Farm.

  Under attack.

  Mack Bolan.

  Out there in the night, and if the Executioner did not obey an order from the Man there would damn well be a liquidation order issued on Phoenix by his own government.

  The men of Able Team.

  Lyons, Schwarz and Blancanales had already bought it, or soon would, because Stony Man could not warn them of a trap set by The Dragon.

  And Hal Brognola.

  Who could not help.

  He had to get to Stony Man Farm as quickly as possib
le. He used a White House phone to call April Rose.

  "April, it's Hal. I'm coming in." That was all he said before he hung up.

  * * *

  Able Team had trudged their way across the unforgiving Himalayan rocks for five hard days, following the directions of a source they were not sure they could trust in the Pakistani frontier settlement of Peshawar.

  Now Able Team was ready to hit.

  The Dragon's lair continued the straight rise of a deep gorge that widened into a craggy valley on either side of the Stony warriors. The men crouched against slablike rock at the base of the gorge several hundred feet below the castle.

  It was midmorning but an earlier reconnaissance gave the three men reason to believe that this place, the wall above the gorge, was the enemy's weakest point since they expected no attack up the face of the gorge.

  The enemy did not know that Carl Lyons had been an avid climber in the Sierra Nevadas. Rosario "Politician" Blancanales and Hermann "Gadgets" Schwarz, the Bolan sidekicks from Nam, had undergone intensive mountain-climbing training during the early days of the Stony Man program.

  And all three men were in excellent physical condition.

  Able Team's scouting trip of The Dragon's castle and terrain also convinced them of the urgency to strike now, daylight or no.

  There had been no sign of activity in or around the castle.

  It was as if The Dragon, whoever the hell he was, had been alerted or had for some other reason pulled his forces out of the area.

  The ancient castle had originally been owned by some long-forgotten warlord. His legacy had found use today at the hands of someone called The Dragon, who trafficked in mass death and destruction for blood money.

  The Dragon had to be taken out. The action was authorized by Stony Man.

  Able Team must penetrate the castle, but they had to confirm that the enemy had fled. If they had pulled out, Able Team would scramble damn fast to pick up any trail The Dragon might have left.

  Each team member was armed with a shoulder-holstered MAC-10 submachine gun and had an M-16 strapped across his back. They were each equipped with climbing picks, ropes and accessories that they unpacked.