“What is this smiley?” Rasheed asked as Pete chuckled.
“Never mind. How close are we?”
“Ten minutes,” Rasheed answered.
“I have a plan,” McDaniels announced.
“Oh boy. You mean like the one which made me the Father of a son and my son an orphan in one short hour?”
“Sort of. How’d that work for you, Kay?”
“I cannot complain, Mr. Mountain,” Rasheed admitted. “Proceed.”
“We do a drive by, pausing for Pete to zap the warning bells and whistles. I exit your SUV and quickly get inside to recon the situation.”
“They could have fifty men in there, Colonel,” Donaldson protested, leaning forward in his seat. “At least…”
“Do not excite yourself, young Pete,” Rasheed interrupted. “The Cold Mountain will do what he said no matter what you say. Let us question him as to our part in it before we get there.”
“Sorry, Colonel,” Donaldson said sheepishly. “Go ahead.”
“If you don’t get any word from me within a half hour, park the SUV and come in full bore. If I get into trouble before the half hour is up, I’ll break silence and call you two in. If not, I’ll give you two minutes to get inside and then I’ll let you know where to go.”
McDaniels glanced down at his watch. “I’ve got three thirty-two. Let’s make it three-thirty.”
Donaldson and Rasheed reset their watches to match McDaniels’ mark. They rode the rest of the way in silence, until Rasheed cautioned they were very close in proximity to their target. Donaldson removed the light weapon from his bag, and assembled the remote power pack. Rasheed turned off the SUV’s headlights. He drove slowly around the final block, making sure of the correct address. Rasheed stopped in front of a boxy commercial building with well lighted glass entryway.
“Avert your eyes, boys,” Donaldson warned, as he exited the van and took aim at the front entrance.
The Special Ops man gave the entranceway a thirty second blast which turned the front of the building into a green daylight. He swept the blast beam over the intended target. When Donaldson finished the building was in total darkness. McDaniels tapped him on the shoulder as he streaked across the street to the entrance. Donaldson hopped back into the van with Rasheed.
“Does the Colonel know how to get… ah… forget it,” Donaldson said, as the front entrance door opened.
As Rasheed drove away he answered Donaldson’s unasked question. “Yes, the Cold Mountain knows how to get into anything, including a multitude of trouble. Your light weapon is very impressive. It is not the first time I have been glad I am on your side.”
“We won’t know until later how much damage I caused. The Tech’s all claim to know the parameters of what this can do but I have my doubts. They don’t give you these for your eyes if the damn thing was harmless.”
Donaldson waved the specially shielded goggles he had used when discharging the light weapon. “For all I know, we’re probably all impotent now.”
Rasheed swiveled in surprise towards Donaldson but turned his attention away as the young Special Ops agent smiled back.
“Not funny. I think you Americans make too many jokes at very inappropriate times.”
“Sorry, Kay.”
“Another lie.”
Rasheed circled the block slowly. He parked fifty yards back from the building on his second time around. Both men watched the building tensely in silence. Nearly twenty minutes passed by before they heard McDaniels’ voice in their ears.
“Hi guys, piece of cake. Guess what? They have an emergency conference going right now on the third floor. They didn’t bother with any guards since they had such a great alarm system,” McDaniels whispered. “The first two floors are open showrooms with all kinds of crap displayed. The third floor has a number of open offices. Their meeting room is to your right as you exit the stairwell.”
“How many, Colonel?” Donaldson asked.
“I don’t know. There are no windows and the door is closed. In the couple of minutes I was listening, I heard at least five different voices. I doubt they’re standing around with weapons at the ready. I’m calling you from the stairwell. Come on up. Don’t take the elevator.”
“Great, another comedian,” Rasheed muttered. Where will you be, Cold?”
“I’m going over to listen in. Bring something along so we can tape these guys.”
“I still have a recorder in the back. Tom told me it will pick up anything down to a dropped needle.”
“Good, hurry it up,” McDaniels said, inching out of the stairwell and into the darkened hall.
Rasheed and Donaldson spotted McDaniels listening intently at the door to one of the rooms. All the other office doors were partially open. McDaniels signaled them to come up next to him without turning. Both Rasheed and Donaldson carried MAC10’s, while McDaniels carried a Ruger 9mm.
“There has to be nearly a dozen men in there,” McDaniels whispered as Rasheed set up the recorder he had brought. “I’ve heard Arabic and Russian. Half are in a panic about not hearing from Dillon. Only one guy knows Dillon, and the rest have been trying to get him to tell them who he has on the inside, but he won’t budge. He probably doesn’t trust his compatriots in there to keep their mouths shut.”
“If you’ll keep silent, Mr. Mountain,” Rasheed whispered back, “maybe we can get some of this recorded.”
McDaniels grinned at Rasheed, shaking his head. Donaldson crouched next to Rasheed, gripping his weapon tightly wondering if he would ever be able to make jokes in combat situations. Tensing at the sound of a chair moving, Donaldson decided it was unlikely. The phone rang and one of the Russians answered it in English.
“That is the man who spoke to the woman on the phone,” Rasheed whispered.
The Russian Rasheed spoke of ended the call after a short angry acknowledgement. They heard the man speak fiercely in rapid Russian to one of the other men. McDaniels shook his head at Rasheed and Donaldson with a look of disgust.
“The jig is up,” McDaniels said in a hushed voice, getting to his feet. “He has more than Dillon on the inside somewhere. He just received a report from someone else that Dillon was taken and the men in the warehouse are dead.”
McDaniels silently contemplated their next course of action. The voices inside the room were all speaking angrily in Arabic. Rasheed smiled at Donaldson who had no idea what was being said.
“The Arabs and Chechnyans think the Russians sold out their men in the warehouse,” Rasheed whispered to Donaldson.
“Here they come, boys,” McDaniels said, leaning against the doorway on the left side of the entrance. Rasheed and Donaldson bunched up against the right side. “We need the Russian alive, but it may not be possible. I’m going down the center. Kay to the right, Pete to the left.”
Donaldson and Rasheed nodded their understanding as the office door opened. A tall man with graying hair and mustache walked purposely through the doorway. McDaniels smashed him square in the face with a balled up mallet like fist. The man crashed back into the men following him, blood showering out of the man’s ruined face. He dropped his briefcase. McDaniels fired indiscriminately into the shocked crowd, aiming at their feet and legs. Screaming chaos followed as Rasheed and Donaldson rushed into the room on both sides of the small mob of men. Within minutes of McDaniels’ first attack the eleven men who had been in the room were on the floor of the office in growing puddles of blood. Half of them were wounded. The others had been beaten roughly to the floor either by McDaniels or Donaldson. Rasheed held his MAC10 in a covering motion, ready to kill any who made even the slightest movement toward a weapon.
“Who are you!?” One of the men who had not been wounded screamed at the three. “What…”
McDaniels shot him in the ankle. His victim screamed in pain and rolled up into a fetal position hugging his bleeding leg. McDaniels gestured at the other men with contempt.
“Do not speak unless I ask you something. Get into posi
tions with your hands behind your backs. I don’t give a shit how bad you’re wounded. Do it now!”
The men followed McDaniels’ order, the wounded moaning in pain. McDaniels pulled the man he had just shot up into a sitting position. The terrified man quickly released his injured leg and clasped his hands behind his back. McDaniels smiled at him.
“Tell me which of these men answered the telephone before your meeting broke up.”
The light skinned man with sandy colored hair looked around quickly at his companions. McDaniels smacked him across the face, propelling the already wounded man sideways where his head hit the carpeted floor. McDaniels pulled him into a sitting position again. He jammed his Ruger into the groaning man’s groin area.
“Tell me quickly,” McDaniels whispered.
“There… there!” The man pointed at the unconscious victim of McDaniels first blow at the doorway who had not moved since falling to the floor.
McDaniels stood up. Rasheed handed him a bunch of acrylic cable ties. “Sit still while I fasten your hands together. Move… and my compatriots will blow more holes in you.”
Chapter 29
Information Gathering
Moments later, McDaniels bound the group of wounded and stunned men with their hands behind their backs and ankles together. Only then did McDaniels grab the raggedly breathing unconscious Russian up by his suit coat like a small child. He threw him down roughly into a chair. Donaldson disarmed the rest of the men under Rasheed’s watchful eye. Blood still flowed sluggishly out of the man’s broken nose as air was drawn in by gasps and snorts. McDaniels removed a Glock 9mm handgun from the man’s waistband holster but found no other weapons on him. McDaniels confiscated everything in the man’s pockets before taking out his own cell phone and speed dialing Reskova.
“Is that you Cold?” Relief was evident in her voice.
“I need a team here as soon as possible, Red, including a medical staff. We have eleven guys here. Six of them are wounded. Kay, Pete, and I are fine. Somebody tipped off one of the men we captured that the warehouse gig went south. There’s another insider in this mess.”
“Shit!” Reskova exclaimed angrily. “I am going to have Dino peel that bitch’s…”
“Easy,” McDaniels broke in. “I don’t know if she knows who it is. The Russian boss here seems to know all the pieces to our puzzle. It’s important you don’t send any ACLU types over to pick these guys up.”
Reskova laughed in spite of the grim situation. “I’ll bring Aginson into this right away. He’ll have some recommendations for a cleanup team. I assume you would like these guys to vanish suddenly.”
“That’s a big ten-four. I think we’ve only scratched the surface. After our backup gets here the three of us will be going on a road trip with Boris.”
“Any other remarkable catches?”
“Yes indeed - we have some Middle Eastern dignitaries and reps from Chechnya. The gang’s all here. We’re on the third floor of the building Chet told us about. Have whoever you send come in quietly.”
“Thanks for getting them alive, Cold. I know it was a sacrifice.”
“Why you…” McDaniels began as Reskova ended the call. He shook his head and walked over to the group. Two of the men had either passed out from the pain or from loss of blood.
“Hey, it’s getting quieter over here,” McDaniels observed.
“Please…” the man McDaniels had shot and interrogated pleaded. “I’m bleeding to death.”
“Gee, that’s rough. I have some folks coming to take you all for some medical attention. When they begin questioning you, tell them everything you know because my friends and I are taking your boss here somewhere quiet for a question and answer session. When I get back the story he tells me better match the information you all give out. If not - we’ll be taking the ones whose stories don’t match with us for some clarification.”
“This is Major Rasheed,” McDaniels continued, pointing at a scowling Rasheed. “Having once been a membe of Saddam’s secret police, he knows how to convince unhelpful terrorists to be more forthcoming.”
The captives looked up at Rasheed fearfully, especially the other Middle Eastern men.
“How can you do this?” One of the unwounded Arabs asked. “We are prisoners. We…”
“Quiet!” Rasheed kicked him in the side. “Do not speak unless asked to or you will come along with us now. I will be most happy to question you personally, scum.”
Except for the groans from the wounded men, they all waited in silence. McDaniels bound up some of the more serious wounds with scraps of clothing he tore roughly from the men’s outfits. Rasheed and Donaldson kept watch at the door, taking turns backing up McDaniels with the bound men. Donaldson gestured as a team of black clad armed men rushed into the hallway from the stairwell. Donaldson recognized the leader of the group. He shook hands with him.
“Chris, this is Colonel McDaniels’ man, Kay. Do you have a medical team with you?”
Rasheed shook hands with Chris.
“The medical team is waiting at the elevator. We wanted to make sure everything was okay first.”
“Bring them up and let’s get started.”
Chris turned his head slightly and spoke into his transmitter, giving the order for the medical team to come up. He then followed Donaldson into the room with the rest of his men. McDaniels straightened from where he had been wiping the face of the Russian he had placed in a chair. The Russian was coming to, his head moving from side to side groggily. Donaldson introduced the backup team’s leader. McDaniels indicated the men on the floor he thought were the most seriously wounded.
“I’ll leave you to bring the med team up to speed and get the cleanup organized. We’re taking this man with us for the time being. Make sure these other men do not see or talk to anyone.”
“Yes, Sir. Are you certain you want to do it this way, Colonel? I’m sure our interrogation teams can…”
“We don’t have the time, Chris,” McDaniels interrupted. “We have another mole in the department. I plan on finding out who it is real quick.”
“You mean Dillon’s not the only one?”
“The Russian received a call telling him about the warehouse debacle. I can only vouch for a handful of people who could not be the mole. If the traitor had known about our coming here we would probably be dead. Tell no one of what I’ve told you until I find out who else is in on this with Dillon.”
“You might be able to turn whoever it is into a double, Colonel.”
“My plan is for no one being around for a double agent to communicate with,” McDaniels replied ominously.
Chris laughed, stepped back, and saluted formally. “I will leave you to it then, Colonel. These assholes will be incommunicado until you say otherwise.”
McDaniels returned his salute. “I’ll keep what you suggested in mind, Chris.
McDaniels, Rasheed, and Donaldson sat quietly in the SUV as Rasheed drove. The Russian, all three men now referred to as Boris, groaned almost constantly in the back where he lay bound. The medical team had reset the Russian’s nose and placed a metal guard over it, held in place with an elastic band around his head. An irritated Rasheed looked over at McDaniels after glancing back at the Russian.
“Could we not pull over anywhere for the interrogation? This man is very annoying.”
McDaniels and Donaldson laughed. McDaniels pointed a warning finger at Rasheed. “Enough of that kind of talk, my friend. They’ll be fitting me for a noose over what we are doing. At least let’s take this somewhere quiet.”
“But going back over to the warehouse area?” Rasheed questioned again. “What is that all about? Are there no other nearer quiet places in the state?”
“I have an idea.”
“I do not like it when you say you have an idea,” Rasheed stated, evoking Donaldson’s laughter again.
“I bet they don’t have the mine field all secured yet.”
“Uh oh,” Donaldson muttered as Rasheed b
egan laughing and nodding his head.
“I take it back, Mr. Mountain. If you truly are to do this though, you will need to clear the area of witnesses. We will not be able to proceed with this devil’s work with the area infested with bleeding hearts.”
“Devil’s work?”
“You are an evil man but perhaps you do have your place in this part of the terrorist war,” Rasheed replied. “I am unaccustomed to people sacrificing themselves to make terrorist scum feel better. I will of course visit you in prison.”
“Thanks Kay, I appreciate that.” McDaniels gave Donaldson a light smack on the forehead as Pete rocked back and forth trying not to start howling in laughter. “Pete, I’m beginning to regret taking you with us.”
“I…I…I’m sorry… Colonel,” Donaldson stammered between bouts of laughter.
“Another lie,” Rasheed said simply, setting Donaldson off again. “We must forgive the young man. He is much relieved at not being killed carrying out your attack on the building.”
“How many of the guys do you know aside from your team, Pete?” McDaniels asked, grabbing Donaldson’s ear which did nothing to reduce the young man’s mirth.
“Oh…okay… I…I know almost… all of them, Colonel.”
“Will they leave the area temporarily if you ask them to?” McDaniels released Donaldson’s ear.
Donaldson considered it for a moment and then nodded affirmatively. “Yeah… they would but if…”
Donaldson leaned toward McDaniels in the front passenger seat and whispered the rest of what he had to say. “If Boris blows himself to pieces it will not be something we’ll be able to cover up.”
McDaniels shrugged. “I only need some breathing room without anyone asking too many questions.”
“There may still be people there who are over my pay grade, Colonel.”
“If need be I’ll have Reskova contact Aginson to clear the area. I’d rather not do that if at all possible.”
“Yes, because you believe he will say no,” Rasheed stated.
McDaniels gestured for the conversation to be continued in a hushed manner. “Maybe. As soon as this clown in the back gets a few minutes to think things over I’m betting he’ll start trying to be a tough guy again. He’ll want to start bargaining like his buddy Tomashevsky. If you have a better suggestion spit it out. Pete, can you get me one of those bean bag guns - you know, one that fires something non-lethal?”
Monster Page 30
