Bloodstorm sts-13

by Keith Douglass

  “Looks like that is the direction,” Khai said. The guard pointed the way the trucks had vanished, and they turned and ran that way.

  There were more small gullies and some hills here. Once they climbed up the closest one, they came over the top and stopped.

  Twenty yards in front of them stood a soldier with an automatic rifle aimed at the three of them.

  20

  “Halt,” the Afghan soldier barked. “Do not move. Hands up. What are you doing here?”

  “Frankly, we’re lost,” the local man, Syed, said. “We strayed off the road chasing a snake, and now we don’t know where the hell we are. Can you help us?”

  They waited. The soldier looked confused.

  “I heard no vehicle. You didn’t walk here twenty miles.”

  “Decoy him,” Franklin whispered to Khai.

  Syed waved. “Hey, soldier. We did drive in. Right over there behind that little dune. Our car. See it?”

  Syed pointed and took several steps to the side. The soldier turned that way, confusion showing on his face.

  “Hey, I said don’t move,” the soldier yelled. He looked at Khai, and in that instant, Franklin surged forward. By the time the soldier saw his mistake and tried to swing his rifle back to cover Franklin, the SEAL was on top of him, smashing him to the ground, jolting the rifle from his grasp. Franklin’s hands went around the man’s throat stifling his scream.

  “Why are you on guard here?” Syed shouted at the man. He had come up and knelt in the dirt and sand beside the downed soldier.

  “Orders. The captain told me to watch this area.”

  “Are there other guards along here?”

  “For a mile or two, then the road leads to the caves.”

  “How many soldiers?”

  “Fifty.”

  “What are you guarding?”

  “They didn’t tell us. Just said do it.”

  “Are there any scientists inside the caves?”

  “Yes, but they don’t tell us what they are doing.”

  “How far to the caves?”

  “Two miles. There are guards all along the track of a road in the sand.”

  “Did trucks go in and come out?”

  “Yes, at first. Now only the scientists, who go back to some town for the night.”

  “Is Osama bin Laden at the caves?”

  The guard snorted. “No, he is an enemy of the state. He would not be here.”

  “That is what your officers have told you?”

  “Yes, of course. They tell us what is important to know.”

  “Do you know anything more about the caves or what the truck brought in?”

  “I know nothing of the caves.”

  “Then we don’t need you anymore.”

  Before Franklin saw the intent, Syed drove a slender six-inch blade into the soldier’s heart. His eyes glazed for a moment, then went wide. He tried to scream, but by then the nerve endings were collapsing. His heart stopped beating, and soon all nerve synapses ceased to function.

  Franklin nodded. “Yes, now let’s bury him somewhere out of sight. At least cover him up. He’ll be missed on guard check. We need to get closer to those caves.” Franklin had been surprised by Syed’s move. But it was all they could do. No way the soldier could be tied up and left. He couldn’t be a prisoner. He simply had to die.

  Khai knelt beside the others. “How close are we to the caves? Sounds like they have a lot of firepower against our one rifle and forty rounds.” Khai had stripped the ammo pouches from the soldier, and checked the magazines for the AK-74, the newer version of the old Kalashnikov rifle.

  “All we have to do today is to get close enough to evaluate their guard force, check for a quick way into the cave, and figure out if we two can do the job or if we call in more of our men,” said Franklin.

  “Wish we had the Bull Pup and those twenty-mike-mike rounds,” Khai said. “We could blow everybody up on the outside, put a dozen exploding rounds inside, and then mop up and blow the damn warhead and be out of this rat hole.”

  “Coulda, woulda, bubba. We don’t got them, so let’s move on up and see what we can find.”

  Franklin angled them a quarter mile away from the track of a road to the north here, and kept a close watch for more guards. They spotted them every half mile, but had no trouble going around them at that distance.

  Another twenty minutes of hiking, and they came to a slight rise. They bellied down and looked over the top. Below them, less than a mile away, was a small valley with a gleam of water from a stream. On the far side of the water they could see the black holes in the side of the cliffs that must be caves. In front of two of them were freshly erected combat wire fences. These antipersonnel fences were usually about three feet high in the center, and had series of laterals out six or seven feet on both sides. Hard to jump, impossible to crawl under, and tough to walk through.

  Near the two active caves sat a truck that looked like it had the old quad-fifty machine guns mounted on it. In back of the quads and the fence were what looked at that distance to be a series of trenches connecting well-placed foxholes.

  Khai snorted. “Hell, Franklin. We can take down those guys, get inside, and blow up the damn warhead without any help. Just you and me.”

  “Sure we can,” Franklin said. He lay there wishing he’d brought some paper and a ballpoint pen. He stared at the layout again, memorizing it, then bellied back from the top of the rise, and they all began walking back to their pickup point. Khai carried the AK-74 and the ammo.

  Again they circled around each spot where the Afghans had placed a guard. If they made it out of the area before the dead guard was missed, they would be lucky.

  No such luck, Franklin decided as he lay in a small gully and looked over the top. It was about where they had killed the guard that he saw the truck stop. Twenty men poured out of it, ten moving to each side of the road and extending out thirty to forty yards apart so they covered more than a quarter of a mile on each side of the road.

  A series of whistles sounded, and the troops began to work slowly toward the caves and directly at Franklin and his two men.

  “Still a thousand yards away,” Khai said. “We outflank them?”

  “All we can do,” Franklin said. “And fast.”

  They turned at right angles to the approaching soldiers and ran along a ten-foot-deep gully until it gave out, then found a new one in the same general direction and ran again. By the time the second wadi ended, Franklin figured they had covered more than a mile. They dropped flat on the ground and watched the closest of the pickets walk past them. He was a hundred yards away and when they stretched out in the gully, he had no chance to see them.

  They waited twenty minutes, then continued their movement parallel to the road. Much later they went around the roadblock, and then angled more toward the road itself.

  “Car coming,” Khai said as he looked down the road. They were two miles from the roadblock by that time, and ran for the road. They made it before the car arrived, and sat down waiting for it.

  Jeru was curious, and asked them exactly what happened as soon as they loaded into the car.

  Franklin told her, and she made some notes in a small pad she carried.

  “I was so worried about you three. I usually don’t get this involved in the fieldwork. Now I know why. I was so nervous before back there that we had to stop the car so I could throw up. Honestly. Now. What do we do about contacting your people?”

  “You have some communications with the CIA?” Franklin asked.

  “Back in Kabul at my office.”

  “Then that’s where we go. On the trip we can figure out how we take down those caves. Not much doubt that they have something highly important in there, and I can’t think of what it would be except the warhead. We get some help and we take out the problem.”

  They stopped at their safe house in Khowst, where the women had a large meal for them. They served meat, fish, some kind of pasta, and three bowl
s of fruit, as well as three kinds of breads and dipping sauces.

  They rested during the hot time of the day, then began their trip back to Kabul at dusk. They left Syed in the safe house, and their regular driver took the wheel for the return trip.

  It was a little past 2100 when they arrived at Jeru’s apartment. On the drive, Franklin and Khai had talked about the mission. They had at last come up with the size of the force they needed.

  “The whole platoon with all of our regular weapons would be good, but not a chance we can get all the weapons and men into the country without attracting a lot of attention,” Franklin told Jeru. “If we parachute in, how do we get out? If we come in by commercial air, there is a good chance we can get out the same way. We’ve decided that we need our first squad. Their eight men and Khai and me make ten. We should be able to do the job.”

  “Only ten, against fifty?” Jeru asked.

  “Better odds than we usually get,” Khai said. “Now, what about guns? We want them to bring in two Bull Pups with the twenty-mike-mike rounds. They should be able to break down the weapon into parts and put part of it in each of four checked bags. There wasn’t any X-ray check of bags as we came in. Is that the usual system?”

  “Usually. They do spot checks sometimes, or tougher examinations on luggage if they have any suspicions.”

  Franklin touched the CIA contact’s shoulder. “Jeru, can you get the rest of the weapons we need? We’ll want two sniper rifles with sound suppressors on them, six or seven submachine guns, and plenty of ammo.”

  “Around here that’s enough firepower to start a coup. Yes, I can get them for you, but it will take two or three days. How soon can your eight men get here?”

  “Papers and documents will be the slow part,” Franklin said. “My guess would be at least three days.”

  “I have a SATCOM radio to my CIA contact. Your people in Athens should have the message within two hours after I send it. E-mail would be faster, but I don’t have anyone’s E-mail address in your Athens group.”

  “What do we do in the meantime?” Franklin asked.

  “After I send the messages, you can help me shop for food. Somebody has to feed all of these people.” She smiled. “Maybe tonight we can think of something else to do.”

  Franklin grinned at the double meaning. She smiled back.

  “Yeah, maybe tonight,” he said. “In that message you tell my CO exactly what we need. Alpha Squad and the two Bull Pups and ammo broken down and hidden in luggage.”

  She sent it exactly that way. It went through the crypto in the SATCOM and shot out in a burst of less than a second. Then into the voids of space and satellites.

  They had an answer back in two hours.

  “Evaluating your plan. Would come in over two days two by two. Alpha Squad seems right. What will the odds be? Hang tough and prepare the runway for us.” The message was signed “Murdock.”

  That night after the meal, Khai left the group, saying he wanted to catch up on some sleep. Jeru’s driver and the cook both checked out for the night. They didn’t live in. Jeru turned to Franklin and frowned.

  “Will your CO go along with your plan?”

  “He will. It’s all he has to work with, and my logic is brilliant.”

  “So it might be two or three days.”

  “Or four. They have to get papers for eight more men, and clothes and probably a haircut or two.”

  “So, we have lots of time. Tomorrow I’ll start getting the weapons we’ll need. Tonight we don’t have to worry about that. Tell me about yourself. Where did you grow up?”

  “Nebraska. York, Nebraska. Where the wind blows every day of the year. Where we had twelve feet of snow one winter. The next summer it was over a hundred degrees for ten days in a row and killed a forty-million-dollar corn crop. Then some years it really was tough.”

  They talked for an hour. Then she caught his hand, lifted him to his feet, and led him to her bedroom. She closed the door, and caught his face and kissed him roughly.

  “Now, let me tell you about where I grew up and how I learned to make love in the most interesting ways.” She smiled in the soft light of the single lamp. “No, I can’t tell you. Why don’t I show you, give you a complete demonstration.”

  She did.

  With breakfast came a message on the SATCOM.

  “Your basic plan looks good. Now in process of getting eight men ready to arrive Kabul by commercial air. Will advise date and time of arrival. No chance we can get two Bull Pups through. There are other customs besides Afghanistan. Believe we can get one broken down into enough components and mixed with other parts of a machine that we can get past. Refine your battle plan with one Bull Pup.” It was signed “Murdock.”

  “So far, so good,” Franklin said. He frowned as Jeru gasped when she saw a man walking up to the front door.

  “Who is it?” Franklin asked.

  “Quick, get into the kitchen. Don’t make a sound. The man at the front door is with the Secret Police. He comes now and then to check on me. But so far it’s been just a friendly hello and to let me know that they are watching me. It must be nothing or there would be two of them.” Again she had dressed as a man.

  Franklin hurried into the kitchen and left the door open a narrow crack so he could see. Nothing. Sure. Secret Police always meant trouble. He couldn’t allow anything to disrupt their plans now. He picked up a butcher knife from the counter and held it as he watched through the door. Nothing was going to interfere with their plans for destroying the warhead. Nothing.

  21

  Franklin watched through the narrow space past the inside door as Jeru opened the outer one. He heard the words but didn’t understand them. Franklin watched Jeru reluctantly step back and let the man come in. He was darker than Jeru and had black hair and a full beard. Jeru had dressed in her man’s clothes, and with her short hair, horn rimmed glasses, and loose shirt passed easily as a man.

  “I see that you are still unemployed.”

  “I have my travel agency.”

  “But not enough business to make a living.”

  “I have an inheritance from my late father.”

  “I don’t know your father. He must have been wealthy.”

  “Of modest means, but thrifty. What do you want?”

  “Just a regular visit. You sometimes have foreign customers. We are curious.”

  “Yet you encourage tourists.”

  “Only when they bring lots of money.”

  “Can I arrange a trip for you somewhere?”

  “I am a working man.”

  “So am I.”

  “You look nervous today, should I be concerned?”

  “Only if you are worried about my missing an appointment that could lead to a good customer for me. A merchant who does considerable traveling.”

  The man frowned, then laughed. “You are trying to get me to leave. Perhaps I should search your apartment?”

  “Anytime, just don’t touch anything.”

  They stared at each other, both grim faced. At last the bearded man nodded. “No, I won’t look today, but we are watching you. If we have any suspicions we will simply eliminate you. Remember that.” He turned, opened the door, and left.

  Franklin rushed through the door and stood in front of her. She fell against him and he held her.

  “He is an evil man. He doesn’t like me, and hopes he can close down my business or simply shoot me.”

  “Maybe it’s time you came in, quit this dangerous business. How long have you been with the Company?”

  “Almost four years.”

  “When this is over, you should get away. The regime will make a lot of heads roll if we’re successful. Yours could be one. Do you have identification papers in another name?”

  She shook her head. “How can I leave my home, my country?”

  “It’s easy to decide if you face a firing squad if you stay. We’ll talk more about it. Today you said we’d find some submachine guns.”

/>   “Give me a minute, and hold me tight. I need to forget about that terrible man.”

  He held her, and gradually her breathing slowed and she relaxed. She moved and came away from him, then bent back and kissed him lightly on the lips.

  Jeru sighed. “Sometimes I want to forget all of this and travel somewhere so I can sit by the sea and drink a fine wine, and let the soft breezes billow over me. Then I go swimming in the warm water and I’ll have no agenda, no worries, no danger.”

  “This will be your last mission. You’ll come out with us. What you need are new identity papers. We’ll change your look. We’ll get you out. Now, let’s concentrate on getting the weapons.”

  Jeru drove, and took only Franklin with her. They went to a shopping district, parked, and went inside a big store. Quickly she led him out the side entrance into a cab. They changed cabs twice.

  “I must be certain none of the regime has followed us,” she said. They walked two blocks in a part of town that would make Franklin nervous even if he had all of his weapons.

  They went into a small corner store that sold a few food things and some clothing. A mom-and-pop-type place. The woman inside smiled at Jeru, and watched the front while Jeru and Franklin went through a beaded door and into a back room. From there Jeru led him down a series of steps, then along a tunnel he figured ran under the street, then back up steps to a third floor room where a man sat smoking a water pipe.

  Franklin sniffed the smoke that layered heavily in the room. The man was on heroin. He didn’t seem to notice them enter. Jeru reached out, gently removed the pipe from his mouth, and talked to him in gentle tones. Franklin couldn’t catch what she said.

  The man laughed softly. Franklin guessed he was in his seventies, with deep sunken eyes, cheekbones prominent under soft leather skin. His eyes were black marbles. He lounged on a recliner chair fully extended, and even in the warm weather had a blanket draped over his body. One bony hand came out and touched fingers with Jeru.