Though he might seem quiet, Sutter knew that Eartzie was as dangerous a man as he’d ever dealt with. Possibly more so than most, since he was a bomb maker of unparalleled skill. And while Sutter was accustomed to dealing with deviant and dangerous men, the prospect of telling Eartzie that he would not have his prize left him more than a little apprehensive.
Frustrated and looking for an excuse to put off what he knew would be a very one-sided conversation, Sutter turned his attention to Cyrus. The young man was perhaps the greatest disappointment of all. Though he was always suspicious of new faces, Sutter had to admit that the kid had quickly found a place on his crew. He was young, capable, and smarter than his best four men put together. In so many ways he was the ideal new recruit, and Sutter had envisioned a bright future for him in his organization. Sadly, that wasn’t to be. Arranging the sale of the thermobaric compound was Cyrus’s big break, and it had fallen apart.
As much as he liked the kid, Sutter knew he couldn’t let such a major slight stand. He would make an example of him. It was just good business… And if the gesture placated the mad bomber? Sutter figured he might sleep better at night, literally, not having to worry about a bomb having been hidden beneath his bunk for retribution.
Pulling the radio from his belt, Sutter took a deep breath and steeled himself. “Eartzie, can I have a word?”
Sutter watched the small bomb maker from across the hangar. Eartzie continued to stare at the wall without movement. As far as Sutter could tell, there was nothing there for him to see. “Eartzie, come in?”
There was still no response. No movement at all. It was chilling, and it made Sutter regret what he had to say even more. Still, there was no more time to waste. With a roll of his eye, Sutter brought his fingers to his lips and produced an ear piercing whistle that echoed through the open space. A half dozen of the men still working around the base of the aircraft staircase turned instantly. Sutter paid them no attention. After what seemed like several endless seconds, Eartzie pried his gaze from the wall and slowly turned in Sutter’s direction. Gritting his teeth, Sutter waved him over.
The short balding man took his time, walking slowly across the center of the hangar. There was an odd manner to his gait, Sutter noticed. His legs moved with each step but his arms never swung to keep pace. Sutter swallowed hard and looked quickly back at Cyrus who simply shrugged as if to say, I told you so.
Sutter examined Eartzie’s expression and found what he might call expectant eyes. It was hard to tell under the man’s pale, bland veneer. “I’m afraid the deal has fallen through, my friend,” Sutter said in a dry voice.
Eartzie stood silently, his gaze never leaving Sutter.
“I’m sorry for the loss of your prize,” Sutter offered. “But you have my word, I will make it up to you. I’ll find another source for the explosive.” His focus settled on Cyrus. “And this one will pay for your disappointment,” he promised.
After seeming to take a moment to consider the statement, Eartzie also moved his attention to Cyrus. Several silent seconds followed before he finally nodded in agreement. “Disappointment hardly seems a strong enough word. I had a new design in mind… Something truly exceptional.”
The small man stopped, looking lost in thought for a moment before a crooked smile crossed his face. “Still,” he continued, “it will be extraordinary. I think it can wait just a short time more.”
The bomber seemed lost in his own mind again, perhaps enjoying some twisted amusement that only he could understand. Whatever mental imagery he’d conjured was clearly bringing far too much pleasure, and that brought a cold sense of dread to Sutter. The guy was a box of broken marbles. The idea of finding a bomb beneath his bunk suddenly seemed so much more plausible.
“Eartzie,” Sutter said, with some trepidation. Eartzie was standing stock-still with a smile on his lips and a blank look in his eyes. Sutter felt the contents of his stomach churn as he realized that Eartzie was still enjoying whatever loony-tune amusement he’d conceived amidst their conversation.
“Eartzie!” Sutter repeated.
At this, Eartzie slipped from his delusion as smoothly as he’d transitioned into it. He looked at Sutter as if this sort of thing happened to everyone.
Sutter swallowed hard and tried not to show his growing discomfort. “Please arm the perimeter explosives,” he managed. “It’s time to leave.”
This brought a slight nod from the small man.
Rolling back his left sleeve, Eartzie revealed a small touch-screen display. It was about three inches wide, two inches tall, and strapped to the inside of his wrist. He tapped a numeric code into the screen and the display changed to show a bank of tiny green dots.
Though Eartzie had never explained the device to him, Sutter was fairly certain he understood what he was seeing. The screen displayed approximately a dozen green markers. If his guess was right, each represented a separate explosive that was planted somewhere in the hangar.
He’s been busy.
Dragging a finger across the screen, Eartzie moved a virtual slider from one position to the next. Sutter couldn’t be sure what the control did, but it seemed fairly obvious when the green dots instantly turned red.
He’d armed the devices.
His eyebrows furrowing, Eartzie brought the wrist-mounted display closer to his face and squinted. The concern wasn’t lost on Sutter. “What is it?” he asked. Moving closer to Eartzie, he tried to get a better look for himself.
After a few seconds spent staring at the display, Eartzie finally lowered his arm and directed his attention toward Sutter. “I’m not sure,” he said. “One of my devices didn’t arm properly.” Without further explanation, the bomber turned on his heel and stalked off into the distance.
“He’s not the cat with the sharpest claws,” Cyrus chided.
This brought Sutter’s attention back around on Cyrus. He looked at him for a long moment, and then glanced over his shoulder to confirm that Eartzie was still walking away. “He may be a little…eccentric…but he’s the best in the business.”
Though his words were confident, they lacked conviction. Even Sutter heard it this time.
“Are you kidding me? He plays with bombs for fun. Now he’s even slipping at that. There’s what, a dozen charges scattered around this place? And out of twelve, he messed up one? I don’t know about you, but I don’t like those odds. Are you sure you want this guy building you a bomb?”
Opening his mouth to speak, Sutter stopped short. He wasn’t entirely sure what to say. After all, it was a fair point.
————
Kingston Waterfront
11:06 pm
“Polecat, this is Command. Do you read?”
Boone shot a look to Stubbs. He stood thirty feet away with his rifle at his shoulder, scanning the darkness for additional dangers. Stubbs shook his head, likely in irritation. His COMMs were finally back online, as well.
“What the hell is going on?” Boone growled into his microphone. “Where have you been?”
“Some kind of broad spectrum interference tanked our relay,” the technician at Command explained. “Someone is using some kind of selective frequency jammer. I switched over to a modulating encryption over an out-of-band-carrier—”
“Cut to the chase. Are COMMs reliable, or not?”
“Affirmative.”
Boone cursed under his breath. “Overwatch, come in?”
“I’m here, sir.”
“The package is out of pocket. What can you tell me?” Boone’s tone was calm and professional, but he was seething inside.
“Kang and two of his men moved south following the coast. Team Two was in pursuit. I lost sight of them once they reached the tree line. It’s unclear from my vantage, but it looks like Team Three is out of commission.”
Boone now had his hands full as the mission spun out of control. “Understood, Overwatch. Control, I need medics on site. I have one casualty, one missing, and one in need of immediate medical EVAC. Tea
m Two, come in?”
Silence came from the communications channel.
“Team Two, does anyone read me?” Boone persisted.
The voice of the technician back at base filled the silent channel. “Wait one, Polecat. Let me open up the spectrum range a little wider. Team Two must have moved outside of the hundred-yard perimeter Overwatch is targeting with the uplink. I should be able to blanket your general vicinity now that I know what I’m dealing with.”
“—anyone there?” another voice cut in a second later.
“This is Polecat, Team Two. COMMs have been restored. Give me a sit-rep.”
“Target set off a charge on the beach and took out Team Three, as well as a bunch of his own men. He used the detonation as cover to escape south. We’re tracking him now.”
“Understood. Activate your locator. I’m on my way to you.”
“Roger.”
“Polecat, this is Command. Emergency medical is en route from fallback perimeter. ETA is three minutes.”
“Understood,” Boone confirmed.
Boone looked at Stubbs. “You’re staying with Hobbs. Higgs is still missing. EVAC Hobbs and pull out once you’ve located Higgs. I’m with Team Two.”
Stubbs responded over his shoulder without shifting his watchful eye from the darkness to their back. “Roger that.”
Pulling a small display from his pocket, Boone saw a light indicating the position of Team Two several hundred yards to the south. Assessing the proper bearing, he took off in a sprint.
He radioed Team Two as he drew near. Sneaking up on armed soldiers was never a good idea, and Boone was moving too quickly to approach with a high level of stealth. As he closed in on Team Two, he picked up the distinctive mark of tire treads in his night vision glasses. The path snaked through the loose scattering of trees, but it was easy to follow in the shallow blanket of sand that clung to everything. Kang must’ve had several ATVs stashed at the tree line as part of some contingency plan. If that were the case, it meant that he had a full-fledged escape route set ahead of time.
Kang had a leg up on them.
Boone found Team Two gathered in a small clearing. One of the men was on his hands and knees working on something, while the remaining two had their backs to him and scanned the perimeter for ambush. Three large four-wheel-drive ATVs sat a dozen yards away, their mufflers ticking as they cooled in the night air. It confirmed Boone’s suspicion regarding Kang’s rapid escape.
“Report,” Boone said as he joined the group. Even after running several hundred yards through the woods, he was barely breathing hard.
The man who was on his hands and knees was hovering at the edge of a large concrete ring set in the dirt at the center of the clearing. He looked up at Boone. “Kang and two of his men ducked in here,” he said, pointing to the hatch in the center of the concrete ring. “We arrived just in time to see Kang drop through here, but the damn thing’s rigged. I’m trying to figure it out now. I’ll have it disabled in a minute, sir.”
Boone considered all that had happened so far. Kang had been fully prepared for their ambush. Every second they lost was an opportunity for Kang to make good on his escape. The steel hatch lid wasn’t locked. Agent Ryan had it pulled open about an inch and was working a pen light and a small mirror beneath it. They were wasting time examining the booby-trap.
Working while he talked, Boone pulled a small wad of C4 from the webbing of his combat harness and stuck a wireless detonator into the soft plastic explosive. He waved Ryan away and stuck the C4 into the gap Ryan had created. .
“Control,” Boone said. “I need to know where this tunnel goes.”
“Understood,” Control responded. “The tunnel doesn’t appear on any of the waterfront plans. We’re trying to sort that out right now.”
Boone gnashed his teeth. “Make it fast. Our target is making us look bad.”
The three members of Team Two had joined Boone and moved away from the surface hatch. Without a word, Boone raised the handheld detonator and hit the trigger. When the C4 flared, it sent the steel hatch flying from its hinges and winging off into the night. The detonation fractured the wide concrete ring surrounding the portal and it started to crumble. A second later, a massive fireball leapt from the mouth of the tunnel, shooting like a geyser into the sky. Fist sized flaming splatters of gelatinous fluid rained down around Boone and his men.
“Holy shit,” Jenson gasped. “That’s napalm. Kang is one vindictive sonofabitch!”
It was some kind of napalm hybrid, Boone realized. It had been mixed with a thick viscous gel to increase its lethality. The bomb would’ve been enough to stop whoever tried to follow. But the napalm charge was designed to burn the human body with a fire that was damn near impossible to extinguish. If the bomb didn’t kill them, even the slightest kiss from that napalm charge would put anyone down.
“God dammit, Control, I need to know where this tunnel leads!” Boone spat. He was standing at the edge of a gaping hole in the earth. Beneath his feet was a wide, concrete-lined tunnel that ran north and south. Not only was the hatch gone, but its surrounding ring had disintegrated in the pair of explosions as well. The hole he was looking into was at least eight feet in diameter.
Boone relayed the lay of the land back to Control. “This looks like a sewer system,” he explained. It’s a concrete-lined pipe about twelve feet wide running north and south along the coast. I need to know where it comes out.”
“That’s an affirmative,” Control responded. “It’s a storm water run-off system that was installed twelve years ago. Someone wiped the information from the digital records. It looks like your friend Kang is more resourceful than we gave him credit for. He must’ve deleted the digital files in preparation for this operation.”
Grinding his teeth once more, Boone walked away from the gaping hole. “Stow the commentary, Control. I just need to know if he went north or south. I’m pretty sure he had a couple of ATV’s down in the tunnel, and that means he’s moving fast—whichever way he’s going.”
“This is Overwatch. How sure are you about those ATV’s, Polecat?”
Boone looked down at the ATV he was currently sitting on. “Pretty damn, why?”
When Overwatch came back, Boone realized for the first time just how out of breath Helinger sounded. “Base transmitted me a schematic of the storm system you’re accessing. I just popped a lid in the middle of the wharf and, other than standing in a foot of water, it’s quiet over here. Either the target has come and gone, or—”
“Or he’s gone north,” Boone cut in. “Roger that, Overwatch. Scout the area. I’m sending Jenson your way, just to cover our bases. Command, I want teams moving on any location Kang could use to surface north of my position. Murphy and Stubbs are with me in pursuit. ”
“Are you sure that’s a good idea, Polecat?” Command responded. “If you’re right and they have ATV’s, you’ll never catch them.”
Looking to Jenson for the all clear, Boone triggered the electric start on the 750cc Honda 4x4 that Kang had used to travel from the ambush point to the tunnel entrance. Jenson had already removed the simple booby-trap charge on each of the three machines. He had also done a quick job on the electrical system to bypass the starter lock.
The idea of Command second-guessing him didn’t sit well with Boone. He would have a talk with the mission controller once the operation was complete. “I’ve got that covered,” he mumbled and feathered the throttle. Dropping the transmission in gear, his thumb goosed the throttle and the machine lurched forward. With a click of his left toe, he shifted into second and then third, accelerating as quickly as the machine could operate. The engine roared as he opened the throttle fully just before reaching the lip of the hole in the center of the clearing. The front end of the heavy machine lifted by only a small degree before the ATV plummeted into the darkness below.
Chapter 4
Kingston Waterfront
11:13 pm
Kyle Murphy was Team Two’s demoliti
ons expert, and even he’d been impressed by Greg Boone’s efficiency in disabling the booby-trap at the mouth of the underground tunnel. The use of the explosive charge had not only disabled the trap left by Kang, but it had cleared the way for their team to enter on the discarded ATVs. There was a potential added bonus—if Kang heard the explosion, he would expect his trap to have claimed the lives of at least some of his pursuers.
The three ATVs rocketed through the wide underground tunnel in single file. Boone led the charge with Murphy in the second position, and Robert Ryan bringing up the rear. They were making good time. Boone set an aggressive pace, his 4x4 driving hard against the nearly two-foot deep stagnant water that blanketed the bottom of the tunnel. They were driving with their headlights extinguished being that their night vision glasses afforded a superior view. The heavy all-terrain vehicles were powered by beefy four-stroke motors that were quiet under normal circumstances, but given the cramped acoustic confines of the underground environment, the engines sounded like stock car engines.
There was an inherent danger to this plan, Murphy knew. They were sacrificing stealth for speed, plus the tunnel constituted one massive choke point. Odds were good that they wouldn’t catch Kang by surprise. Murphy knew that he, Boone, and Ryan would be sitting ducks if they couldn’t subdue Kang and his two men with utmost efficiency. His ATV jolted as it crushed some unseen debris beneath the water. He felt the rifle strapped to his back shift, as he leaned to the left and corrected the slight skid of the machine. At least he had the rifle and the SIG strapped to his hip. Murphy only wished there was something they could do about the noise they were making.
Boone’s left hand rose into the air and closed into a fist. Murphy noticed instantly as the speed of Boone’s ATV began to slow. Following suit, he eased off his own throttle. Relaying the signal to Ryan on the machine behind him, Murphy avoided touching the brake and let the swamp water surrounding the wheels bleed off his machine’s speed.
Rogue Faction Part 1 Page 3
