by Craig Reed
"Three hours southwest of us."
"Contact them and alert them to the failure of DESERT WIND. Tell them to do nothing that will draw attention to themselves."
"The council will not be happy."
"Leave the council to me. Someone talked, someone who knew DESERT WIND. I intend to find out who."
"I hope you are—
"I have contacts!" the helmsman called out. He squinted at the radar screen. "Four contacts coming in fast from the northwest!"
Riyad looked over. “What—“
"Missiles inbound!" the technician screamed.
Kashgari looked at Riyad. "We're dead.”
"Evasive maneuvers!" Riyad snapped. He ran toward the starboard side of the bridge.
* * *
Victory Flight received their new orders thirty minutes after they had made the run against the first target.
"All right ladies," Drummond said. "Cyber, you and Gabby make the first run. If need be, Jocko will make a second run."
"Roger, Bulldog," Perko responded. "Commencing run now."
The two F-18s dropped to thirty thousand feet and started their offensive. Twenty-five miles from the target, the fighters deployed all four Harpoons. The four ship-killers bore in on their target with the single-mindedness that only electronic intelligence can achieve, with no thought of right or wrong or morality.
The Saad el Melik died in seconds as all four Harpoon missiles slammed into her and exploded. The rear half of the ship ceased to exist as multiple fireballs surged through it. What was left began sinking quickly, water doing what fire couldn’t. In ten minutes, there was only a few burning pools of oil, various wreckage, and several bodies to mark what had once been the Saad el Melik.
CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR
Washington DC — One week later
Tanner Wilson sat on a park bench near the Smithsonian's Air and Space Museum and waited. It was a cool fall day in the nation's capital, the sky clear and pale blue.
To pass the time, Tanner watched the people around him. Most were too focused on their own business or personal matters to pay much attention to him. He did notice he'd caught the eye of a couple of women as they walked past.
Dressed in a dark overcoat and a three-piece suit, Tanner looked like a government drone taking a mid-morning break from his job. Despite the nonchalance appearance, Tanner was keenly aware of his surroundings, and saw Casey walking toward him long before the Director of Special Projects took a seat on the bench next to him.
"How's the team?" he asked, leaning back again the backrest.
"Good. How’s the warheads?"
"In good hands. Secure hands. Once they've been examined, they'll be dismantled and destroyed."
"The prisoners?" A handful of terrorists had managed to survive the assault, including the man who had tackled Tanner at the launcher, who turned out to be a Pakistani nuclear weapons expert.
"Not your concern."
"Any problems with the cover story?"
A group of people walked by and Casey waited until they had passed before he said, "The story's close enough to the truth. The SEALs are the heroes, and all the press will know is that they retook the Northstar Venture from a band of vicious Somali pirates that killed the entire crew. As for the rest?" He waved a hand. "Better it never be mentioned."
"Any reaction from the North Koreans and the Iranians?"
"Not publicly. Privately, they've been yelling at each other back and forth, each blaming the other for the security leak. It's going to take a couple of months for it to settle down on its own, but by then we'll have a handle on how the operation got as far as it did, and be in a better position to stop them if and when they try again."
A young couple walked past the bench and from the looks they gave one other, they were oblivious to anything around them. Even so, Tanner waited until they were well out of earshot before asking, "And our Somali friend?"
"Axiam is back with his family and waiting for his new helicopter. Do you know how hard it is to find an untraceable Hip?" Casey chuckled softly.
"He deserves it. Without his help, we wouldn't have accomplished what we did."
“Oh, and the Putland military reclaimed Eyl a couple of days ago from what was left of Yabaal’s forces. There won’t be any more pirates based out of there for a while.”
“Until the next warlord that comes along gets it in his head to go pirate.”
Casey nodded absently. "We searched for any survivors off the Saad el Melik. We pulled out a few bodies, but most will never be recovered."
"Do you think Riyad was aboard the Saad el Melik when it went down?"
"We have no reason not to." Casey glanced around before adding, "The UAE is very happy their port wasn't nuked. They found out that a private contractor was involved — though they don’t know the name OUTCAST — and have requested that this contractor receive a five million dollar bonus."
He looked at Tanner to gauge his reaction, which so far was unreadable. "They passed the sum onto the Uncle Sam and our Uncle passed it onto me."
"Any objection to us accepting it? Nay’s always complaining about the old carpeting in our headquarters."
Casey smiled and handed an envelope to Tanner. "The account number and password."
Tanner took the envelope and stuck it inside his overcoat. "Any new problems?"
"Not at the moment."
Tanner stood. "We have a security job for a Canadian company. Their CEO thinks he's being targeted by a radical environmental group, so we'll be babysitting him until Danielle and Naomi run down the threats. If we find anything, we'll turn it over to the authorities and let them handle it."
Casey shrugged. "Sounds a little dull."
"Can't save the world every week and the bills don’t stop coming in."
"True. I just wish it wouldn't need saving every week."
Tanner nodded and looked around. "A lot of bad people out there, just a matter of when and where."
"Think of it as job security."
Tanner snorted. "I'd rather not. But call if you need us to save the world again."
"I'll see you later."
Tanner left Casey alone on the bench and started walking toward the Capitol building.
As he passed the National Museum of the American Indian, Liam fell into step with him. "Well?"
"Everything's good. We even got a bonus. Five million from the UAE."
"Nice." Liam motioned toward the capital. "Think any of them up there will ever know what we did?"
"I doubt it. But we didn't do it for them, did we?"
"No, we didn't."
As they reached Third Street, an SUV pulled up near them. Stephen lowered the driver's window as they approached. "The rest of the team's waiting for us at the airport.”
Tanner checked his watch and climbed into the vehicle. Forty-five minutes to the airport, and another half-hour to get in the air. They would be in Toronto before evening, and on the job before midnight.
While Stephen eased into traffic, Tanner dialed the client's number and prepared to go to work.
EPILOGUE
Aboard the Pharaoh's Pride
Bakir Riyad awoke slowly, pain thrumming through his body. He cranked open his left eye, the right one refusing to respond. All he could see was a blur of gray. He blinked several times, trying to sharpen his focus, without results. When he tried to raise his hand to wipe his eye, a strong grip stopped him.
"Easy sir," a familiar voice said.
It took all of Riyad’s strength to turn his head. New pain coursed through him and he groaned, but continued turning his head until a blurry image came into view. "Y-Yasir?"
"Yes, sir," Yasir Ilshu replied. "Don't move, sir. Allah has spared your life for the time being, but you had best not move."
Ilshu reached for something out of Riyad's sight. His sight was still blurry, but he could see Ilshu bringing something toward him. "Here is some water. Sip it slowly."
With his free hand, Ilshu lifted
his superior just enough to sip from the cup. The water was brackish with a metallic aftertaste, but it was the sweetest water Riyad had ever drank. After a few labored sips, Riyad shook his head and Ilshu lowered him back into the bunk.
"Where are we?"
"The Pharaoh's Pride. Captain Arazad says we are a day and a half from Dubai. We will get you to a trusted doctor."
Riyad grimaced. "How long have I been unconscious?"
"A week."
A week… Riyad struggled to process this in flabbergasted silence. Although part of him was afraid to know, at length he managed, "What happened?"
"The Americans destroyed the ship with ballistic missiles. I was on the forward deck, starboard side, and was thrown overboard, but I managed to dive cleanly into the water. You were also thrown into the water, but it is only by Allah's will that you survived the impact. I found you and hung onto you until the Pharaoh's Pride arrived and rescued us. You and I are the only survivors."
"The…” Riyad struggled to recall the name of the ship. “…Northstar Venture?"
"Yes. The Americans are claiming they seized the ship from 'Somali pirates'. Its engines were disabled during the seizure, and it's being towed to Tanzania for inspection and possible repairs."
"The warheads?"
"I fear the Americans have them."
Riyad moved to sit up, but Ilshu easily pushed him back down. "You are very seriously injured, sir," he said in a pressing tone. "You have second and third degree burns on most of the right side of your body, including your face, and you have broken many bones. You are heavily sedated at the moment. You must rest and recover."
Riyad did his best to relax. "You are right, my friend. I will concentrate on getting well first. Then we will show the Americans the folly of their actions."
Other books in the OUTCAST Ops series (can be read in any order):
Game of Drones by Rick Jones and Rick Chesler
When a highly sophisticated terror cell steals a contingent of deadly Reaper drones from a U.S. military base, no one has to wonder for long what they'll be used for. As America's own top military technology is turned against its homeland, it looks as though, for the first time in history, the president will have no choice but to give in to terrorist demands.
As a nauseating wave of drone strikes brings the eastern seaboard to its knees, OUTCAST is hell-bent on showing America that their way isn't the best way — it's the only way.
The Poseidon Initiative by Rick Chesler
During a terrifying break-in at a marine laboratory, a European-North African terror group makes off with a large quantity of deadly nerve agent. Demands are made and large-scale attacks are launched in the United States from coast to coast.
When the President of the United States becomes a target of the terror group while hosting a party on his yacht, OUTCAST is hell-bent on showing America that their way isn't the best way — it's the only way.
