by Mike McNeff
Seattle was the company headquarters. On any given Friday, the team trained with special operations teams stationed at one of the five major military bases in the area. The CIA believed in the event of an emergency, the military could transport them anywhere in the world in a matter hours. But, after considering Robin's arguments for the unit to be self-contained, the CIA decided to equip the team with its own assets for rapid deployment.
Robin allowed the men to live anywhere they wanted in the general Seattle area. He and Karen considered Seattle a beautiful city, but after living in Phoenix, they were determined to live in a small town. They explored many small towns in the Puget Sound area, but none seemed to be just what they wanted, until they took a trip to Whidbey Island.
They drove through deep forests, farm fields with the pleasant smell of new mown hay and towns that came from a picture post card until they reached the town of Coupeville. They drove down Main Street and then turned on a street lined with buildings built in the 1800’s sitting on the shore of a body of water called Penn Cove.
Karen looked at Robin and said, “This is it.”
“I like it too, Dad.” Eddie chimed in from the back seat.
“How ’bout you Laurie?” A long silence filled the car. “Laurie?”
“I don't want to live in a small town. I'd rather live in Seattle.”
“Well, you enjoyed Pinetop when we lived there.”
“Get real, Dad. I was twelve.”
Laurie's voice became loud and harsh. “What do you want from me? Cathy and Casey have started their own lives. It's just Eddie and me and he will do anything you say. So do you really think I believe you care about what I want? I wanted to do things, to be someone who did good things and now you want to stick me in a small town on a dumb island.” Laurie choked back tears.
Robin slowed and parked near the Coupeville Wharf. He looked over to Karen who gave him the It's your problem look. Eddie wore a confused and hurt look on his face.
“It's all right, Eddie,” Robin said in a quiet voice. “C'mon, Laurie. Let's take a walk.” He got out and opened the door for Laurie. She stepped out, but wouldn't look at him. He put his arm around her shoulders and guided her to the pier, a redwood carpet stretching to the wharf at the end. Blue water framed the wharf with a background of deep green forest and the lighter green of pastures on the other side of Penn Cove. A bright blue sky graced by white cotton ball clouds topped the scene. Robin was struck by the beauty of it all.
“Laurie, it might do you good to look up.” Laurie slowly raised her head and as her eyes went higher, her steps slowed to an eventual stop. She looked slowly to the right and then slowly back to the left, taking in the deep soothing color on nature's canvas before her. Her breath seemed to stop for an instant.
“I have never seen a more beautiful place, Dad.”
“Same here, kiddo.”
She looked into Robin's eyes. “I'm overreacting, aren't I?”
“No, you're not. Our family has been through hell…because of me. Last time I checked, you're part of this family. You've never said a word about the attack. Never said a word about the hell that followed. Never said a word about the move out here. You just did what we as a family needed you to do. No, sweetheart, you're not overreacting…you're just now reacting, which you have every right and reason to do. We do care about what you have to say. It's about time you said it.”
“Oh, Dad!”
“What, honey?”
“You make it so hard to stay mad at you!”
“Well, that's a good thing. Laurie, we don't have to live here.” They stopped at the end of the pier and Laurie leaned on the rail. Robin waited as she looked at the vista of Penn Cove before her.
“Actually, Dad, I think this might do. I'll figure something out about the rest.”
As they headed back to the car, Robin stopped and looked at Laurie. “You sent your little brother into a tailspin a while ago.”
“Don't worry, Dad. I'll fix it.”
“I know you will. You know me, I love to point out the obvious. That way I'm always right.” Robin spotted Karen and Eddie coming out of a store across the street eating huge ice cream cones. They both were smiling until Eddie saw Laurie.
She crossed the street and walked up to Eddie. She put her arms around him. “I'm sorry, little brother. You know I didn't mean what I said.”
“I thought you were serious, Sis.” Eddie's eyes started to well up.
“If you think I was serious, then you have a lot to learn about girls. I love you, Eddie. Sometimes girls get crazy about little things.”
“Sis, nothing that's happened lately is a little thing.”
Robin, Karen and Laurie looked at Eddie with surprised expressions.
Karen spoke quietly. “I think we all need to find ourselves a quiet place to live in this town and bring some peace to our family. It has been a rough two and a half years.”
“I think that's a very good idea,” Robin said. Laurie looked at Eddie who seemed more relaxed now.
“We do too, Mom and Dad.” Eddie grinned at his sister.
Robin knew he would treasure that moment for the rest of his life. He pulled the car into the ferry toll booth lane. He waved at the toll collector, who was always at this booth on the early weekday mornings with a bright smile, as she acknowledged his monthly pass and pointed him to the line in lane three. Robin had about fifteen minutes before the next ferry, so he decided to get a cup of coffee and a pastry. He was about to walk over to the little snack stand at the end of the ferry dock when a man at the window pulled a gun. The man's hand shook.
“Damn!” Robin quietly opened the pickup door and slipped out. He moved quickly and silently across the asphalt of the dock toward the man's back. The woman behind the counter looked terrified as she stuffed cash into a paper sack. She glanced at Robin. The robber started to turn…too late. Robin grabbed the gun hand and jerked it down pulling the right side of the gunman down off balance and slammed a fist into the back of the man's head at the medulla. The robber's legs folded and he collapsed in a heap. Robin grabbed the gun, stripped the magazine and cleared the chamber in two swift movements.
“State Patrol! Don't move!” Robin froze. He slowly raised his hands, spreading his fingers as he did. A man in plain clothes moved into view holding a semi-automatic pistol, which Robin knew to be the issued State Patrol duty weapon. Although he saw no badge, he didn't move. His eyes, however, followed the man's every move.
“I think I know what happened, but I saw what you did. You don't move unless I tell you to.”
Robin nodded.
The trooper was young and wide eyed at this point.
“The guy on the ground tried to rob me!” The woman behind the counter yelled pointing to the suspect. “He saved me!” She pointed to Robin.
“Who are you?” The trooper demanded.
“Robin Marlette.” He could hear sirens in the distance.
“No, not your name. What are you? Who do you work for?”
“I'm a businessman just trying to help.”
“Bullshit! No businessman can do what you did!”
“I'm trained in martial arts.”
“That was not martial arts! That was combat training!” Robin knew he had to change the subject.
“Officer, I don't want to tell you what to do, but I would appreciate it if you would point your weapon at the ground instead of at me.”
The trooper lowered his gun, but it didn't look like his curiosity had lessened.
“I have a concealed weapons permit and I'm armed. I am carrying a Colt .45 and a folding knife. If you care to, you can remove my gun and knife and search me for other weapons. I'm on your side.”
The trooper kept his distance. The sirens were getting close. Robin sighed. Grassley isn’t going to like this. His pager started vibrating.
Detective Mel Roush of the Island County Sheriff's Office was a twenty-two year veteran of the department. He really didn't care why or how
this Marlette guy stopped the armed robber. He had an ironclad case against the suspect with very little work. This made the detective very happy. Trooper Echoles, on the other hand, would not let his concerns drop.
“Mel, you had to see that guy in action to understand what I'm telling you. He was good…too damn good.”
“Let it go, Tim. If he's some kind of operator, he isn't going to say shit to us about it. Marlette did us a favor and he is willing to testify. He's as good as gold to me.” Det. Roush wrote a few more notes on his pad then walked to where Robin leaned against his pickup.
“Mr. Marlette, you're free to go now. Thank you for your quick action and thank you for your cooperation.”
“No problem, Detective. Glad I could help.”
“The sheriff is probably going to give you an award for what you did.”
“With all due respect, Detective, I would appreciate it if you would dissuade the sheriff from any kind of an award. I'm not good at such things.”
Roush had to fight to suppress a smile. I'll bet you're not.
“Where the hell have you been?” Burke fell in step at Robin's elbow as he walked through the door.
“I ran into a little…situation.”
Burke's eyebrows rose sharply.
“I had to take down an armed robber.”
“Oh shit. Grassley's going to go ballistic. He's been calling.”
“About what?”
“We have our first mission. He wants you to call him on the secure line ASAP.”
Robin took a deep breath. “Great! I don't even have time to practice how to tell him I'm going to be front page news in a small town paper.” He walked down the stairs and swiped a magnetic code card over a square tile that dropped down revealing an ocular scanner. Robin put his eye up to the scanner allowing red lines to flash over his retina. An elevator door opened in the wall. If a person didn't know it was there, they would walk right by it.
The elevator door opened on a room crammed with electronics. There were five television monitors, four computers and a dizzying array of two way radio sets and telephones. Jamie Slater and Emmett Franks were manning the center.
“Hey, Boss. Grassley says he really needs to talk to you.”
“Okay, Jamie, connect me.” Robin sat down at a white telephone as Jamie pushed some buttons and dialed a number. He nodded and Robin picked up the phone.
“I hope that's you, Rob.” Grassley's voice had a tinge of irritation.
“It's me.”
“Where have you been?”
“Well, to get right to the point, I stopped an armed robbery.” A long pause hung on the other end.
“Did you have a choice?”
“If I did, I wouldn't have taken action.”
“Okay, we'll have to do damage control. Just tell me it didn't happen in Seattle.”
“No. It happened at the ferry dock on the island. The Island County Sheriff's Office is doing the investigation. The detective doing the case is pretty cool. A young trooper, though, was a little too impressed with my moves.”
“Okay, you can give me the details later and I'll take care of it. In the meantime, we have a mission.”
“It's about time. Where are we going?”
“Bangkok, Thailand. There is a fugitive there named Anton Ivanov we need to bring in.”
“What's the catch?”
“He is wanted for trafficking children for sex. The U.S., Britain and France all have warrants out for his arrest. He was arrested by the Thai government, but they're stalling on the extradition. The guy is a Russian citizen with close ties high up in the Soviet government. We got word that he's not actually in jail, but is being held, and I use that term loosely, in the penthouse of the Landmark Hotel. We're afraid the Russians are going to smuggle him out. Your job is to get him out first.”
“I take it that means today or sooner.”
“You are very astute.”
“What do you mean by ‘high up in the Soviet government’?”
“KGB.”
“Wonderful! Couldn't make the first one easy, could you?”
“We don't need you guys for easy missions.”
“I guess. I don't have time to figure the budget…deposit five million.”
“That's pretty high!”
“Do you want him alive? I can do it a lot cheaper if you'll take him dead, which I have no problem doing to an asshole like this.”
“You win. Your five million is deposited…now.”
“Alive it is! We'll be airborne by 2300.”
Saddam Hussein slouched back in his enormous chair at the head of a long conference table surrounded by his ministers and generals. Saddam's left arm stretched out on the table, his right hand rested on the butt of his pistol. Through narrowed eyes, he listened to the Deputy Prime Minister, Izzat Ibrahim report the events at the Saudi sponsored conference with Kuwait in Jeddah.
“I presented our four demands to Crown Prince Sa'ad Al-Abdallah. The first, Kuwait must abide by OPEC quotas; second, Kuwait must cede the southern part of the border including the Rumaila oilfield; third, Kuwait must write-off the war debt from the Iraq/Iran war; and fourth, Kuwait must compensate Iraq for oil market losses as a result of the oil price decline due to Kuwait's over production. The prince demanded that writing off the debt must be in return for border demarcation that settled the dispute forever. We, of course said this was negotiable. We negotiated for less than two days and ended with disagreement remaining on all issues.”
Saddam surveyed each man around the table. He used this tactic of intimidation with great success his entire reign as President of Iraq. After staring into the eyes of the last man, Saddam leaned forward with a smile.
“I have decided that our great country has done enough negotiation through the accepted diplomatic channels with the government and people of Kuwait. Kuwait is not a legitimate country. Its territory belongs to Iraq and has since the Ottoman Empire. Its oil should not be enriching the people of Kuwait. It should be enriching the good people of Iraq. It is time for us to take back what is rightfully ours.”
The usual and expected cheer rose from the table. Assistant Defense Minister Assad Tareq raised his hand.
“Yes, Assad.” Saddam's voice had the tone of a threat.
“Excuse me Excellency, I know you have considered the response from the Americans and NATO, could you tell us your conclusions, sir.”
Saddam waved his hand dismissively. “The Americans and NATO are nothing but weak whores. They will never intervene. They have no balls! We already have one hundred thousand men at the border and they do nothing!”
Another forced enthusiastic cheer rose from the group.
“If they do attempt to interfere, Barzan will have some surprises for them.” Saddam nodded to Barzan. Al Tikriti smiled.
FIVE
TEN HOURS OF FURIOUS ACTIVITY had Fatboy, the Guardians’ Boeing 747-400, airborne. The CIA and the Boeing wizards performed their magic and the plane had some features that would make 007’s “Q” envious. Fatboy also carried four Range Rovers and two RIBs, Rigid Inflatable Boats.
After a refueling stop in Honolulu, Robin walked up to the cockpit.
“How are things up here?”
“Just peachy, boss,” Jack Moore, the team's most experienced pilot said as Robin stepped through the door.
“Good. I want the people who hold my life in their hands to be happy.”
“Rob, ol’ Fatboy here practically flies himself. You're just paying us exorbitant salaries to babysit him.”
“Oh, I feel better now. You left a real flying job with US Customs to get paid more to babysit.”
“You guys see a problem with that?”
“I've been looking for an angle like this my whole life,” engineer Eric Newman replied.
“Same here,” copilot Oscar Leighton added.
“I don't know why I ever agreed to bring you cowboys on board this gig.”
“Because you love us, boss, that's why.�
��
“I guess that's it. Just remember when we get one hundred miles from Bangkok, arm the defense suite on this baby. If the Russians know we are coming, it could get nasty.”
Jack turned and looked at Robin. “Jesus, Rob. It's our first mission and you're already getting cynical.”
“It's my job to get everyone home. People other than Grassley know we're moving on this guy. Just stay alert for threats.”
“You got it, Mother Marlette,” Oscar cracked.
“It's so good to hear a familiar refrain. How long do we have before landing in Bangkok?”
“The flight computer says ten hours and seven minutes.”
“Thanks, Jack. See you guys later.” The pilots saluted as Robin started up the stairs to the intelligence deck.
“What's the latest intel, Jamie?” Jamie turned and smiled at Robin, a broad true smile that showed the attachment and respect between the two men. The head wound Jamie received in the gun battle with the Rodriquez drug cartel permanently affected his ability to move his right hand and leg. He reported for duty expecting to be put out to pasture, but Robin had other plans. A year of training on electronic surveillance, computers and communications at CIA headquarters in Langley, Virginia, produced a first class intelligence officer. Jamie took to it all like a duck to water.
“Chien reports the Soviet ambassador went up to see Ivanov today.” A former South Vietnamese Navy SEAL, Chien Nguyen-Tran, the team's area representative, lost his left foot to a land mine. When the South Vietnamese government collapsed in 1972, he escaped to Thailand, settled in Phuket and opened a tourist shop.
“How did he find that out?”
“He says his wife comes from a large Bangkok family. One of them is the assistant head housekeeper at the Landmark.”
“You're kidding me!”
Jamie grinned broadly at the intelligence coup. “Scout's honor, boss.”
Robin felt a lot better about pulling this mission off. “All right, the next contact you have with Chien, tell him we need a way around Thai Customs at the Bangkok airport. We can let them inspect if we have to, but the less they know about Fatboy, the better. Also tell him to rent four surveillance cars. Nothing fancy, just cars that fit in.”
