“Your bravado is misplaced,” Guan-Yin answered with certainty. “The Seventh Fleet will withdraw or it will be destroyed.”
“Maybe you haven’t been keeping score,” Robert said. “Your missile-launching ship is out of commission.”
Realization suddenly dawned on Peter. “Unless…”
Guan-Yin smiled. “Correct, Mr. Savage. So, now you know. There are powers at play here that you can only imagine.”
“I have a good imagination. But that’s not why I’m here, and this is much bigger than me or Robert. I came for Jade. Why don’t you just let all three of us go?”
“Where is Jade now?” Robert demanded.
“Where she’s always been since she was captured in London. She’s here, in my apartment.”
Guan-Yin motioned with her head and Pehin issued an order to one of the palace guards. The man obediently left the reception room.
“Now that the Royal Seeker has served its purpose,” she continued, “and my daughter is no longer a threat to our operations, I see no further reason to hold Jade against her will.”
“Journalists will be all over this story,” Robert said.
Pehin elaborated. “He claims he spoke to a reporter before their helicopter landed on the palace grounds.”
Guan-Yin waved the fingers of one hand dismissively. “Merely an inconvenience. We are in the final phase of execution, and nothing can stop me. Success is within my grasp!”
“You’re crazy,” Robert said. “A certifiable nut job.”
Pehin closed the distance to Robert. “You will show respect!” To emphasize the point, a guard rammed his rifle stock into Robert’s lower back. He leaned to the side, grimacing.
Robert was still recovering from the blow when Jade was led into the room, her arm held securely by the guard. Her head swiveled from face to face, and when her eyes focused, she recognized Peter and Robert. She broke the man’s grip and rushed forward, throwing her arms around Peter. She sobbed.
“It’s okay,” he said softly. Diesel, remembering Jade, rubbed his big head against her leg.
“Take them to the control room,” she said. “It may yet be prudent to have a few hostages, depending on what the American government does.”
Chapter 33
Over the South China Sea
August 26
Flying northeast, the V-22 Osprey would refuel once before landing at its base in Okinawa. Boss Man and the other operators were feeling good—they’d accomplished the mission, eliminated the threat, and turned control of the Panda Star over to the Marines. Less disciplined operators may have relaxed or even celebrated. But not this team.
“Affirmative, Colonel. The Panda Star is not operational as a launch platform. The Seventh Fleet is no longer under threat of missile attack.”
Colonel Pierson took notes even though the conversation was also recorded. “Good work, Commander. Pass along my congratulations to your team as well. Looks like we dodged the bullet and avoided war with China, at least until the next Asian crisis. Still have to figure out why the Chinese would take such aggressive actions.” Pierson paused in thought before continuing, “Have Lieutenant Lacey and her team stay on this. I’m not convinced everything is as it appears. Any questions?”
“No, sir. Thank you, sir,” but the colonel had already disconnected.
Jim contemplated those last words—have Lacey stay on it. It was unusual for Colonel Pierson to express doubt concerning the outcome of a mission. True, Jim also felt uncomfortable over the apparent ease of the mission, not that parachuting onto a moving ship and engaging in a gunfight was easy. Why weren’t they better prepared to repel boarders? It’s like the crew was asleep.
“Bull, what’s your take on the defensive readiness of the crew?”
“You mean down there, the Panda Star?”
Jim nodded.
“Well, I’d say we kicked their butts. And the Marines we left in charge aren’t going to take any crap, either.”
“True,” Jim replied.
“What’s bothering you, Boss Man?”
“I don’t know. Just a feeling. There should have been armed men guarding the helipad. And why did it take so long for the crew to get that heavy machine gun firing?”
“Speaking for myself, I’m glad they screwed up.”
Before Jim could say anything more, his phone chimed. It was set up so that calls were relayed through the communication system of the Osprey. The caller ID indicated it was Lieutenant Lacey.
“Go ahead, Lieutenant,” he answered.
“Sir, I’ve received an encrypted text message from Peter Savage. It came in on your personal cell number only thirty minutes ago. It’s important.”
“I’m listening.”
“He says they destroyed the control room on the Royal Seeker. The ship is no longer operable as a launch platform. However—”
“What? Brunei Special Forces were supposed to board that ship. What the hell was Peter doing there? And what does the Brunei commander have to report?”
Lacey sighed. “Sir, I have no idea how or why Peter got involved in this. Just seems to be his nature. And regarding the Brunei Special Forces, I can’t get a clear answer. I suspect they never departed on the mission.”
“We had assurances!”
“Affirmative. We’re trying to get better information. It’s very sketchy right now.”
“Let me know the minute you have answers. What else?”
“You’re not going to believe this, but Mr. Savage says a missile was fired just before they blew the control instruments. According to him, the missile struck the USS Gerald Ford, although it only caused slight damage.”
“Peter says a missile was fired? That’s impossible. The Panda Star was the launch ship.”
“Unless—”
Jim finished her sentence. “There were two ships.”
“And if there were two, there could be more. Sir, the Seventh Fleet may not be out of danger.”
“Have you briefed Colonel Pierson yet?”
“No, sir. I wanted to speak with you first.”
“Well get on it! Where is Peter now?”
“His text message said he was en route to the Sultan’s Palace. However, the message could have been queued for transmission before he got within cell coverage.”
“In other words, he could already be at the palace.”
“That’s correct.”
“Understood. Get ahold of Peter ASAP. Put him through to my phone. I need to talk to him directly.”
“Yes, sir!”
Jim gathered his team. “Alright everyone, listen up. As you know, our mission was to investigate one of two suspected ships that could be the missile launch facility. We did our job, and we know we have removed from service said ship.”
A chorus of cheers erupted accompanied by handshakes and fist bumps.
“Hold it down.” The roar subsided, all five team members focused on their leader.
“I have just received a report that the second team, which gained entry onboard the Royal Seeker, also disabled a launch facility.”
“How can that be?” Bull asked. “I thought there was only one.”
“That’s what we all thought, Sergeant. But we were wrong. And if there were two launch ships, there could be more.”
Concerned looks were shared among the gathered operators. “What’s the plan, sir?” The question was voiced by Iceberg, but Jim knew it was the question on every man’s mind.
“Sit tight, for now. Lacey is briefing the colonel. I expect we will have new orders before we land.”
Chapter 34
Istana Nurul Iman Palace
August 26
After Guan-Yin departed the reception room, Pehin strode to the opposite wall and depressed a section of the chair-rail molding. A hidden door swung open. It had been so well disguised that neither Peter nor Robert had noticed the passage when they entered.
“This way,” he said, and he moved farther into the room. Through
the open door, Peter heard the hum of electronic machines. Artificial light spilled through the opening. Peter craned his head left and right, enough to see many computer stations with technicians sharply focused on their work.
Two guards followed the Security Director, and the remaining three guards each nudged one of the prisoners forward. They had relaxed considerably since the shootout earlier, when the co-pilot and three guards were killed. Now, they held their rifles loosely, barrels pointed to the side. Clearly, no gun play was anticipated. Perhaps the thought of a stray bullet or two going through a wall and striking Guan-Yin was on their minds? Or maybe, they were reluctant to fire in or near the control room? What equipment was in there, and what purpose did it serve?
All unanswerable questions. But regardless of the reason, the lax security was an opening, and Peter intended to take advantage of it.
Robert was closest to the hidden door, so he was the first to be escorted through, followed by Jade and her guard. That left Peter and one guard still in the reception room.
Peter hesitated, trying to catch Robert’s eyes. His guard shoved him with his rifle, and the minor commotion was enough to draw Robert’s attention. He and Peter exchanged a brief glance, but it was enough.
“Diesel,” Peter said, his tone sharp and commanding. The red pit bull looked up, and he completed the command. “Bad guys!”
The seventy-pound canine with the torn ear immediately ceased his docile behavior and leapt at Peter’s guard. Diesel struck the man waist high and lunged for his face and throat. The guard screamed in terror as the mouthful of teeth gnashed in front of his eyes. He dropped his rifle, trying to use both hands to fend off the attack.
Stumbling backwards, mostly from the momentum of the beast flying into him, he fell on his back. Diesel clamped down on a hand, and shook his head violently. Never slackening his powerful jaws, the teeth soon turned the hand into a bloody mess. The guard continued his efforts to push the dog away, but it was no use.
At the instant Diesel attacked, Peter threw his shoulder into the door, slamming it shut. Quickly, he pushed a table against the door and then bolstered his make-shift barricade with the sofa he had sat on earlier.
Satisfied that it would be a couple minutes before the men in the control room forced open the door, Peter grabbed the M4 rifle, making sure the safety was off and the fire selector was set to semiauto.
“Diesel, enough. On me.” The pit bull released the ravaged hand and trotted beside Peter as they hurriedly left the reception room. They jogged down the ornate corridor, passing the banquet hall, and continued another seventy meters until the corridor joined a cross hallway. Peter had to choose—left or right. He went right, thinking he was skirting the banquet hall. So far, the path had been void of other people. Maybe all the guards were called to the control room?
Soon they came to another corner and turned right again—and ran straight into a palace guard who was running in the opposite direction. The collision was jarring, but Peter had the weight advantage over the smaller guard who crashed backwards to the floor. Dazed, he still recovered quickly and started to move the muzzle of his rifle toward Peter. Diesel lunged and clamped down on the rifle, impeding its motion. At the same instant, Peter swung the butt of his weapon downward, connecting with the guard’s chin. Teeth slammed together with a sickening crunch as the man’s head snapped backwards. The guard was out cold.
Continuing to move forward, they eventually found the same room with the staircase and huge crystal chandelier that Peter recognized from earlier. Breathing heavily, he ducked through the doorway that opened onto the staff service corridor. “This should work,” he said to Diesel, and he reached into the front of his pants and removed his cell phone. The guards never found it because they only patted down his legs and torso.
He dialed Jim’s number, knowing the call would be answered by Lieutenant Lacey—standard practice when Jim was on a mission.
With his breathing coming under control, Peter got right to the point. “I need to talk to Jim, ASAP.”
Lacey knew Peter wouldn’t call unless it was urgent. “Let me conference in the commander. Bear with me.”
Still onboard the Osprey flying east toward the Philippines, Commander Nicolaou felt a mixture of curiosity and concern following Lacey’s brief introduction. “What’s your sitrep?” he said to Peter.
Not accustomed to military jargon, it took Peter a second to understand the question. Situational report. “Been better,” Peter replied. “Look, I can barely hear you. There’s a lot of background noise.”
“Can’t help it,” Jim said, raising his voice. “That’s the sound of the plane’s engines you’re hearing.”
“We need help here. I don’t know exactly what’s going on, but it’s not good. The ship—”
Jim cut in. “Slow down, Peter. Need help where?”
“At the Sultan’s palace. The Royal Seeker wasn’t acting alone.”
“Mr. Savage. We already know about the Royal Seeker. I received your text message and the commander has been informed. We’re trying to confirm the damage inflicted on the Ford, assuming she actually was hit. The second ship—the Panda Star—was also a launch platform. It is no longer functional in that capacity and is now under the control of United States Marines.”
“Don’t start celebrating yet. We have a serious situation here.”
“What situation? Spit it out,” Jim said.
“There’s a control room at the palace. I don’t know what its function is, but the Director of Security—”
Lacey interrupted. “That would be the Sultan’s youngest son, Pehin Anak Shah?”
“Yes. Had a nasty encounter with him and a fierce firefight with his men on the grounds just outside the palace. Eu-meh’s pilot and copilot were killed. And Eu-meh was shot onboard the Royal Seeker. She died before we could reach a hospital. The Security Director knows all about the missile launch ships. But I think there’s more to their plan.”
“Who’s ‘they’?” Lacey asked.
“Lim Guan-Yin. The Sultan’s mother. She and the youngest son are calling the shots. The control room is connected to Guan-Yin’s apartment in the palace. I escaped, but Robert and Jade are being held there.”
“Is the Sultan in on this?” Jim asked.
Peter had been considering that very question. “I don’t know. But his name has not been mentioned by either Pehin or Guan-Yin.”
“Tell us more about this control room,” Lacey said, her voice communicating a new level of concern. “What’s its function? Be as specific as you can.”
“I only had a brief glimpse. But based on what the Security Director said about knowing the missile fired from the Royal Seeker lost its lock and failed to sink the target, I’d wager the function is command and targeting. We destroyed the launch equipment onboard the Royal Seeker, so I doubt the control room at the palace is responsible for the actual firing sequence.”
“Lacey, find a map of the palace. We need to know where that apartment and control room are located.”
“I’ll get right on it, but the palace is huge. Even if I can access a current layout—and that’s questionable—it will take some time to study the floorplan. And the private rooms probably won’t be identified as such on any plans.”
“Do what you can. And alert Colonel Pierson. Request he brief the Brunei Special Forces commander.”
Lacey objected. “What if the Sultan is involved?”
“It’s a risk I have to take. I’d prefer we go in with their help.”
“Go in? Sir, it’s my duty to remind you that we have not received orders to enter Brunei. If the Sultan has condoned these actions, we won’t get any help from his military. In fact, he’d likely order a robust defense and file a strong complaint with the State Department. He’d rightly say that any military intrusion is an act of war. The Secretary of State will have your head, if you survive long enough to return home.”
“Your objection is duly noted, Lieutenant. Now,
just get me permission.”
“Yes, sir. I’m on it.”
“And Peter, see if you can help Lacey’s team identify the location of the control room. Since you’ve been there, maybe your knowledge of the layout will help narrow down the possibilities. Are you in a safe location now?”
“For the moment. I’m still in the palace. The grounds are crawling with guards who have shown a strong interest in shooting me. But inside the palace I’ve only encountered one guard outside of the control room. Right now, I’m in a service hallway. When the security teams finally get organized, I think they’ll search the public areas first, so I should be okay here for a while.”
“Good. Sit tight. We need to refuel our transport and then I’ll have the pilot turn back for Brunei. Probably sixty to eighty minutes out. I’ll let Lacey know as soon as I have a firm ETA.”
“Sir, I’m calling the Colonel now. But it will likely take some time to work out the details.”
“Move on it! In the meantime, my team will be en route to Brunei.”
“Lieutenant,” Peter said before the communication was terminated. “I have something to do, and my phone will be silenced. If you call, I may not be able to answer.”
Neither Jim nor Lacey liked the implications of that statement. “Just stay put,” Jim commanded. But Peter wasn’t one to follow orders. He answered to a higher authority… his personal code of honor.
“Jade and Robert need my help.”
“Mr. Savage, Commander Nicolaou is right. You are vastly outnumbered and in a sprawling building that is unfamiliar to you, but that the palace security know intimately well. You are at a huge tactical disadvantage… you don’t stand a chance. Please, wait for backup.”
Peter glanced at Diesel. The pit bull was standing alert, ears forward and eyes focused on a door not far down the service corridor. “I have backup. And the element of surprise. I’m not going to abandon Jade and Robert.”
The door opened slowly, but only partway. Peter ended the call and pocketed the phone. He raised his rifle. Then a young man dressed in a white chef’s uniform backed out the doorway, pulling a stainless-steel service cart. Piled atop the cart were an assortment of cooking utensils including two food processors, polished steel pots, and ceramic bowls. Given his youthful age, Peter assumed he was a sous-chef.
Guarding Savage Page 23
