Ragus had reached the switch and the landing lights powered up. Everyone stayed clear of the landing zone as the chopper came into view, hovering in the pre-dawn sky. It set down quickly and the door rolled open. Conor hopped out, exchanging a quick word with Barb and Doc Marty. When he was done, those two threw their gear aboard and climbed into the chopper. Conor searched out Ragus and ran to his side.
“Just wanted to remind you to be careful, lad,” Conor said. “I’ve got all the faith in the world that you can manage this. Be careful and take care of Shannon. Don’t take any crazy risks. Always err on the side of caution.”
“I’ve got this, Conor.” Ragus saluted. “Don’t worry about us.”
Conor patted the boy on the back, gave Shannon a quick hug, and returned to the chopper. As soon as he climbed through the door, it slid shut behind him, and the chopper lifted off.
Inside the Blackhawk, Conor strapped in. Doc Marty had already assisted Barb with her harness. Conor directed them to remove the headsets the crew chief had offered them. He handed each of them a radio with its own headset and waited while they got them settled into place.
“Can you hear me?” Conor asked.
“Gotcha,” Barb replied.
“Affirmative,” Doc Marty replied.
Conor grinned at his daughter. “This is your first chopper flight, isn’t it?”
“The first I remember.”
Conor’s smile faded. He’d forgotten about the med-flight she’d taken after the accident that killed his wife. He gestured to the headset. “Private comms. We need to talk. Some of this will already be familiar to you, Doc, but I need to bring Barb up to speed.”
“Roger that.”
“We’re headed to a private compound that I suspect is located in West Virginia, but the location is not important. Our employer, Ricardo, provides a service that has remained in high demand despite the state of the nation. In fact, business might never have been better. This compound is his base of operations outside of the beltway.
“This is a world where you don’t ask questions, Barb. I know that’s against your nature, but that’s the way it is. Unless a question is important to carrying out an operation, you push it out of your mind. Curiosity has no role here. We’re told what we need to know and no more.”
“Got it, Dad.”
“Once we reach the compound, we’ll be escorted to a conference room. We’ll be briefed by Ricardo and a man we’ll call Trent. The briefing will be for the purpose of clarifying the scope of our operation and his expectations for the op. When he’s done, we’ll be departing by chopper for Missouri, where we’ll be maintaining surveillance on a fishing resort. Our intel says this resort is sheltering an unknown number of foreign terrorists who directly participated in the attack against our country.”
“Is this intel reliable?” Doc asked.
“I think so. Our last operation inadvertently stumbled into another compound being used for the same purposes. We detained one individual who provided us with the intelligence on the camp in Missouri. He reports that there are a number of such camps around the country. Each terrorist had a primary and secondary location. We’re hoping we can take some of the terrorists in Missouri alive so they can provide us with the location of additional camps.”
During the flight, Conor briefed them on what little he knew about the Missouri camp. He instructed Barb and Doc to not discuss their credentials in front of Trent, that Ricardo had vouched for them and Trent had been willing to accept that. That was all he needed to know.
“You said the op required four shooters,” Doc posed. “Barb, you, and me makes three. Who’s the fourth?”
Conor shook his head and sighed. “You wouldn’t believe it if I told you. I was a little shocked meself.”
“As shocked as when I popped out of a shipping container in your compound?”
“Even more so.”
Doc Marty grinned. “Then I can’t wait to see who it is.”
41
The sun was over the horizon and it was turning into a beautiful, clear morning when the chopper dropped into the West Virginia compound. Barb watched curiously, both new to chopper travel and curious to see the compound below her. When they gently touched down on the landing pad, the crew killed the engines and the rotors began to wind down.
The crew chief slid open the rear door and Conor hopped out. Since the flight had been a turn-and-burn for him, he’d only taken his rifle, web gear, and a basic survival pack with him. He helped Doc Marty and Barb pull their gear from the chopper and led them toward a waiting truck. When they neared it, the passenger door popped open and Shani stepped out.
When Doc Marty caught sight of her he stopped in his tracks, his expression a mix of glee and amazement. “Oh my God! Oh my God!” He snagged Barb by the arm.
“What?” she barked.
“That’s her,” Doc Marty hissed. “That’s the woman I was saying reminded me of you. Conor hates her more than he hated me over that business of stealing a few of his teeth. That should tell you something.”
Conor marched on by Shani and threw the gear in the back of the truck.
Shani stood alongside the truck regarding Doc Marty. “Doc Marty, long time no see.”
Doc grinned. “Good to see you too, Shani. Little surprised to see you working with this guy, though.”
Shani returned his smile. “Not as surprised as he was.”
Doc Marty laughed. “I bet.”
“We’ve smoothed things over.”
“He smoothed things over with me by nearly knocking my lights out,” Doc Marty said. “I hope you fared better.”
“He wouldn’t dare,” Shani replied. “Now, introduce me to this lovely young lady.”
Doc Marty stepped to the side. “Barb, this is the colleague I mentioned to you this morning. She goes by the name of Shani.”
Shani smiled and extended a hand. “Good to meet you, Barb. May I ask what the doctor here was saying about me?”
Barb took the hand and shook it. “Nothing bad, but I’m not sure I’m supposed to discuss it yet. I would like some time with you later, though.”
“Yes indeed. We’ll have plenty of time to talk, young lady, and plenty to talk about.”
Conor had been hanging back, not wanting to be part of this conversation. He knew Doc was gloating over seeing him have to work with Shani again, and there was nothing the dentist enjoyed more than seeing Conor in a state of discomfort. “We going to the briefing or we going to stand here and dick the dog all day?”
Shani glanced at Barb. “Your father is a very colorful character.”
Barb snorted. “That’s one way to put it.”
42
When they reached the Quonset hut, serving as both a barracks for the operators and a conference room, Ricardo was waiting on them out front. He approached them as they piled out, zeroing in on the one face he didn’t recognize.
“Is this the infamous Barb Maguire?”
Barb shook his hand and returned the smile. She put great stock in her intuition and got no red flags from this man. Everything told her that Ricardo was sincere and genuinely glad to meet her. “I’m Barb. Nice to meet you.”
“Very nice to meet you too. Why don’t you folks stow your gear inside and we’ll meet briefly before our client arrives.”
Shani and Conor helped Barb with her gear while Doc Marty exchanged greetings with Ricardo. They all moved into the heated interior of the building and took seats at a square of plastic folding tables pushed together in the center of the room.
Ricardo sat down with a notepad and laptop in front of him, folding his fingers together while he waited for everyone to get settled. “Barb, we’ll start with you. I know you’re new to this and I’d normally not throw anyone directly into the fire without a more extensive breaking-in period but we don’t have that luxury at this time.”
“I understand.”
“This is a paying gig. We’ll speak at greater length about this in the futur
e, but for now, just understand that you’re being paid at a rate equal to entry-level scale for my organization. Despite how it sounds, our entry-level scale is quite generous. Since the US dollar is generally worthless right now, we pay in your choice of currency. I can pay you in gear and supplies, as I’m doing with your dad, or I can pay you in gold. You could also take payment in several different types of foreign currency. You don’t have to decide today. It’s just something to be thinking about. Your associates can assist you in making that decision. Any questions about that?”
Despite the barrage of information, Barb appeared calm. “Do I have to sign anything?”
“Not at this point. When you return from the assignment, we’ll discuss a more formalized relationship. For now, you have my word that you’ll be taken care of. Your colleagues can hopefully vouch for the fact that I am a man of my word. Will that suffice for the time being?”
Barb looked to Conor and he gave her a nod. She turned her eyes back to Ricardo. “We’re good.”
“Excellent. Marty, if you need additional medical supplies, we can take care of that before the team departs the facility. Our medic is well-stocked. Can I assume that you prefer your payment to be in the same manner as always?”
Doc Marty chuckled. “I wasn’t sure if I’d even get paid. I was afraid I was still working off my room and board for living with Conor.”
Ricardo brushed the idea off with a wave of his hand. “That’s taken care of. As I told Barb, this is a paying gig. You’ll receive a deposit.”
“Good enough.”
There was a knock at the door.
“Come in!” Ricardo called.
Trent entered the room and approached the table. He emptied his arms, placing a legal pad, a laptop, and a satellite phone on the table before him. “Good morning,” he said, making eye contact around the table.
Ricardo gestured in his direction. “For those of you who haven’t been introduced, this is Trent. He’s our employer for this activity we’re about to undertake. I suspect he’s been up most of the night gathering the information we need.”
Doc Marty and Barb both gave Trent a nod of greeting but said nothing and didn’t offer to shake hands. Barb was simply following the others’ lead at this point, figuring it out as she went. Trent seemed too absorbed in the matter at hand to think about greetings and niceties. He was all business.
“I had to pull an all-nighter to get this together. Excuse me if I’m a little punchy.” As he spoke, he compulsively organized the items before him into a neat row, then opened the laptop. When he was done he looked up at the folks before him. “If you’re here, I’m assuming you’re qualified for this operation. I’m just going to launch into it. If you have any questions, speak up.”
Ricardo picked up a remote from the center of the table and pointed it toward a wide flat-screen monitor on the wall. Trent synced his laptop with the screen and the group found themselves staring at a satellite photo looking down on a piece of lakefront property.
“Our interrogation of the detainee revealed that he had knowledge of a second terrorist cell hiding out on Table Rock Lake. In case either of you two newbies is not fully up to speed, that’s what the other two operatives walked into while conducting another operation. They can fill you in on that. The crucial intelligence we obtained was that there are a number of these camps around the country. Each terrorist was assigned both a primary camp and a secondary camp. Additionally, the interrogation revealed that there is a ‘phase two’ of the attacks, in which armed groups of terrorists will begin performing random guerilla-style attacks on communities. I had someone looking into this last night but there’s so much random violence in the country we can’t be sure if ‘phase two’ has been launched yet or not. It could just be random assholes robbing each other.”
“Does this sat photo mean you were able to locate the camp?” Shani asked.
“We think so,” Trent said. “You’re looking at the Bass Springs Resort. It’s basically a big campground with tent sites, cabins, a lodge, and a few other amenities. The place changed hands about a year ago. The new owner immediately closed it for remodeling. Despite posting signs to that effect, a technician reviewed satellite footage and didn’t see any signs of work being done. No work trucks, no stacks of lumber, and no heavy equipment. No sign that anything was being done there at all.”
“Sounds like it was closed just to keep it vacant for some special guests,” Conor pointed out.
“Exactly,” Ricardo agreed.
Trent nodded. “Agreed. Property records show that the new owner is a man named Kamil Farouq. While there’s no guarantee that Farouq himself is present on the property, if he is, we want him. His knowledge set would be entirely different than that of the terrorists staying there. He might be able to take us to a new level. Someone told him to buy the property and we’d like to know who that someone was.”
“Did Farouq himself have the means to purchase it?” Shani asked.
“He owned a fleet of food trucks in several Midwestern cities but sold them before purchasing the resort. While he may have had help, he had the funds to cover it,” Trent said.
“So, I guess the fact that you want Kamil alive rules out a missile strike?” Conor said with a grin.
“No such luck, my friend,” Trent said. “Besides Kamil, it would be helpful if we could take a few of the terrorists alive too. We don’t know that they were all provided with the same backup plan. It could be that three terrorists could provide us with the location of three separate camps.”
“While taking so many prisoners complicates matters,” Shani said, “I understand the need.”
“There won’t be anything easy about this op,” Trent said. “The compound in Wisconsin was isolated. One road in and out. Stuck in the middle of a swamp. The Bass Springs Resort is located in a recreational hot spot. There are a lot more neighbors. I have secured additional operation support that might help you out though.”
“What do you mean by support?” Ricardo asked. He wasn’t anxious to send strangers in to work with his team. He didn’t like surprises. He didn’t like unknowns.
Trent smiled. “You’ll like this. I locked in the drone support I mentioned earlier. I’ve got an MQ-9 Reaper at Whiteman Air Force Base being prepped as we speak. Your operators will have direct access to the camera feed via your sPad devices. You will also have the ability to communicate with the three-man crew operating the drone.”
Conor was the only one visibly impressed by this. “That mean we get the ability to rain down Hellfire missiles?”
Trent shook his head. “Sadly, no. The drones can be surgical but this requires a personal touch. I need eyes on the ground. The drones can, however, provide overhead thermal and night vision views of the area of operations. They can provide extremely detailed imagery of places you might not be able to get. Hell, they can read a license tag from two miles away.”
“Even without the missiles, I’ll gladly accept that support,” Shani said. “That’s very helpful.”
“Agreed,” Ricardo said. “Not sure how you managed to pull that off while trying to keep this under your hat.”
Trent smirked. “Sometimes you have to use the big hammer and pull in a lot of favors.”
Conor laughed at the expression, though for him, ‘using the big hammer’ usually referred to having to resort to extreme violence. Sometimes the big hammer was a combat tomahawk. Sometimes it was the happy switch on his rifle, setting it to full-auto.
“What’s the airtime on something like that?” Ricardo asked.
“Maybe forty hours if it’s not lugging firepower around,” Trent said. “That’s why I wanted to get one from a base as close as possible. I’ve got a lot more friends at the Texas bases or out at Creech in Nevada. I don’t have as much pull in Missouri but I made it work. Having the base closer will reduce the amount of time required to service the bird and get it back in the air.”
“What about the logistics of our infiltration?�
�� Shani asked. “Where are we going and how are we getting there?”
Trent gave a tired smile. “That was part of why I was up all night. That took a little bit of work but I nailed it down. I need to drop you guys in close enough that you don’t waste time hiking in but far enough away that the chopper can’t be heard from the Bass Springs Resort.”
“What did you come up with?” Shani asked.
“There’s a new housing development under construction a couple of miles away. No houses yet but a nice paved road with a cul de sac. Perfect place to drop a chopper with no witnesses.”
“When do we leave?” Conor asked.
“They’re refueling the chopper now,” Ricardo said.
“The sooner the better,” Trent added.
Conor glanced at Ricardo. “We need to square away rations and go over the loadout with the new additions to the team. Give us one hour to make sure we’re where we need to be with gear and we’ll be ready.”
Trent began gathering his gear. “Fair enough. I’ll meet you at the landing pad in one hour with hard copies of the maps and photos. I’ll also have Ricardo send digital copies to your sPads.” With that, he tucked his gear under his arm and left the building.
When he was out the door, Ricardo addressed his team. “If you need anything, let me know. Otherwise, I’ll have a man outside the door in fifty minutes to transport you to the chopper pad.”
“Got it,” Conor said.
Ricardo headed for the door, pausing and turning back to them before he left. “And welcome to the team, Barb.”
“Thank you,” she replied.
With that simple exchange, Conor suddenly felt a knot of fear tighten in his stomach. What had he done?
43
“Two minutes out,” the crew chief announced, his voice crackling across the headset.
Northern Sun: Book Four in The Mad Mick Series Page 22
