Northern Sun: Book Four in The Mad Mick Series

by Franklin Horton

  “Can you hear him?” Conor asked, tipping the spotting scope in her direction to watch for a response.

  She threw up a hand but Conor could barely see it. Darkness was upon them and her movement was only a flicker in the shadows. The forested lakeshore was dark with only the leaden reflection of the water visible between the trees.

  “What else did our fishing brothers bring back this evening?” Kamil asked the group.

  Two of the men stood and walked to the largest of the maps. They pointed and conferred with each other in whispers before coming to a consensus. When they did, one of them placed a marker on the map. They returned to their seats while Kamil stepped before the map and studied the location they’d marked.

  “And what will we find there?” he asked.

  “A large family,” one of the men replied. “Perhaps a dozen people. The patriarch, his children, and their extended family. We fished alongside their dock for a while and they were friendly. They were relaxed and spoke with us. We saw no dogs and no guns. There was a sign on the dock. They call their home Picture Perfect.”

  Kamil nodded. “Excellent. Were you able to get a marker in place?”

  “Yes, same place. It’s hanging under the dock,” another fisherman stated.

  Kamil took a ruler and applied it to the map.

  “He’s measuring the distance to a location,” Conor said into his radio. “Listen for a number.” With him unable to hear anything the men were saying, he had to hope he and Shani could later piece together a narrative from their individual observations.

  Kamil turned around and faced the men. “About three and a half kilometers. That’s not bad. Is the home private?”

  One of the fishermen spoke. “It’s on a large lot by itself. It’s an old house but big, and it’s not part of any neighborhood.”

  “Even better,” Kamil said. “Bushra, what is your plan for Picture Perfect?”

  Another man stood and approached the map. He studied the marker, then turned to face the group. He had a short beard with some gray and none of the jovial nature that Kamil had when addressing his colleagues. This man was all business. He was a hater. A killer. A true believer.

  “My team will leave in two hours. You have time to pray. Time to prepare your weapons and your hearts.”

  Bushra dismissed the men. One man began gathering the dinner dishes while the others wandered toward the door.

  “Out of there!” Conor hissed into his radio. “They’re leaving! I repeat, get out of there now!” He could no longer see her in the darkness. He had to hope Shani heard him and was responding to his commands.

  Before Conor changed positions, he cranked his spotting scope to maximum zoom and focused on the map. It still wasn’t that clear but he hoped the picture might tell them something. He used the camera on his sPad to shoot a couple of pictures through the spotting scope.

  With that done, he tucked the sPad back in its pouch and folded down his helmet-mounted nightvision. He grabbed the spotting scope and carefully retreated to the observation post where he and Shani had been set up earlier. By the time he got there, Shani was already creeping through the woods toward him. Her nightvision was in the gear she’d left with him and she was cautiously moving along by feel and memory.

  “This way,” Conor whispered, offering his voice as a lifeline in the darkness.

  “Let’s head back and join up with the others,” Shani said when she reached his side.

  “Okay, but what were they saying?”

  “The fisherman are the spotters. They find the targets. The second group of men, those who looked like they just woke up, launch the attacks at night. I have no idea how many they might have pulled off already but they’re not sitting around like the men at Mumin’s camp. They’re already active.”

  “There were several dots on their map,” Conor pointed out. “I couldn’t see exact locations but there were a few of them.”

  Shani extracted her bump helmet and buckled it in place. When she was done, she dropped her nightvision down over her eyes. “I guess this group is more dedicated to the mission than the group in Wisconsin.”

  “Did you hear when they’re launching an attack?”

  “They’re heading out in two hours. The target is three and a half clicks away. A vacation home called Picture Perfect.”

  “Do you have a plan?”

  “I think catching this group split up is the best opportunity we might have. We should split into two elements also. One takes Kamil and as many prisoners as they can safely capture. The other intercepts this man Bushra and prevents his attack.”

  “Bushra?”

  “Yes. I didn’t see him but he was the second man to speak. Kamil addressed him by that name. He must run the assaulters.”

  “That second speaker definitely resembled a man capable of running a kill team. He was harder, looked more experienced than any of the men we ran into at the other compound. He looks like a soldier instead of some volunteer seeking glory as a martyr. Are you sure we should split up?”

  Shani frowned at Conor, the expression alien-looking in the unnatural glow of his optic. “I know where you’re going with that. You’re speaking as a father, Conor. Snap out of it. You said she was ready for this. These kinds of odds are nothing new to either of us. They come with the job.”

  He knew she was right. “Sorry, it’s hard to snap out of dad-mode.”

  “Well, you’ve got three minutes to get over it. In three minutes we’ll be back in camp briefing the others on our plan. I expect your head to be in the game.”

  46

  They announced themselves over the radio before they closed in on the rest of the team. Barb had been trying with little success to grab some sleep while Doc Marty kept watch. Conor filled them in while Shani tapped out a secure message to Ricardo on her sPad. To save battery power in their nightvision, they’d turned the devices off and were using red-lensed tactical lights. They maintained light discipline, shielding the beams to prevent any stray light from giving away their position.

  “I told him to launch the drone,” Shani relayed to Conor. “He said Trent has someone working databases to see if they can find a vacation home going by the name of Picture Perfect. Whoever Trent is, he apparently has all the clearances.”

  Conor opened his own handheld and showed Shani the picture he’d taken of the map. He blew the picture up as large as possible, pointing out the new marker he’d seen the fisherman place on the map.

  Shani compared Conor’s photo to the GPS mapping of their immediate area. She pointed at a feature visible in both images. “That point of land is a distinctive landmark. Their target is just beyond it. I say we split up and get a team headed in that direction. If Trent’s intel analyst can’t turn up any information on the home, maybe the drone team can help us track them to where they make landfall.”

  Although Conor continued to have some reservations about splitting up, he knew Shani was right. In some ways, his apprehension made no sense. He’d sent Barb into battle several times back at home. He knew her abilities and they were exceptional. He’d also placed her in a role where she was running a one-woman patrol in a remote section of their community. He wouldn’t have done that if she wasn’t capable, so why did this feel different?

  “Barb and I can take the fish camp,” Conor offered, the words coming out of his mouth before he could even stop himself.

  Shani raised a hand. “Barb is with me.”

  Conor shot her a look. “Why?”

  “You know why.”

  He did know why, and she was probably right. “So, since you’ve already got this op planned, why don’t you just tell me where I’m going?” Despite understanding Shani’s reasoning, there was an edge in his voice.

  “Barb and I are going to intercept the attack team. You and Doc Marty are going to hit the resort, detain Kamil Farouq and whoever else you can capture. If some of the assaulters get away from us and head back to the resort, we can give you a heads-up and y
ou can welcome them home.”

  “Why do you get to have all the fun?” Conor griped, though his real question was buried within the context of that one. He really wanted to know why she thought her plan was better than his.

  “At the briefing in the restaurant, Kamil said their target was three and a half clicks way. How do you suppose we’re going to get there?” Shani asked.

  “Run or kayak,” Conor replied immediately. “Lacking a vehicle or chopper, those would be the obvious choices.”

  “No offense, but I’m not sure you’re up for quickly covering that distance by either of those means. If you could, would you still have enough steam for the fight that’s coming?”

  “Well, offense fucking taken! I may not be in the shape I once was but I still train every day.”

  Shani shrugged. “I expect Barb and I can run or paddle that distance without even raising our heart rate, Conor. Can you say the same?”

  “No, but you’re not exactly a thirty-year-old woman anymore, Shani! Don’t be throwing stones. We’ve all got some miles on us.”

  Shani grew silent and her eyes bore into Conor’s. “You remember that thirty-year-old woman, do you? What else do you remember, Conor Maguire?”

  This was getting personal. Conor got to his feet and stalked off. Barb and Doc Marty glanced at each other, eyes wide. Neither knew how to respond to the turn this had taken. They both chose to sit there and keep their mouths shut, though Barb was getting a little taste of what Doc Marty had implied to her back at their home compound. Conor did have a strong reaction to this powerful, headstrong Israeli woman.

  “Conor, we have no time to waste. Get your personal shit in check,” Shani said. “Come back here and let’s finalize this.”

  Gritting his teeth, Conor did exactly that. “Okay, you and Barb are intercepting the assaulters. Doc and I are taking Kamil and securing the camp. Anything else we need to know?”

  “Those are the basics,” Shani said. “Barb and I need to leave immediately so please pass our plans on to Ricardo. Will you do that?”

  Conor nodded. “Of course.”

  “Then let’s hit it.”

  Shani worked with Barb to help her finalize her load-out while Conor did the same with Doc Marty. To Shani’s irritation, Conor insisted on going over Barb’s gear himself. He changed a few things, though it probably wasn’t necessary. He simply found it satisfying to get under Shani’s skin and that was one more little way to do it.

  “We good now?” Shani asked, her tone accusing.

  Conor smiled. “Absolutely.” He gave his daughter a quick hug. “As much as it pains me to say it, listen to Shani. Do exactly what she tells you. She has the experience here.”

  Barb nodded, seeming cool and unperturbed by the circumstances. Her earlier anxiety had dissipated. She was in operational mode and she was ready. “I’ll be fine, Dad.”

  Conor knew she would be. He hoped she would be. “How are you going? By land or by sea?”

  Shani looked at Barb for confirmation as she spoke. “It’s only three and a half kilometers and they’re not leaving for two hours. I say we walk it. That’s less exposed than being on the water. It will give us time to find the house and get in position.”

  “When are you and I launching?” Doc Marty asked Conor.

  “Not until the assaulters are clear of the camp. We let them leave, then let’s wait about thirty minutes for the away team to get clear. That gives the camp time to settle back down. Meanwhile, maybe we can have a bite to eat.”

  “Of course,” Barb said.

  “An army runs on its stomachs,” Conor pointed out.

  “I thought it ran on caffeine and hate,” Barb said.

  “Only before noon,” Shani said. “After that, it’s food. You ready?”

  Barb nodded. “I’m good.”

  Shani and Barb worked their way through the forest, heading in a direction that would allow them to intercept the main road further away from the camp. Conor watched them go, then took a seat against a tree.

  “She’ll be fine,” Doc Marty assured him. “Reminds me of when you convinced me it was time to give Shannon a little more space and let her go on that operation against The Bond with you.”

  “This feels different for some reason. It’s one thing to do it in defense of your home, but quite another to take it on as a profession. It makes me think of all the things we’ve seen over the years. Not exactly stuff I want my daughter exposed to.”

  Doc shrugged. “Letting her go with Shani was the right move, Conor. Barb told me she’d like to talk to a woman in this line of work before making up her mind. Shani might be the right person to help her make her decision.”

  “Shani is a...” Conor trailed off.

  “A what?”

  Conor yanked open his pack and scrounged around for an MRE. He found one, then shoved it back in his pack, deciding they were too close to the enemy to fill the air with the scent of cooking food. “She’s crazy.”

  “Can you be more specific? A lot of men label women as crazy. I used to not pay attention to that but I’m raising a daughter. How do you feel when people call Barb crazy?”

  “I don’t need your counseling bullshit, Doc,” Conor grumbled. “Need I remind you that you’re a dentist and not a social worker?”

  “What do you have against Shani?”

  “Are you going to eat or badger me all night?”

  “Fine. I figure this is another of those grudges like you held against me over your teeth.”

  Conor cocked an eyebrow at Doc Marty. In the glow of the red light he looked like an angry devil, which was exactly what he felt like at the moment. “That’s behind us, Doc. You best leave it there.”

  They ate in silence, Conor eating a protein bar while wishing he was in line at Kamil’s buffet across the road. His energy bar tasted like bark and that grilled fish had looked amazing. When he was done with it, he distracted himself by sending a message off to Ricardo with the plan they’d put in place. He checked his watch.

  “I think I’m going to stretch out for a bit,” he said. “In one hour, we’ll change positions and observe the camp. In two hours, it should be time to hit them.”

  47

  “They’re congregating outside the restaurant,” Conor said. “They have weapons and backpacks.”

  Conor and Doc Marty had moved down to the observation post where he and Shani had watched the terrorists earlier. Both were wearing their nightvision gear but Conor had a spotting scope glued to his eye, watching the activities of the camp. At Mumin’s camp, they’d used Shani’s PVS-14 night vision attached directly to the spotting scope. Conor’s ENVG-B didn’t allow him to do that so he had to awkwardly align the device with the spotting scope.

  The resort was darker now. There were a few low lanterns going in various structures around the property but everyone seemed intent on keeping things low-key. Too much light on a dark night drew attention. Those lights would reflect on the water and be noticed by people on the other side of the lake. Conor knew from his training that operating beside the water was like working under a magnifying glass. Sound traveled further, light traveled further, and more people cruised by your location. It was the nature of recreational lakes.

  “How many?” Doc Marty asked.

  “Hard to say exactly,” Conor said. “The men are mingling together. I doubt all of these men are going. Some are probably part of that fishing recon crew out seeing their brothers off. We’ll get a better count when they move down to the dock.”

  Earlier, Shani’s presence outside the restaurant had given them ears to overhear the planning of the group. Without that, Conor was left to guess what was taking place down there. It looked like men being sent off to battle. What none of them knew was that the men staying behind would be facing their own battle tonight.

  “They’re breaking off,” Conor said. He began counting out loud until he’d accounted for all the men he saw through his optic. “I’ve got eleven headed for the dock
.”

  “How many does that leave behind?” Doc Marty asked.

  “Fuck if I know. Maybe twice that many. It’s a big camp and the men are spread out.”

  Conor watched through the optic as some of the men handed off their weapons and gear so they could drag watercraft out of the stack on the dock. Plastic kayaks were slid over the edge and into the water. Every time they bumped into something, a hollow thump carried out onto the water. Three canoes were lowered alongside the kayaks.

  Each man stashed his gear in the ride of his choice, then strapped on life-jackets. Paddles were handed out, then the men began the awkward process of boarding their boats. This was where their inexperience and discomfort became apparent.

  “It’s like bathing a cat,” Conor mumbled.

  Doc glanced at him. “What’s that?”

  “These men are not comfortable on the water at all.”

  “Good,” Doc replied. “I don’t want them to enjoy their trip. I hope they’re nervous as hell.”

  “They look like a bunch of kids at summer camp. They’ll be lucky to make it there without capsizing and drowning themselves.”

  “Saves Shani and Barb the trouble of killing them. In fact, they’d probably be better off drowning themselves than tangling with those two.”

  Conor sighed. “I hope you’re right.”

  It only took a moment for the boats to disappear from sight, the dense trees blocking Conor’s view. He noticed one of the men still standing on the dock, watching the others depart.

  “I’ve got one man coming back,” Conor whispered. “That’s ten on the away team.”

  Doc Marty raised his radio to his mouth and relayed the message to Shani. In his earpiece, Conor heard her acknowledge it.

  Conor backed off the spotting scope and flipped his nightvision out of the way. He removed the sPad from its pouch and pounded out a short message to Ricardo and the team operating the Reaper drone. He passed on what he’d seen and asked for confirmation that the drone was in position. In seconds, he received a confirmation that both parties had received their message.