Barracuda

by Richard Turner

  A man jumped from the back of the helicopter with a submachine gun in his hands. He ran over to Yuri and Cardinal. “Stay back, or I’ll be forced to shoot,” warned the man.

  “The ship is sinking,” said Yuri trying his best to sound desperate and scared. “Surely you have room for two more people.”

  The soldier cocked his weapon and pointed it at Yuri. “Get back, now!”

  Yuri stopped. He looked over his shoulder at Cardinal, who nodded his head. Both men turned about and walked to the edge of the helipad.

  The soldier waited a few seconds before climbing back into the chopper.

  Yuri and Cardinal watched the helicopter lift up into the air. It flew right over their heads and headed back towards Lisbon.

  With a grin from ear to ear on his face, Jackson stepped out of the shadows and joined his colleagues. “What’s that look for?” asked Cardinal.

  “That,” Jackson said, pointing at Davos’ helicopter, as it erupted in a massive, orange-and-red fireball that lit up the night sky. Flaming debris fell into the cold, dark waters of the harbor.

  “How did you do that?” asked Yuri.

  “While you distracted them, I put some of their explosives on the back of the chopper,” replied Jackson.

  “Couldn’t have happened to a nicer person,” said Cardinal, not the slightest bit upset at Davos’ death.

  “Come on, I’ve had enough excitement for one evening. Let’s find Ryan and Sam, and see how they’re doing,” said Jackson.

  62

  Mitchell and his exhausted friends sat around a table covered with a starched white cloth. Empty dishes and glasses littered the surface. Since no one had eaten in days, it looked as if the members of a frat house had descended upon an all-you-can-eat buffet and cleaned it out.

  Mitchell sat back in his chair, with an IV attached to his right arm. He had changed out of his bloodied clothing and was now wearing a spare ship’s officer’s jacket. His wounds had been cleaned and closed and dressed by the ship’s doctor, assisted by Sam, who had insisted on helping.

  Yuri rested his battered body, using another chair for his weary and aching legs. While Jackson poked around on the table, trying to see if there was anything left to eat, Sam and Cardinal sat close together, conscious of the fact that they had come very close to losing each other only a few hours ago.

  On the television screen in the dining room, they watched as the Secretary of State addressed the press at a hastily-thrown-together briefing at the nearby Portuguese naval base. Supported by the leaders of Greece and Turkey, he announced the UN plan to scale back the tensions in the Aegean. When a reporter asked about the bomb threat on the ship and the subsequent destruction of General Davos’ helicopter, the Secretary of State said, “The two events were not linked, whatsoever. Preliminary reports indicate that the general’s helicopter suffered a catastrophic failure. An investigation by the Portuguese Coast Guard has been launched to determine what may have caused this tragic event.”

  “How can you tell that gentleman is a politician?” said Jackson.

  “How?” Yuri wearily asked.

  “Because when he opens his mouth to speak, all he can do is bend and twist the truth, without ever giving an honest answer.”

  The door to the dining room opened. Elena Milos walked in, accompanied by a pair of muscle-bound Greek agents that looked like they had just stepped out of a wrestling ring.

  Mitchell went to stand but found that he was just too tired and sore to get out of his seat.

  “Please, don’t get up on my behalf,” said Elena. She grabbed a chair and sat down at the table. Her bodyguards moved off to one side, with their hands resting on the pistols hidden in their jackets.

  “I see all’s well that ends well,” said Mitchell to Elena.

  “Perhaps,” she replied. “There is so much more left to do. Prime Minister Kouris is still not a very popular politician back home. This cessation of hostilities with Turkey will help, but his government is still in danger of collapsing. With zealots like Davos waiting to seize power, I can no longer remain quiet. Although the Prime Minister and I do not agree on a number of issues, I have accepted his invitation to join his government. Hopefully, the people of Greece will now give him the breathing room he needs to make the changes required for our country.”

  “Well, here’s to you and Prime Minister Kouris,” said Michell, hoisting up his glass of orange juice in a toast.

  “Hear, hear,” said his friends in unison.

  “What are you going to do now?” asked Cardinal. “General Davos didn’t do all of this on his own. There have to be others in the military who share his sentiments.”

  “That is a question for tomorrow. Today, I am just happy to be alive.” Elena smiled. “I don’t know how I can ever repay you for all you have done for me and my country.”

  “Some airplane tickets back home would be nice,” said Jackson.

  “I can do better than that,” said Elena. “As I am now a member of the government, I hereby authorize you to use one of the Learjets we have parked at the international airport to get home.”

  Sam looked over at Jackson. “What was it you were saying about politicians?”

  “That there isn’t a nobler and more honest profession on the planet,” Jackson replied with a wink.

  63

  Polaris Headquarters

  Albany, New York

  Although it had been over a week since Mitchell had been injured, the raw scar on his chest still told him to take it easy. He walked gingerly up the stairs to General O’Reilly’s office. When he saw Tammy Spencer sitting at her desk, he instantly smiled. “Hey, there. It’s been too long since my eyes have beheld such beauty.”

  Tammy looked up from her work and shook her head. “I hope that’s not true. I’ve seen your better half, and she is a beauty herself.”

  “Of course, I meant to say, since this morning.”

  “Whatever, Captain. The general is waiting for you.”

  “Spoilsport.” Mitchell turned and walked down the carpeted corridor to General O’Reilly’s office, stopped, and politely knocked on the open door.

  O’Reilly looked up. “Ryan, it’s damned good to see you. Come on in.”

  Mitchell stepped inside. He saw that Mike Donaldson was also in the room. Donaldson had a serious look on his face. He shook Mitchell’s hand in greeting before leaving.

  Mitchell took his usual chair in front of O’Reilly’s desk. “Is everything okay with Mike? He looked a little upset.”

  “He asked to be relieved of his duties as my deputy.”

  “Why would he do that? Mike’s the perfect man for the job.”

  “Ryan, not too many know it, but a few years ago, Mike made a call in Iraq based on information he had been given, and a number of civilians were killed. He’s had to live with his decision ever since. In my absence, he was petrified of making the wrong decision and getting you and your people killed.”

  “Well, he didn’t, and I think he’s beating himself up unnecessarily.”

  “Not everyone can make a judgment call and move on, regardless of the consequences.”

  “What are you going to do, then?”

  O’Reilly smiled. “Nothing. I’m going to do nothing. I told Mike to take few days off. Fahimah will hold down the fort until he gets back. I stand by my decision to promote Mike. I hope that in a few days he comes back and is ready to resume his duties.”

  “So do I.”

  ”So,” O’Reilly said. “How’s your chest treating you?”

  “Not too bad,” Mitchell replied honestly. “It reminds me from time to time to not push myself too much.”

  “It’ll heal. How are the rest of your teammates doing?”

  “Sam and Gordon are back home in Alberta, helping Gordon’s uncle to clean up from the mess they left behind. Nate and his family have gone camping for a week, and, as usual, Yuri has dropped off the map. So all in all, things are as they should be.”

 
; “I’m amazed that I didn’t have to come and bail you out of some Portuguese prison for punching the head of security in the mouth.”

  “I never met up with the man,” explained Mitchell, “or you just may have had to make that trip.”

  O’Reilly chuckled.

  “Sir, have you heard anything out of the State Department regarding the billions in treasure that we found in Chile?”

  “Yes, I have. I was on the phone earlier this morning with a friend of mine, and he said that the Chileans have asked the UN to get involved. The treasure belongs to untold thousands of people, most of whom are long dead. It’s going to take an army of lawyers and several years to sort out what belongs to whom.”

  “General, I’m not one to get into the minutiae of the business, but with General Alexander missing and presumed dead, who is going to pay for everything that we spent money on?”

  “Uncle Sam will,” said O’Reilly. “The Secretary of State was most appreciative of your efforts and will pick up our tab.”

  “It shouldn’t be too bad; Yuri billed a fair bit to the Russian government.”

  O’Reilly smiled. “And now that everything is mostly back to normal, I think it’s only fair that you and Jen take a couple of weeks off and relax.”

  “Thanks, sir.”

  “Any idea what you might like to do?”

  “Some all-inclusive beach resort, where no one is shooting at you, sounds perfect right about now.”

  O’Reilly stood and shook Mitchell’s hand. “Well, don’t let me hold you up. I’ll see you both in two weeks’ time.”

  Mitchell turned and left. He waved at Tammy and kept on walking. His mind was elsewhere. After all he had been through, he had a question he had to ask Jen. It was only a matter of where and when. Ryan Mitchell smiled when he stepped outside into the warm summer air and saw Jen standing in the open field in front of the building. She had some grass in her hands, and was feeding a young deer that had decided to take up residence on the training grounds. He walked straight to her side and gently placed a hand on her shoulder.

  Jen turned and saw the look in Mitchell’s eyes. She instantly knew in her heart what he was about to say. Jen smiled and said, “Yes, of course, I’ll marry you.”