Apocalypse Burning (50 page)
United States 75th Army Rangers Temporary Post
Sanliurfa, Turkey
Local Time 2128 Hours
The sat-link relay to Operation Run Dry came alive at once with a harsh squawk; then First Sergeant Goose Gander’s voice filled the command center.
“Base,” Goose said in a hoarse voice. Gunfire sounded in the background, followed immediately by the terrified screams of women. “Base. Base. Do you read? This is Alpha Leader. We’ve got a busted play. I say again, we have a busted play. I need sat-link now.”
Remington strode across the room and stopped behind the op tech that watched over Alpha and Bravo Details. “Put me into the channel,” the captain ordered, pulling his headset up from his neck and fitting it into place.
“Base,” Goose called again.
More gunfire sounded, cutting into the screams of the women.
“That sounds like women, sir,” the private manning the station said.
“Very astute, Private. Now patch me into that channel.” Remington peered at the satellite picture of the terrain.
The warehouse where Goose was with his Alpha squad showed up plainly.
“You’re in, Captain,” the private said.
“Alpha Leader,” Remington said smoothly, “this is Base.”
“Base.” Goose grunted and growled, like he was shifting deadweight. “The play’s busted, Base.”
“You have your orders, Alpha Leader.”
“We have civilians on-site. I’ve got three women—two women and one girl—here with me. There may be more.”
“Affirmative, Alpha Leader. Get done what you can get done. If you can get those people out of there, do so.” Remington clicked out of the link. He knew that if Goose found civilians on-site he wouldn’t leave until he had them clear or there was no chance. “Bring that screen up in thermographic. I want those people inside that warehouse tagged and followed. I’ve got targets up and running, and I want to know where they are.”
“Yes, sir.”
Back in the radio link, Remington said, “Alpha Prime, do you read?”
“Alpha Prime reads, Base.” Keller sounded calm.
“You have your objective, Prime.”
“Affirmative, Base. We’re about finished here.”
Remington watched as the screen shifted hues, changing to thermographic display.
Felix stepped up beside him, almost seeming to appear out of nowhere. Remington didn’t know where the man had been earlier.
“Innocents are in the way of harm, are they, Captain Remington?” Felix smiled as he watched the frantic activity of the yellow and red figures on the screen. Dozens were in motion now. “Strange that with all this equipment and the information you got from Abu Alam, you didn’t know there were women there.”
Remington glanced at the man, feeling the need to show Felix that he was more in control of the situation than it looked. “I knew they were there.”
Felix lifted his eyebrows higher than his sunglasses. “But you didn’t tell your teams.”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“They didn’t need to know.”
“It appears that they do now.”
Remington nodded. “So now they know.”
Felix smiled. “You didn’t want them searching for the women.”
“No,” Remington said, “I didn’t want my guys holding back when they went into that building.”
“And if an innocent had died under friendly fire that wasn’t?”
“Sometimes,” Remington said, “losing an innocent can’t be helped. I accept that possibility.”
“I see.” Felix smiled again. “You are an interesting man, Captain Remington. I shall enjoy seeing more of how your mind works as our friendship continues.”
“Trust me,” Remington said. “You’ve only just started to watch my mind work.”
The buzz of conversations between Alpha and Bravo Details continued, rapid-fire exchanges that were interspersed with gunfire and explosions.
Looking back at the screen, Remington saw that explosions had started deep within the underground storage area where the fuel was. The explosions—roiling blue and orange on the screen—grew exponentially as the fuel reserves blew and gathered force. A lot of the fuel in the underground caverns was high-grade air gas for the planes and helos.
More explosions took place out in the Syrian armored cav. Remington was impressed. The raid was going much better and had gone much further than he would have thought.
“Alpha Prime, Bravo Prime,” Remington barked.
Both lieutenants radioed back that they had heard him.
On-screen, red and yellow thermographic figures that had to be Lieutenant Matthew York’s Bravo Detail scrambled for the Syrian airfield, where the Mi-8 helos sat under a canopy.
“Your missions are accomplished,” Remington said. “Get your teams out of there.”
“Alpha Leader is still in the building, Base,” Keller responded. “We can’t leave him.”
“Negative, Alpha Prime. Leader will make it out under his own steam.”
“Base, he’s got women with him.”
“I understand and appreciate that, Alpha Prime, but I have sixty Rangers in a hostile twenty that’s about to go critical.” Remington moved down the line of screens, looking at another screen that showed the main Syrian army encampment. On the screen, green icons that resembled helicopters were lifting off and flying west toward the reserve fuel depot.
“Alpha and Bravo Prime, be advised that a major contingent of Syrian gunships are now en route to your twenty,” Remington said. “Bottom line, gentlemen: I want my Rangers out of there this instant.” “Affirmative, Base.”
“Fascinating,” Felix said. “You’re leaving your friend trapped in that building against hostile guns?”
“He knew the risks when he took this assignment,” Remington said.
“You gave him that assignment. You knew what he would do.” Felix took a deep breath. “You knew those women were there.”
Remington nodded. “Abu Alam had a side business. White slavery. He’d kidnapped at least a dozen women out of Sanliurfa after the SCUD attack and the vanishings. He traded some of them to the Syrians, who in turn were going to sell them to warlords in their country and this country in exchange for treaties.”
“They’re annexing criminal tribes in this area to use against the Turkish people?”
“Yes.” Remington glanced at the screen. “If I could get that done, buy extra soldiers, supply routes, or just negotiate neutral treaties to allow passage of men and equipment through potentially hostile territory, I’d do it too. The Syrians are here to grab as much land as they can. The more they have before a cease-fire is worked out, the more they get to keep.”
“I’m really beginning to understand what Nicolae sees in you,” Felix said.
Remington listened to the headset for a moment, understanding at once that Alpha and Bravo were leaving the area.
“So why do you set your friend up to die?” Felix asked.
Remington kept his heart cold as stone. Goose had to go. That had become plain after talking with CIA Section Chief Alexander Cody and finding out about the attack on the CIA communications base.
Goose had betrayed him. Although the two CIA men hadn’t been able to identify Goose, Remington was convinced it couldn’t have been anyone else. Furthermore, Corporal Baker’s tent church continued to be a threat to his command, building a tension in his troops to potentially choose between him and God. And Cal Remington didn’t intend to take second place. Not even to God.
Goose’s betrayal cut deeply into Remington. Some of it had started when Goose had chosen to marry Megan Holder, to put his family before their friendship. That was why Remington hadn’t stood in as best man and why he’d kept his distance from Goose’s family. Goose choosing Bill Townsend, a corporal and a God chaser, had been another slap in the face.
Remington wasn’t about to have his command split because Goose could no longer toe the line and stay with the program. Having a first sergeant who could work independently was a good thing, but having an independent-minded one could also seriously jeopardize chain of command.
“I didn’t set Goose up to die,” Remington said. “He set himself up. I just helped him negotiate the time and place.”
Felix chuckled. “You sold your friend out.”
“I did,” Remington said, “but I didn’t sell him out cheap.” He walked to another set of screens. He pointed at a cluster of airplane icons. “Do you know what that is?”
“No.”
“That’s most of the aircraft that I control. They took off ten minutes ago. Do you know where they’re going to be in five minutes?”
“Tell me.”
“Bombing the main Syrian line,” Remington said. “If you’d watched the screen, you’d have seen that the Syrians scrambled most of their available air units to cover the attack at their hidden fuel depot. By the time they get there, it’s going to be too late to save anything. The only thing the depot had going for it was secrecy.”
“Which Abu Alam betrayed?”
Remington nodded.
“But the Syrians want their pound of flesh?”
“Yeah,” Remington said. “Their mistake. And I’m going to capitalize on it in—” he glanced at his watch—“three minutes, when my air division lights up their whole world.”
“You used your friend and those Rangers as bait.”
“Expensive bait,” Remington said. “There was no guarantee the Syrians would go for it.”
“But they did. And now you have lost your friend.”
Remington looked at Goose’s thermographic image locked in battle on the screen. “I lost my friend a long time ago. He’s just been a memory walking around taking up time and space. It’s time he was put to rest.” He paused. “And he should thank me. He’s not just a casualty. After all the media attention he’s been getting, he’s going to be a martyr.”
“Yes,” Felix said. “I’m sure if he had the opportunity, he’d thank you.”
Church of the Word
Marbury, Alabama
Local Time 1435 Hours
More than a thousand had crowded into the church by the time Delroy stepped to the pulpit. The little church had never held more than eight hundred in the past, and the building was hard-pressed to hold them all now. In fact, dozens stood outside the open windows, sitting in lawn chairs or on the grass, waiting to hear the chaplain speak.
Delroy placed his Bible on the pulpit and stared out at them. He was surprised at how intimidated he felt.
It wasn’t the number of them that was intimidating. While on board the USS
Wasp,
he’d often spoken in front of more than two thousand men at a time during different functions. The intimidating thing was that Delroy was conscious of preaching at his daddy’s church. He looked out over the congregation and felt his mouth go dry.
“Daddy, do you think I’ll ever get to preach from your pulpit?”
“Why, little man, if you want to preach so much an’ you feel God’s hand on your heart, why I’ll put you up at that pulpit this Sunday.”
“I don’t know about that, Daddy.”
“Why not?”
“Because I don’t know if I’m ready.”
“Well, if I know one thing about preachin’ God’s Word, it’s this.”
“What?”
“If the Lord wants ya’ll to speak His Words, why I swear you ain’t got no choice. You might try to close your mouth an’ swallow them words right up, but God, He’s gonna find a way to squeeze on you till you pop like a balloon an’ just tell ever’body you know what it is God wants you to say.”
“You think so, Daddy?”
“I know so. You know somethin’ else?”
“What, Daddy?”
“God wants ya’ll to say what’s in your heart so much that you’re just naturally gonna have to tell ever’body. ‘Cause that’s who God’s Word is for. Ever’body. Ever’ man, woman, an’ chile. Now if ya’ll pass up a chance to talk to people in a group, why, it’s gonna take you a long time to go from do’ to do’ with them words.”
“Brothers and sisters,” Delroy began in the deepest and strongest voice he could manage, and his words seemed to echo right into the wood so that he heard his daddy’s words, “I bid you welcome to this church. God’s house.”
“Amen,” several men said.
“We all come together in God’s house because we want to know what the Lord wants us to do,” Delroy said. “But I have to admit something to you.” He paused and listened to the silence that followed his words. “I have to admit to you that I’ve been lost.”
Some of the women shook their heads.
“Five years ago, my son was taken from me,” Delroy said. “He died in a war a long way from home.” His voice nearly cracked from the pain that came with the memory. “I wasn’t there to hold my son. I wasn’t there to comfort him. I wasn’t there to make sure he wasn’t alone.” He left the pulpit, walked out in front of it so it didn’t stand between him and the people waiting to hear God’s words. “I forgot something that I shouldn’t have. Forgot something I spent my whole life learning.” He looked out at them, barely controlling his voice. “I forgot that my son loved God.”
“Amen,” several of the men said.
“But more important than that,” Delroy said, “I forgot that God loved my son.”
