Black Ghosts (37 page)

By now the place was humming with activity. Almost all units were in position and reports on the uncommitted units were coming in. The general had instructed his officers to set up more roadblocks that would curtail the movements of such units and send them off in other directions.

Androva had already assembled a second assault unit. She decided not to wait to hear from Yakov. That idiot would probably get lost on his way back. Besides, she had no doubts any more about the location of the airfield: It could only be this one.

There was one last thing she wanted to do before she went. She walked over to a small wooden room, the walls of which were lined with patent leather. It was the quiet room. It was used to make phone calls to faraway places when you didn't want any background noise to give away your location. The phone was also equipped to prevent detection of its location.

“Larry?” she said when the phone was answered.

“Who's this?” asked Joe Falco.

“It's Natalie. Is Larry there?”

“Just a minute.”

“Natalie! How are you? Where are you?”

“I'm fine. I left my apartment. I think there was a surveillance team on me. I'm on my way to Edward. Did you want me to tell him anything?”

“Do you know where he is?”

“Sure, he told me. He's at the airstrip outside Kolomana.”

Larry had to think fast. She had the right place, and he also knew she was calling to confirm and would probably be on her way out there with enough firepower to stop a country. “I don't think he'll be there,” he said with no hesitation in his voice. “I forbid you to go there. I want you out of that place and on the first flight back here. Do you hear me?”

“I'm not leaving him behind,” she said. “I want to be with him. How come he will not be there?”

“He's supposed to pick up the men there and head for the Domodedovo Airport. You know, where the president is supposed to arrive.”

“Are you sure?”

“Sure, I'm sure. He has to be there to connect with the Secret Service people that will get there first thing in the morning to secure the field. It's a safe place there—you should go there too.”

“Okay. If you hear from him, tell him I'll be there,” she said and hung up. Now she wasn't sure anymore, but she was not going to leave any door unopened. Her future was riding on this coup: If it succeeded she would become the closest thing to a god she could ever hope to be. If it failed, she was better off dead.

 

 

 

The remains of the helicopter were still burning in the field by the runway. Several of Yuri's men had reached it with a truck and were now busy putting out the flames with two fire extinguishers. Yuri wanted it out as fast as possible. He was worried that either this chopper was not alone or that someone would start looking for it shortly.

Edward had reached the hangar as the doors finally shut. He stood there staring at the giant fuselage. From the corner of the hangar, a small square cart started towing a large mobile staircase toward the front door of the plane, just behind the cockpit. Someone had powered up the emergency generator, and the interior of the hangar was lit by a weak yellow glow from some bulbs hanging so high in the roof they looked like tiny stars.

The plane's door opened, and Edward could see a figure standing inside, directing the staircase closer. The staircase stopped five feet short, and the men had to make the leap off the plane. One after another, each carrying his small duffel bag, the men of Edward's team took the leap as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

“Sir.” The sergeant stood to attention in front of Edward. “We're all here, ready to kick ass, sir.”

Edward smiled at Mario and shook his hand. “Good job, Sergeant. How was the flight?”

“Okay. We got to see Russia real close up.”

“I bet.”

“What were the fireworks about?”

“We had a visitor, an Mi-8 assault helicopter. We'd better get ready. We might have to leave in a hurry.”

The platoon was now standing in a circle around them. A few minutes later they were drinking hot cocoa and getting to know their Russian hosts. There was some stiffness at first. After all, these were men who for most of their lives had been trained to regard each other as the enemy, but soon they were exchanging cigarettes and trying out words on each other. A feeling of cautious comradeship began to develop.

Edward asked Yuri for a phone. He got through to an operator and finally, after almost ten minutes, he had Larry on the line. “You better get your ass out of there,” Larry said.

“What's the matter?”

“Natalie just called. She knows where the airfield is. I told here you weren't there and had probably gone to Domodedovo Airport, but I can't be sure she bought it.”

“Shit, I knew I was right when I said it was good to have her on our side.”

“Yeah, it sure would be, but she's not.”

“We can't move the plane, not until morning anyway.”

“Get out of there now with the team. If they come for the plane, that's just too bad.”

“I'll see what we can do. I'd hate to lose the plane. Listen, man, I have to run.” Edward hung up and turned to Yuri. “We might not have as much time as I thought. Where are the weapons?”

“Come, I show you,” Yuri said.

The Sergeant and Sokolov came along with them. As they reached the large barn opposite the house, Edward turned to Sokolov.

“How long would it take to get here from the command bunker?”

“About two hours, give or take a bit. Why?”

“I think that's all the time we have. The woman I know as Natalie is probably on her way here, and I believe she will not be coming alone.”

“So now she wants to fuck you,” Sokolov said, his face serious. Edward felt that the man still held him responsible for his driver's death.

“Not funny,” Edward said.

“Not meant to be,” Sokolov replied.

“So what we do now?” Yuri asked.

“Do you think you could protect this place?” Edward stopped walking and stared at the man.

“I could maybe hold for some time, but my men are not army, they do this for money. We are like what you call, gang.”

“How many people do you have?”

“Thirty.”

“If you hold this place until morning and get my plane out of here safely, you will get ten thousand dollars a head.”

Yuri's face lit up. “For that money we take back Afghanistan.” They shook hands and entered the barn.

Inside it was lit by a single naked bulb hanging from a wire slung over a beam. At one end of the barn was an old Soviet army truck, surrounded by bales of straw. At the other end were a considerable number of wooden packing crates. Yuri opened one of them to reveal a couple of Kalashnikov assault rifles. Edward took one out. It was not the first time he had handled one of these.

Yuri was looking at him, his dark eyes gleaming. “You like, yes?”

“Oh, yes,” said Edward, “I like very much.”

Yuri opened another case: Inside were pistols. A third case revealed hand grenades. Then there were rows of tin cases containing bullets. Beside them, in a pyramid-shaped pile, were shoulder-carried antitank missiles and another pile with some twelve Stinger missiles. And there was more.

“Sarge,” Edward said, “could you get the men in here, please?”

“Yes, sir,” Mario said and turned to leave.

 

“Piece of garbage,” said Tom Murphy, weighing the Kalashnikov in his huge hands. “I coulda made a better machine gun myself.”

Chico Valdez did not agree. “Beee-utiful!” he drawled, unleashing a burst of fire at the bales of straw at the far end of the barn.

Yuri was smiling from ear to ear. Not only had he just landed the best contract ever for himself and his men, but he liked the Americans. They were not at all what he had expected. They were real men, the kind it wasn't so bad losing a war to, even if it was a cold war. He'd always had an image in his mind of longhaired freaks, high on something, stepping to the noise of some rock band. These men were Russian as far as he was concerned, only they couldn't speak the language. “Edward,” he said, “why you come here?”

Edward stared in surprise at Yuri. The question was so unexpected. Until that moment he hadn't realized that the man standing in front of him could exist on a level beyond the immediate. “What do you mean?”

“You do this for money?”

“No, of course not.”

“Why, then?”

“Free people must help other free people stay free, or they lose their own freedom in the end.”

“I wish I could be in America.” Yuri had a somber smile on his large face.

“America is an idea, a state of mind. You can make an America anywhere.” Edward noticed that all his men were silent and listening. “Okay, okay, enough with the philosophy,” he said, breaking the spell. “Yuri, do you have silencers?”

Yuri looked to Sokolov for a translation of the unfamiliar word. Sokolov said something and Yuri shook his head. “Nyet, nyet. But, come, I show you.” He walked over to a large metal trunk and opened it. Inside was an old but still functional crossbow. Edward couldn't help laughing. Then he thought of something else. He asked Yuri if any of his men spoke English, and if so, could Edward borrow one of them for a time? “In case I need someone who speaks Russian,” he explained. Yuri introduced him to a tough-looking man in combat fatigues, whose name was Vanya, and explained to the Russian that he was now under Edward's command. Then Yuri went off to position his men around the perimeter, ready to surprise whoever might venture in their direction.

Edward turned to his men. “We'll be leaving this place in forty minutes,” he announced. Beckoning one of the pilots, he said, “Dan, we need to talk.”

“I figured there was a problem,” Dan said grimly. “What is it?”

“You have to make a decision. Where is Archie?”

“He's taking a nap at the house. All this weaponry and stuff is not his bag.”

“We're going to be moving out. Yuri and his men will try and protect this place, but I can't guarantee they will manage.”

“Where are you guys heading?”

“We'll make for the bunker. We're going to try and cut the general off from his command and communication, put them in disarray. Then comes your part. You know what that is, but I can't make you or Archie do it. Things have changed since we made the plans.”

“Forget it, Edward, I didn't come all this way for nothing. We're going ahead with it. Like you said, this is too big a deal to leave it to some bureaucrat to solve.”

“Listen, you need to know that there is probably a crack military unit on its way here as we speak. If they get here . . .”

“Edward, like I said, I know the risks. I also know that Archie would kill me if I pulled out. You go do your thing and we'll do ours. And when it's over we'll all have a drink. Now forgive my language, but fuck off.”

“Do you need some help with getting the beast out of the hangar?”

“No, it's a fantastic deal they got here. The hangar has doors on the other side and a piece of taxiing runway from there too. I just need the door opened and I can almost fly directly from the hangar.”

“By the way, how did it go in Greenfield, Arizona?”

“Man, you should have been there.” The pilot's eyes lit up. “It was a piece of cake. We gave them the papers. They had the plane all fueled up and ready to go. All they cared about was that the money went through. It was great, just great.”

Each man chose his personal weapon and filled his shoulder pouch with as many rounds of ammunition and grenades as one could possibly carry. Jean-Pierre was assigned the crossbow, while several of the others strapped on grenade launchers or Stinger missiles. The rest of the stuff was loaded on the trucks and they were ready to go.

Sokolov took out a map of the area and spread it over the hood of the jeep. He and Edward pored over it. The colonel pointed out the road leading to the bunker and described the terrain.

“Did you guys load the explosives?” Edward asked the sergeant.

“Yep, they're on that truck. Tom will be driving it. Are we taking the Cherokee too?”

“Yes, we'll take three trucks and the Cherokee,” said Edward. “Who's the expert with explosives?”

“Valdez, why?”

“I want him to rig the truck so it can be detonated with a remote.”

“How do you want it to be triggered?” asked Valdez, who was standing by the truck.

“Here.” Edward handed him the walkie-talkie. “You can use this. Just make sure you don't pick an overused frequency.”

“When do you want me to get it set up?”

“Now, on the way. I'll need it ready within about half an hour. Can you do that?”

“You'll hear it if I can't.” Valdez smiled, showing his gleaming, pointed teeth.

“Okay! Let's go, let's go!” Edward yelled.

The small convoy set off into the darkness of the Russian night. After twenty minutes of driving, Edward ordered Doug Findley to stop the jeep. Looking all around him, Edward got out and studied the lay of the road. The spot where they had come to a halt was on the side of a gentle slope. On one side the hill rolled down some sixty feet toward a small brook, and on the other side of the road there was a thick pine grove.