Hide and Seek (26 page)

“Guilt doesn’t follow reason, Tess. At least not with me.”

“I shoulda . . .” Rich cleared his throat. “I should have been there for him.” He looked away, eye contact being too painful.

“You didn’t choose to retire, Rich. Neither did you, Eric. Injuries and the attack on Eric’s family made early retirement necessary. I know that.”

Eric shifted in the chair as if sitting on tacks. “Tess, I want you to know you can ask anything of us and we’ll do it. I don’t know, um . . . I don’t know what your financial situation is. I know J. J. made diddly. I don’t know what the War College pays instructors or what you get for consulting. That’s none of my business, but Rich and I make a good living now. The security firm that hired us is generous.”

“Big time generous,” Rich said. “We get five times the coin we got from Uncle Sam.”

“If you need help with the funeral, travel expenses for family, cash to tide you over until Army pays out death benefits, you let us know.”

Rich jumped in. “We’re not talking a loan here, Tess. We want to do something to be helpful.”

“Thanks, guys. I think I’m okay, but I’ll keep your offer in mind. I can’t speak for the other families. Some of them will need more help than me. I don’t have a family . . .”

“Yet,” Moyer said. “That’s what I’m talking about. You need something for the twins—”

“How did you know I was having twins?”

Rich grinned. “You sure you’re married to J. J.? He did everything but put the news on a billboard. I think he called everyone in the white pages.”

A smile crept across Tess’s face, surprising her. “That’s J. J. He had a lot of teenager left in him.”

“And a lot of man too.” Eric seemed to drift to a time and place only he knew.

Tess wrestled with a question. The “wife” side of her felt she had a right to know; the “military expert” part told her she didn’t. She ended the debate.

“Eric, how much do you know?”

The question pulled him from his distant thoughts. He exchanged a glance with Rich. “I was read off once I signed my retirement papers. I’m not in the loop anymore. Colonel Mac can’t tell me anything.”

“I’ve only been a soldier’s wife a short time but I’ve been rubbing shoulders with the brass and intel agencies for half a decade. I also know about the security company you work for. They have a reputation for knowing things they shouldn’t.”

Moyer chewed his lip for a moment. “I have made a few calls. Don’t ask with whom.” He chewed his lip again then directed his attention to Bartley. “Captain, this is awkward. I wonder if you wouldn’t enjoy a little stroll outside.”

“I’m not going anywhere, Eric. I want to hear what happened to my brother.”

Moyer left his lip alone and started pulling at his ear. “I understand, sir. I would want the same thing if I were in your shoes.” He took a deep breath. “The firm I work for has many connections and I still have a few friends . . .” He trailed off as if the last part of the statement shouldn’t have been uttered. “How much do you know, Tess?”

“I know the team went to Manas Air Base in Kyrgyzstan to do some training and to meet the two new members of the team. From there, they were supposed to fly to Germany so Crispin could demonstrate the new field remote-piloted vehicles.”

“So far, you’re right on the money. Crispin is an expert in nano and miniature air vehicles used for field work. He’s become the golden boy of the surveillance technique.”

“Man, I miss busting his chops,” Rich said. “He was such a great target.”

“Go on, Tess. What else do you know?”

“For some reason they were pressed into a mission. I know there are riots going on in Bishkek, Talas, Osh, and other cities. I saw . . .” The tears in her eyes felt as if they had been drawn from a pot of boiling water. She took a deep breath and looked at the ceiling. Someone told her a person can’t cry while looking up. It sounded like nonsense then and it felt like nonsense now. Still . . . “I saw a news report—”

“Oh, Tess,” Bartley said. “I thought we warned you of that.”

“I’m not in my right mind, Paul.”

He took her hand and gave it a squeeze, delivering a message words were inadequate to convey.

“Anyway, the reporter said the attack happened in Bishkek. I guess that makes sense, since that’s the closest city to Manas Air Base.”

Moyer looked at the chaplain. Tess had enough experience with the military to know he was uncomfortable revealing information he shouldn’t have and doing so in front of an officer and a man of the cloth. Moyer was making a sacrifice for Tess.

Moyer cleared his throat. “A lot of my information is coming from winks and nods, but I do have some solid info. My sources say the team was dispatched to achieve two goals: find and recover an FAO named Amelia Lennon; second, if possible, to rescue a VIP with her.”

“VIP?”

“The Foreign Affairs Officer is an Army-trained captain. Highly trained. Which is one of the problems. She knows how to hide. The VIP is the daughter of the Krygyzstan president. She’s a Western-trained lawyer and the lead counsel for her country on the Manas Air Base problem.” He described the news video and the abduction attempt including the graphic details of Amelia’s use of a car to mow down two armed men.

“So they were on a rescue mission?” Hearing it again gave Tess a bit of relief. Dying on a mission was bad, but dying for something that didn’t matter was worse. J. J. joked that his greatest fear was dying stupid, like forgetting his parachute when leaping out the back of a VC-22.

“Yes. He died doing what he loved. He died trying to save lives.”

Tess could only nod. A wad of grief was stuck in her throat.

“Has another team been sent?”

Eric leaned back in silence. His eyes drifted to Rich.

“No,” Rich said. “At least the best we can tell. Word is the Kyrgyzstan government has forbidden any U.S. involvement on their soil. All forces are confined to Manas.” He folded his hands. “It is our belief the team was sent out very soon after they got word about the abduction attempt. Cell and landlines are down. A message could have been sent by e-mail, but e-mail can be ignored. We have a source that says the locals sent a personal messenger to the base commander. By that time the team was already active.”

“So the FAO is on her own?”

“For now.” Eric grimaced as if the words were soaked in green bile.

“So the local government has police and security searching for the women?”

Eric shook his head. “Possible, but doubtful. They have more on their hands than they can handle.”

“But what about J. J.’s body, Eric? We can’t leave him on the streets. They wouldn’t allow another Somalia, would they?” She didn’t need to explain the reference to the men in her living room. They all saw followers of a Somali war lord desecrate the bodies of slain soldiers downed in Mogadishu. The thought of it made her sick to her stomach.

“It’s a different group of people, Tess.” Eric didn’t sound convinced by his own words. “I can tell you this. Colonel Mac paid a visit to the president. He’s one of the people who can get a hearing almost anytime.”

“That’s because we saved his fanny in Italy,” Shaq said. “That and he has strong emotions for the team and for you, Tess.”

“But the president said no.”

“Correct.”

“So his hands are tied and my husband is left dead on a Bishkek street.”

“Officially, yes, his hands are tied. Unofficially, well, he’s been known to make up a new rule now and again.”

“Whatever happened to the Ranger creed? What happened to never leaving a fallen comrade?”

“We agree with you, Tess.” Eric rubbed the back of his neck. Tess could see the tension in the man’s face. “We’re just not in a position to do anything about it.”

“I understand.” Tess rubbed her temples. “It wouldn’t be fair to risk more lives.”

“Don’t say that, Tess,” Shaq said. “That’s what men like us do and we’re not alone. This isn’t finished yet.”

“It is for J. J.” Against her will, against her desire, she began to weep again.

Three male voices joined her.

Big men cry.

THIS STINKS.

The assessment wasn’t profound but accurate. Moments before they located Captain Lennon and the president’s daughter, the team found itself on separate rooftops watching their vehicles burn like a pyre. The numbers had grown. J. J. estimated they were outnumbered ten-or-twelve-to-one. At least a third of the men were armed, some with military-grade weapons. He couldn’t be certain, but the body language of some of the men indicated they were military or paramilitary trained. Just one more burr under his saddle.

His team had the advantage of position, gear, and night vision. They could easily open fire and take down every last one of them but they were civilians. There were more Army rules prohibiting the killing of civilians than J. J. cared to remember. Then there was the ethical problem. He could never live with himself for ordering an ambush on civilians, no matter how stupid they acted.

This was not a new problem. There were many cases in military history where a mission was abandoned and personnel lost because hostiles hid behind the skirts of civilians, women, and children. For now, all J. J. and the others could do was wait and watch. He hoped they would tire of torching vehicles and move on. Helpfully they wouldn’t graduate to setting buildings on fire—such as the buildings he and the others were on.

He slipped along the gravel-dressed roof, moving down the centerline of the building, making it all the more difficult to be seen from the street below. He stepped next to Crispin. “Still got her?” He whispered in the young soldier’s ear.

“Yep. She’s still in the cab of the eighteen-wheeler.”

J. J. looked over Crispin’s shoulder. “I don’t see her.”

“It’s a sleep cab. I think she crawled back there to stay out of sight.”

“How long can you stay airborne?”

“Not long. At this distance and running four props, a GPS, a transmitter, and a camera I’ve got maybe another twenty minutes air time assuming the winds stay down.”

“This may take longer than that.”

“I’ve thought of that. I’m thinking of parking it on top of the trailer.”

“Will you be able to scan the area from there?”

“No, Boss. The camera is on the bottom of the device. Once I set her down on the trailer, all I see is a whole bunch of nothing.”

“Understood. Okay, park it but I want you to do a quick survey every five minutes.”

“Roger that, Boss.”

“I need you to break out another toy. I need something silent.”

“Can do. What do you want it to do?”

“I want to know if more people are headed this way.”

Crispin frowned. “Now there’s a scary thought.” He thought for a moment. “Okay, I have just the thing, however, I can’t operate both units at the same time. I’ll set the quad down and break out the beach ball.”

“Just make sure you’re not seen or heard.”

“Will do, Boss.”

J. J. returned to his observation corner thankful they got Crispin’s gear out of the back of the vehicle before the mobs flowed in.
I could use a break here, God. A really big break.

AMELIA SAT ON THE
mattress in the sleeper portion of the cab. It was roomier that she expected but still a tight fit for two grown women. Jildiz lay on her side at the back of the compartment, wheezing with each breath. Amelia sat cross-legged on what space remained, stroking Jildiz’s hair in an effort to keep her calm. The woman was showing more courage than Amelia had a right to expect. She knew Jildiz wanted to inhale another hit on the rescue inhaler but resisted the urge. What she had was all that was left. Calmness and rest were the best treatment now. Amelia wondered how to get her to a hospital. Unlike other major cities, Bishkek did not have a choice of major hospitals. There were a number of clinics, but she doubted any would be open. Jildiz needed a real hospital and Amelia knew of one a few miles north of their location. All she needed to do was find a way to get Jildiz there without killing her, or being killed by their pursuers.

She released a mirthless chuckle.

“What?” Jildiz breathed. She didn’t bother opening her eyes.

“When I awoke this morning I had only two concerns. One, that you would tell me you were selling out to the Chinese.”

“Selling out? That is harsh.”

“Sorry. I get irritable when people try to kill me. I never had any patience with that. What I meant was, you’d tell me all my fine negotiating skills came to no good.”

“And the second?”

“That you’d make me eat horse meat besh barmak.”

Jildiz smiled. “I almost did. That or goat’s head. I know how you Americans love a nice roasted goat’s head.”

Amelia leaned against the wall of the sleeper compartment. So tired. She felt tapped: no energy, sore muscles, two flesh wounds, all combining to like a terminal illness, and an overpowering sense of depression. The latter had been lifted by the sight of the small surveillance drone. She didn’t know who was on the other end of the controls but she planned to kiss him full on the lips.

“How long do you think before they get here?” It was as if Jildiz was reading her mind.