Hide and Seek (9 page)

“It’s like choosing between which disease you want,” Nagano said.

“Is that supposed to be funny?” Jose stood next to the new guy.

“There’s nothing funny about those things.” He turned to Aliki. “Choose the red one.”

“Why?”

“Because it’s red? Because it’s Chinese? I don’t know. Red and Chinese seem to go together.”

“That’s your logic?” Jose said.

“It’s all I got.”

Aliki shrugged. “One bag of garbage is like any other. We’ll take the red one. Weps, you got the wheel. Come on, Rookie, you’re in the back with me.”

Crispin looked offended. “I’m not a rookie. I did tours in Afghanistan and have one spec op under my belt.”

“Of course you do, Rookie. I mean no offense. How can I make it up to you?”

“Stop calling me Rookie.”

Aliki slapped Crispin on the shoulder. “Will do, Rookie.”

“Mount up, men. We have a couple of damsels to find.” J. J. started for the gray delivery truck. “Take the wheel, Doc.”

“Roger that.”

Once in the vehicles, J. J. led them through a radio check. Once satisfied, he uttered one word: “Talley-ho!”

Jose spent the time during the radio check to get acquainted with the vehicle. “At least they drive on the right side of the road.” He dropped the car into gear and started for the front gate. By plan, Aliki’s team would leave five minutes later.

The sun touched the horizon.

THE SOUND OF BISHKEK
grew louder and more ominous. Sirens wailed unceasingly. Shouts once distant were closer now. Amelia was hearing more gunfire. She had no idea the kinds of weapons being used. The closest reports sounded like handguns and a few like automatic weapons. She was certain one weapon out here was a Russian-made machine gun. That one had been aimed at her and she had no reason to believe the attacker called it a night.

Something in her gut told here there was more going on than she knew. She didn’t like the feeling.

“You still with me, Jildiz?”

“Where else would I go.” The woman’s words were weak and robed with raspy breathing. Her pace had fallen off.
What a team. One wounded woman leading another woman who can barely breathe.

“Here.” The word was soft but Amelia got the idea that Jildiz was attempting to be forceful but lacked the air to do so.

Amelia stopped and peered through the darkening alley. Jildiz pointed at a rear door. A small, utilitarian sign was attached to the wood surface with screws.
Apetka
was painted on the sign in Cyrillic. The equivalent word in Kyrgyz was below it.

Taking Jildiz by the arm, she led her charge to a spot next to a large metal trash container. “Stay here while I scope things out.” She didn’t wait for an answer.

Amelia inched to the door. It was solid and showed years of wear. Who painted back doors anyway? A small window with bars was to the right of the door. She moved to it but didn’t look in. First, she listened for voices but heard none. She moved her head closer to the window, then peeked in. What sunlight remained poured through the front windows and the rear window she stood by. She saw shelves and guessed she was looking into the back area of the store where the pharmacist did his prescription work. The place looked empty.

She returned to the door and tried the knob. Locked. Of course. Bars on the window and a locked door. Why had she expected it to be easy? She studied the door and remembered a line from one of her Army instructors during SERE training: “Most locks just give the illusion of security.”

She returned to Jildiz. The lawyer labored to draw a breath. She needed help and help now. “I’m going to have to break in but it’s going to take a few minutes, if I’m able to do it at all. I expect you to hang in there. Okay?”

Jildiz nodded. Apparently talking was becoming more difficult. Amelia’s mind raced trying to form a plan she could implement quickly. The door swung in, which meant she had no access to the hinges. The lock was a dead bolt and while it looked old, it appeared sturdy. She glanced down the alley and saw another store—a hardware store.

“Bingo.”

“What?”

“Stay put.”

Amelia moved through the twilight to the store two doors down and across the alley. It had a pair of rear access doors, no doubt to allow for deliveries of materials and larger power tools. It, too, had a rear window. She surveyed the place as she did at the pharmacy. Empty. No doubt store owners felt closing down for the day to be safer than trying to carry on business as usual.

The lock on the door looked as formidable as the one on the pharmacy but there were no bars on the window. Like alleys everywhere, trash bins and containers lined the sides. Amelia went Dumpster diving and found a segment of metal electrical conduit, a hallow tube used to shield wiring. Retrieving the three-foot pipe, she returned to the window. She glanced up and down the alley, then added to the noise in the air by driving one end of conduit through the glass pane then using it to clear the shards from the window frame.

Pulling herself through the small window was difficult, her hips barely clearing the narrow opening. On the other side of the window was a wood workbench covered with catalogs only a hardware store owner would find interesting.

She pulled herself through scattering catalogs, order forms, and three-ring binders to the side and onto the floor. Quickly as she could, she finished her breaking-and-entering by finding her footing and pausing to listen for sounds of employees drawn to the clatter she just made. No one came.

Amelia allowed herself a moment to pause. Her wound burned in protest to what she just asked it to do. The wound on her forehead began to bleed again and she had to push the blood from her eye.

“Keep going, girl. You can lick your wounds later.”

The dimming daylight made it difficult to see but she wasted no time moving up and down the aisles looking for a tool to use for her next B&E. Scores of ideas ran through her head but she dismissed them all. A power tool required electricity or compressed air. That meant moving a long extension cord or an air compressor. Other ideas floated by before she fell back on a bit of wisdom she learned from her medical doctor father: “Start with the simple then move to the complex if needed.”

Two minutes later, Amelia unlocked the delivery door and emerged into the alley with a ten-pound, yellow-handled sledgehammer.

J. J.’S MIND SWIRLED
as the old panel truck bounced down streets on metal-fatigued springs and shocks five years past their usefulness. The team once traveled through part of eastern Siberia by large panel truck painted to look like a FedEx vehicle. The back was equipped with seats. Uncomfortable seats, but seats nonetheless. This contraption had seats too: metal folding chairs with a backrest screwed to one of the narrow uprights supporting the sheet metal sides. J. J. never thought he would, but he missed the Siberian FedEx truck.

“The Air Force spared no price in fixing us up with these digs.” Pete studied the tablet device they nicknamed CONNIE. A GPS map was on the screen. A green dot indicated their location; a blue dot Aliki’s team. A red dot marked the street where the attempted abduction took place.

“Just remember, it isn’t the kind of vehicle that makes it military, it’s who’s in it.”

“So you’re enjoying the ride, Boss.”

“Not in the least.”

“Uh oh,” Pete said. “Just got a burst transmission.”

“Let’s hear it.” J. J. leaned closer, spreading his feet to keep from sliding off the chair.

“It’s from Colonel Weidman. The riots have spread. Intel tells him the phone system was sabotaged. Same for the cell towers.”

“So this is more rebellion than riot.”

“I guess.”

“That’s not good. Riots are headless beasts; rebellions come with planning.” J. J. felt his gut twist.

“The colonel must have some computer jockey pulling things together. He’s sent a map showing where the crowds are and the fires.”

“Hand it over.” J. J. took CONNIE.

“There’s more than one map. Slide your finger to the left, you’ll see the ‘then-and-now’ map.”

J. J. did. “They’re still near our area of operation but the numbers seem to be further north of the street.”

“But they’re moving that way, Boss. We may have company when we get there. Weidman says the numbers are growing. There are more fires. It’s like the city has gone mad.”

J. J. frowned. “Maybe the whole country.” He wanted to tell Jose to step on it, but he was trying to avoid attention. Could that be done in a city filled with rioters? They charted a course around the edge of town to avoid the growing crowds in the downtown streets. This was taking longer than he wanted.

A pop-up announcement appeared above the map image. J. J. tapped it. As with all transmissions, he had to enter a code to retrieve the message. Unlike most handheld computers where one password gave access to all e-mail, CONNIE required the code be given every time it was activated or a new message arrived, thereby limiting the amount of information a hostile could glean from the device should it fall in the wrong hands.

J. J. tapped in the password. “Not good.”

Pete raised an eyebrow. “Two words I hate to hear.”

“Crowds seem to be moving closer to the base. Weidman says it’s slow but wants us up to speed in case we have to figure a new way into the base or have to hang out for awhile.”

“Or retreat to the safe confines of Afghanistan.”

J. J. chuckled at the sarcasm. The war had been winding down but Afghanistan could not be considered safe. “That’d be a far drive, Junior. There’s a whole ’nother country between here and there.”

“A long drive could be nice.”

The van rocked and bounced as one of its tires found a pothole.

“Sorry.” Jose veered to the side again to avoid something only he could see.

“You were saying?” It was J. J.’s turn to raise an eyebrow.

“Me? Nothing, Boss. I didn’t say anything about a long drive.” Pete turned his gaze to the floor.

“Something eating you?” J. J. handed CONNIE back.

“Not really. I’m good.”

“But . . .”

Pete brushed something off his boot. “I’ve been thinking about the new guys. I hate going on mission with men I haven’t trained with. With Moyer and Rich, we knew what to expect: Moyer would be grumpy all the time and Rich would threaten our lives. It was like being home. When things turned bad, however, you knew they were there for you. Know what I mean?”

J. J. nodded. “Yep. I know. They were the best—are the best. Aliki and Nagano have good records and a ton of experience.”

“I’m not questioning that. It’s just, well, before we were a well-meshed set of gears. Sure we had to replace team members before but just one at a time. To have a third of our unit new . . . Forget it, Boss. I’m just thinking out loud.”

“I hear ya, Pete. I’ve wondered the same thing, but we have no other choice. This is the way it has to be done. Both men have the same training we do. Both are Rangers. They’ll pick up your quirks soon enough.”

“My quirks?”

“Sorry, I meant to say
our
quirks.”

“Sure ya did, Boss. Sure ya did.”

“Get on the radio and bring the rest of the team up to speed about the riots.”

“Will do.”

“Doc?” J. J. turned to the opening between the front seats and the cargo area. “Kick this pig.”

The van sped up.