Jungle Inferno (11 page)

They’d planned and discussed and memorized but Romeo always wanted that one last run-through.

“Okay.” Romeo had diagrams laid out on the rough wooden table they used for eating. “Let’s get to it, Rick.”

They’d obtained diagrams of Walter Reed and sucked every detail of the layout and scheduling from Rick when he came back from seeing Joey.

“Here’s what we’ve got.” He pointed to a segment on the diagram outlined in red.

“Here’s where Joey’s being kept, with twenty-four hour monitoring. Anything that has to do with him must go through the charge nurse. Her desk is in the central part of the area.”

“How often do they move him? Say, for x-rays or tests,” Troy asked again.

“Not too often. I was there almost all day and any testing they did was in the room, with portable equipment.” His finger traced another red line. “Here are the elevators.

They’re just off to the side of the nurses’ desk. Joey’s room is behind. If we do this properly we can have him out before we get asked too many questions.” Dan looked around him. “I’ve got the fake doctor’s orders. They’ll pass muster if no one looks too closely.”

Rick had taken photos of the chart with his cell phone and sent them to Dan from the room.

“Good, good.” Dan consulted a list on the pad in front of him. “Troy, Rick’s given us a good list of the equipment in his brother’s room. How are we coming on that?” Arsenault had been a medic in the Navy and responsible for medical support on his SEAL team. He made notes on his own pad of paper.

“Got almost all of it. Mike and I will be fitting out the van as soon as we land in DC.”

“And the medicines listed on the chart?”

“All set. I called our usual source and they’ll arrive here when the chopper comes to pick us up.”

Romeo turned to D’Antoni. “Mike, you’ll waylay the doc right here.” His finger stabbed a spot on the diagram. “And neutralize him. Expect any problems?” Mike snorted. “No sweat. But you guys better be set to go the minute I show up in the room.”

Arsenault glared at him. “We’ll be ready. Aren’t we always?”

“All right, then.” Dan shifted the papers to slide another on top. “As usual, my brother’s flying the copter. He’ll take us to DC where the vehicles are and we can get the van ready. Then he’ll be waiting at the Discount Records Warehouse.” They all smiled grimly at the use of the name. Phoenix had purchased the abandoned warehouse to give them a place separate from their main operation. They’d left the faded Discount Records sign up but a twelve-foot-high chain link fence topped with razor wire surrounded the property and big signs ordered “Keep out, this means you.” They’d modified the inside of the building to contain four different vehicles and the helicopter and the entire place was booby-trapped, the sensors and codes known only to the four men.

“Rick, you’ll be up in the room with Joey,” Dan continued. “As soon as Mike gets the doc out of the way, he and Troy will show up in scrubs with orders for an MRI.

That’s one test they can’t do in the room.”

“Are you sure it’s safe to unhook him from all that stuff to move him?” Rick asked.

“No problem,” Troy answered. “We’ll leave the IVs in place and it won’t be more than a few minutes before we get him hooked up to everything else in the van.”

“I’ll be waiting at the ambulance exit with the van,” Dan said. “We’ll only have seconds once the elevator hits the ground floor, so don’t dawdle.” They all looked at each other, thinking the same thing. They’d done operations like this one dozens of times, always with precise planning and timing. But those had all been for people none of them had emotional ties to. This one was for Joey. The four men had been friends since college and Joey had been the little brother to all of them. The reality that he was now a highly trained sniper didn’t change the fact that to them he’d always be the kid with the freckles, and feet and hands he needed to grow into. It made them all the more determined to pull this off.

“All right. When we get him back here we’ll work out the shifts. Tonight we’ll do one last check of the electronics and the perimeter security.” Dan picked up the papers from the table and held his hands out for the notes everyone had made. “Got it in your heads? Good.”

He dumped all the papers in the fireplace and set a match to them. Mike went to the kitchen cupboard took down a bottle of bourbon and four shot glasses. They all raised their filled glasses in the signal of a toast. This would be the last drink any of them would take for a very long time.

* * * * *

Mr. Green and Mr. Brown sat in a Ford Expedition with blacked-out windows, in an isolated corner of Rock Creek Park.

“I feel like a criminal,” Mr. Green said in a bitter tone.

“You are a criminal,” Mr. Brown pointed out. “Or will be if we can’t put a lid on this whole thing.”

Mr. Green reached for a cigarette, then remembered he wasn’t supposed to smoke anymore. What a hell of a time to quit. “This thing has been fucked from day one. We just should have figured out how to get the Wolf out of there and scatter Escobedo’s group. Halloran and his men would have found nothing, the mission would have been aborted and we’d be dining at Club 1776 instead of sitting in this stupid car like fugitives.”

Mr. Brown cut him a derisive look. “Oh, yes, that would have been great. The Wolf does what he wants and Escobedo is…Escobedo.”

“The serpent.” Mr. Green snorted. “He’s a snake, all right. Getting into bed with him makes me feel slimy.”

“The money doesn’t seem to bother you,” his companion pointed out.

“Whoever said money is the root of all evil certainly knew the man calling the shots on this.”

Mr. Brown barked a laugh. “It’s from the Bible, a book that I’m sure you barely have nodding acquaintance with.”

Mr. Green shifted in his seat. “We have to get Latrobe out of that hospital before he regains consciousness. I’ve got a place all picked out and the paperwork ready to transfer him. We should have moved him when I said to.”

“Who knew the damn brother would show up out of the blue? He’s usually so far under the radar he’s invisible, so who in the hell called him?”

“Someone else who’s worried about our boy for a different reason.”

“That’s what I’m afraid of.” Mr. Brown stared through the windshield. “Either leaks are sprung in two directions, or someone’s got a damn good nose at sniffing things out.

There’s absolutely no way anyone could get a smell of what’s going on.”

“Well, either someone did or there are people out there smarter than we’d like to think.”

“We’ll have to do it tomorrow.” Mr. Brown looked at his watch. “It’s noon. We’ll meet at this time tomorrow at the hospital. Lunch time there’s a lot of confusion and people don’t check things as carefully as they should. Or take time to make objections.”

“What’s the big deal?” Mr. Green asked. “We’ve got the paperwork. We’re making an official transfer.”

“I just don’t want to have too many people asking us questions.”

“You’ve got the doc on standby?”

Mr. Brown nodded. “And a list of what we’ll need. He’ll get the stuff tonight.” Mr. Green drummed his fingers on the dashboard. “Maybe we’d be a lot better just to get rid of the kid the way we planned.”

Mr. Brown shook his head. “We have to find out if he knows who Halloran might be sending these crazy messages to. We can’t afford to have someone running around like a loose cannon digging into our business. There’s too much at stake.” Mr. Green sighed. “All right. Noon tomorrow. The ambulance will be waiting outside and the doc will bring a gurney up with him.”

“Fine. Now let’s get the hell out of here.”

* * * * *

Faith was consumed with frustration. Her body was still sore from the pain that had battered it, her mind was in turmoil and no matter in which direction she looked she couldn’t find a thing. Not a clue. Nothing. Apparently you couldn’t just find a website called SpecialOpsRUs and type in someone’s name.

She’d found the scrap of paper on which she’d scribbled the name of Mark’s commanding officer and she knew he was based out of Fort Bragg. That was it. She should have been smart enough to figure out a click of the mouse wouldn’t just call up the names of the men in his unit. Secrecy meant exactly that—no exposure to public scrutiny.

It took five tries for her to get through the switchboard at Fort Bragg and reach Major John Gregorio’s office, only to be told he was in a meeting and couldn’t be disturbed. She left her name and number with a pleading message that he call her. Four hours and several additional tries later she still hadn’t been able to speak with him.

She did manage to cull a lot of general information from both the Special Ops and Fort Bragg websites. The members of SpecOps were considered the elite of the military—Army Rangers now members of Delta Force, SEALs, Force Recon Marines and a very few elite flyboys, all of them with a minimum of four to seven years experience in the service before their applications were even accepted.

After a second period of selection and assessment, they entered the training that would include their own version of Hell Week, designed to prepare them to survive in any situation. They were then assigned to teams, each with a leader and began building the trust and relationships they would need to take into the dangerous, highly specialized missions that were the hallmark of SpecOps. This was the first time she’d actually understood what Mark did in the military and how hazardous his assignments were. No wonder he didn’t want to promise her anything in a situation where he felt he only contributed uncertainty and loneliness.

Oh, Mark. I wish I’d known. I could have told you that any relationship with you was better
than none.

She learned one other fact from the Fort Bragg site, the Delta Force units based there were responsible for military actions in Central and South America. Swell. That was a whole hell of a lot of countries and no hint of where to start.

Mark. Can you hear me? I’m trying. I swear to God. Can you just give me a little more of a
hint? Please? I swear I won’t let you down. Somehow I’ll find you.

By eight o’clock that night she was convinced she wouldn’t be hearing from Major Gregorio any time soon. That meant she’d need help getting in to see him. And help discovering who else was in Mark’s unit. Sighing she picked up the phone again. Time to reach out to people.

* * * * *

“I can’t believe I let you drag me away from my favorite television program to hack into government computers.”

Andy Moreil sat hunched at Faith’s computer, fingers flying over the keys, a cold can of soda at his elbow. Four years ago when computer hacking had been at the core of one of her books, Faith had been referred to him as a resource and he’d given her more information that she’d ever use. Under the condition, of course, she never use his name.

Andy did work for corporations and sometimes the government in the field of computer security.

“If the people who pay me mucho bucks knew I was doing this, not only would they cut off my jobs they’d probably put me in jail.”

“I swear on a pile of chocolate they’ll never hear it from me.” Faith replaced the empty can with a full one. Andy lived on caffeine, in any form, at any time.

“Oh, right. That gives me a lot of comfort. You’d eat the chocolate before you ever got to take an oath on it.” He snorted.

“Never mind the bad jokes. Just see what you can find. Okay?”

“Yeah. All right. Jeez.” He ran his hands through his spiky hair.

Faith perched on the arm of the leather chair beside her desk and glued her eyes to the screen, watching as numbers and letters flew by with dizzying speed. Every so often a screen with a message would pop up. Andy would click some keys and he’d be off with the numbers and letters again.

“How’s it coming?” she asked finally, unable to contain herself.

“Holy cow, Faith. Don’t rush me. The government doesn’t make it easy for you to steal their information.”

“I know, I know. I’m just…”

“Impatient.” He grinned. “A terminal disease with you.”

She jumped up and began pacing. “But this time it’s…”

“It’s what?” he prompted when she didn’t go on.

Personal, she wanted to say but she couldn’t. “It’s critical to my deadline,” she improvised.

“Hah.” Andy swigged from the soda can. “When isn’t it? Quit marching around me like the infantry and I might get done sooner.”

Faith dropped down into the big armchair but she couldn’t make herself relax into its soft leather embrace. She was as rigid as a guy wire and tense enough to nibble on her thumb.

Mark. Can you hear me?

Need you…can’t…bad.

Faith nearly bolted out of the chair, shocked that he’d actually answered her.

I’m here, I’m here. No one will tell me anything.

Silence, while she twisted her fingers until they ached and tried to focus her mind to a narrow channel, blocking out all interference.

Betrayed…can’t trust…

Can’t trust who, Mark? Someone in your group? Your CO? Who?

Don’t give up…

Never.
She pounded her small fist on the chair.
Never, never, never.

“Hey, Faith, banging on the chair isn’t helping,” Andy commented.

“What?” The connection was broken as cleanly as if a thread snapped. Damn Andy, anyway.

“I said, don’t beat up the furniture. Anyway, I’ve got something for you. Come take a look.”

Faith went to peer over his shoulder, staring at the information on the screen. “Holy shit.”

“Yup. I couldn’t get everyone in the Seventh Special Forces assigned there but I did manage to dig around, get the names of the men in Mark’s unit.” He glanced up at her.

“That’s all you want anyway, right?”

“Yes,” She exhaled a breath she didn’t even know she’d been holding. “Can you print this list out for me?”

Andy hit a key and the printer began to make noises. “Anything else?”

“Yes. I want you to do a check on each of these men and see if there’s any clue as to where they might be right now.”

“Jesus, Faith, you don’t want much, do you?” He handed her the empty soda can. I should charge you more than a night’s worth of caffeine for this.”