Line of Control (29 page)

    Herbert said. been true every time they've gone into the field," Hood reminded Herbert.

    "If Mike or Colonel August has any doubts about this action they can call it off at any time."

    "They won't," Herbert assured him.

    "Not with what's at stake."

    "That's probably true." Hood agreed.

    "And not with the balls Mike's got," Herbert went on.

    "It's more than that," Hood said.

    "He knows his people.

    Did he ever run that quote past you, the one from the duke of Wellington?" "I don't think so," Herbert said.

    "I was watching Striker drill one morning and I asked Mike how he could tell when he had pushed his people as far as they could go," Hood said.

    "He told me that Wellington had a simple way to determine when he had created the best fighting unit possible.

    "I don't know what effect these men will have upon the enemy,"

    Wellington wrote, 'but, by God, they terrify me." Mike said that when he felt his people were tough enough to scare him, that was when he stopped."

    "Paul, I don't need to be reminded that Striker is the best," Herbert said.

    "But I'm worried about the jump into the Himalayas.

    I'm worried about the odds and having to trust terrorists.

    I'm worried about having no backup for them and, worse than that, no exit strategy."

    "I'm worried about all that too," Hood replied.

    "I'm also aware that we have no other options."

    The intelligence chief was quiet for a moment. The silence was uncomfortable. Hood felt as if Herbert were judging him.

    Herbert must have felt that too.

    "I know we're doing what we have to do," he said.

    "It doesn't mean I have to like it."

    Herbert's voice was no longer angry or searching. It was resigned.

    Herbert said that he would call the NRO to get the exact location of the cell and then give Striker a final update before H-hour. Hood thanked him and hung up.

    Op-Center's director rubbed his eyes. Herbert had his personal demons but so did Hood.

    Unlike the intelligence chief. Hood had never put his life on the line.

    He had been a mayor and a financial officer before taking this job. He had sent Striker into danger before but never into an armed conflict. To do that seemed cavalier, hypocritical, cowardly.

    But, as Hood had told Herbert, it was also necessary. Paul Hood's personal issues could not affect his professional decisions.

    He had to be dispassionate. He owed the president and the nation that much.

    Hood stopped rubbing his eyes. He was tired inside and out. It did not help that when this was over he had to deal with the closing of the press office. Fortunately, he would be able to minimize his contact with Ann Farris until then.

    Because this was a military action Hood would instruct her to institute a total press blackout on any Op-Center activities until noon. She would have to shut down the phones and computers. No press department staff would be permitted to answer their cell phones. Queries to the automated main number would go unreturned. As for Hood, he would go into the Tank with Bob Herbert, Liz Gordon, and Lowell Coffey until the crisis had passed.

    Then Hood would give Ann Farris the bad news along with his complete attention.

    He owed her that much.

    

    The Great Himalaya Range Thursday, 4:19 p. m.

    The parachutes were zero-porosity mixed-fabric PF 3000s "Merits." They had been selected for the Indian military in this region because they gave jumpers maximum control over their descent. If there were a sudden current in any direction the fabric would retain its shape and buoyancy.

    The canopies themselves were slightly elliptical with a tapered wing.

    That shape provided for the softest landings. First used militarily by the French air force, the Merits also provided the safest jump for novice parachutists.

    The parachutes were stowed in slender Atom Millennium containers. They had classic plastic handle rip cords and narrow chest straps along with lightweight Cordura fabric exteriors.

    The thin straps and light weight would be relatively un restrictive if Striker were forced to engage the enemy or the elements before doffing the backpacks. There was also an instant-collapse system operated by a rubber pull-string.

    That would allow the chute to be deflated immediately upon landing in the event of strong ground winds.

    Rodgers and his team had unpacked and repacked the parachutes. They examined the fabric as well as the shroud lines and ring attachments.

    With elements of the Indian military apparently working at cross-purposes, Rodgers wanted to make certain the equipment had not been sabotaged.

    Suited in the white Nomex winter gear they had brought with them, the Strikers were huddled next to the hatch before lining up. The team members were crouched to keep their balance in the bumping aircraft. In addition to their parachutes, each commando wore a hip holster with a Browning 9mm high-power Mark 2 pistol, a Kevlar bullet-proof vest, leather gloves, and climbing boots. The vests had side pockets for flashlights, flares, hand grenades, additional pistol magazines, and maps. Before jumping into the subzero environment the commandos would don the Leyland and Birmingham respirator masks they carried. These full-face masks included large, shatterproof, tinted eyepieces for wide visibility. Medic William Musicant had the added burden of a medical belt. This remarkably compact unit, devised by the Navy SEALs for use in Desert Storm, allowed him to treat a wide range of both fall- and combat-related injuries.

    Rodgers reviewed photographs of the terrain with Striker.

    Viens had transmitted these images from the NRO computer directly to the Striker laptop. Rodgers had printed out two copies to pass around.

    The general had also printed out a second set of photographs that had just come in.

    The team was going into what was referred to as a high contrast terrain.

    That meant the landing would be problematic.

    The target area was a large, flat ledge approximately seventy meters by ninety meters. It was the only relatively large horizontal site in the region. The drawbacks were several large outcroppings of rock as well as steep drops on the northern and western sides. Sheer cliffs bounded the area on the south and east. Colonel August was also concerned about the winds. He pointed to the color photograph.

    "Depending upon the strength of the winds in the area, this concave southeastern wall could create powerful out draft he said.

    "That could keep us from landing in the target zone."

    "Unfortunately, the cell is moving along very narrow ledges," Rodgers said.

    "That's the only area where we can intercept them."

    "Why do we have to catch them in the mountains?" Ishi Honda asked. In addition to his parachute the young corporal was carrying the TAC-SAT in a pouch on his chest.

    Rodgers showed them the second photograph Viens had sent. It showed a line of dark shapes moving across a dreary terrain of wheat-colored scrub and patches of snow.

    "These are Indian soldiers moving toward the target area," Rodgers said.

    "The NRO and Bob Herbert both put them at less than five miles from contact. There are up to two hundred of them, though we can't be sure.

    They obtained these pictures by hacking a Chinese satellite that watches the line of control. We can't pull back for a wider view."

    "Which means that if we can't smuggle the cell through we will have to repel a much larger force," August told the group.

    "For various reasons negotiation is not an option," Rodgers added.

    "We have to get past them one way or the other."

    The general looked at the faces of his troops. With the exception of the medic, all of these soldiers had been in battle. Most of them had killed. They had shed the blood of others, usually at a distance. They had seen the blood of their teammates, which typically fanned their rage and made the blood of the enemy invisible. They had also faced superior odds. Rodgers was confident that they would give this effort everything they had.

    Rodgers listened as Colonel August talked about the strategy they would employ upon landing. Typically, they would go behind enemy lines carrying mines. Two or three operatives would form a subgroup. They would go ahead and plant the mines along the team's route to protect them from enemies.

    They would also throw out substances such as powdered onion or raw meat to confuse and mislead attack dogs.

    They did not see dogs in the photographs and hoped that the animals were not part of the army units.

    Since there were apparently four members of the cell, plus Friday and the two Indians, August had decided to go forward in an ABBA formation.

    There would be a Striker in front and behind each group of two Pakistanis. That would enable Striker to control the rate of progress and to watch the personnel they were escorting. Neither Herbert nor Rodgers expected any resistance from the cell. From everything they had been told, both groups wanted the same thing. To reach Pakistan alive.

    As for the Indian force, the American team was prepared to move at nightfall, wage a guerrilla campaign, or simply dig in, wait them out, and execute an end run when possible. They would do whatever it took to survive.

    Striker had drilled for this maneuver high in the Rockies.

    They called it their red, white, and blue exercise. During the course of two hours their fingers had gone from red to white to blue. At least they knew what they would be facing. Once they reached the ground they would know how to pace themselves.

    The only uncertainty was what might happen on the way down. That was still what concerned Rodgers the most.

    They were approximately ten thousand feet up. That was not as long as most high-altitude, low-opening jumps. Those operations typically began at thirty-two-thousand feet. The HALO teams would go out with oxygen-heavy breathing apparatus to keep from suffering hypoxemia. They would also use barometric triggers to activate their chutes at an altitude of roughly two thousand feet above the target. They did that in case the jumper suffered one of two possible ailments.

    The first was barometric trauma, the result of air being trapped in the intestines, ears, and sinuses and causing them to expand painfully. The other was stress-induced hyperventilation, common in combat situations.

    Especially when jumpers could be aloft for as long as seventy or eighty minutes. That gave them a lot of alone-time to think, particularly about missing the target. At an average drift rate of ten feet for every hundred feet of fall, that was a concern for every jumper. Breathing bottled oxygen at a rapid pace due to stress could cause a lowering of blood carbon dioxide and result in unconsciousness.

    Though neither of those would be a problem at this lower height, it was two thousand feet higher than they had practiced in the Rocky Mountains.

    And even there, then-Striker Bass Moore had broken his left leg.

    Lean Sergeant Chick Grey was chewing gum, un flustered as always.

    There was a bit more iron determination and aggression in the eyes of waspish privates David George, Jason Scott, and Terrence Newmeyer.

    Corporal Pat Prementine and Private Matt Bud were popping gloved knuckles and shifting in place, as full of rough-and-tumble energy as always. And the excitable Private Walter Pupshaw looked as if he wanted to tear off someone's head and spit down the windpipe. That was normal for Striker's resident wild man. The other team members were calm with the exception of Sondra Devon the and the green medic, William Musicant.

    Both Strikers seemed a little anxious. Musicant had limited combat experience and Sondra still blamed herself for events that led to the death of It. Colonel Charlie Squires. She had spent many months being counseled by Liz Gordon. But she had gone on other assignments with the team since then. While the young African-American woman was not as relaxed or go get-'em as the others, Rodgers was certain he could count on her. She would not be here otherwise.

    When they were ready, Rodgers picked up the phone beside the hatch. The copilot informed him that the plane would reach the target in less than five minutes. August lined up his team and stood at their head. After everyone had jumped, Rodgers would follow.

    Since the aircraft was not typically used for jumping, there was no chute line or lights to indicate that they had reached the drop zone.

    August and Pupshaw opened the hatch while Rodgers remained on the phone with the cockpit. The air that surged in was like nothing the general had ever felt. It was a fist of ice, punching them back and then holding them there. Rodgers was glad they had the masks and breathing apparatus.

    Otherwise they would not be able to draw a breath from the unyielding wall of wind. As it was, August and Pupshaw were knocked away from the opening. The colonel and the burly private had to be helped back into position by the next Strikers in line.

    Rodgers moved stern ward along the fuselage, away from the hatch. The howl of the wind was deafening, bordering on painful. It would be impossible to hear the command to jump. The general went back three meters, as far as the phone cord would reach. He used his free hand to cover the left ear of his hood. He pressed down hard. That was the only way he could hear the copilot. Meanwhile, August motioned for each Striker to determine individual jump times by using the "blackout" system. That was the method employed for secret nighttime jumps. It meant putting the right hand on the shoulder of the jumper in front of them. When the shoulder moved out from under someone's hand it was time for that person to go.