MAC WALKER'S BENGHAZI: The Complete Collection (7 page)

“Any casualties?”

“Affirmative – but the team is fine.”

Mac could sense Tilley’s indecision over the phone.

“Ok…give me thirty minutes. Hold on and call me again in thirty minutes.”

Tilley hung up, leaving Mac to wonder what Tilley could come up with in thirty minutes that would bail his team out of a situation thousands of miles away in Benghazi, Libya.

“What did he say Mac?”

Mac looked over at Minnick, who was calmly cleaning his glasses as he asked the question.

“He said he wanted me to call him back in thirty minutes.”

Minnick’s brow furrowed as he considered Mac’s words.

“Why have us wait thirty minutes? Why doesn’t he call as soon as he has an option in place for us?”

Minnick said what Mac had been thinking. Tilley’s response felt like a stall. Mac had intentionally avoided telling him their current location. Tilley was smart though, smart enough to guess that Mac would return their van to the location that offered them the most cover – the airport.

Mac’s eyes scanned the vehicles around them. A plane similar to the one they had arrived in was preparing for take off no more than a hundred yards from where they were parked. In just a couple more hours, the place would be crawling with people as the day’s business was fully underway. The bodies of the five men and Angelo had likely already been discovered. The van that had been left in the street was the same one they were sitting in now. They were common to this airport. That meant it would be the first place the authorities would go looking.

They needed to move.

“Ok, you three stay put. I’m gonna find us different transportation.”

Mac left the van, walking between vehicles as he searched for one that would allow them to drive into the main part of the city undetected, something without a United Nations badge on it. Some three hundred feet inside the airport’s main entrance, Mac spotted four empty taxis parked alongside a row of white single wide trailers. The vehicles were basic black four door sedans with the words “Benghazi Comfort Taxi” prominently displayed on each side. Mac figured if there were already four of the taxis parked here this early in the morning, the city streets would be teeming with them within the hour.

The first taxi was locked, as was the second. The driver’s door of the third taxi opened and Mac spotted a single key hanging from the ignition.

Bingo.

The car started easily, though Mac could smell the body odor of its regularly assigned driver. Whoever it was, they needed to invest in a hell of a lot more deodorant. Pulling the car away from the other three, Mac drove it slowly toward the parked United Nations van where his team waited.

He left the car running as he stepped back outside and motioned for Jack, Benny, and Minnick to get into the taxi. Mac’s eyes scanned the area to see if anyone had noticed them. The airport remained relatively quiet even as Mac spotted what appeared to be an approaching passenger jet approaching from the skies.

“Ok – let’s go.”

The taxi left the airport without incident and within minutes Mac was driving around a massive roundabout, his taxi one of more than a dozen matching vehicles doing the same. Mac’s phone rang – it was Tilley. He hadn’t waited for Mac to call after all.

“Are you on the move?”

Mac considered the question, then lied.

“No - the airport.”

“Ok…listen carefully. Hadaik – Area Fifteen. Villa Four. Only one of you enters. Ask to speak to Ella. We’re still operational. Do you understand? We’re ok. Ella will take you to where you need to go. Call to confirm when you get there.”

Tilley hung up, leaving Mac to ponder if he should follow the instructions and drive to the address given.

“He wants us to head out to Hadaik, Area Fifteen, Villa Four. Meet a woman named Ella. Says we’re still operational. Give me some feedback boys. What do you think?”

Minnick, sitting in the passenger seat, was the first to respond to Mac.

“We do it. I thought about what Jack and Benny said. Until we know for sure otherwise, we have to trust Tilley Mac.”

Mac punched in the address given to him by Tilley into the taxi’s dashboard GPS. They were seven miles from the location. Outside, the streets of Benghazi were quickly becoming increasingly congested. Seven miles in this traffic was going to take some time.

“Three cars back. Black SUV.”

Mac’s eyes looked in his rear view mirror, following Benny’s description. A large, American-made SUV was in fact three cars behind them, its darkened windows making it impossible to see its occupants.

The taxi shot forward, passing several cars on the right side as Mac pushed down hard on its accelerator while watching to see how the SUV would react.

“Definitely following us Mac.”

The SUV moved quickly to the left side of the road, coming within inches of hitting several other vehicles as it neared their taxi. Whoever was driving it was well trained.

Mac moved the taxi back to the center lane and slowed down again, trying to keep at least one other vehicle between them and the SUV. The GPS indicated they were still six miles from the address Tilley had given them.

“To hell with this.”

Mac mashed the taxi’s accelerator all the way to the floor, swerving between several other vehicles before veering off onto a side street. The car’s engine howled in protest as its speedometer indicated nearly eighty miles an hour.

“Still there Mac - hundred yards and closing.”

Both Benny and Jack had drawn their handguns as they looked out the taxi’s back window.

Mac kept the accelerator to the floor as they approached nearly a hundred miles an hour.

“Hold on.”

The taxi’s tires screamed against the pavement as Mac pulled the wheel hard to the left and onto another side street, barely missing a row of parked vehicles and causing Mac to almost lose control as he frantically pulled the taxi back toward the center of the street.

Jack’s Alabama drawl called out from the back seat.

“Hey! Keep it on the road badass.”

Mac responded to Jack’s quip by raising his right middle finger as his foot again slammed down on the accelerator.

“On your right Mac, forty yards - dumpsters.”

Mac saw where Minnick was pointing to. A row of ten or so large green metallic dumpsters. The SUV could no longer be seen directly behind them as Mac pulled the taxi directly behind the dumpsters and slammed on the brakes, bringing the car to a sudden stop.

Only a few seconds passed before the SUV was spotted driving slowly down the street Mac had just pulled off of. As the SUV began to pass the dumpsters, Mac put the taxi in reverse and inched the car backwards, always keeping the dumpsters between them and the SUV’s line of sight until the SUV had finally passed them completely as it continued heading down the street.

“Nice driving Louisiana.”

Mac chuckled at Jack’s compliment.

“Thanks Alabama.”

IX.

Mac waited another few minutes to make certain the SUV didn’t return, and then proceeded to drive back onto the main roadway and toward the address Tilley had instructed them to arrive at. Ten minutes later, they arrived at a squat white building with a single palm tree that loomed over the right side of the aging structure. A sign hung over the door that read, “Libyan Media Freedom Network”. An older, tan Mercedes 300 was the only vehicle parked in front of the building.

Minnick pointed toward the palm tree.

“They have a security camera just to the left of the tree, half inch security bars across the two windows, and the door looks to be a newer Ceco model. Whatever this place is, they’ve taken precautions to protect the people inside.”

Mac parked the taxi in an alley about three hundred feet away from the tan Mercedes. That way if the SUV that had been following them found it, their location inside the Libyan Media Freedom Network building would be difficult to determine. There were at least another seven buildings within similar distance from the parked taxi.

“I need you three to set up a perimeter shield, nearest one to be no more than sixty feet from the entrance. Want one of you within eyesight of this location here. If that SUV comes back and checks out the taxi, I want to know who we are dealing with – are they Libyans, CIA, whatever.”

Jack offered to remain near the taxi, while Benny and Minnick took locations nearer the parked Mercedes as Mac began to walk toward the building’s entrance. He paused to allow the security camera plenty of time to see him before pushing a small white intercom button housed just to the left of the door. Minnick had been right – it was an almost brand new Ceco security door.

“I’m here to see Ella.”

A short buzzing sound emitted from the top of the door frame, indicating Mac could now pull the door open. Just inside the door was a small six by six room where another door matching the one outside was located directly in front of where Mac stood. Another security camera was housed in the upper right corner of the small room.

“Who sent you?”

The voice came from a small intercom placed in the low ceiling just above Mac’s head.

“Tilley.”

The second door opened, leading to a surprisingly well lit and expensively furnished waiting area. Two armed men dressed in matching black dress shirts and khakis stood approximately six feet apart from each other looking back at Mac. They each carried X95 assault rifles, perhaps the most common weapon of choice for Israeli Special Forces. It was a weapon that carried light, but still packed a serious punch, allowing fully automatic, thirty two round capabilities.

Each of the men was slightly taller than Mac, and at least ten years younger. Their dark eyes regarded Mac without emotion, a sign of a well trained soldier.

Mac heard heeled steps approaching from a hallway that opened up from the back left of the room from which emerged a blonde woman of medium height and athletic build. She appeared to be no more than forty years of age, with a somewhat long and narrow face, full lips, and wide, dark eyes that sat under high arching brows. Her hair fell casually over her shoulders as she stopped to look at Mac.

“Mr. Walker?”

She spoke his real name, proving to Mac she was in fact in contact with Tilley. Mac nodded his head once back at her.

“Please follow me Mr. Walker.”

The woman turned and walked back down the hallway from which she had emerged, her steps quick and confident, requiring Mac to move swiftly to catch up. She opened the second door they passed on the right side of the hallway and entered what appeared to be a conference room. It contained a long black metallic desk with a glass top, and several matching black chairs. Unlike the reception area, no other furnishings were in the room, and no artwork hung from the walls.

“Take a seat Mr. Walker.”

Mac sat on one side of the table as the woman took a seat opposite him.

“Do you know who I am?”

Mac shook his head.

“No idea – just following the directions Tilley gave me. Care to say how much you know about me?”

The woman’s mouth curled into a slight smile. Though her features were somewhat hard, Mac found her attractive in a she-can-kick-the-shit-out-of-somebody kind of way.

“I know almost as little about you as you do me, Mr. Walker. What I do know is that you are in a bit of difficulty since arriving in Benghazi. I also know that I owe your Mr. Tilley a favor. This help I am now providing you is payment for that debt.”

Mac finally placed her accent – like the weapons in the reception room, she was Israeli.

“Whatever help you can provide is appreciated. Right now, we still don’t have any real idea what the hell we’re doing here.”

“As you were told, my name is Ella. This building you now sit in is a media center…of sorts.”

Mac smiled.

“Of course…of sorts.”

“We will provide you transport to your safe house Mr. Walker. What you find there, I cannot tell you. Once that transport has been completed, I ask that you not return here. Our business, such that it is, will have been completed. Do you understand?”

The door to the conference room opened, followed by one of the two armed men from the reception room stepping inside. Though the man’s voice remained calm and measured, Mac noted his eyes betrayed concern.

“Two vehicles outside Ella. Black SUVs. They appear to be securing the perimeter.”

Ella’s eyes burned into Mac.

“You were followed?”

Mac nodded.

“Yeah – thought we had lost them though.”

Ella tilted her head to the side as her eyebrows raised.

“It appears you didn’t do such a good job of that Mr. Walker. Do you have men outside?”

Mac glanced at the armed man and then looked back at Ella.

“Three. They’re armed with handguns.”

Ella leaned over the table, her voice coming out in a seething whisper.