Pestilence (Jack Randall #2) (15 page)

Sydney stayed silent until Jack calmed down. “Okay . . . okay, I understand. I’m sorry, I just . . . I just still worry. I thought I’d lost you that night in DC, and I don’t want to go through that again.”

Jack took a deep breath. “No, I’m sorry. You didn’t deserve that. I’ve just had too much coffee and not enough sleep. Let’s just drop it for now. Come on, take a walk with me.” He turned and led her down the aisle between the stacked crates and pallets. He once again put his hands back in his pockets. She followed in silence for a minute before speaking.

“It was nice of you to let Heather go home.”

“I’m having her followed.”

“What? Why?”

“You notice the drugs at the last warehouse?” Jack asked, looking around the warehouse for unseen company as he spoke.

“Yeah. Pallets of them. Why?”

“I noticed one pallet at one end of the room had yellow caps, and another pallet that was partially destroyed at the other end had primarily red caps with a few yellows mixed in.”

“Okay?”

“Well, they both had the same number. No name on the vial, just the number. Heather seemed quite upset that the reds were damaged. I saw her slip some in her pocket before they got cleaned up and boxed.”

“Why?”

“I don’t know. But I can tell you this, the pallets that were destroyed in the ambush were the red top vials. But what bothers me the most is what the major told me before we left.”

“What?”

“The guy who was shot by his own men at the scene? Before he died he told the major who hired them to do the ambush.”

“So, who?”

“The same guys who delivered the medications in the first place. I reviewed the warehouse surveillance tapes. Your dead invisible American was one of the delivery guys.”

Sydney absorbed all this as they walked. Jack kept pace silently, giving her time to think it though.

“What was so special about the red top vials?” she asked.

Jack smiled. “I don’t know, but I aim to find out.”

“How? They were all destroyed.”

“Simple. By giving them to you.” He pulled his hands from his pockets and handed her the vials he had carried for the past few days. “I’m going to be very busy tonight. When we get back to the States, I need you to come up with a way to analyze just what’s in these. Somewhere outside normal channels. I don’t want to use any FBI labs or the CDC. Find somewhere independent. I’ll pay for it out of my pocket. Nobody knows except you, me, and Deacon. Understand?”

“Yes.”

“Notice anything on our little walk here?”

“Like what?”

“There’s a stack of yellow tops over in that corner.” He spun and faced the other end of the room. “And a fresh empty space over in that one.”

Sydney’s mind was racing, but she pulled herself together and just nodded. Jack was passing the ball to her. She wouldn’t drop it.

“Okay, let’s get back before the rumors start flying,” he joked.

She smiled and slipped the vials into her pocket before following him out of the warehouse.

Glaciers a canary in the coal mine of global warming.
August 8, 2009—CNN
 

—TEN—

L
arry watched the screens in front of him while chewing on a toothpick. He had skipped his pain meds so he could concentrate better and his sore ass was keeping him awake and on his feet. Not that the current situation wasn’t stimulating enough.

“Any second now,” Eric said from his position at the conference table.

Larry turned and Eric indicated the third monitor that was showing nothing but static at the moment. It was the satellite feed that would offer them a bird’s-eye view of the action. Eric had been brought in at Jack’s insistence. He had wisely listened to his briefing without a question before immediately working to improve the link and signal of their communications.

Sydney pulled her eyes from the floor long enough to see the screen come to life. It showed a group of three large tents in the middle of the Sudanese bush country. The view went to infrared and several prone figures could be seen inside the tents of the camp while two others seemed to be moving around outside the largest tent. One of them flared briefly in the infrared as he dragged on a cigarette.

“Count hasn’t changed,” Larry observed.

Sydney checked her watch and compared it to the mission clock on the screen. Mission was two minutes ahead. The plan was to hit the camp at 3 a.m. local time, when the body’s circadian rhythm was at its lowest functions. The terrorist would be asleep.

But Jack was awake, as he’d been for over twenty-four hours. What about
his
circadian rhythm? She had watched silently as he and Greg had suited up. The black fatigues, the armor, the boots, knives, guns, and radios. She hated watching it. But she said not a word as she taped up his ankle before it all. His face was a mask and she didn’t want to distract him from what he needed to think about. Now she sat silently in the room, trying not to picture him flying through the dark in that damn helicopter. She had held it together as long as she could as they all watched them load up and leave. He had offered a big reassuring smile as the Blackhawk lifted off the roof of the embassy and she had done her best to return it. Yet the tears had welled up as soon as it disappeared into the night sky. She had turned away, but not before Larry caught a look.

“Just don’t say anything okay? Just don’t . . .” She had walked away and Larry had kept silent.

Now she sat on the floor with her legs drawn to her chin, trying to tell herself Jack would be fine. He has Greg and Murphy with him. The SEALs will have the place safe before they arrive. They have planes and gunships over their heads. He’ll be back in a couple of hours.

Her thoughts were pulled away as she heard radio chatter coming from the screens. She pulled herself up and joined Larry and Eric as they watched.

“There!” Eric pointed.

They looked closely and saw shapes moving through the bush from two different directions. It looked like a choreographed dance as some stopped, only to have others move. Eric pushed a button and the view widened. They could now see two men lying on a rise overlooking the camp.

“Sniper and an observer,” Larry spoke. “Their count is good, too, everyone made the jump okay.”

The groups had slowed and were now approaching the camp in two lines at a snail’s pace. First one stopped and then the other.

“The gunships are orbiting a few miles out. No reports of activity in the area,” Eric voiced.

“Any second now,” Larry whispered.

“The first guard’s cigarette glowed brightly in the screen before a flash from the sniper’s position sent it flying to the right. Another flash from the man closest to the other guard resulted in both of them lying prone in the dirt. The teams immediately moved forward and took up positions surrounding the tents.

“Two, three . . .” Larry spoke.

The tents with the prone figures disappeared as the camera was overloaded by the flash-bang grenades the SEALs used. The picture returned seconds later as the cameras readjusted and they were now looking at a confused picture of shapes moving inside the tents. Muzzle flashes added to the confusion and it was just as quickly over. Figures were seen moving over and around others lying still on the ground and the flashes repeated. Sydney was shocked until Larry explained.

“Cameras.”

Most of the SEALs immediately left the tents and formed a loose circle around the camp as two infrared strobes began blinking just to the south. The sniper and his observer were now aiming themselves out in the opposite direction. Before they could make sense of it, the whole scene was blotted out by a large heat signature. Eric once again adjusted the view and it showed three helicopters flying over and landing just outside the camp. The SEAL perimeter expanded like an amoeba and surrounded them as well.

“There’s Jack,” Sydney croaked.

She followed three figures as they emerged from the smallest helicopter and ran toward the largest tent. They moved about for a full minute before leaving, pausing only for a few seconds at the Jeep parked outside. They then ran for the waiting Blackhawk as the SEAL team collapsed their perimeter into the larger birds. They rose from the ground as one and quickly disappeared from the picture. The satellite picture slowly changed angle as it kept its gaze over the now still camp. The bodies of the first two men already cooling in the camera’s view.

“Less than five minutes,” Larry noted.

“Amazing.”

“It’s not over yet. Watch.”

Their eyes returned to the screen for another minute only to see the view disappear in a large flash. The cameras again swiftly compensated and the view now was one of destruction. The tents were gone, and in their place was a large crater surrounded by burning brush. The telltale shapes of bodies could no longer be discerned.

“Parting gift from the
Reagan,
those Hornet drivers don’t miss.”

“Why?” Eric asked.

“Deniability. All they will know is that a bomb hit them. Now they won’t know if we got their guy alive, or if he’s part of that smoking hole in the ground. Hopefully they chalk it up to a Predator and never clue in on the fact that we got him.”

“Did we?” Sydney asked.

“We’ll know when Jack gets back. You can breathe now, Syd.” Larry offered a grin. She couldn’t help returning it. But she knew she wouldn’t be happy till she saw him get out of that damn helicopter.

•      •      •

Her first sight of him actually made her feel worse. The sun was up by the time they landed on the roof again. As Jack stepped off, Sydney saw that he was covered in blood from chest to waist. He quickly waved her off with a smile, letting her now it wasn’t his.

“Jack, what the hell?” she shouted as the engines shut down, she couldn’t help staring.

“Not mine, Syd, belongs to our friend Ahmed. He made the mistake of reaching for a gun so the shooters had to pop him. He was still alive when I got there, so we pulled him out with us. Other than cursing us all to hell, we didn’t get much out of him before he opted for paradise. We got a lot of intel though. Some good stuff.”

“Good, can we go home now?” she asked.

“Lemme get this bloody gear off and then we can talk.”

“I’m fine, too, by the way!” Greg added.

“Sorry, you guys are all okay?”

“One of the SEALs broke his wrist on the drop, didn’t tell anyone until we were out. Typical. Another one got some flash burns from a grenade he was too eager to follow, but he’ll be fine. Normal cuts and scrapes, but they expect that too,” he answered. “Actually, out of all of us, Jack
looks
the worst.”

She just sighed and shook her head as she followed them down the stairs. They encountered the ambassador in the hallway, but after one look at Jack he turned and retreated into his office.

“I know noth-ing!” Greg did his best Sergeant Shultz impersonation.

“Leave him alone.” Jack smiled.

Sydney waited outside the men’s locker room until Jack emerged. She caught sight of Greg scrubbing blood off his weapon while blood and camouflage paint still streaked his face. Priorities she didn’t understand.

She followed Jack down the hall to the room he had been assigned. She took in his toweled body, still looking for injuries and almost got caught as Jack spun around.

“Can I get dressed?”

“Go ahead, not like I haven’t seen it all before,” she replied with a grin. Jack gave her a look till she turned her back with a smile.

“So now what?” she asked the wall.

“Now, I get dressed. Some coffee, and then Murphy and I go over what we found. Then I plan on some food and a long nap.”

“No coffee.”

“All right, no coffee. But if that’s your plan you better get all that stuff bagged and filed as soon as possible. The sooner we get it to the labs, the sooner we have more answers. If you can make it all portable, we can evaluate it on the plane.”

“Deal. Why don’t you take a quick nap while I process all that stuff. You shouldn’t handle it until I do anyway?” She chanced a look over her shoulder. Jack sat on the bed in a pair of BDU pants. Clearly tired, he seemed to be thinking it over.

“Okay. Twenty minutes, no more. Then we go over everything.” He lay back and put his bare feet up on his duffle bag.

“Okay, I’ll wake you.”

“I’m serious, Syd, twenty minutes.”

“Okay! I promise.”

He had closed his eyes and slowed his breathing so she moved to leave the room. Before she made it to the hallway he stopped her with a question.

“What happened to Heather?”

“She caught a flight out last night to Madrid.”

“All right . . . and send Eric to wake me up. I have something I need him to do for me.”

“Okay.” She waited for a follow-up but got a snore instead. She indulged herself with another look before she retreated down the hall.

•      •      •

“You’re sure?” Kimball asked.

“Yes, they cleared the warehouse out and sent everything to the safe house. We’ll have to distribute it though other channels. Only the yellows remain.”

“Good, did they question you?”

“No, I thought he was going to, but he just moved on. They had other things on their minds. I think we’re safe. As far as I know they never even went into the warehouse.”