The Detachment (40 page)

“The area looks like eighty percent farmland and fields,” I said. “Lots of room for privacy. If your friend can’t give us a fix on Gillmor’s cell phone, we’re going to have a hell of a time finding him.”

“I’m working on it,” Kanezaki said grimly. “In the meantime, let’s see if can figure out from these maps where we would set up if we were Gillmor.”

We spent the rest of the flight refining our plan and getting some much needed sleep. When we landed, it was evening, and though residual heat still radiated from the tarmac as we got off the plane, the day was getting cooler. We pulled on baseball caps and sunglasses just in case anyone was looking for us all the way out in Lincoln. “Only way to travel,” Dox said, the SR-25 bag slung over his shoulder as we headed to the car rental to get Kanezaki’s promised van.

We picked up food, then drove out to the school. The sun was getting low in a blue, cloudless sky that went on forever, and even in the van, the air smelled of cut grass.

The school was on the edge of town, an area that was mostly single family houses, with a few farms and a single mixed office and retail center. I thought the plotters might have chosen the school for its relative remoteness: fewer potential witnesses to describe aspects of the carnage the plotters didn’t want seen.

A little farther out, we passed a construction site. Dox said, “Hang on, I like the look of this.”

We circled around and drove back through the plume of dust we’d kicked up on the road behind us. “Doesn’t look like much is happening here,” Dox said.

He was right. There was no equipment and no material, just a four-story I-beam and cinderblock skeleton without even a chain-link fence around it. No windows in place, no roof, no doors.

“I believe what we’re looking at,” Dox said, “is an abandoned building site, popularly known as a victim of America’s ongoing recession. Also known as an ideal urban sniper hide. Look at that—line-of-sight to the front of the school, two-hundred yards. Easy pickings. I’d like to go in when it’s dark and confirm, but I believe we just found my place. What time are our terrorists due to arrive?”

“The assembly’s at eight forty-five,” Kanezaki said. “So probably just after that.”

“Well then, I propose we insert me at zero three hundred, the still of the night. I’ll zero the rifle at first light. Won’t be many people around, and the suppressor will reduce the sound some. You didn’t bring a sleeping bag, did you?”

“Shit, no,” Kanezaki said. “I didn’t think of it.”

“That’s all right, I’m sure there’s a Wal-Mart around here. I’ll pick up some thermal hunting gear and a foam pad to prone out on. Watch the sunrise, it’ll be nice.”

We got Dox his gear, and went back to the building site after dark. Dox went in, and reported that he liked what he found. Then he and Treven, who looked the most at home in the area, checked us into an anonymous highway motel, two adjoining rooms on the second of two floors. We ate and checked the gear and went over our plans. Kanezaki used a satellite phone to call his telephone company friend. Apparently, Gillmor had his phone on the day before in Lincoln, but it was off now.

“If we can’t locate him,” I said, “the op’s blown.”

Kanezaki nodded. “I’ll have to call in a bomb threat. Get them to evacuate the school. But all that does is divert the attack. And next time, we might not know what school.”

We were all quiet. I knew we all felt like we had to stop this. And we knew if we couldn’t stop it here, we probably couldn’t stop it at all.

Kanezaki said, “What about Horton?”

“What about him?” I said.

“I know he stepped down, but he’s still got contacts. Maybe he knows something, or could find out. Can you call him?”

“He might not be well inclined to us just now,” Larison said.

I thought about the secure site message. “No, I think you’re wrong about that. But I’ve reached the point where I wouldn’t trust anything he tells me.”

Larison smiled. “Better late than never.”

“What can it hurt?” Kanezaki said. “Use my sat phone. No way to triangulate on its location.”

I thought for a moment. He was right—it was hard to see the harm. But Horton had lied to me and set us up. I felt like I had nothing to say to him. I didn’t even plan on letting him live when this was all over.

But that was stupid. Tactics first. “All right, give me the phone,” I said.

Horton picked up so fast, he might have been waiting for the call. “Horton.”

“You wanted me to call you.”

“Thank God you did. I was getting ready to call the Lincoln police with a bomb threat. But that wouldn’t stop the attack, it would—”

“Only divert it, I know.”

“Please tell me you’re there. And you’re going to stop this thing.”

“The last time you figured out where I was going to be, you sent four shooters.”

“That was, bar none, the biggest mistake of my life.”

I imagined the sentiment was heartfelt. Not that it mattered. “How did you track us there?” I said, thinking about Treven.

“National technical means.”

Maybe it was true. I had no way of knowing. I wasn’t even sure why I’d bothered asking. It just felt like a loose end, and it bothered me.

“If you’re in Lincoln,” he said, “I want to help. Anyway I can.”

“We’re here,” I said, hating that I was giving him the satisfaction.

“Good.”

“So is Gillmor.”

“Yes, I know.”

“I need to know where. His cell phone is turned off. Do you have any way of tracking him?”

There was a pause, then, “Let me make some calls. How can I reach you?”

“I’ll call you.”

“Thank you,” he said, and I clicked off.

Nobody slept. At three in the morning, Kanezaki drove Dox out to the building site. I called Horton. He still hadn’t found anything. Kanezaki’s phone company friend told him Gillmor’s phone was still dark. I started to feel very bleak. It wasn’t just that we weren’t going to be able to stop the attack. It was that I was going to feel responsible for setting it all in motion.

I resolved that, no matter how this turned out and no matter how long I had to wait, Horton was going to die. It was thin, and I supposed in the end it wouldn’t really matter, but the thought was distracting, at least, and mildly comforting. It helped me drift off for a while.

W
hen it started getting light outside, I called Horton again, expecting the worst.

“Good news,” he said.

I tried not to get my hopes up. “What?”

“That drone. The Viper. When it’s powered up, it navigates by GPS. It has to uplink to the satellite. So—”

“We’ll know where it took off from.”

“Correct. I have a friend in the NRO who is watching for that signal and that signal alone. As soon as we have the coordinates, I will get them to you.”

“We might not have much time. We don’t even know for sure that he’s going to be in the Lincoln area.”

“I know. But we should be all right. The Viper can loiter for a whole day. I doubt Gillmor wants to run it for that long, but he doesn’t have to wait until the very last minute, either. My guess is, he’ll have it up at least an hour before the shooters go in. That’ll allow him some wiggle room in case he has any mechanical or other problems. But I need to be able to reach you.”

I gave him Kanezaki’s sat phone number, glad I didn’t have to give him a cell. “I’ll be in a car,” I said. “Call me as soon as you know.”

I told the others, then used the commo to raise Dox. “Hey,” I said. “I’m not waking you, am I?”

He chuckled. “I like when you tease me. What’s going on?”

I told him.

“Well, that’s good,” he said, sounding mildly pleased—mildly pleased, I knew from experience, being his only affect when he was in his sniping zone, no matter what the news he was reacting to.

“How’s the view?” I said.

“Pretty in this light. I can see everything.”

“You’re on the roof?”

“One floor down. Doubt anyone could see me from overhead, but why take chances?”

“All right, good hunting.”

“You, too, partner. If you don’t take out that drone, my good work will be wasted. And I don’t think Treven and Larison will be happy, either.”

What he meant is that Treven and Larison, on the ground at the school, would be well within the Hellfire blast radius, and therefore incinerated. Along with God knew how many children.

“Yeah, I’ve thought about that.”

“Okay. No pressure or anything.”

“Right. I’ll talk to you as soon as we know more.”

We pulled on the Dragon Skin vests, and set out at a little before eight. We would have liked to get in position earlier, but outside Dox’s sniper hide, concealment and blending opportunities were scarce. Strange men loitering outside a school tend to draw attention. The good news was, the shooters faced the same problem.

While Kanezaki drove, we all checked the gear one last time. Good to go. We dropped off Treven and Larison a few blocks from the school. They were wearing jeans and tee shirts and baseball caps. With the gym bags in which they were carrying the HKs, they easily could have been a couple of locals on their way to a job in a hardware store or at a construction site. We wished each other good luck, and no one said what was really on our minds: if I didn’t hear from Horton soon, we were going to have to come up with a hell of a Plan B.

But we did hear from him, ten minutes later. “We got him,” he said, with uncharacteristic excitement. “Not in Lincoln, but close by. Tiny town called Palmyra. Spelled Palm, Yankee, Romeo, Alpha. Nothing but farmland. You have a navigation system?”

“Yes. Give me the coordinates.”

He did. I input the information. “Twenty-five miles,” I said to Kanezaki. “Keep going on Route 2. I’ll tell you when to turn.”

He punched it. “Watch your speed,” I said. “Can’t afford to get pulled over.”

“If we get chased, we get chased,” he said, and I supposed at this point it was true.

“What else can you tell me?” I said to Hort.

“It’s obvious Gillmor chose the spot for proximity to the school but also for privacy. Most of the area is flat, and not well suited for the clandestine launch of a drone, but he’s at the end of a dirt road. Looks like an abandoned granary or something, in a depression by a pond and surrounded by trees. He could put the drone up there, get it up high, and I doubt anyone would ever see it. It’ll reach the school without ever passing over anything but fields and farmland.”

“How long is the dirt road?”

“A little under a quarter mile.”

I wasn’t going to approach using the obvious route, let alone one as likely as a road. “Other points of ingress?”

“None. But the fields look perfectly crossable.”

“You’re looking at the satellite photos. What’s my best point of access?”

“Drive east of the road and go in by foot. That’ll put you on the other side of the granary, and should give you some cover and concealment. I imagine Gillmor is armed.”

“All right, I’ll let the rest of the team know. Call me if there’s a change.”

“Roger that.”

“Oh, and Horton?”

“Yes?”

“If this is another setup, you better kill every last one of us. Because if there’s even one left, he will find you.”

There was a pause. “I don’t expect to live long in any event, but yes, understood. And good luck.”

I clicked off. Kanezaki had the van up to nearly a hundred. I was glad the road was flat and straight, but I thought the van might tear itself apart en route regardless.

“Okay,” I said, using the commo, “that was Horton. We’ve got a fix on Gillmor. Kanezaki and I are on the way, ETA fifteen minutes. Assuming we don’t crash first.”

“I’m in position,” Treven said. “Teachers are arriving. And some kids. Cop at the front entrance.”

“In position,” Larison said. “Dox, you there?”

“Not only am I here,” Dox said, in his serene sniper voice, “but I’m looking at you at this very moment right through my little reticled scope. I’m glad we worked out all our animosity earlier, aren’t you?”

There was no answer. Dox said, “Hey, man, I’m just kidding.”

“Goddamn it, don’t kid like that!” I said, fearing another eruption, hoping my intervention would placate Larison.

We hit a pothole and the van almost went into orbit. “Jesus!” I said, pulling my seatbelt tighter.

Kanezaki, serene as Dox, said, “Sorry.”

He kept it pinned until we turned off the two-lane, and by the time we came to the dirt road to the granary, he had it under the speed limit. We kept going for another quarter mile, and then he pulled over to the side in a dip in the road. “I’m not waiting in the van,” he said. “And we don’t have time to argue about it.”

He was probably right. “Okay,” I said. “Stay to my left as we approach. When we get to the granary, you circle left, I’ll circle right. Let me engage Gillmor first, okay?”

“Why?”

“It’s not about the glory. If the drone’s still on the ground, we can just shoot him, or you can, it doesn’t matter to me. But if the drone’s up, we have to try to make him bring it back, right?”

“That’s a good point.”

“Yeah, I try to think of things like that.”

“Okay, you engage him first.”