The Lives of Tao (44 page)

“Small solace,” he muttered as he stuck his fork into a piece of potato and lifted it to his mouth.

Feeding you well is the least we can do.
 

“Is that some kind of rule? Never kill people on an empty stomach?”

If it is not, it should be.
 

Roen sighed. “I never dreamed my life would come to this.”

Your life will be whatever you make of it. You always lamented about wanting to get out of that... what did you call it, middle-class rat race? Well, now you are making a difference. Is this not what you always dreamed of?
 

“You know what that taught me? To be careful of what I wish for. I should have spent all that mental energy dreaming of a Brazilian lingerie model instead. Think of how much happier I would be.”

I am glad you still have your sense of humor.
 

“Who says I’m joking?”

Well, I would rather you be with a Brazilian lingerie model instead of being here as well. Does that make you feel better?
 

“Surprisingly, it does. Shows you’re not all work and no play.”

You sound like a bitter girlfriend. You never take me anywhere. You are not funny. You are not romantic. You do not buy me things.
 

Roen chuckled. “I do feel like a bitter girlfriend.”

Really? Is that what you think of me?
 

“Well, everyone tells me you’re a hard-ass. I mean, just look at Yol and Paula. It’s like they’re having a party in her head every day.”

You do realize that Paula is highly trained and very experienced. She has been involved with us for a decade now. Yol has it easy. He moved into a penthouse while I got a fixer-upper. You needed my hard-ass-ness.
 

“I’m a fixer-upper?”

Actually, you were a complete demolition and rebuild.
 

“That would be insulting if I didn’t know it was true. Was I that bad?”

You want me to be honest?
 

“No, lie to me.”

You were a natural.
There was a pause before Tao spoke again.
But I have to say, Roen, I am extremely proud of you. You have come unbelievably far and become a fine agent.
 

“Like Edward Blair fine?”

Keep aiming high. It is hard to be Edward Blair fine.
 

“So everyone tells me.”

“Excuse me, sir?” A lieutenant walked up to him.

Roen looked up from his meal. “Yes?”

“Admiral Abrams is requesting all personnel report to the launch deck. We’re deploying in ten.”

Roen leaned over the side and hurled his dinner into the dark depths of the Mediterranean Sea. The skiff bounced up and down over the thick waves like a bronco trying to buck him off. He wiped his mouth and sat back down in his seat. Around him, the men in his squad looked as if nothing happened. Morgan, Roen’s second in command, leaned over. “You all right, sir?”

“Just a little seasickness.” Roen retched.

They might have believed that if you had not vomited before we launched.
 

“Well, this boat ride isn’t helping matters much. Are we almost there?”

0400. Any minute now.
 

Roen watched the other two skiffs skim along the water. Watching them move around made the nausea creep back up his throat. His skiff banked sharply to the right, throwing him toward the far side. He almost lost the rest of his dinner right there. Roen tried to take his mind off the waters by going over the tactics in his head. With Jill and Sonya’s lives on the line, there was no room for error.

Moments later the captain gave the signal to cut the motors. The skiffs went dark as their forward momentum carried them quietly to shore. The men began preparing for the landing, checking gear, supplies, and ammunition. When the skiffs neared the edge of the water, they jumped out and waded the rest of the way. The groups separated into their teams while Stephen gave last-minute instructions to the commanders.

Roen looked up at the mountain in front of him and then at the sky. It was a pitch-black night, which offered plenty of cover, but would make traversing the mountain very treacherous. Thunder rumbled in the distance; rain could make the climb even more dangerous than the Genjix.

After the last-minute instructions were finished, the teams began the long trek up the mountain, each taking a different path. Roen’s team was assigned to the ventilation shaft, the highest but safest point of entry. They filed into a loose line and moved at a brisk pace up the mountain. Roen looked back one last time as the rest of the invasion force disappeared into the thick foliage.

“How did the Genjix build this fort? From the photos, it seems carved into the mountain.”

They did not build it. The Germans built it during the war as a secret V-2 rocket research lab. They thought putting it in Italy would keep the Allies from bombing it. Only a few in the Nazi high command knew of its existence. It was very top secret. An accident in 1943 caused a cave-in that sealed it off. We moved in during the Cold War.
 

“If it was so secret, how did
we know about it?”

We had people in the Nazi high command.
 

Roen almost stopped walking, shocked. “We were Nazis?”

As were the Genjix. We were many things. Some we were proud of, others not so much. One of us was the centurion who crucified Jesus of Nazareth. Another of us helped design the atomic bomb. Several of us sacked Carthage.
 

“So why didn’t you guys do something about the Nazis?”

We tried, and failed. Nazi fascism was the brainchild of a certain Genjix named Zoras. We had people in the government, but he arranged to have them all removed.
 

“Is there anyone in the current administration?”

In the cabinet, as a matter of fact.
 

“Really? Then why doesn’t he do something about the Middle East?”

She is doing something about the Middle East. But we have to be careful not to blow her cover. Our influence needs to be subtle.
 

“I guess. Have you been to this place before?”

It used to be our Eastern European command center until we moved after the Cold War. All the execs were getting annoyed with having to make the trip to the middle of nowhere. Then the Genjix moved in.
 

“Where did you move our headquarters to?”

Prague.
 

“That doesn’t seem like a great place to have a secret headquarters.”

It makes traveling a lot more convenient. Secret headquarters are so last century. We just bought a building and took over the top offices. Welcome to the new millennium.
 

“Why is it called Capulet’s Ski Lodge?”

The Keeper likes to name our bases after references from her old plays.
 

The rough path they were following became more difficult. Roen did not have much experience with this terrain but was determined not to show his uneasiness.

“How is our progress so far?” he asked as he moved up alongside Morgan. He knew the commander was in control of the situation, but Roen was still the ranking officer and intended to lead them as much as he could.

“We’re five minutes behind schedule, sir,” Morgan said in his no-nonsense way. “But that is expected, considering the conditions, and allowances have been padded into our mission timetable.”

“Make up the time,” Roen said anxiously.

“Of course, sir,” Morgan replied. He signaled the men, and they picked up the pace. If the mission went as planned, the other four teams would have already engaged the Genjix by the time Echo team penetrated the interior of the base. With the attention on the front of the base, his team would surprise the Genjix from the rear. The upside of this assignment was that they would most likely meet the least resistance. The downside was they had no path of retreat.

They reached the apex on schedule. Stephen and the rest of their forces should already be in place by now. Radio silence kept them from communicating until the first shot was fired. Morgan took out the map and spread it on the ground. The men gathered around to cover the small light he was using. He compared the coordinates on their GPS to the map and nodded to Roen. This had to be the right spot.

Roen looked around. He did not see anything remotely resembling this ventilation shaft. One of the men tapped him on the shoulder and pointed up. The ventilation shaft was about ten meters above them, jutting from a sheer cliff. Roen began to look for another way up when he noticed two of the men unpacking climbing gear.

“We anticipated this,” Morgan said. “There will only be a small delay while we rappel up.”

Roen sighed and shook his head. Morgan might have thought Roen was just being irritable, but the real reason was because he hated heights. Walking up a mountain was one thing, but rappelling up it was another matter entirely.

Before long, the two men had scaled those ten meters and were at the top of the cliff, using some sort of grappling gun. Once there, they set up a pulley system to pull the others up. One of the last to ascend, Roen closed his eyes and tried to keep his cool. He did not want to appear weak in front of the men. Thankfully, the trip up was short. In mere minutes, they were all huddled around the metal shaft while one man used wire cutters to cut through the grating. Roen looked over and tapped his watch. Morgan nodded in return. They were still on schedule.

“Tao, do you think there might be traps in the shaft? Like wired bombs or mines?”

Doubtful. Birds fly in here all the time. Besides, if they blow up the main ventilation shaft, how is anyone going to breathe down there?
 

“I didn’t think of that.”

Good thing I am here to think for you.
 

In a matter of minutes, they had cut a man-sized hole through the shaft and bent in the rest of the covering. Another agent took out a small box and handed out something that looked like large fuzzy slippers to each of them. Roen frowned at the slippers in his hands.

“What is this for?”

Put them over your shoes. It will dampen the sound of your footsteps in the metal shaft.
 

“Wow, we think of everything.”

We have been in the breaking and entering craft for a long time now.
 

“Infiltration craft, you mean.”

Welcome to the family business.
 

They filed in one by one, silently moving through the large shaft. It was surprisingly clean. Roen looked down to see his gun strap swaying back and forth. There must be a fan that was pulling the wind into the base. They continued as the shaft split into a few smaller side paths. They ignored most of them, following some predetermined route through the confusing metal maze. Roen could probably wander around in circles for hours without knowing which way to go.

“Do you know where we’re going?”

Did you fall asleep during the briefing?
 

“No, but we’ve made so many turns.”

I can get us back to the entrance if that is what you are asking.
 

“Good, because I’m completely lost.”

The humming became louder the deeper they traveled through the shaft; they must be near the generator. The point man held up a fist and illuminated with his flashlight a metal grate in front of them. The rest of the squad stopped and knelt down.

“Is that the drop-off point?” Roen whispered to Morgan.

Morgan took out the GPS and checked the coordinates. He nodded. Immediately, the men began to shed any excess gear they were wearing. From this point on, it was guns and ammunition only.

Roen stared at the grate. This was the point of no return. During the meeting, Intelligence had estimated that there most likely could be up to two hundred personnel. That was twice their number, but hopefully with their element of surprise, it would be enough.

Two men picked up the heavy grate and moved it to the side. Another agent took out a small probe and scanned the room below. When he finished, he moved to Roen and Morgan to report his findings. “It’s the back storeroom, all right; no heat signatures, just boxes and crates. No motion detectors or cameras either. We’re looking at a six-meter drop to the floor.”

“Shouldn’t the other squads have started by now?” Roen asked. “We should have heard shots.”

“There might have been some delays getting into position. We all move when Stephen’s team is ready,” Morgan said. “But this is our go-no-go point. Get the rope ready to drop down but we won’t move unt...”