Trinity: Military War Dog (23 page)

Camp Eggers, Kabul, Afghanistan

A
ll the demons of war must have him on their hit list. He’d made an impact here, saved thousands of lives from burning in hell. And the immortal beasts wanted him gone. His grandfather, Woundedknee Burnett, would’ve told him it was the spirits. But his grandmother, who’d drawn the grouchy ol’ Cherokee from his reservation with her blue eyes and firm Christian faith, would’ve said he was right. The demons wanted to stop the Kingdom from advancing.

Right now, Lance didn’t care who he was fighting as long as he won. With a four-man crew, he stalked down the long corridor that bisected the large building. Ahead stood General Early and his entourage.

Lance offered a salute. “General.”

Early did the same. “Sorry about your adventure in that village.”

“Comes with the territory. Had things to take care of, someone got a lucky hit in.” He shrugged as he motioned to the steel door marked with a number 5. “So, we’re both here now. What’ve you got?”

General Early nodded to one of his lieutenants, who swiped a badge down a reader. The light swam from red to green with a quiet beep before he tugged open the door and stepped aside.

“I tell you, this is the darndest thing. About zero-two-hundred, I wake up to the guard dogs going berserk, MPs shouting, and soon after Lieutenant Zeferelli here”—Early stabbed a finger at the lieutenant who’d accessed the room—“is banging down my door.”

Lance smiled at the L-T who ducked, nerves jangled. “Don’t you know privates have been sent to Leavenworth for less?”

The man’s stiff composure softened beneath the joke. “Yes, sir. I’ve heard that, General, sir.”

Lance laughed. “Get hold of those nerves, Zeferelli, or you’ll wet yourself.” He couldn’t help but grin at the red spreading through the young man’s face. “Go on.”

Zeferelli looked to Early like a good dog. “Well.” He licked his lips. “MPs rang my room, said they had a Chinese national. Three, in fact.”

“And why would this news alarm you so much that you’d interrupt the precious sleep of your base commander?”

“Because, sir, the men asked for General Early by name.”

“And every Afghan and Taliban terrorist roaming this godforsaken area knows that name.”

“Yes, sir. But they don’t know yours.”

Lance stilled, listening to the whir of the minimal heating unit battling the exterior elements to afford a minuscule degree of warmth. “Come again?” His presence here wasn’t common knowledge. He’d made sure with his delicate work of protecting operations and operatives.

“He asked for you. By name, sir. Said he would not talk to anyone but you.”

“I thought he asked for Early.”

The L-T nodded again. “Actually, his words to the MPs were, ‘Tell General Early that if he wants to stop an international incident to get General Burnett here.’”

What was he saying about those demons earlier? “You gotta be kidding me,” Lance said to General Early.

Shorter, grayer, and more wrinkled, the man fooled a lot of grunts with his size and age. “You been dancing with the wrong man’s daughter again?”

Lance would’ve laughed at the memory, but this wasn’t the time. He eyed his friend as they stepped into a monitoring room. Through the one-way glass, he found their guest.

And for one second, one painful, past-hurtling-to-the-present second, his heart stopped. Then his Catholic faith rushed up his throat in a hoarse prayer, “Sweet Mother of God …”

“My son! My son is still there.”

“We’ll get him out.”

“No!” The man buried his head in his hands, sobbing. Finally, he hung his head, shaking it. “You cannot—they will be watching him. Watching his every move. If they suspect, they will kill him.”

“I can get him. I’ll do it myself.”

“No, no, you cannot.” The man lowered his head, and he slumped in the hard plastic chair. He wept. “He told me—” A shudder severed his words. “He say, ‘They watching me. If we all go, we die.’”

“What was that?”

General Burnett dropped into the rickety, creaking chair at the table stretched before the rectangular window. He picked up the shattered pieces of the past and cleared his throat. Put on his game face. A handful of people were privy to that mission. But nobody in this room. “What do you know about him?”

Zeferelli lifted a hand in defeat. “Name, rank—only by his uniform.”

Lance nodded, his gaze skimming the PLA uniform. The rank on the shoulder. The gold aiguillette. But the one thing he couldn’t tear his gaze away from was the familiar eyes.

“We’ve spent the last few hours digging up information while we waited for your arrival. His name is Colonel Zheng Haur,” Lieutenant Zeferelli said, his dark hair rimming a young face. “According to our brief research, he is the personal aide to General Zheng, the minister of defense.”

Why on earth would Zheng put Haur into enemy hands? Lance had tried to send in operatives to retrieve this young man, convince him to switch sides, but nothing—
nothing
—could draw him out. Because General Zheng had so thoroughly brainwashed and leashed him.

So what changed? Were they seeking revenge?

His breath backed into his throat—did they know Darci’s location?

No. No way they could know she was in country.

Or had Zheng sent Haur to prove his allegiance once again? Unfortunately, Lance couldn’t share what he knew with anyone in this room, or the next. Forbidden territory, all of it.

But … could he snatch this kid? Have him vanish from this very building and disappear into thin air—thin air called anonymity? Would Haur go? Or would he fight him?

Lance didn’t know enough. He’d have to ply information out of Haur. Figure out where he stood. What he wanted. Man, Lance could use a Dr Pepper about now.

“Let’s find out what he knows.” Lance pushed out of his seat, surreptitiously wiped his palms on his slacks, then strode to the door. “Z,” he said to the L-T as he swiped his card to gain access to the galley between the two rooms. “Did he say anything else?”

“No, sir.” Zeferelli glanced at the general with his card poised over the reader.

Lance gave him the go-ahead. The light zipped green and a soft click echoed in the steel-reinforced chamber.

The L-T posted himself at the door as Lance moved to the table. The face before him so familiar, yet way too old for the few years that had passed.

Haur stood. “General, thank you for coming.”

For cryin’ out loud. The kid even sounded like his old man. Lance felt like Atlas, with the weight of the world on his shoulders. With the fate of one family he’d ripped apart twenty years ago dangling before him. But he had to play this right. Be the deputy director.

“First things first, Colonel.” Lance stuffed his hands in his pockets, not wanting to put the man on the defensive. “We need your name, rank—you know the drill.”

With a curt bow of his head, he assented. “Maj—Colonel Zheng Haur with the Ministry of Defense. I am here to speak with you on an urgent matter.”

“If it’s so urgent, why wait for me to show up? And what’s wrong, can’t you remember your own rank?” He tapped the table with a finger. “You know what I think? I think you’re wasting my time. You didn’t want to talk to me. You’re buying time while your cohorts are out there plotting to destroy the base.”

The man stiffened. “Of course not.”

“Then what’s the story? Why not talk to General Early—it’s his base, for cryin’ out loud. He can do anything I can.”

Haur’s face twitched. “No, sir. Not this time.”

Little alarms buzzed at the back of Lance’s head. But he told himself to play along. Play nice. No strong-arm tactics. Unless it became necessary. “And why is that?”

“You are familiar with the minister’s son, yes?”

The conversation just took a giant leap toward Darci. “A hotheaded fool.”

The tense brow smoothed, bringing a slight smile. “We agree.”

Not the answer he expected. What he wouldn’t do to plug this kid into a machine and figure out if he was playing them or what. Then again, Lance’s own operatives were trained to defeat lie detectors, so he could expect no less from the Chinese officer standing before him at attention. “I’m sorry, Colonel, but I’m not here to deal with paternal issues. If the minister—”

“Colonel Wu has gone rogue.”

That may be the worst news the man could’ve delivered to Lance. Colonel Wu, born Zheng Jianyu, had more patience, which wasn’t a good thing in this case. It was a lethal thing. Jianyu knew how to play his enemy, taunt him, bring him into submission until he crushed his spirit so he’d never be the same again.

Lance had seen the man’s handiwork with his own eyes.

“What in Sam Hill do you mean? Rogue?”

“His assignment was to oversee the integration and implementation of the teams working the mine in Jalrez Valley in Wardak Province. When I arrived to escort him back to China—”

“Why are you escorting him back to China?”

Haur’s jaw muscle flexed, strength and anger bouncing on the nerve. “When I arrived, the mine director informed me that Colonel Wu had left the site.”

Another yard closer to Darci.

“Good, he went back home.” Lance said it to remind Colonel Zheng of the only acceptable answer. The way things should be.

“No.” Frustration oozed out of the colonel, just as Lance intended. “He lied to the director of the mine, told them the general had recalled him. That is not true. He left with few supplies save his elite warriors.”

Yanjingshe. The fiercest fighters and trackers Lance had ever witnessed. If they were out there …

One more baby step.

Mother, may I, please kill him?

Keep it cool
. He had to keep it cool till he had cold, hard proof that Wu Jianyu knew the location of one of the Army’s most prized assets. “Again, I’m not here for father-son fights. I have a region to stabil—”

“Then let me speak plainly, General.” Haur let out a long sigh, fingertips pressed against the table. “You and I both know you are not here to stabilize anything.”

Lance itched for a Dr Pepper with its hefty dose of sugar and caffeine.

“You are deputy director of Defense Counterintelligence and HUMINT Center. You are responsible for dispatching teams of linguists, field analysts, case officers, interrogation experts, technical specialists, and special forces. You’ve had personnel in countries that could systematically destroy your reputation with the UN and even your closest allies.”

Haur leaned forward his chained and cuffed hands jangling against the metal table. While there was no malice in his face, a fierceness edged into his until then calm demeanor. “Would you like me to lay out, in front of all these witnesses, what covert missions you are operating in this region?”

           Seventeen