Viper Team Seven (The Viper Team Seven Series Book 1) (27 page)

Then he
remembered his map. In his rush to escape, he hadn’t even consulted it. He
wiggled his backpack off, unzipped it, and dug for the map. He found it, folded
and soggy. He peeled it open and then yanked off his goggles and slammed them
into the pack. It was dark out but not dark enough for night-vision goggles.

Siraj traced
with his finger from the Sunland Park Port, to Santa Teresita, across the Rio Grande, and to where he figured they were now. From there, he searched for the
location of the sleeper’s house. Vun Buvka had showed him the location on the
map, but had told him not to make a mark of any kind near it just in case Siraj
was captured.

At last, the
terrorist found the right place and traced again back to where he assumed they
were presently. He calculated about ten miles between them and their
destination. That was too far for the wounded one to limp, and there was too
much open country for nine guys with backpacks
not
to be seen. A thought
suddenly hit Siraj right between the eyes. The Border Patrol and now probably
the El Paso Police were looking for nine men near the border. Any two men seen
together that were even on an evening’s stroll within five miles of the border
would be subject to their suspicion. So why not split off? That would draw less
attention and they could all merge at the sleeper’s house from different directions.

Siraj called his
team together and quickly explained his plan. Then he opened the map and showed
them all the way to the house and made them memorize street names, mileage and
the sleeper’s house address.

“What about
him?” someone asked concerning the wounded man. “He can’t walk on his own. Even
if he could, a man shot in the leg would draw a lot of attention.”

Siraj answered
the best way he could. “He’ll have to try. He has to go alone though.”

“I cannot,” the
wounded man refused. “I am losing blood fast. I am about to die from blood
loss; walking any more would only speed the end. You must help me.”

Several seconds
passed before Siraj spoke again. “Maybe you could persuade someone to drive you
close by the house. You have money still, do you not?”

The man reached
into his pocket and pulled out a wad of sopping-wet dollars.

“Good,” Siraj
said. “Buy your way there. But do not be dropped off directly at the house or
even in the same neighborhood. We don’t want to give anyone any clue as to
where we are.”

“And like the
driver won’t ask about my leg?” the man threw out sarcastically.

Siraj reached
over and grabbed the man’s pistol from his belt and jerked off his light backpack.
Then he handed both to a man who was without a pack.

“That is your
problem,” Siraj replied to the wounded man’s question. “But should something go
wrong, I don’t want anything even remotely suspicious on you.”

Siraj looked at
the man’s wound, then stated, “All that leg has to last is about a day longer
anyhow.” Really he had no intention of letting this man go along with the
operation. He would just be a handicap and slow them down. He knew that this
man would never make it to the sleeper’s house, so Siraj had nothing to worry
about. It would probably be wise to kill him on the spot and bury his body, but
Siraj could not bring himself to murder a wounded, unarmed man. And the gunshot
would draw attention.

Two minutes later, everyone split off and headed for the sleeper’s house,
unaware of the five CIA agents that had just found them.

*          *          *

Everyone was
present in the CIA conference room. Kano opened a folder marked “TOP SECRET” and
shuffled through a few pages before she began her second briefing. This time,
she cast an image of a river on the screen that she identified as the Rio Grande.

“It looks like a
normal river, does it not?” Kano started. “But look closer.” She walked over to
the image, yardstick in hand, and pointed to an irrigation canal on the New Mexico side of the river. “This irrigation ditch tunnels under the river,” she explained.
“It goes over to here.” She pointed to another irrigation ditch on the Texas side. “Now, my CIA agents have found the terrorists on the run on the Texas side of the river and they believe that the terrorists crossed through the tunnel.”

Samuels
whistled. “A tunnel under the Rio Grande? Who would have ever thought that
existed, much less that the terrorists would have escaped through it?”

“My agents
obviously did,” Kano bragged. “Just to remind you, Mr. FBI Samuels, here at Langley we expect what we don’t expect.”

“Come on, Kano, get on with it,” the CIA Director moaned.

“We aren’t sure
where they’re heading, and it’s worth noting that all nine of them split up.
However, I had the five CIA agents break into two teams and follow two of the
terrorists – one of which appeared to be the leader – so chances aren’t
favoring us losing them.”

“Is that all, Nancy?” Cummins asked.

“
All?
”
she questioned, reiterating her success. “I have just found in record time what
the entire Border Patrol couldn’t find.”

“Okay, okay,
that’s good enough,” Cummins praised. “You did well.”

Kano smiled and basked in her praise.

After a while of
silence the D/CIA finally ordered, “Keep me informed on what happens. Meeting
adjourned.”

Parks and his
team stayed in the room with the D/CIA as the rest of the people cleared out.
When everyone left, Cummins leaned forward and rested his elbows on the table. “Are
you ready for what I have to tell you, Keith?”

“Yes sir, I am,”
Parks confirmed.

The Director
cracked the knuckles on his left hand. “We’re going to have to send you in. In
where, you say? That’s just it. We have to plan on flying you into Biggs Army
Airfield in El Paso but it’s no guarantee that’s where you’ll end up. What I
mean by that is this. We put you and your team on BIG BIRD, the pilot flies for
Biggs. But, if we find out that the terrorists are changing their course, we’ll
change your destination to wherever we think the terrorists are headed, just
like that.” Cummins snapped his fingers when he said “just like that” for extra
emphasis. “Any questions, or reasons why not to convene a video conference with
the President, VP and the Directors?”

Everyone shook
their heads.

“Good. Let’s get at it then.”

*          *          *

Only Parks,
Solomon, and Cummins were allowed to be in on this video conference, and as
Parks sat in front of several video screens, he suddenly wished he was not there.
He’d never done this before. He didn’t really know what to do. The Director had
given him and Solomon a short explanation on what to do, but still Parks wasn’t
sure he felt comfortable with all of these fancy, technical things.

The video
screens in front of him flickered to life and he could see the faces of the
President, Vice President, National Security Advisor, FBI Director, National
Intelligence Director, and the Secret Service Director.

Parks adjusted
the small microphone pinned onto his khaki uniform tie and made sure it was on.

“Everyone
ready?” Cummins whispered.

Solomon gave the
thumbs-up and the D/CIA turned on the sound.

“Mr. President,
this is Mike. Can you hear me?”

“Perfectly. Can
you hear me?”

“Clear as a
bell, sir. Major Parks and Solomon are here with me. Are you ready?”

Winnfield looked
around the room and nodded his approval.

“Good,” Cummins
said. “BORTAC has lost the terrorists.”

“Oh no.”

“Well, there is
more to the story, Mr. President.”

Parks looked
over at the screen that held the face of Vice President Anders and watched him
shake his head, obviously anticipating the worst.

“We have found
the terrorists on the Texas side of the Rio, and five of my agents in El Paso are following them as we speak.”

“You found them?
How? How did they get on the Texas side?” Anders wondered aloud.

“There’s a
tunnel that goes under the river from the Santa Teresa side to the El Paso side. The terrorists found that and used it to escape. My agents found them on the
run, presumably heading for El Paso. Believe me, there’s almost no chance that
we’re going to lose them now.”

“That’s a relief,”
Smith put in.

“We believe we
also know why these guys are heading into El Paso,” Cummins began reluctantly.

“Why?” the
President asked.

“My Intel
Director swears these guys are heading to El Paso to meet up with a sleeper
agent. She says the sleeper could easily have smuggled guns, explosives,
whatever, across the Mexican border into El Paso. From the reports of the
Border Patrol and everything else we’ve seen, I don’t think the terrorists already
have explosives on them. It’s a shot in the dark, but if you really look at it,
they do need to pick up explosives somewhere if they’re going to make any
significant attack. Also, El Paso would be an easy place to bury a sleeper
until he was needed.”

“What do you think,
Frank?” the President questioned.

The Director of
the FBI began shaking his head slowly. “It’s a guess. A wild one, but it might
be right. I’d say the big questions are how to stop them from getting there,
how to eliminate the sleeper agent, and what to do if this guess is wrong.”

The questions
remained unanswered until Solomon spoke up. “Mr. President, this is Solomon. If
I may, I’d like to answer Mr. Watkins’ questions.”

“Fire away,”
Winnfield instantly allowed.

“I think we
could kill two birds with one stone if we allowed the terrorists to lead
us
to their sleeper instead of trying to stop them. Then we could take them all
out together. I’d be willing to guarantee that they’ll be in such a hurry to
get to him, we could use the team of CIA agents to follow them and they’ll lead
the agents right to the sleeper. Otherwise the chances of taking the sleeper
out will be slim at best because his location will be unknown.”

“Makes sense,”
Smith declared. “Any comments on what to do if the guess that there is a
sleeper in El Paso is wrong and the terrorists head elsewhere?”

Solomon looked
to Parks.

“CIA Director Cummins
told me this plan, sir, and I for one think it’s good,” Parks said. “As long as
the CIA or FBI has agents following these terrorists, now that we know where
they are, we aren’t going to lose them, sir. Which means that even if they
don’t stay in El Paso, we know where they are, and my team can adjust our
flight landing point to wherever necessary.”

“You’re up to
changing your plans even when you’re on BIG BIRD heading for El Paso?” Roxon
asked Parks.

“Yes sir, we’d
have to be. The hard part most likely won’t be taking them out, but pinning
them down to a point where we can take them out. We can come up with a generic
battle plan, sir, and just alter it according to where we land.”

“There’s a
Border Patrol agent in a hospital in El Paso with a serious chest wound that
can testify against it being easy to take those terrorists out,” Roxon
retorted.

“I understand,
sir. I never said that it will be an easy job, I merely said that it’s not
going to be as hard as pinning the terrorists down to one place where we can do
our job.”

“I think that’s
the truth,” Cummins added. “I think the Viper Team Seven could easily exterminate
these terrorists. It’s the pinpointing that has me worried.”

“Then do we take
Parks’ advice and come up with a plan, get him and his team in the air, and
adjust it if the terrorists go elsewhere?” the National Security Advisor
questioned.

Parks turned his
attention to the President and he could see him cast a quick look at Anders
before answering.

“I don’t think
there is any other way to go about this,” Winnfield declared. “We can have BIG
BIRD fly a straight shot for Biggs Army Airfield, and if we receive any report
that the terrorists are changing course we can alter the flight to wherever
necessary.”

“Then let’s get
this done, Mr. President,” Smith finalized.

Suddenly
everyone’s attention in the Situation Room turned to something Parks couldn’t
see.

“What is it?”
Solomon asked Parks, his voice low and barely comprehensible.

“Excuse us,
gentlemen,” the Vice President apologized. “We just received the image of the Rio Grande tunnel and we’d like to look at it for a second.”

The “second”
finally elapsed and attention was focused again on the video conference.
Watkins was the first to give his opinion on how to go about neutralizing these
terrorists.

“The only way to
stop them will be to hit them whenever there’s a chance. No matter what the
circumstances. It’s going to be a play-it-by-ear deal, and Major, you have to
be on your toes and ready to change plans at a moment’s notice.”

Parks didn’t say or do anything. He knew that. The Marine Corps had
burned that quality into him forever. Have a plan Alpha, but also a Bravo and Charlie.
That was one of the reasons Solomon was sitting in on this, so he could know
what to do should something happen to Parks. The Marines went about it with an
acronym, PERMA, which stood for Planning, Embarkation, Rehearsals, Movement,
Assault. Marines were trained to rehearse the way the operation should go, and
then wargame “what ifs.” The more “what ifs” a person went over, the smoother
the operation would go, because the unit would be prepared for anything. Parks
knew Marines also issued “Commander’s Intents.” The intents were simply a basic
outline of victory, should anything go wrong with communications, the
commander, and so on. Parks had every intention to keep with the ways of PERMA
and the Commander’s Intent even when he was commanding agents instead of
Marines.

*          *          *

Parks gathered
every man on his team and brought them into the conference room, as directed by
the President. Plans had been made, orders had been given, and now Winnfield
said that he wanted to speak with
every
member of Parks’ team.