Wings of Steele - Destination Unknown (Book 1) (25 page)

Gant
had explained that the UFW was not only created to improve
interplanetary
trade but for protection as well. Protection against hostile action
from unexplored systems or marauding pirates. The latter was
becoming more common and increasingly more successful. The UFW
deployed scout patrol craft, cruisers and fighter carriers to create
a Network or Net as it was more commonly called. The problem was,
the pirates were either finding or creating more holes in the Net
than the UFW could cover.

The
UFW needed more people, good people, pilots mostly, with combat
savvy. The pirates were vicious and ruthless when dealing with the
UFW Net and more often than not appeared in numbers sufficient to
overwhelm inexperienced UFW forces. Then in true pirate fashion,
steal, pillage, or salvage, anything they could get their hands on.
They got stronger, the Net got weaker.

The
UFW had experienced limited success with ambushes and raids on
pirate
hot spots. The idea being to keep the raiders off balance, out of
the trade routes and away from the Genesis Gates until their bases
could be discovered. Though the operations had merit, the UFW had
yet to yield the capture or destruction of a single pirate
stronghold. The UFW was simply spread too thin to effect the needed
results.

Jack
was not surprised to find pirates often dealt in illicit cargo,
after
all, greed was a universal motivator, and in any culture, there were
plenty of vices to exploit. And, with interstellar travel so
prevalent, there was an abundance of cultures accessible for the
sale of
any
cargo or booty the pirates could obtain.

Jack
got those old familiar
save
the world feelings
he used to get
when
he joined the Chicago Police Department. The cravings for action,
the desire to make a difference, improve the world. Some people
called men like him
excitement
junkies
.
He wondered how close that was to the real truth.

Compared
to most of the planets in the UFW, Earth was considered a
savage,
warring world, its occupants cunning and dangerous. Jack decided
this could work to the UFW's advantage if the Federation could be
convinced to use Pappy's superior combat tactics. This might be
enough to give them an edge against the pirates and smugglers. He
also felt that with his knowledge of special police tactics, and
Maria's covert operations experience, they could help uncover some
of those elusive pirate bases.

His
thoughts suddenly turned to home and Mother Earth; parents,
friends...
and unfinished business with Stephen Miles. Mr. Miles... yes, he
mustn't forget that bastard. Jack had to go home first, he couldn't
forget that. That was to come before all else. It was obvious
though,
life
out here
had a lot to offer, maybe... just maybe, he... no, they, as a team,
could make a difference...

■ ■ ■

"Jack,
sweetheart... are you asleep?" Her voice was soft and rich.

Jack
opened his eyes to see Maria gazing down at his face. "Hmm,"
he
said yawning, "I guess I was..." He propped himself up on
one elbow, "Where's Fritz?"

"He
went for a walk with Brian and Mike, they should be back pretty
soon."
Jack nodded and sat up, amazed at how comfortable the grass was and
slightly embarrassed that he had dozed off. Maria stretched and made
growling cat noises, making Jack smile. Maria tousled her hair,
"Want to go dancing after dinner tonight?"

Jack
nodded again, "Sure why not? Sounds great." They laid back
on
the
grass and kissed, oblivious of the curious stares of puzzled
offworlders.

WASHINGTON
DC, CIA OFFICE:
ALPHABET
SOUP

Stephen
Miles sifted through the piles of reports scattered across
his
desk. "Dammit Cummins, it's been almost two months and not a
sign!" The steady rain pattered across the window of his
Washington office. "How does somebody just vanish with a plane
like that? And with a plane like that, how could you possibly escape
two F18s? I mean even if they were being flown by two complete
morons, there's no way..." His mind drifted off as he looked
out the rain washed window upon a gray and soggy city. Lightning
flashed in the distance, momentarily illuminating the Washington
monument.

It
was a long silence as the two men sat listening to the rain. Bob
Cummins
shifted uneasily in his seat before he spoke. "The Bureau has
been watching Steele's house for some time." The Director's
eyes did not leave the window, Cummins continued. "Both his
phone and his parent's phone in Chicago have been tapped. I guess
the boys are hoping to catch him if he tries to contact his folks. "

Miles
continued to stare out the window. "Those Bureau slobs
couldn't
catch a cold... but keep a team on them in case they get lucky."

Cummins
nodded. "Have been, twenty-four hours a day."

"Good..."

The
National Security Act of 1947 was very specific about the CIA's
endeavors;
that they could have no role inside the US. Internal operations were
to be left to the FBI. There was definitely no love lost between the
two agencies and the Bureau had a nasty habit when it found the
Agency infringing on its territory. Publicity. A royal nightmare.
But Stephen needed to find Jack and the B25 before the FBI or the
military. It would be the only way he could protect him and prevent
the operation from being compromised. Jack was a wanted man. Sought
by the FBI who were co-operating with the Puerto Rican government
and by the US military, who wanted to know where their F18s were.

If
it came to it, Stephen hoped he could keep his people protected
by
the fact that the operation was actually running outside the US. If
not, what the hell, he wasn't beyond a little dirty pool.

Cummins
cleared his throat before he spoke again, he knew this was a
sore
subject. "Are we going to make new arrangements to send
equipment to the team in Sao Palo?"

Stephen
leaned back in the leather chair and closed his eyes. "No."
He
pinched the bridge of his nose, "We lost our window of
opportunity on Vasquez, he's already left the country with his
shipment."

"Isn't
there any way we can intercept him?"

Stephen
shook his head, "No, not at this point. Someone tipped him
off
and we lost contact with our informant in that region a week ago. We
have no idea where his port of entry will be. Or even if he's
transporting by air or water for that matter."

"You're
not thinking Steele tipped him off are you?"

"I
thought of it, but no. Besides, it wouldn't explain two missing
jet
fighters." Stephen Miles had decided that possibility read too
much like cheap fiction.

Cummins
stared down at his shoes. "How big is the shipment?"

"Two
tons."

Bob's
eyes shot from the floor to the Director who had resumed
staring
out the window. "Two tons! Jesus...!" He'd need a
calculator to figure out the street value of two tons of cocaine.

"Oh,
it's not the coke that’s bothering me," interrupted
Miles, "I'd
give
that to the DEA boys anyway. I want Vasquez and Restonovich."

"Colonel
Restonovich?" Cummins had heard the name a couple of times
before,
but he had no idea what the man had to do with the Vasquez cartel.
"He's Russian military, right?"

His
feet up on the desk, Miles rolled his head back and forth on the
chair's
headrest. He seemed to be transfixed by the rain hitting the office
window. "No. Not military... KGB."

Bob's
eyes widened, "KGB? I don't understand sir, what would KGB
want
with a drug dealer? And I thought the KGB was pretty much
dismantled, defunct..."

The
CIA Director of South American Operations swung his feet off the
desk
and spun his chair around to look the young agent in the eye. "Don't
let all this Glasnost crap fool you, Cummins." He pulled a
cigar out of a small mahogany box on the desk and bit the tip off,
"The KGB isn't dead, just hiding." He searched for and
found his lighter under a pile of reports. "This Glasnost,
buddy-buddy bullshit, was a perfect veil for them to slip
underground. They're actually more dangerous now than they were
before."

"And
their connection to Vasquez?"

Stephen
puffed on the cigar as he lit it, expelling clouds of foul,
gray
smoke. "Bankroll a drug dealer. Help him move his shipment.
Eliminate him when you know the ropes and take over. It's a perfect
opportunity to funnel mass amounts of funds to their cause,
and
aid in the destruction of the fabric that binds our country."
Agent Cummins nodded, he was beginning to understand the big
picture. "But," continued Stephen, "we need to find
that plane and that kid. Anybody else gets him, and they'll blab all
over the place. If Restonovich gets wind of it, he'll go completely
underground... I'll never get another shot at him."

Stephen's
aide buzzed him on the intercom. "Yes, Maggie?"

"The
field team assigned to the Steele's is reporting in," replied
his
aide, "it looks like the federal boys are going to make an
initial contact. Wilson is still on the line if you want to speak
with him."

"Yes!"
He picked up on the line that flashed on his phone. "Wilson,
what's
going on?"

The
agent's voice was distant, he was on a cellular phone. "We
intercepted
a communiqu
é
this morning, sir. The Bureau boys have received orders from their
regional;
interview
in addition to observation
.
And
get
them to talk
,
was an exact quote."

"Bozos!"
growled Miles, "never know when to keep their noses out of
our
business... Head them off if you can, let them know in no uncertain
terms, their investigation stops now! Quote national security, but
no details. Understand?"

"Yes
sir. Pressure?"

"Modest.
Heavy only if you have to. If they've already made contact,
go
in and see the Steeles and do damage control. We don't want them
warning Jack away, we need to bring him in. I'll be on the next
flight out."

"Right,
sir." The connection ended and the Director cradled the
receiver.

"Cummins,"
Bob Cummins looked up from his empty coffee cup. "Go
pack.
Kevin and I will be by to pick you up shortly. We're going to
Florida." With a nod, agent Cummins was up and out the door.
Stephen Miles rose from his desk, "Maggie! Get Kevin, we're
going to Florida!"

■ ■ ■

Lynnette
Steele stood in the kitchen of her son's home and prepared
dinner.
As promised, she and Kyle had traveled down to see Jack. And as
expected, he had not yet returned so they called Nina for a key. But
now he was long overdue and they were both becoming concerned. There
had been no mention of the missing planes on either television or
radio so they had no knowledge of any of the bizarre occurrences
which had unfolded before their arrival. They enjoyed the weather,
the attractions and the beach, basically trying to remain positive
about his delayed return.