Читать книгу Close Quarters - Don Pendleton - Страница 12

CHAPTER SIX

Asunción, Paraguay

Rafael Encizo sat surrounded by his friends at the medical facility attached to the U.S. Embassy. The staff physician had given him a clean bill of health, save for a mild concussion. He’d agreed to waive the standard twenty-four-hour observation window with McCarter’s solemn promise Encizo wouldn’t engage in any “excitement or strenuous physical activity” for the next three days. McCarter hated to be short a team member but it was a promise he intended to keep.

“I feel fine,” Encizo protested after the doctor left the group to arrange for the Cuban’s release.

“You’re grounded, mate,” McCarter said. “Simple as that and we’re not going to argue about it. I can’t bloody well have you suddenly go down in the middle of a hot zone, then we got two more that have to carry you out. It’s too dangerous.”

“I suppose it’s pointless trying to get you to change your mind.”

“It is.”

“Fine, we’ll do it your way,” Encizo said with a frown. “But I don’t know what I can bring to the table sitting around the hotel room.”

“I’m sure Russell could use your help,” Hawkins offered.

“Yeah,” Encizo said. “Great.”

“Cheer up, Rafe,” Manning said. “It could’ve been much worse.”

“Like how?”

“Like we could be standing here around your dead body for one thing,” McCarter replied. “But that’s enough of the chitchat. The subject’s closed. Let’s get out of here so he can get dressed.”

The Phoenix Force warriors vacated the room and five minutes later Encizo emerged attired in a fresh change of clothes. The five men left the Embassy and headed straight to the garage where Russell had managed to acquire a staff van that would transport them to their original quarters outside the city. Every man remained vigilant during their twenty-minute commute, their eyes roving every street corner and building top for potential trouble. Each of them had resolved to be on high alert until they could figure out how the op had gotten blown so soon after they arrived.

As they climbed from the van at their destination, Hawkins whistled at the sweeping courtyard that doubled as entryway into the resort. “Nice digs!”

“It would appear they spared no expense this time,” James added.

The men proceeded inside, each toting the equipment bags salvaged from the shuttle bus. They practically had the place to themselves, true to Russell’s word. Encizo and Russell shared one suite, which they declared to be their makeshift operations center given Russell could set up the high-tech equipment there, while McCarter and James shared a second and Manning and Hawkins the last. Their suites adjoined the ops center on either side.

They would have liked to take a dip in the pool but this wasn’t a vacation and McCarter ordered them to get cleaned up. He did arrange to have dinner catered to the ops center; at least they could share a meal together while they discussed strategy. It was a feast to behold with garlic-roasted prime rib, boiled potatoes and salad. They also enjoyed bowls filled with a variety of tropical fruits, cinnamon pudding, coffee and a well-stocked bar compliments of the management.

When they finished, McCarter said, “All right, chums, we’ve got a lot to talk about. The first thing we should discuss is the latest news from the Farm. You already know about Ironman, the friends and their new mission. Apparently this Christopher Harland bloke confessed that the terrorists had coerced him into duping Russell here with that cockamamie story.”

“I hope they’re planning to lock that piece of crap behind bars,” Russell interjected.

“They’ll do whatever’s in the best interests of the U.S.,” Manning replied. “And it’s good protocol not to interrupt the team leader during the briefing.”

Russell tendered the expression of a puppy who’d just been chided, but he clammed up. Nobody could fault the guy. He’d operated with almost pure autonomy while working the embassy in Paraguay and wasn’t used to being on a team. According to the dossier Price had run down for McCarter, Russell had pretty much kept to himself. That type of introversion wasn’t unusual in people with high IQ levels and technical skills—Kurtzman being an exception to the rule—so McCarter couldn’t fault Russell too much for not observing Phoenix Force protocols.

“No worries, Russell,” McCarter said. “So now we’re certain that the terrorists operating here are probably Hezbollah. We’re also pretty sure that they’re being trained by a contingent of the Islamic Revolutionary Guard Corps. What we don’t know is where, and that’s going to be our primary objective. Questions?”

Russell raised his hand and McCarter acknowledged him with a nod.

“I’m happy to help set up a technical station here for you, that we can easily tie into our B-Sat signal intelligence system, as well as allowing you to coordinate with whomever you work for,” Russell said. “But do we have any more intelligence we might be able to use to actually pinpoint these guys? I mean, I’m good, but I’m not clairvoyant.”

“That’s a valid question,” James added.

McCarter scratched his chin and considered it. “I think our first and best option is to get you tied into our systems first. Our man back in the States can guide you on that. Once we have that uplink established, he may be able to send us something you can use.”

“At least Harland’s betrayal explains how we were compromised so soon after being in country,” Encizo said.

“I’m not entirely sure that it does,” Manning countered.

“What do you mean?”

“Well, we know they were tracking Harland but that doesn’t explain how they knew we were coming here. Harland didn’t even know that and I’m sure our counterparts in the States didn’t tell him.”

“Or if they did, they wouldn’t have given any specifics,” James observed.

“That’s a good point,” Encizo replied.

“Yeah, it’s obvious there’s a leak somewhere within the Embassy or among one of their contacts,” McCarter said. He looked at Russell and asked, “How many people knew the details of our mission here?”

“Three,” Russell replied. “The ambassador, his first assistant and me. We’re also the only ones who knew the details of Christopher Harland’s encounter with the local IRGC leadership.”

“Any of that end up in your computer systems?”

Harland shook his head. “Absolutely not. We have a pretty solid security system in place, but it would be insane to have put that kind of sensitive information into computers not hardened against intrusion by NSA standards.”

“Emails or phone calls from the others?” Hawkins asked.

“Nope.” Russell shook his head emphatically. “At least not to my knowledge. I personally monitor all electronic traffic in or out of there to make sure that any information that must be encrypted is encrypted. I didn’t note any references in the content to Harland or his transfer.”

“If he was being tracked electronically,” Manning said, “maybe they somehow used that to get their information.”

“Maybe, but that still doesn’t explain how they knew we were here, which is the real question at hand,” McCarter said. “How about the guy who drove us?”

Russell frowned. “I don’t think that’s feasible. He didn’t know the details of our route until after we’d left the Embassy. I can’t see how he would have had an opportunity to inform them far enough in advance to coordinate such an elaborate ambush. I mean, road bombs? That takes some real planning.”

“He makes an awfully good point,” Hawkins said.

“Well, we’re not going to find out sitting around here on our bloody arses chewing the fat about it,” McCarter said. “Mr. Gold will help you get your electronic systems into place as quickly as possible.”

Encizo and Russell looked at each other with mutual nods.

“The rest of us need to do a little recon.”

“Where?” Manning asked with a furrowed brow.

“The Peace Corps west of here,” McCarter replied. “Bring your waterproof bags and mosquito repellent, blokes. We’re taking a trip up the Rio Negro.”

* * *

IT WOULDN’T HAVE BEEN anybody’s first choice to navigate the winding, narrow road that snaked along the Rio Negro in the dead of night, but Phoenix Force had never been known for taking the easy route.

It bothered David McCarter being one man short but he understood all too well the importance of giving the body time to rest after trauma. Besides, Encizo wouldn’t lack things to do back at the hotel if things continued on the course they had to this point.

This mission could’ve been classified as anything but easy, and yet McCarter could only think about the challenges facing Phoenix Force. McCarter had told the Farm in no uncertain terms that he thought sending Able Team into the heart of Iran wasn’t the hottest idea. After all, this was the CIA’s screwup. Why couldn’t they clean up their own messes? Still, he knew orders were orders; they went where they had to and did what they had to. It was this kind of professional ethic that had guided the field teams of Stony Man all of these years, and McCarter wouldn’t have changed it for anything.

It took nearly two hours to reach the destination of the destroyed Peace Corps camp. As Phoenix Force bailed from the SUV—a loaner from the American Embassy—McCarter ordered them to scout the perimeter. It wouldn’t do to get ambushed again. Until they could figure out how the Hezbollah trainees had managed to track their movements, McCarter had told them to assume their every step remained under observation. Manning had also ensured they weren’t followed and during their entire trip to the site he could have counted on one hand the number of vehicles they encountered traveling in the opposite direction.

Once they cleared the perimeter, they began to search the scorched remains of the encampment. Manning and Hawkins teamed up and took one half of the camp while McCarter and James scoured the other side.

As they moved through what remained of the camp mess, the beams from their flashlights sweeping the interior, James said, “So you never really told us what we’re looking for.”

“That’s because I’m not sure myself, mate,” McCarter replied. “I just have a gut instinct that something here could help us.”

“I suppose it’s possible.” James squinted as he searched the gloom and said, “I don’t mind saying, though, this place gives me the creeps. It smells like…death.”

That forced a chuckle from McCarter. “You’ve been watching too many horror movies.”

“Nah, that doesn’t bother me,” James said. “Besides, it’s always the white chick who—”

Something caught James’s eye as it glinted in the flashlight beam. James peered at it for a bit, cocked his head and said, “Well, I’ll be damned.”

McCarter stopped searching and turned toward the direction of his friend. “What is it?”

“Come look for yourself.”

McCarter advanced on James’s position and shortly the pair stood directly over a small, tubular object several inches in diameter and a half foot tall. At first it looked like a miniature coffee urn but on closer inspection they could see the remains of what appeared to be an advanced electronic gauge set into its face. The most telling thing about the object was that despite the fire the majority of it had appeared to survive the blaze. One thing was certain, it wasn’t any sort of equipment that would be in possession of a Peace Corps contingent and it sure as hell looked out of place in this environment.

McCarter keyed his radio and ordered the others to join them in the wrecked building. Manning and Hawkins arrived less than a minute later.

“What’d you find?” Hawkins asked. “Buried treasure?”

McCarter pointed at the odd-looking device. “Ever see anything like this before?”

Hawkins gave it a cursory glance and shrugged, but Manning knelt to gain a more detailed appraisal. A few times they heard him grunt to himself as he brushed gently as the soot and ash around the electronic inset. He then looked around the area with his flashlight. After a time, he rose and dusted his hands off.

“It’s not an explosive device—I’m sure of that much,” he told his compatriots.

Hawkins appeared to let off a sigh of relief.

“You think it’s some kind of food processor or something?” James asked.

“Definitely not,” McCarter said. “And definitely not any sort of luxury afforded most Peace Corps volunteers. A lot of them travel with only the most basic necessities because they want to fit in with the natives, as it were.”

“So what are we looking at?” Hawkins asked.

“Well, I’m not expert but I’d say it’s some sort of homing device,” Manning said.

“Pretty odd thing for a bunch of Peace Corps volunteers to have,” James replied.

“There’s no identifying marks on its exterior, but I’m betting if we take it back to HQ for a closer inspection Russell can probably determine exactly what it is,” McCarter observed.

“And likely even who made it,” Manning said.

“Well, it’s not exactly the X-marks-the-spot you were looking for, boss, but it’s a start.”

“Indeed it is, chum,” David McCarter replied.

* * *

“WELL, IT LOOKS LIKE you were right on the money, pal,” Brad Russell told Manning. “It’s definitely a homing beacon.”

Phoenix Force had returned with the device and after a couple of tense hours, Russell and Encizo had managed to get enough of their communications system up that the NSA expert could then turn his attention to their prize. Russell made short work of it, figuring out how to disassemble the device and determining its purpose in no time flat. Whatever else Russell might have been, Price had pegged him well when she’d told McCarter that he was an electronics genius to rival some of the best in the business.

“A homing beacon inside a Peace Corps camp,” James said. “Doesn’t make any sense.”

They had Aaron Kurtzman on speakerphone and it was he who replied, “It does if you consider this in light of what we learned from Christopher Harland.”

“Meaning?” Hawkins said.

“Meaning that they didn’t stumble onto those Peace Corps blokes by accident,” McCarter replied. He scratched at the stubble already forming on his chin. “They had this whole thing planned out. They stalked them and they planned their attack.”

“And they also managed to get someone to plant that beacon inside the camp,” Russell said.

“But who?” James inquired.

“One of the locals. Had to be,” Encizo declared.

“What makes you think so?” Manning said.

“There’s little doubt in my mind now they have folks on the inside working for them. I think they have a lot of natives on the payroll, in fact.”

“Paraguayan citizens helping Hezbollah terrorists?” Russell asked in disbelief. “But why?”

“Maybe the money’s good,” Hawkins said.

“That’s one possibility,” Encizo said. “But the more likely scenario is that they’ve agreed to leave the locals alone. The economy here isn’t exactly stable and since the fact one of this country’s strongest revenue streams comes from farming, it’s not impossible that the Hezbollah might be offering security in exchange for people to look the other way.”

“I don’t know,” McCarter said. “That sounds a bit far-fetched, mate.”

“Not really if you consider the possibility,” Encizo said. “How else can you explain their ability to get this beacon inside the camp without being seen? Hezbollah terrorists couldn’t just waltz in and out unobserved, but local natives were around them constantly. That’s the people they were serving, remember? And let’s consider that the attack on this Peace Corps contingent was obviously part of a larger plan. The terrorists didn’t have to reveal themselves but they chose to risk doing so. Doesn’t that make you stop and ask yourselves why? It sure does me.”

“That’s a good point,” Hawkins said.

“I have to admit that he may be on to something,” Manning agreed.

“Ditto,” James said.

With all of the opinions voiced, McCarter had to consider that majority opinion had merit; it was possible Encizo had just cracked the mystery wide open. “Okay, so let’s just say we’re right and they have the locals helping them. How does exposing their operation help them? I mean, I don’t know about the rest of you but I don’t see how revealing the secret training operation in the middle of bloody South America helps the Hezbollah. Or the people training them, for that matter.”

“What if it’s a diversion?” Russell offered.

“Okay,” Kurtzman interjected via speakerphone, “but a diversion from what?”

“Well, didn’t you say that they found a homing beacon on Harland that had advanced electronics?”

“Yeah, that’s right,” Kurtzman replied.

“And now we find this homing beacon—it also has advanced electronics. From what I’ve seen so far, I’d say much of the guts were manufactured in Europe somewhere.”

Kurtzman said in a faraway tone, “If I’m correct in my recollection, Gadgets said the same thing.”

“Gadgets?”

“Don’t ask,” Manning told Russell with a smile.

“So let’s look at what we have,” McCarter said. “Hezbollah terrorists being trained by members of the Islamic Revolutionary Guard Corps, and using highly advanced technology to spin whatever plans they have. They’ve also committed several coordinated strikes, and now we suddenly have Ironman and friends headed into the heart of Tehran to assist some no-name CIA informant who claims all of this part of a plan by a mysterious group high up in Ahmadinejad’s political ranks to overthrow the Iranian government.”

“Well, I don’t know what the hell all of that means, exactly,” Russell said, “but it doesn’t sound good.”

“It sounds like terrorists on the verge of implementing a high-tech threat against Americans is what it sounds like,” Manning said.

“Great!” Hawkins said. When they all looked at him in surprise he added sheepishly, “I just mean…it’ll be business as usual.”