Section 8 Page 25

  “Damn,” Vaughn said as he climbed out of the vent. “Where’s the fourth?”

  Tai gestured toward the treeline. “Dead.”

  “Abayon gave me five minutes. That was over two minutes ago.” “The Talon is inbound. Two minutes.” Vaughn wondered if that minute in between was going to be enough. And if Abayon was going to keep his word. He walked over next to Tai, slinging his MP-5 and then clipping his harness into the same loop of rope she was attached to. They linked arms and waited.

  *****

  The pilot of the Talon saw the flashing infrared strobe clearly in his night vision goggles and lined the nose of the aircraft up with it and for a point slightly below it. He throttled back to just above stall speed.

  *****

  Vaughn could hear the inbound aircraft although he couldn’t see it. “Come on,” he whispered.

  “Shit,” Tai exclaimed as the ground shook beneath them. Then it shook again, closer.

  “Linked charges, firing in sequence,” Vaughn said. Another explosion, closer, rumbled up from below. Then another, and this time a spout of flame came out of the vent. Next one is it, Vaughn thought, and at that moment the rope above them suddenly gave a jerk.

  A second later both were lifted straight up off the ground as it exploded beneath them.

  *****

  The rope was caught by the whiskers on the nose of the Talon. It slid to the exact center, where the sky anchor automatically clamped tight on it. Right after that, a blade above the anchor cut the blimp free.

  “Jeez,” the crew chief yelled over the intercom. He was looking out the back ramp. “The top of the mountain just blew.”

  “Do we have them?”

  “Roger that. Two at least.”

  The pilot of the C-130 pulled back on the controls, putting the aircraft into a steep climb. This brought the rope along the belly of the plane. The loadmaster lowered a hook attached to a small crane bolted to the rear platform. Fishing, he managed to snag the rope on his second attempt. Then the crane began to reel the rope in.

  The Talon continued to gain altitude, and the rope was reeled in until the two bodies reached the ramp. The crew chief, secured in the plane by a tether, reached over and helped them both to their feet.

  “Where are the others?” the crew chief asked.

  Vaughn began unbuckling his harness. “Dead.”

  “There’s a message waiting,” the crew chief said. He held out a sheet of paper as the ramp began to shut.

  Vaughn took it in the swirling wind and read.

  TEAM EN ROUTE FOR FURTHER ASSIGNMENT. CONTACT AS SOON AS ABLE

  Vaughn handed it to Tai. “Where are we headed?” he asked the crew chief.

  “Hawaii.”

  CHAPTER 19

  Pacific Ocean

  Moreno knew it was just a question of hours now, as he sat at the captain’s small fold-down desk in the wardroom. Then the greatest blow against the first world by the third would be struck; nine-eleven would dwindle to insignificance. Attention would have to be paid to the gap between the two worlds, and the message that those who had been oppressed would not tolerate it anymore would become clear.

  Of course, Moreno also knew that everyone on board this submarine would be dead within twenty- four hours. Not all of them knew that. They had been told it was most likely a one-way mission but that anything could happen. What only he knew was that he had a remote control in his pocket that would detonate charges preplanted in the submarine, breaching the hull in four points.

  Moreno bowed his head and placed it on the cool metal. He knew Abayon was probably gone by now. So many decades of comradeship. Moreno also knew his daughter was now in charge. He silently prayed that she would stay on a true and steady course for the movement and for the people of the world.

  Over the Pacific

  “What’s going on?” Tai asked as they sat down on the red cargo web seats along the side of the cargo bay. The throb of the engines was so loud, they had to shout to be able to talk to each other.

  “You heard Abayon. He has—had—something big planned. Based on this—” Vaughn held the message— “I think it has something to do with Hawaii.”

  “But Royce is the one who betrayed us,” Tai pointed out. “He sent in that second team. You know that.”

  Vaughn leaned back and rested his head against the web. “I know. But...”

  Tai waited and when he didn’t continue, demanded, “But what?”

  “Abayon was a bad man,” Vaughn said. “I’m glad he’s dead. He was a terrorist. I don’t know who Royce works for, and neither did Abayon. He was punching at shadows.”

  “Real shadows,” Tai said.

  “And Royce is a shadow among shadows. What makes you think he’s any more aware than we are?”

  “He tried to have us killed,” Tai said.

  “He was closing out a mission,” Vaughn said. “Our team was to do the mission, and the perfect deniability and secrecy was to have a second team, who only knew about us, come in and wipe us out. It’s a hard world out there. With bad people in it. I’m not concerned with Royce, I’m concerned with who he works for and what their goals are. That’s the issue.”

  Tai fell silent for several minutes as they winged east, toward Hawaii. “Do you want to contact Royce?” she finally asked. “He thinks we’re dead, and he’s talking to the team that was supposed to take us out.”

  Vaughn sighed. “Yes. Because this is bigger than us.” He got up and went forward into the front half of the cargo bay, to the rows of computer consoles the flight crew used. One of the crew members nodded at him and pointed to an empty chair. Vaughn took it and stared at the screen. A blinking cursor awaited.

  He pondered it for a while. Who was Royce expecting to talk to? Orson? Or the commander of the team that had jumped in to ambush them? Or both? Wheels within wheels.

  Vaughn sensed someone at his shoulder and looked up. Tai stood there. “What should I write?” he asked.

  Tai shrugged. “I have no idea.”

  Vaughn’s finger hit the keyboard:

  TEAM HERE. TWO CASUALTIES. MISSION ACCOMPLISHED. EN ROUTE TO HAWAII AS ORDER

  A few seconds passed, then a reply popped up.

  ABU SAYEF HAS OBTAINED ZX NERVE AGENT FROM JOHNSTON ATOLL.

  KILLED OVER ONE THOUSAND TO DO SO

  ZX ON SUBMARINE HEADED FOR HONOLULU

  INTERDICT AND DESTROY

  LAST KNOWN LOCATION BEING SENT

  WILL UPDATE SHORTLY

  “Shit,” Tai muttered. “ZX.”

  “What the hell is that?” Vaughn asked. “I’ve heard of VX, but—”

  “Many times more deadly. Abayon is going to take out Honolulu.”

  “How do we stop a submarine? Why doesn’t he call in the Navy? The Air Force? The Marines?”

  “To keep the secrets,” Tai said.

  “What secrets?”

  “The Golden Lily. Abayon. This mission. To stay in the shadows.”

  “That’s worth losing Pearl Harbor again?”

  “Some think the first Pearl Harbor attack was worth what happened afterward. It got us into World War II when we’d just been sitting on the sidelines. And then we lost the World Trade Center.”

  “You don’t think—” Vaughn didn’t finish the thought.

  “I don’t know what to think anymore.”

  “This is screwed.”

  “That seemed to have been Abayon’s opinion,” Tai noted.

  “But what he’s doing is wrong.”

  “Yes, it is.”

  Vaughn pressed his fists against his throbbing temples. “Who the hell are these people?”

  “We’re going to have to put that one on the back burner for now,” Tai said. “We’ve got to stop that submarine.”

  Vaughn swiveled in the chair and stared at her. “How the hell are you and I going to do that?”

  “The sub is going to have to surface to release the agent, most likely using some sort of sprayer on deck into an onsh
ore breeze. We take out the sprayer, we stop it.”

  “Great plan.”

  “That’s not a plan,” Tai said. “That’s a concept. We need to work on the plan. Let’s check what gear we have in back and then we come up with a plan. There’s a palletful of stuff back there.”

  Oahu

  Royce called his contact at Pacific Fleet headquarters once more. This time he didn’t ask questions, he issued orders. He wanted the diesel engine contact back on the SOSUS board. He wanted two Marine F-16s with live ordnance in the air with direct contact to him and under his orders. He had the proper code words authorizing these actions.

  When he disconnected, Royce realized that for the first time he had gone beyond his Organization orders. The F-16s were not authorized. But he was damned if he was going to let Honolulu get wiped out just so the Organization could stay hidden. That thought made him sit bolt upright.

  September 11, 2001.

  Had someone in the Organization known and dropped the ball? Or had the ball been ordered to be dropped?

  Over the Pacific

  “Someone was prepared,” Vaughn said as they stared at the gear laid out on the cargo bay floor. Parachutes, weapons, explosives, night vision equipment— it was a Special Operator’s dream pallet.

  “We could always ram this plane into the sub,” Tai said.

  “That’s what the bad guys do,” Vaughn said. He was connecting what he saw in front of him with what needed to be done. “Okay, here’s the plan ...”

  Pacific Ocean

  Moreno had his eyes pressed against the periscope. He strained to see as far as the scope would let him. There was the slightest smudge directly ahead on the horizon. Land.

  Diamond Head.

  Oahu

  Royce was looking at the display when Foster came walking into the control center. “What’s going on?” Foster asked.

  Royce turned in his seat and drew a pistol from a shoulder holster.

  “What the hell are you—”

  Royce fired once, the round going through Foster’s heart. The Sim-Center director fell to the floor. Royce stared at the body for a few seconds, then checked David’s computer, searching for someone who could come sweep the body. He made the call, then turned his attention back to the board.

  A green flashing dot was now there, not far off Diamond Head. Royce noted the coordinates, typed them into the computer and hit the send button. Then he unhooked the computer and slid it in the carrying case.

  Satphone in hand, he left the Sim-Center and went out to the Defender. He got in and drove toward Pearl Harbor. On the way, he called ahead, and using the proper authorization codes, lined up a search and rescue Blackhawk helicopter to be ready to take off as soon as he arrived.

  Over the Pacific

  “This isn’t much of a plan,” Tai noted. She had a parachute on her back, a rucksack rigged in front, and her MP-5 tied on top of the rucksack.

  “You got a better one?” Vaughn asked.

  “Just because I don’t have a better one doesn’t make this a good one.”

  “Point taken,” Vaughn said as the crew chief held up five fingers. “But five minutes out, it’s all we got.”

  They had received the location of the submarine from Royce, and the plane was on a direct line toward it at 10,000 feet of altitude. The back ramp slowly opened, revealing sunlight and a glittering blue ocean far below. Vaughn and Tai edged forward, one on each side. They poked their heads into the slipstream and peered out. Off to the left and ahead was Oahu, with Diamond Head the most prominent and recognizable feature.

  There was no sign of the submarine, but at the speed the airplane was flying, Vaughn didn’t expect to see it yet. He pulled his head back in and glanced over at Tai. She shook her head.

  The crew chief held up four fingers.

  *****

  Royce could see the track of the Talon and the location of the submarine on the screen of his laptop, automatically forwarded to him via satellite from the Sim-Center. He was in the back of the Blackhawk, the engines powering up in preparation for takeoff.

  The plane was on a direct intercept course. He also could see the red dot representing the two F-16s circling. He looked out of the helicopter and couldn’t spot them, but knew they would be in visual range shortly, as the helicopter raced past Waikiki. Royce noted the people lying on the beach, enjoying themselves, not knowing death was approaching.

  He keyed the radio. “Dragon Leader, this is Control. Over.”

  “This is Dragon Leader. Over.”

  “You will attack only on my order. Is that understood? Over.”

  “Roger that. Over.”

  “Out.”

  *****

  Moreno could clearly see Diamond Head now. He had studied the data and knew the prevailing winds. That, combined with the effectiveness of the sprayer and the time the ZX would stay airborne—all the factors had been considered to come up with the spot where they would surface and release death.

  It would not be long now.

  He blinked as something flashed across his field of vision. He adjusted the focus and realized it was a sailboat. Probably a thousand meters in front of his position. He could see the people on board. Two couples. Rich Americans, indulging themselves. The women were dressed indecently—in fact, one of the women wore no top.

  Whores. They deserved what was coming.

  But he could not turn the periscope away. He tracked the boat cutting across his path. He saw the topless woman go up to the man at the helm and give him a kiss. A tender one. Not like a whore would. Young lovers. The thought flashed across his mind.

  Moreno twisted the scope away and took readings off the landmarks.

  They were very close now.

  “Prepare for surface operations,” he ordered.

  The man in the containment suit was already prepared with a container of ZX resting on the decking, held in place with both hands.

  *****

  The crew chief held up one finger. Vaughn nodded at Tai, and once more they leaned out of the plane, peering ahead.

  Vaughn saw a sailboat cutting through the waves ahead.

  That was all. No submarine.

  The seconds ticked by. The green light high up in the tail section flashed on, indicating they were over the submarine’s location, but Vaughn saw nothing. He glanced over his shoulder and met Tai’s gaze. She shook her head. Nothing.

  Vaughn looked at the crew chief and twirled a finger, indicating they needed to circle around.

  *****

  “Surface,” Moreno ordered. He looked at the man in the containment suit. “Are you ready?”

  The head inside the hood bobbed in the affirmative, and the man made his way to the metal ladder leading to the conning tower hatch. Moreno moved to him and placed a hand on the rung at eye level. “I will lead.”

  From periscope depth to surface took only a few seconds, and a klaxon sounded, indicating they were up. Moreno bolted up the ladder.

  *****

  The Talon was banking in a wide circle, turning right, away from Oahu. Vaughn looked out and saw Diamond Head with Honolulu off to the left. He returned his attention to the ocean and cursed. The long cigar shape of a submarine was breaking the surface. And they were still banking in their turn at 10,000 feet.

  *****

  Moreno brought the binoculars to his eyes as the man in the containment suit carefully climbed down to the sprayer with the canisters, then began to screw one of them into the hose.

  Satisfied they were in the right spot, Moreno licked a finger and held it up to the wind. Even given the forward movement of the submarine, the wind was strong from the aft, which would blow the agent from the sprayer on the forward deck toward Honolulu.

  Perfect conditions.

  *****

  Vaughn knelt and peered ahead into the prop blast. He could see a tiny figure on the deck of the submarine next to some device, which he had to assume was the sprayer for the nerve agent. There was another p
erson on top of the conning tower.

  Two.

  That was good.

  Time.

  That was bad.

  Vaughn looked up at the jump lights.

  Red.

  Red.

  Red.

  Green.

  He stepped off the ramp, seeing Tai do the same out of the corner of his eye. He spread his arms and legs, getting stable. Then he began to move his arms and legs ever so slightly to direct his descent toward the submarine. He could see the man in the protective suit working on the machine just forward of the conning tower.

  Shit.

  Vaughn inclined his body forward into an almost direct dive down. He couldn’t see Tai but assumed she was right behind him.

  *****

  “Control, this is Dragon Leader. We have the target on the surface. Two personnel in sight. One in what appears to be a protective suit and working on something that looks like a weapon. Over.”

  Royce clenched his hands into fists. “Do you have the Talon in sight? Over.”

  “Roger. And two people just parachuted out. Over.”

  “Hold your position. Out.”

  Royce closed the computer. It was of no use now. He leaned between the pilots, peering ahead. He saw the submarine, about two kilometers off Diamond Head, nose pointed direcdy toward Honolulu.

  *****

  The man in the suit looked up at Moreno and nodded that he was ready. Moreno looked across the blue water at the lush island ahead, the shoreline scarred with high rises and developments. The way the rich always did—destroying the beautiful for their own selfish purposes.