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Offer of Revenge Page 7
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“I don’t give a shit if it’s full of gummy bears. Who has it now ?”
“It is currently in transit to a contact we know as the Silver Widow .”
I said, “A bit dramatic as far as aliases go. Who is she ?”
“Some old crone. And I mean old old. Rumor has it she can’t even speak any longer. But her relationship to our employer is a sacred one, and we have been instructed to treat her with the utmost respect. No one knows exactly where she is, so we’re playing by her rules, and unless we comply with them, we’ll never see the case much less bring it back .”
“What’s her approximate location ?”
Jais answered by way of turning toward the chalkboard and sliding two of its panels apart to reveal a huge map depicting the jagged outline of a country I recognized at once .
I said, “We’re going to Somalia .”
“No,” he answered. “We’re going to the Wild West. In the next week, you’ll learn more than you ever wanted to know about that country. But, for now, trust me that it’s a failed state in every sense of the word. The closest thing to order they’ve had in the past seventeen years is the Transitional Federal Government, which only maintains control over a few areas in the southern half of the country—where we’ll be going. A relatively new Islamic group named al-Shabaab has captured most of the rest of the country, with the exception of the capital city of Mogadishu. And they’re not that far away from seizing that too .”
“To think I was worried about the situation being complicated .”
He drew a long breath, holding it for a second before releasing an exasperated chuckle. “You haven’t heard the half of it. Depending on the day of the week, you’ve got government forces that may be trying to maintain control on behalf of the state, acting on decrees from their tribal clan, or just raping and murdering for the hell of it. Then there are African Union troops from half a dozen nations roaming the countryside and US military airstrikes being launched against Al Qaeda from a naval group off the coast. It’s total chaos, and that’s the easy part .”
“What’s the hard part ?”
“There are various other organizations, both governmental and criminal, that know the case we’re seeking is in Somalia. They’re searching for it and, of more significance to us, watching all avenues into the country for someone to come and recover it .”
I frowned. “Then how are we getting in ?”
“You tell me, David. How are we getting in ?”
I thought for a moment. “The situation sounds too unstable for us to use a ratline without compromising ourselves or the cargo .”
“That’s an understatement .”
“So I’m going to say we get dropped off at night by helicopter .”
He shook his head. “The militias out there have extensive early-warning networks. Once a helicopter crosses into their territory, spotters will call in its movement and send patrols if it lands. If that happens, we’re dead before we begin. Then you’ve got airport spotters cross-checking all departing flights against the flight plans, so any aircraft taking off unannounced will be reported—which is fine for getting out of the country once we’ve got the case in hand, but not before that. Try again .”
“If a helicopter’s out, then we’re going to have to jump .”
“Very good. And this particular jump will be the most interesting one of your life .”
My mind reversed course to a warm night six months earlier, when I had soared off the roof of Saamir’s building in Chicago, my panicked escape from the guard force’s bullets sending me into a wild freefall toward the fire trucks and emergency vehicles parked less than four hundred feet below me .
I glanced at the ceiling and then back at him. “That’s a bold statement .”
“Ever skydived from a commercial airliner before ?”
I leaned forward, setting my arms atop the table. “No, but you have my undivided attention .”
“So the state-sponsored airline collapsed back in the ’90s. Private firms have filled the void, and one of them flies the route from Nairobi, Kenya into Mogadishu, Somalia. We’ll be boarding in Nairobi and jumping about halfway through the flight .”
He pointed at Nairobi on the map and traced his finger eastward across the border, stopping at a river that bisected the map vertically. “This is the Jubba River, which runs all the way south to the Indian Ocean. Our flight path crosses it near the town of Dujuma, and twenty miles east of that is our exit point and landing zone .”
“So the pilots are on the payroll ?”
“Absolutely not—the organization has its own aircraft and enough fistfuls of cash to bribe foreign pilots, but with the whole world looking for the case, we can’t count on the usual methods going undetected. This infiltration needs to be something no one will expect, so we’ll be hidden in a scheduled shipping container. The pilots won’t even know we’re on board. So, tell me, how do we exit unnoticed ?”
“We don’t .”
“I’ll give you a hint: this is a cargo bird, not a passenger plane. Use your head, David .”
Before considering my response, I replied, “I’ve got seven hundred skydives, and I am using my head. You can’t open the door of a commercial airliner in-flight due to air pressure, so we’d have to use explosives. That alone would cause a catastrophic decompression that we probably wouldn’t survive. Even if we’re equipped for the lack of oxygen and freezing temperatures at high altitude, we’d still be exiting while the plane is flying at a cruising speed fast enough to kill us instantly. And if we miraculously made it through all these factors, the ensuing investigation is going to uncover a shipping container outfitted for two jumpers that remained in the cargo bay. No matter what, we’re not exiting unnoticed .”
Jais folded his arms, watching me with a detached expression and tilting his head slightly. “The shipping container will be filled with humanitarian supplies, and we’ll get kitted up for the jump in Nairobi before getting in the box. There will be no evidence remaining of us having been inside .”
“That doesn’t help all the other factors I just brought up .”
“Then maybe this will. The aircraft is a DC-9-30, which is a twin-engine bird. Everything behind the cockpit is a Class E cargo space, meaning it’s inaccessible by the pilots while in flight and has no fire retardant measures. So as we approach Dujuma, we’re going to set off the smoke detectors in the back. Since the pilots can’t physically check what’s wrong, their standard procedure is donning their oxygen masks, depressurizing the aircraft to cut oxygen supply to the fire, and descending to thirteen thousand feet so they can breathe after their on-board air supply runs out .”
“We’d still need to use explosives to exit .”
“You’re right about that part. I’ll be detonating a small explosive charge to knock out the tail door. We’ll jump through that .”
“Then the airline investigation is going to figure out what happened .”
He held up an index and middle finger. “Mitigated by two factors. First, there is going to be a public claim of responsibility for blowing up the plane, ostensibly released by al-Shabaab on the night of our jump. The group has plenty of motivation to disrupt an aid flight on its way to government control, and it has expanded so rapidly in the past year that the leadership won’t be able to confirm or deny that one of its cells or their sympathizers carried out the attack .”
“And the other factor ?”
“The airline itself is going to prevent outside investigators from gathering forensic evidence. They’re going to conclude it was a failed terrorist attack and continue with business as usual .”
“Why would they stop an outside investigation ?”
“Why do you think ?”
I thought for a moment. “The only reason I could see is that it’s a dirty flight to begin with, and they wouldn’t want anyone poking around the contents of the plane .”
“Yes and no. Our plane will have legitimate aid on its way to the Trans
itional Federal Government—that’s no accident, since it has to appear that al-Shabaab has an incentive to blow it up. But the same airline facilitates a lucrative smuggling racket that funnels arms to the Somali militias, funded by wealthy supporters in the Middle East. The airline’s leadership would be on the blacklist of a lot of very bad people if they allow outside scrutiny of their operations .”
“Okay, I get it. Now, this whole thing sounds really — ”
“Crazy? Trust me, I’ve done the research, and we’ve confirmed the airline’s emergency procedures and their policy of covering up any incidents that would draw attention to undeclared cargo. It’ll work .”
“I was going to say brilliant, not crazy .”
He uncrossed his arms and nodded appreciatively. “I know, right? And since the plane already will have undergone a controlled depressurization, the explosive charge will just create some structural instability. The pilots aren’t going to execute an emergency landing over Indian country, so they’ll make it all the way to Mogadishu. That leaves no crash site for everyone in the area to try and exploit for supplies or propaganda, which means you and I arrive in Somalia undetected .”
I drew a long breath, turning my gaze from Jais to the map. “What’s the landing zone like ?”
“Easy money. It’s all open desert out there, so all we’ll see is a set of infrared strobes set up by the reception party. After we link up with them, we’ll turn over our weapons and GPS and get blindfolded. Only they can take us to the Silver Widow, because she won’t divulge her location to the Outfit. We take control of the case, get blindfolded again, and then they’ll transport us to the foothills outside Saakow, about thirty miles north of our landing zone. From there, a helicopter will arrive and take us east to Mogadishu .”
Nodding slowly, I said, “If they’re taking us to the helicopter, why not just trade the case at that point ?”
“They’ve refused that option already. In fact, they won’t even come within two miles of our pick-up site in case our helicopter shows up early—they’re dropping us off, and we have to walk there. Once the helicopter arrives, it takes us straight to the Mogadishu airport. We’ll board a jet back to San Antonio and then take a small plane to the Complex airstrip right out back so we can hand over the case. And that’s mission complete .”
“Why did you call me Suicide in the interview ?”
He hesitated, watching me coldly. “Don’t ask me anything related to your interview ever again. As of right now, that topic is officially off-limits. When you’re standing on the other side of the glass, you’ll understand .”
“Then I’ve got another stupid question for you .”
At this, I saw a flash of anger cross his face. “But you’re going to ask it anyway .”
“This mission seems pretty straightforward for one person to carry out. Why do you even need a partner ?”
Jais’s features softened. He walked to the corner of the U-shaped table formation and pulled out a rolling chair next to the coffeemaker. Lowering himself into it, he lifted one ankle onto the table, then the other, and leaned back with precision, both hands behind his shaved head .
His hazel eyes watched me patiently. “Two men are always better than one when going into the badlands. And the case is heavy, probably forty or fifty pounds of dead weight. As I said, we have a two-mile walk uphill to our pick-up point. That means one man on point and another hauling the load. So, the truth is, I don’t need a partner. I need a mule. And that’s a perfect assignment to break in a new guy .”
“I’m guessing you were military before this ?”
“Among other things .”
“Such as ?”
“I used to work on a private paramilitary team, the kind of guys this organization would outsource work to .”
I felt a rush of excitement and tried to sound casual as I asked, “Do a lot of guys from those teams come work here ?”
He shook his head. “I don’t know everyone who works out of this place, but I know most of them. And besides me, I’ve never seen any cross-pollination between the outsourced teams and the Outfit .”
That meant one or more of my teammates could still be alive, albeit outside Jais’s purview. But if that were true, then how could he have spoken those particular words in the interview ?
I asked banally, “What’s the difference between those teams and the Outfit ?”
“Anything that can be outsourced to a freelance group, is. The people who work out of the Complex handle whatever jobs are deemed too vital to the organization’s interests to use outsiders .”
“Deemed vital by whom ?”
“People above our pay grade. All you need to know for now is the work you signed up for is unique. It requires either safeguarded organizational methods or very sensitive material .”
“Which one is the mission we’re about to do ?”
He lifted his chin, directing his eyes to the ceiling, his expression empty .
“Trust me, David, when I say that this mission is both .”
5
December 25, 2008
The Complex
“We’re not beating the rain out of here,” I said to Jais, who was seated on the tailgate beside me .
From our vantage point, our backs turned to the pickup bed loaded with our equipment bags as the truck rumbled forward, we watched the bone-white walls of the Complex buildings receding under a swath of mid-morning storm clouds stretching toward us, threatening to unleash a flood at any moment. The tall dirt berms punctuating outdoor shooting ranges appeared in the periphery and likewise swept to our rear, interspersed with the high metal roofs of multi-level buildings for practicing urban combat with live ammunition .
Jais made a disappointed ticking sound with his tongue. “Such a pessimist. We’ll be well on our way to San Antonio before the first drop .”
“God forbid they pair us together again after this, because you can’t tell weather worth shit. After two dozen freefalls together, I was starting to like you, but now you’ve crossed a line .”
He didn’t respond, and I looked over to see his easy smile fading into a faraway look .
“What’s wrong?” I asked .
He hesitated. “After Somalia, we’ll never see each other again .”
“Why not ?”
“This is the last mission before my meeting .”
“What meeting ?”
“With him, David.” His smile returned, but this wasn’t the easygoing, confident look I’d become so familiar with over the past week. This time, his face assumed an expression of dreamlike hopefulness that looked totally alien on him .
I said, “You’ve never mentioned him. Who is he ?”
“Here at the Complex, we call him the Handler. But after I deliver on this mission, I will call him the One .”
“I thought you were never going to speak of him, this guy. The One .”
“Unless you’re chosen to meet him, he’s known as the Handler .”
“Handler. The One. Whatever. How many get chosen to meet him ?”
“Very few. It’s a great honor. Most of the senior operators here have never seen his face and never will. Hell, Sergio’s been here longer than most and he’ll never be granted an audience .”
“Well how did you end up being so fucking special ?”
He said nothing as the truck braked to a stop. I heard the metallic rumble of the sliding gate opening behind us. We pulled forward into the fence-lined space, stopping again before the second gate. The first gate, composed of the same chain link privacy fence that lined the entire complex, slid shut in front of us. The gate’s metal weave was threaded with brown slats that erased the Complex from view as it clicked into place .
Only then did we hear the next gate rattling open, and the pickup pulled forward to reveal the vehicle search area known as the lock-out chamber. Metal poles ending in slanted mirrors used for searching vehicle undersides were leaned against the fence beside the working dog kennel, and
three guards with weapons slung across their chests—two assault rifles and a shotgun—milled about in conversation. The entire scene disappeared as the second gate veiled its presence and our pickup rolled forward past the outer fence that stretched brown and limitless to both sides .
Once the guards were well out of earshot, Jais said, “I got my invitation just before your interview, but I’ve been getting groomed for a while now. Tougher missions, more responsibility. He sees everything, and he liked what he saw out of me .”
“I thought this was an easy mission .”
“It is .”
“Then why is he using his golden boy to lead it ?”
“The hardest missions aren’t always the most important .”
I ran my palms down my cheeks, swiping my fingers together across my jawline. “You know exactly what’s in the case .”
Jais didn’t respond, neither speaking nor looking at me as the dusty white walls of the hangar appeared around us. A high ceiling of crisscrossed metal beams blocked the storm clouds as the driver steered a wide circle under a giant American flag suspended high above our heads. Jais and I now faced the large open hangar doors and, beyond that, the airfield stretching to the east under a turbulent sky of cobalt and gray .
The pickup’s engine went silent, the final echo vanishing into the distant buzz of an approaching plane before I heard the chirp of its tires on the runway .
“That’s us,” Jais said .
He hopped off the tailgate. I followed suit, waiting for him to speak again even as I knew he wouldn’t. Our driver exited the truck, slamming his door shut behind him as he walked to the opposite side of the hangar where a second pickup sat, its tailgate lowered and bed empty .
Another team must have been returning on the plane that was about to whisk me and Jais to San Antonio, I thought .
Once there, we would load our equipment into a shipping container outfitted with mattresses and sleeping bags for our trip. For the next two legs of our journey—eight and a half hours to London Heathrow and then another trip of equal length to Nairobi—neither of us planned to be awake. We had sleeping pills to force rest on the flights, or as Jais called it, “time traveling .”