Apocalypse unleashed

23

United States 75th Army Rangers Temporary Post

Sanliurfa, Turkey

Local Time 0754 Hours

“You can’t leave Sergeant Gander there, Captain,” Alexander Cody said.

Remington ignored the CIA section chief. The captain was already deeply aware that he couldn’t leave Goose behind in Harran. OneWorld NewsNet was making him out to be a hero. Again.

The news channel’s screen remained split, displaying the continuing attack on Harran as well as looping the footage that had been shot of Goose’s own struggles to stay alive.

“If the sergeant dies,” Cody said, “we’ve lost the only link we have to Icarus.”

Remington was more conscious of Goose’s public image. Goose had gotten a lot of international attention whether he’d wanted it or not. Abandoning him in Harran, especially when he was risking his life to bring home a wounded fellow Ranger, was out of the question.

“Lieutenant Archer,” Remington barked.

“Sir.” The junior officer wheeled about rapidly.

“Get me a twenty on First Sergeant Gander. I want a sat-eye and constant GPS on him.”

“Right away, sir.” Archer abandoned the marker board and hurried over to the computer techs.

“Black Angel Leader, this is Base.”

“Go, Base.”

Remington peered at the large computer monitor that displayed the overhead view of the city. He spotted the ten Black Hawk combat choppers winging over Harran from the north. Farther south, the Syrian forces had slowed only slightly, like waves crashing onto a rocky shore.

“I need a pickup performed inside the town,” Remington said. “I want a pilot who can sit one of those birds on a dime and take off again in the heat of battle.”

“Affirmative, sir. I have just the man.”

“Get him up front first to off-load those mines, then have him double back. I want him on a private frequency to handle the pickup.” Remington rattled off the channel they’d be using for the exfiltration.

“Base, this is Black Angel Eleven,” a calm male voice said over the new frequency.

“Eleven, this is Base. First Sergeant Gander is loose in the streets with a wounded Ranger. He’s not going to make it to the evac site. I need you to pick him up.”

“Understood. Happy to do it, Base. The top has always been a good guy in our books.”

Remington resented the implied familiarity with Goose. Even though the sergeant didn’t make a conscious effort to get to know everyone, it always seemed like he did. Faces and names, as well as the circumstances where he’d encountered them, just came easily to Goose. Remington was convinced that Goose could walk up to a fence post and strike up a conversation.

Switching to the frequency Goose was monitoring, Remington called for him.

“I read you, Base,” Goose answered. His voice sounded strained and distant.

“You’re not going to make the evac, Goose,” Remington said.

If Goose was upset at the news, he didn’t let it show. “I’m sorry to hear that, sir. I’d counted on it for Johnson’s sake.”

“One of the Black Hawks is going to pick you up. We’re negotiating an LZ right now.”

“I appreciate it, Captain. We’ve lost enough good men out here today.”

Remington glanced over at the television and discovered that Danielle Vinchenzo was back on the air. There was no picture, but the audio was coming through, and a transcription was being printed across the split screen under looped segments of the rescue of the Rangers in the house.

“Is that reporter always so close to Sergeant Gander?” Cody asked.

“No, but she is a lot of the time. Too many of the wrong times, as it turns out.”

“Captain,” one of the security teams called in Remington’s ear.

“I want no interruptions,” Remington said.

“Understood, sir. But you also left orders to let you know if a reporter from OneWorld NewsNet showed up. There’s one here now, sir.”

Remington glanced back at the door to the command post. A clean-cut young man with blond hair stood in the doorway. An older man carrying a camera case in one hand stood beside him.

“Show them in,” Remington said.

The young man crossed the floor and extended a hand. He exuded confidence and competence. “I’m Josh Campbell, Captain Remington. It’s an honor to meet you.”

“Mr. Campbell.” Remington took the young man’s hand and released it.

“This is my associate, Ben Howard.” Campbell nodded toward the cameraman.

Howard inclined his head but didn’t say anything.

“What are you doing here, Mr. Campbell?” Remington asked.

“My news director, at the request of Nicolae Carpathia, sent me here to get your story.”

“Why?”

Campbell smiled hugely, exposing keen white incisors that were made for the camera. “Because your efforts here in Sanliurfa are important, Captain Remington. Nicolae feels that the world should know about them.”

Remington noticed how easily the younger man threw around Carpathia’s name. It was like they were old friends. Strangely, the usage didn’t hit the captain’s lie radar.

“Nicolae has big plans for you, Captain,” Campbell said.

“What plans?”

Campbell grinned again and shook his head. He mimed zipping his mouth shut. “Nope. You’re not going to hear it from me. That’s Nicolae’s surprise to spring. I’m just here to make you look good and make sure the whole world knows who you are.”

“Sir,” Archer called.

Remington glanced at the lieutenant.

“We’ve located Goose.” Archer touched one of the computer screens.

“Find me a location where a Black Hawk can sit down,” Remington ordered. “Then get First Sergeant Gander there.”

“Yes, sir.” Archer turned to the task.

“I can see you’re really busy at the moment,” Campbell said. “Maybe you could point us to an out-of-the-way place.”

“Corporal,” Remington addressed the guard who had brought the newsmen over.

“Sir.”

“Escort these men to a neutral area. Keep them in the loop, but sit on them.”

The corporal saluted smartly and led his charges away.

“Having the media underfoot isn’t a good thing.” Cody scowled in irritation.

“Maybe not if you’re living the life of a cockroach and can’t stand the light,” Remington said, feeling better about things already. “I’m not involved with anything that’s going to send my career down in flames.”

“You’re involved with me. I’m involved with Icarus. If that man shows up at the wrong time, if what he knows falls into the wrong hands, everything over here could go wrong.”

Remington gazed at the man coolly. “You’re making me think I should reevaluate this working relationship we have.”

“That’s not what I meant.”

“Then perhaps you should think more quietly,” Remington suggested. Personally, he was looking forward to having his story told in the media. This was where he belonged: in the limelight. He turned his attention back to the events unfolding in Harran.