The Mission

CHAPTER 18

“Okay, okay,” Waker said as he read the intelligence request. He was pumped. He was hooked in to his electronic network, everything coming in and dancing in front of his eyes in letters and symbols his brain automatically translated.

“Perfect timing,” Waker muttered. The KH-12 had picked up the SATCOM transmission as it was being made. Within thirty seconds it had come up on Waker’s screen. And now, three minutes later, someone on the ground in South America wanted the location of the transmitter.

This time, though, he was talking direct back to the man in the field, and that gave Waker a rush. It was as close as he was ever going to get.

He typed, each finger slamming down on the key with authority.

Waker hit the send button.

“We’ve got an AWACS on channel two,” the pilot of the bouncer informed Turcotte.

Putting a headset on, Turcotte switched to channel two. “This is Bouncer Two. Over.”

Circling two hundred miles to the northwest, just outside of the international boundary of Colombia, an Air Force plane was always on station, its mission to catch drug traffickers, part of an electronic wall put in place.

At 45,000 feet, over eight miles, above the Pacific, the Boeing E-3C Sentry AWACS — airborne warning and control system platform — could “paint” a picture of everything within a three-hundred-mile radius using the thirty-foot radome above the center of the fuselage.

Colonel Lorenz was the officer in charge (OIC) of the rear compartment. Most of his crew were veterans of the Gulf War and numerous missions over both the subsequent no-fly zone and this drug zone south of the United States. There was no real threat to the plane itself on this mission, but that didn’t mean Lorenz let things get slack as they “rode the southern fence,” as the drug mission was known among the AWACS crews.

Lorenz spoke into the boom mike in front of his lips as soon as he received acknowledgment. “Bouncer Two, this is AWACS Eagle. We have new coordinates for you.”

The point man stumbled and fell. Faulkener was quickly at his side. The man reached up, grabbing Faulkener’s arm.

“Damn!” Faulkener hissed as the man vomited over his arm.

Toland came up and looked at the man. He was a mercenary who had served with Toland for the last two years. “Can you go on?”

The man groaned and rolled on the ground. Faulkener stood, flicking his arm to shake off the black vomit.

Toland rubbed his forehead. He brought up the Sterling. The man raised an arm weakly. Toland fired twice, then his arms slumped to his side, the Sterling hanging by its sling.

“Let’s go.” Baldrick said.

Toland thought of the two dead drug runners in their poncho stretchers. Two million dollars. Would he make it out of here in time to buy help? “Let’s move.” As they went forward in the darkness, he noted that for the first time Faulkener had not added up their suddenly higher shares.

“Lock and load,” Turcotte yelled. The bouncer came in fast, the pilot using the craft’s superb turning capability to keep them just above the treetops.

In a small open area, less than a hundred meters short of the location they’d been given by the AWACS, the pilot touched down. Turcotte was out of the hatch, followed closely by Yakov and Kenyon. The bouncer lifted and hovered ten feet overhead.

Turcotte scanned the area, but he saw nothing. He began moving forward, and Yakov grabbed his arm.

“What’s up there?” Yakov was pointing with the muzzle of his MP-5 upslope at a tree that had been sheared off halfway up its trunk. Turcotte ran up the slope and crested it. A pile of twisted metal lay at the end of a trail of torn-up earth.

“The satellite,” Yakov said as he knelt next to the wreckage. The scene was lit by a bolt of lightning. Thunder rumbled a few seconds later.

Toland had his small band of survivors moving. He checked out the sky as everything was brilliantly lit. He’d seen this before. Heat lightning, soon to be followed by a torrential rain. Perfect. There was no way they would be found, no matter how close their pursuers were.

“Here!” Kenyon called out.

Turcotte ran over, the others following. A body lay in the grass. Yakov shined a light down and they immediately saw the blood and the bullet holes. But there was also the sign of the disease. Black welts crisscrossed the man’s exposed skin.

“We’re exposed,” Kenyon said.

“Everyone will be exposed sooner or later,” Turcotte said. He was tired of hiding in the suits. There was no way they were going to track down the source by hiding.

Turcotte looked out into the dark. The wind was picking up, and he could feel dampness being carried with it. “Weather’s changing,” he called out. “Back to the bouncer.”