Apocalypse Dawn (34 page)

Curiosity filled Remington. He knew the agency was a big factor in securing the humint-human intelligence-so necessary in waging the ground war against the Taliban in Afghanistan. During the Vietnam War, the CIA hadn’t enjoyed a good reputation, but as far as the Fitzhugh administration was concerned, the agency seemed unable to do any wrong. Remington knew the truth didn’t match up with the public image. The undercover agent Goose and his team had extricated only that morning proved that.

“Bring the man in, Sergeant,” Remington ordered. “I want him unarmed and under heavy guard. Treat him like a potential hostile.”

“Yes, sir.” Tolliver saluted, turned a sharp aboutface, and left the room.

Remington spun and faced the tech team again, catching several of them just turning away. In the space of a drawn breath, he was staring at the backs of their heads again as they strove fruitlessly to reconnect the lines of communication.

The captain kept his attention forward when the sergeant returned with the CIA section chief moments later. He pushed his breath out slowly and chased his anger and frustration into a comer of his mind. Those emotions had their place, but now he needed the calm cool he was noted for.

“Captain Remington,” Tolliver said. “Agent Cody is here.”

“What can I do for you, Agent Cody?” Remington posed the question without turning to face the man.

“You can’t do anything for me, Captain,” Cody stated in his unctuous voice.

Remington spun on the man with the compact ferocity of a hunting cougar. “Then you’re wasting my time, mister.”

Section Chief Cody flinched and took a half step back before he caught himself. He looked rumpled and definitely the worse for wear. His coat had been taken from him, leaving him in a sweat-stained white shirt and suit pants. His empty shoulder holster hung under his left arm.

“Captain,” Cody said, “I assure you that-“

Remington raised his voice, blowing Cody’s words away. “I sent my men to recover one of your lost agents just over two hours ago. The hostile who escaped sent a signal that triggered the Syrian attack against Turkey-“

You don’t know that,” Cody argued.

Remington cursed, beating the CIA agent down verbally till he closed his mouth in surrender. Embarrassment pinked Cody’s ears and cheeks, and he blinked rapidly as he struggled to hold the Ranger captain’s fierce gaze.

“I’m thinking seriously of having you placed under arrest and thrown into the brig until we can sort out the disappearances of my people,” Remington said.

“What disappearances?” Cody asked.

Remington studied the man. If the CIA agent was feigning surprise, he was doing a credible job. Remington pointed at the stacks of uniforms. Unwilling to release the exact number of losses within his group, he said, “I’ve had people disappear while they were sitting in front of me. I never saw a thing.”

Cody was in motion at once. He walked toward the nearest uniform. “Then it’s started.”

Remington was so surprised at the man’s movement that he was slow to react. Tolliver stepped forward immediately, reversing his weapon and slamming the butt into Cody’s head. The CIA section chief dropped. Before he could try to get up, the sergeant placed a foot on the back of his neck, pinning Cody facedown against the floor. Tolliver planted the muzzle of his M-4A1 in the man’s left ear.

“What are you doing?” Cody demanded. His voice came out raw and rasping. Panic widened his eyes. His hands flailed.

“Don’t move,” Tolliver snapped.

Cody froze.

Remington eyed the man with renewed interest. “What’s started?’

Tentatively, Cody rolled his head over so he could peer up. “I came here in good faith.”

-Ibis time?” Remington showed him a thin smile.

“Both times,” Cody insisted. “I was under orders, Captain. Surely you can appreciate that. I was told to keep your knowledge of Icarus’s mission to a minimum.”

“So you chose not to tell me that the people holding your undercover guy could trigger the attack?”

“We didn’t know that.” Blood showed on Cody’s cheek where Tolliver shoved the rifle muzzle.

“But you suspected it.”

We didn’t know what Icarus had.”

“And now you do?”

“No.”

“Why?”

“Because we don’t know where he is.”

Remington digested the news. The communications had been off too long after the initial attack for Remington to tell Goose not to release the wounded agent from his sight. During the confusion of rescuing the survivors of the attack on Glitter City, Icarus had disappeared either on his own, with help, or had been abducted by a team Cody had planted with the media people.

“Did you have a rendezvous point set up?” Remington asked.

“Of course we did.’

“Then why didn’t Icarus make it?”

Cody hesitated till Tolliver prodded him with the rifle barrel. “I don’t know.”

“What are you doing here?”

“I came back here to offer help,” Cody said.

“What kind of help?”

“Your computers have been infected with a virus. Not just the ones here, but all those along the line. Probably all the computers involved in this operation.”

‘“That’s not possible. There are security measures, firewalls, all along the way.”

“This morning,” Cody pointed out, “you would have said that the Syrian attack was not possible.”

Remington said nothing.

“The Syrians have been planning this attack for over a year,” Cody said. ‘They penetrated the mil-net at least a few weeks ago.’

“With Icarus’s help,” Remington said, remembering the information he’d gotten from the man while he’d been in Goose’s custody.

.we think they were in before that. The CIA is not totally culpable in this.”

-Felling me we’ve been hit with a virus-even if it’s true, which I doubt-isn’t help.”

“I know.” Cody acted patient, like a parent talking to an unruly child, and Remington totally disliked the behavior. “I can give you access to another satellite system.”

Remington curbed his frustration with the situation. “What satellites?”

“Satellites leased by the Romanian government,” Cody said. “Other satellites that Nicolae Carpathia owns and has offered for your use. “

Remington knew the name. Carpathia was an international figure, and part of the reason the U.N. peacekeeping forces and the United States Army Rangers were presently incountry. Carpathia had taken his own country by storm, becoming the darling of the population over the last few years after getting off to a less-than-sterling beginning. Yesterday, the president of Romania had stepped down and suggested that the legislature appoint Carpathia as their new president. In a surprising turn of events, both houses had unanimously done just that.

Before becoming a member of the House of Deputies in Romania, Carpathia had been a shrewd businessman who had his fingers in many international business ventures. He’d gotten rich. Remington wasn’t surprised to learn that Carpathia had invested heavily in communications, and satellites would have been one of the most natural investments.

“Why would Carpathia offer satellites he controls?”

“Because he believes in the stand the United Nations and the United States are making here,” Cody said.

“Why doesn’t he make the offer to the Department of Defense or President Fitzhugh?”

“How long do you think it would take them to make a decision regarding using Carpathia’s satellites?”

Remington took in a breath. The truth was, he knew it would take the president, both houses of Congress, and the Pentagon much longer than it would take him to make such a decision.

“You can make this happen?” Remington asked.

“I’ve got a satellite phone out in my Jeep,” Cody said. “Nicolae is waiting for your answer.”

Blind and deaf as he was in the current operation, Remington knew he was a sitting duck waiting to be picked off by Syrian troops who would no doubt storm across the border within hours-maybe even minutes. To keep that from happening, the Ranger captain knew he would make a deal with the devil himself if he had to.

“All right,” Remington agreed. “Let’s see what Carpathia has to offer.”

Turkey

“Is anyone still inside?” Goose jogged toward one of the helicopters that had landed more or less intact. The rescue operation of the stricken Marines arriving from USS Wasp was only minutes old. Flames still claimed several of the Sea Knights, and Marine aircraft lay in thousands of pieces. This helicopter’s rotors had been broken and the aircraft canted over to the left. Someone had opened the tail cargo hatch, allowing easier egress from the CH-46E.

A Marine staggered out of the tail section while partially supporting a fellow soldier. Blood tracked the faces of both men. “I don’t think so, Sarge. Me an’ Kelly, I think we’re the only ones that came down in the Bullfrog that made it alive.” He glanced at his companion. “An’ Kelly, he ain’t doing too good.”

Goose pointed out the tents that were going up on the northern side of the ridge. “There’s a triage station up on that hill, Marine. I’ve got some of the medics from my unit up there that will take care of you till we get transport units set up to medevac you back to Wasp.” At least, that was the plan. Goose still had no idea if he could make it happen. Communications with the Ranger command post hadn’t happened yet.

The Marine nodded.

“Do you need help?” Goose offered.

“No thanks, Sarge.” The Marine shifted his buddy’s weight against him, offering more support. “Me an’ Kelly walked into this op on our own two feet, an’ l reckon we’ll finish up our bit of it the same way.”

“Fair enough.” Goose turned from the two Marines and stepped into the Sea Knight. There were plenty of soldiers who needed help and immediate rescue. And there was a lot of information that needed to be assembled. His boots rang hollowly against the helicopter’s metal deck.

Five corpses lay stretched out inside the helicopter. All of them were young Marines. Normally, the sight would have staggered Goose. But now, after seeing the immense landscape of death and carnage laid around him, he was too deadened inside to react. He prayed for them, for God to take their souls into his loving embrace, more out of habit than conviction.

Two uniforms and piles of gear sat near the corpses. They were stark reminders that Goose still didn’t know what had happened to Bill.

Goose took the small notebook and pen he’d been using from his combat harness. Working quickly, he jotted down the presence of weapons, ammo, and medical supplies that the Sea Knight carried and noted the two FAVs that occupied much of the cargo space. The Marine fast attack vehicles, built like dune buggies with wide tires and stripped bodies, were armed to the teeth. Both vehicles inside the helo looked salvageable and were still locked into the tie-downs securing them to the deck. Tanaka and Dewey were already coordinating salvage operations from the helos that could be entered and were using every available man who could be spared from the rescue efforts to assemble weapons and supplies. The FAVs would be additional transport as well as prizes in their own right.

Only one of the RSOVs the Phoenix squad had taken for their mission had survived the unexpected aircraft fallout. The other had been buried under tons of flaming helicopter. The surviving vehicle was presently being used to ferry the more gravely injured from the arriving Marines. Other RSOVs were on their way from the front line, but they were bringing wounded from the front lines. Goose had already assigned some of them to help with moving the Marine survivors to the triage and others to help salvage the weapons, ammo, and gear the helos had carried.

Goose also jotted down the names of the dead men, and the names of the two missing men, copying the information on their dog tags. Lieutenant Colonel Troy Folsom had been the commanding officer of the battalion landing team designated BLT 2/6. Three rifle companies-Echo, Fox, and Golf-comprised the backbone of the unit. The heavy weapons company and the light armored reconnais sance platoon currently assigned to USS Wasp backed the rifle companies. The lieutenant colonel was currently listed among the missing. His staff sergeant, Delbert Murchison, was severely wounded and lying unconscious in the triage center.

If possible, Goose was going to let the Marines care for their own dead and select an officer able to collect the dog tags. But if that wasn’t possible and the Turkish, U.N. peacekeeping, and American forces were routed from the border, Goose wanted an accurate record of those lost and missing. He’d ordered his men to record the information as well, and the men working the triage were taking down names of the missing from the injured who were able to give them.

Given the number of empty uniforms being reported, Goose didn’t expect to find them all. The number of missing was staggering. Nearly one man in three was gone, leaving only his uniform and gear behind.

Goose worked his way forward to the cockpit. When he looked inside, he saw that both pilots were dead, victims of the shrapnel that had broken through the Plexiglas. Judging from the deep slashes in the cockpit, two or more rotor blades from another helicopter had cut into the area.