Read In Sheep's Clothing Online
Authors: David Archer
Tags: #Action Thriller, #suspense thriller, #Mystery Thriller, #Crime Fiction, #Fiction, #Thriller, #crime thriller
Parker was quiet for almost a full minute. At last, he said, “Camelot, this is an unsecured line. Because it could be easily monitored, I cannot act in any official capacity at this moment. You had already received instructions prior to this contact. Failure to follow those instructions could, under company policy, result in termination. If you choose to implement your plan, it is highly likely that you will face a review. Do I make myself clear?”
“Yes, Sir,” Noah said.
“Very good.” The line went dead.
Noah looked up Captain Hayes’s number in the mission phone and dialed it into the burner. It rang four times before it was answered.
“Roadkill Café,” came Hayes’s voice. “Who’s this?”
“It’s Camelot, but this line is not secure. I have a situation that could benefit from your assistance.”
Hayes hesitated for a couple of seconds. “Dude, I got a call from some old guy who wants you back home on the reservation pretty quick.”
“I’m aware of that, and I’ve spoken with him. What I’ve got going on is pretty well off the reservation, but it’s critical. Has anyone countermanded your original orders to render me assistance?”
Again there was a hesitation, but then Hayes spoke. “Those orders have not been specifically countermanded,” he said. “What’s the gig?”
“Completing my mission and getting my people back. Let’s meet at the place where we first shook hands. Can you be there in an hour?”
“We’re there now. See you as soon as you can get here.”
Noah closed the little flip phone and shoved it into his shirt pocket, then put the car back in gear and headed toward the JSOC compound. The plan had weaknesses, that was true, but it was all he had.
The drive took forty-five minutes, but he saved time at the gate. Hayes was there waiting for him when he arrived, and the guards opened up without a question. Hayes slid into the passenger seat of the Chrysler and looked over at Noah.
“So what have we got going on?”
“Andropov set off a bomb in my hotel and stunned us all, then grabbed my whole team. He called me an hour ago and told me that he’ll give them back, alive and unharmed, provided I perform a service for him. I don’t know yet what that service is, but it’s a safe bet it involves the assassination of someone powerful. I told him I wouldn’t even consider it until I see my people face-to-face and know that they’re alive, so we have a meeting set for eight o’clock tonight. I’ve come up with an idea on how I can get my people back and kill Andropov, but I need backup.”
“I’ve only got a skeleton crew,” Hayes said. “When I got the call to escort you back home, I sent most of my people back to Bragg. There are ten of us here, teams one and two from this morning’s operation, and we’ll continue to follow your orders until I’m told otherwise.”
“That’s all I can ask. Right now, though, I need someplace I can set up some equipment.”
“Our TOC is in the same room where you briefed us yesterday. Let’s head up there.”
When Noah stepped out of the car and turned toward the trunk, Hayes saw that he was limping and offered to help carry in whatever Noah needed. Noah thanked him, and pulled Moose and Neil’s bags out of the trunk so that Hayes could grab the big case with the printer.
“I need that inside, and set up on a table. Then we’re going to hope I can figure out how to use it.”
“Damn thing’s heavy,” Hayes said. “What is it?”
“That’s a self-contained 3-D printer that makes high explosives, forming them into any shape and color. I need to make a few accessories for my little rendezvous tonight.”
Hayes put the case on a table and Noah opened it up. The rest of the men gathered around as the printer extended itself upward and the control computer unfolded from the side.
“Here’s what I’ve got in mind,” Noah said. “I’m meeting someone at Windmill Hill Park at eight o’clock tonight. That person will take me to where my people are being held, so that I can see them. Andropov will be there as well, so that he can try to get me to commit to doing what he wants. Since I don’t know where I’m going, there’s no way for me to prepare anything on site in advance. That means that the only things I’m going to have available to me are things I can carry in on my person.” Noah pulled the chair over to the table and sat down in it. “I need a Colt forty-five, the old army style. Any idea where I can get one in a hurry?”
“I’ve got one,” Hayes said. He went to a pile of gear on the floor near the wall and returned with it a moment later. He handed it to Noah, who laid it on the table beside the printer.
“I’m going to make some things with this printer that I’ll be able to carry in with me. My plan is to be able to place them around the area where my team is being held and use them to take out Andropov’s men and create a diversion. Then, if we can figure out some way you can follow me, I’m hoping you guys will come charging in to the rescue.”
Hayes frowned. “I could put a tracer on you, but these guys you’re dealing with are also pros. If they caught the signal, they’d either take it away from you or kill you.” He chewed his bottom lip for a moment, then turned and called one of his men. “Jimbo! What’s the range on your camera drone?”
Jimbo, a short but lanky Asian man, screwed up his face and thought for a moment. “Around here, all this city around us, I’d say about four miles for signal distance, but it can stay in the air for over three hours.”
“Could you follow a vehicle through the city with it at night?”
Jimbo grinned. “I can follow a firefly with it if you want me to. What’s up?”
Hayes indicated Noah with his head. “Our friend here is going to meet someone in a while and be taken to an undisclosed location. We need a way to follow him so that we can show up to save the day.”
“Easy as pie, man. Just get me on site a little early and I’ll park my baby where I can keep an eye on you. This little puppy is dead silent, I could be ten feet over your head and you’d never know I was there.”
Noah looked up at him. “What about speed? I’m assuming our destination will be somewhere within the area, but we may be doing interstate speeds.”
“No sweat. She can do better than a hundred miles an hour, ain’t no car going to get away from her. I can follow you until you get in a vehicle, and then keep that vehicle in sight until it stops. All we’ve got to do is cruise along behind her, not even close enough for anyone to see us.”
Hayes looked at Noah and shrugged. “Jimbo got tapped for drone training a couple months ago. He’s been dying to give it a try.”
“Sounds like he just got the chance.” Noah was scanning through the saved items in the 3-D printer’s database of designs. He selected a pair of clip-on holsters, one that would fit the .45, and another the right size for Sarah’s Beretta, which was still in his pocket, and told the printer to make them. They would be thick and heavy, but he didn’t expect Andropov’s men to take them from him once they relieved him of his guns. “Now, here’s the other part. These things have a detonator inside them, and they’re far more powerful than any explosive you’ve seen before. I can program them to go off at a certain time, but I have no way of knowing when would be the best time to use them. They can also be detonated by remote control and I’m going to give that to you. You have to be within a mile of them for it to work, so when you see that I’ve gotten where I’m going, you wait fifteen minutes and then set them off. I’ll find a way to put them somewhere in the room or the area before then. Then, as soon as they go boom, I need you guys to come in as fast as you possibly can. I’ll be unarmed when I go in, of course, but I’m hoping to be able to relieve one of Andropov’s men of a weapon after the explosion.”
Hayes nodded. “Fifteen minutes,” he said. “Just be sure you get those off by then.” He looked at Noah’s wrist. “No watch? How are you going to know when to duck?”
“One of the weird little habits I picked up over the years,” Noah said, “is that I’m always counting seconds in the back of my head. It gives me kind of a built-in alarm clock—I always wake up exactly when I want to, that sort of thing. In this case, I can sort of ‘set’ myself an internal timer for fifteen minutes. I’ll do that a few seconds before I step inside, so I should be ready to hit the ground just before you push that red button.”
N
oah drove up to the park ten minutes early, and parked on the north side of Gibbon Street, the southern boundary of the park. He got out of the car and unlocked it, then began walking across the grass to get to the paved octagon with a single tree growing in the center of it. He reached it in about three minutes and stood on the pavement while he waited for a sign of his escort. He had left his Glock with Hayes, but the weight of the two guns and holsters on his belt was at least somewhat reassuring.
A couple of minutes passed and he began looking around to see if he could spot anyone. The only people in sight seemed to be teenagers, but then he saw two men approaching from the opposite end of the park. He watched them carefully and became certain that they were the ones he was looking for.
The two of them walked up to him and one of them asked, “Are you Mr. Wolf?”
“I am. Let’s get on with this.”
The man looked at one another and then motioned for him to follow them. They led him through the playground and across a concrete bridge over a stream, and stopped when they reached a large Mercedes cargo van. One of them opened the back door and motioned for Noah to get in, and the other one followed him inside. The doors closed and a light suddenly came on.
“I gotta pat you down,” the man said. Noah grinned and opened his jacket to show a holstered Colt forty-five on his right side and a Beretta on his left. The man reached slowly to take both guns from him, then slipped them into the pockets of his own heavier jacket before frisking Noah the way a policeman might do.
The sides of the van were lined with seats and the man pointed at them. Noah didn’t need any further invitation; he sat down and waited for the truck to begin moving. He didn’t have to wait long before he felt the big van pull away from the curb and head down the street.
“So where are we going?” Noah asked.
The man grinned and shrugged. “I don’t have any idea,” he said. “The guy up front, he’s the driver. He knows where we’re going, but I don’t.”
Noah grunted and leaned back. He closed his eyes and tried to visualize the distance and turns.
Surprisingly, the ride only lasted about twenty minutes before the van came to a halt. A moment later, the back door was opened again and Noah saw three men with automatic rifles aimed at him. It was obvious they wanted him to follow, so he did so without asking any further questions.
The van had stopped in front of a run-down concrete building. There were only a couple of cars in its parking lot, and only one door was open. He followed his escorts through it and found himself in a dark hallway. There was barely enough light to see at all, and he found himself brushing the wall with his fingertips to be sure he was going straight.
A door opened ahead of him and light flooded the hall. Surrounded by his escort, Noah stepped into a room that had obviously once been used in manufacturing.
Nicolaich Andropov was sitting in a chair at a small table in the middle of the floor. He smiled when he saw Noah and pointed to the chair across from him.
“Mr. Wolf,” he cried. “It is good to see you again. Come, I have vodka waiting for us.”
“This isn’t a social visit, Nicolaich,” Noah said. “First I want to see my people and then we can talk about whatever it is you want.”
Andropov laughed. “Oh, it is as I told you before. You Americans never cease to amaze me. Here you are, surrounded by my men with their weapons trained on you, and yet you presume to make demands. Come, I must insist. Join me for a drink while your friends are brought in.”
Noah glared at him for a moment, then walked over and sat down. Andropov poured vodka into a glass and set it in front of him, then picked up his own. “Let us make a toast,” he said. “To a future of cooperation between us.”
Noah picked up his glass and held it close to Andropov’s. “I’ve got a better one. To the day I get to put a bullet through your other eye.” He clinked his glass against the other, then tossed it back and swallowed it down.
Andropov grinned and shrugged, but drank.
* * * * *
“S
omebody’s coming,” Sarah whispered. “You had any luck?”
“Nope. Whoever tied us up knew exactly what he was doing. Just keep your cool, don’t give them any excuse to rough you up. Neil, keep that sarcastic mind of yours under control.”
“You don’t have to worry about that,” Neil said. “I hate to admit it, guys, but I’m pretty much scared shitless right at the moment.”
A key rattled in a lock and the door was pushed slowly open. Light came into the room and they could see three men step inside.
“Nicolaich said to bring you all to him,” one of them said. He and one of the others stood back with small machine guns pointed at them while the third man quickly cut them loose. Once their hands and feet were unbound, he helped them stand.
“Follow me,” said the man who had freed them. The other two stood out of reach as Sarah, Moose and Neil followed him out the door. When they had gotten into the hallway, the two armed men fell in behind.
They made a couple of turns and suddenly found themselves in a large open bay. Sarah barely bit back a shriek of happiness when she saw Noah, but she couldn’t resist glancing smugly at Moose and Neil. The look in her eyes told them that she was trying to say, “I told you he’d come for us!”
Noah looked them over quickly and decided that they had not been tortured or beaten since he had seen them last. He nodded to them once and turned back to Andropov. “Bring them closer, I want to talk to them.”
Andropov grinned and motioned for the guards to bring them closer. When they were about eight feet away, he held up a hand for them to stop.
“You guys doing okay?” Noah asked.
“Well, the accommodations aren’t as luxurious as I prefer,” Moose said, “and I can’t say much for the entertainment, but at least we’re still kicking.”