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Authors: Scott C. Glennie

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BOOK: Kicking the Can
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“Don’t do it,” another commando said. Wu stood over him for several seconds before he holstered his pistol and shifted his weight off his throat so the injured soldier could talk.

“If you beat her, the others will see the physical abuse and know.”

“The file contains all the details of our proposal,” Jiang said, pleading. “The other development is stock
offering. If they cut health care spending, it will cause recession.” Jiang felt her heart pounding in her throat.

“Our proposal was written to issue more debt to fund health care reforms, but we don’t think it’s viable, given America’s debt load. The stock would be secured by net worth of US citizens. Proceeds from stock offering will retire debt held by foreign countries…China should be repaid in full.”

Wu adjusted his body armor and secured his assault rifle for the jaunt to the beach. He held up his hands and signaled for the soldiers to move into cover formation, time to head back to the beach. Wu formed the shape of a pistol with his hand and extended his arm at Jiang’s head, pretending to execute her. The sneer on his face disappeared into the dawn. Jiang fell to her knees and then pitched forward. Her elbows and head dug into the sand. She wailed.

96

C
hris Drummond was on his third cup of coffee when Dain slipped through the outer door and closed it behind him. He would never acclimatize to Dain’s ability to sneak into a room. It was 5:12 a.m.—twenty-three hours to “D-day.”

“You’re up earlier than usual.”

“Can’t sleep.”

“I learned to sleep two hours at a time, even if I knew I was on patrol in a few hours. You reach equilibrium—between scared shitless and total exhaustion.”

“Jiang’s been secretly meeting with the Chinese…north shore, ninety minutes ago.”

“How?”

“Inflatable. I counted four soldiers. I witnessed her encounter crouched behind a palm root. I’d be dead if they had thermal imaging. She gave them a thumb drive. We should assume they know the details of the white paper.”

“The disappearance of Gupta’s backup?” Drummond asked.

Dain nodded.

“The soldier slapped her around. Son of a bitch just stopped short of killing his comrade, who came to Jiang’s rescue. Look at her cheek…You’ll see a bruise.”

“How can the leaders of the world expect to trust each other when their countries are engaged in widespread covert spying?”

“Trust and verify,” Dain said. “That’s my motto. But why would she betray us? The Chinese gain if we’re successful.”

“I know why,” Drummond said. “She shared with Baturina. Her parents are in jail. She helps…they release her folks.

“Let’s hope they interpret the proposal as a good thing,” Drummond said.

“I communicated with my buddy. We have allies at Qatar…the Octagon Group, OG. It’s a PMC whose niche is multinational corporations headed in the Middle East. OG is protecting the world’s largest liquid natural gas terminal located at Qatar.”

“How far?”

“Distance between Qatar and Dubai is two hundred fifty miles. OG is leasing a Predator drone from the US Air Force. The air force stripped its offensive capability, but the unmanned aerial vehicle allows OG to patrol the waters around the gas terminal without the use of conventional aircraft. The region’s a no-fly zone. Any helicopter or fixed-wing aircraft in the region will paint radar. OG has agreed to be our eye-in-the-sky. They can’t extract or provide direct military support unless coordinated through the air force.

“The ruler of Dubai owns this place. The air force will launch if they confirm gunfire or explosions. They fly A-10s for low ceiling aerial combat support…at three hundred sixty-five knots, thirty-five minutes out. The base has Black Hawk and Huey helicopters…at two hundred twenty-five knots, fifty-five minutes out. We need to buy sixty minutes. If we can slow them down long enough for aerial surveillance to affirm the island is under attack, we can expect America’s finest out of South Carolina to kick ass.”

Dain cleared off the table and spread out two maps. The drawings were crude, but Drummond could identify the markings corresponding to the layout of the compound and island.

“My belief is they will come under cover of night: four fifteen a.m., the time they gave Cala, is too precise for routine supply. Once on the island, they’ll benefit from ambient light. It’ll make
locate and terminate
easier. Twenty five minutes to cover two and a half miles…ten to fifteen minutes to sweep the compound and set the charges…and another twenty minutes out. Total time less than an hour.

“OG will notify us when the supply boat approaches…lots of yachts in the region—rich oil sheiks party. We’ll assume all craft are hostile.

“The island is man-made—except south, which has natural atolls and a reef, and north along the bluff and rock structures. They’ve built a breakwater using what nature gave. Without it, Isle Airy would be susceptible to tidal surge. A channel was cut so the water is deep enough to accommodate large pleasure craft.”

Dain uncapped his water bottle and took a swig. Drummond poured another cup of coffee and vetted the map.

“I swam to the breakwater yesterday afternoon. There’s a mechanical winch imbedded in concrete on the west side of the channel mouth. I’ll swim out and grab the lite line—a nylon rope connected to the three-eighths-inch cable—and drag it across to the other side so I can winch the cable over and close the channel. It will block the boat from being able to enter and make the south entrance unassailable. Either they’ll have to swim for it or bring the boat onto the island from the north shore.”

“There’s no coral shelf on the north side of the island…The crescent-shaped lagoon on the northwest corner is navigable. It’s deep enough for them to land,” Drummond said.

“I concur. The island is populated by variegated foliage, which will provide good cover until they reach the complex. I tracked Jiang through the foliage last night. It’s possible to move at a brisk walk, but running is out of the question. If you know where to look, there’s a trail system. Bennett’s mercenaries will think they have the element of surprise. They’ll also assume we are unarmed, which might make them cocky. They’ll stay on the pathway for two miles and then fan out, forming a skirmish line, forcing everything in front of them toward the complex and beach.”

Dain used his finger to trace the distance from the lagoon to the point he expected the goons to enter the
trees and fan out. He also identified a brown line he drew signifying a primitive trail.

“The topography of the island should extend the wireless range for communication to a mile or more. Ten minutes advance warning. We’ll use heat detection devices on the perimeter and motion sensors around the complex.”

Dain pointed at placements marked for the security detection devices. “Those will be configured to show activation on your panel in the safe house.” Dain slid the first map off the table and then centered the map of the compound and southeast beach area.

“We’ll use video cameras in the structure to track their interior movements. I’ll add video surveillance to the clear-cut north of the mansion. Using the communication headset, you’ll feed me their movements.”

“You’re going to be severely outmanned. And a pistol against assault weapons…” Drummond said.

“Thanks for your concern, but I have a couple of ideas—
pepper potting
.”

“Huh?”

“Shoot and scoot, a maneuver to slow them down,” Dain said. “I’ll fortify a bunker on the beach with sand bags to protect the mechanicals in the aquatics room. I’ll try to draw them down the main pathway past the fountain. We place video cameras here, here, here, and here. I’ll need assistance from Lowsley and Gupta to set up the cameras and the security devices. I’ll kill as many as I can and hold them off at the bulwark of sand bags. They won’t know the team is underwater in the safe house.”

“You’re going to join us?”

“I blew out an eardrum in an underwater explosion. I can’t pressurize my ears…Changes of more than one atmosphere cause excruciating pain.”

“Shit…That looks like a suicide mission,” Drummond said.

“This isn’t my first rodeo…Remember what I said about
country.
I have the edge. Besides, do you have any better ideas?”

“Put Lowsley on the radio, and I’ll stay on the island with you. There must be something I can do?”

“Drummond, these are trained killers. I appreciate the thought, but if you’re dead, what’s the point. The proposal is just a piece of paper without its ‘champion.’ We can’t risk your life. I mean it…no heroics.”

“What are we going to do with Jiang?” Drummond said.

“We keep an eye on her, but don’t let on about last night.”

97

T
he team finished busing dishes. Drummond directed them to meet in the conference room. It was time to begin the solemn conversation. Drummond noticed Jiang avoided eye contact and seemed more quiet than usual. He saw the bruise and thought her lip looked swollen.

Dain was the last to enter the room. He was in full fatigues, and for the first time he wore his side arm and a heavy-bladed combat knife strapped to his waist. If he was dressing for impact, it worked—silence.

“Our lives are in jeopardy,” Dain began. It took ten minutes for Dain and Drummond to make their case: the original threat to participate in the contest, the word-processed note with Bennett’s monogram, the assassination of Duncan and Haines, and Cala’s recorded interrogation. Dain left out Gupta’s missing thumb drive from his executive summary.

“I suspect it was more than a coincidence President Cannon put Dain in our midst. He’s an experienced soldier,” Drummond told the others.

“We don’t have much time, and we have a lot to do,” Dain said. “We need to organize into work groups. The island retreat is owned by the president of Dubai. Our plan
is to relocate the team to the safety of the underwater suite until we can be evacuated from the island. I’ve been in contact with Octagon Group—it’s a private military corporation. They have resources on Qatar, two hundred fifty miles to the west of us. They’ll launch drone surveillance. If we come under attack, they’ll call in the US Air Force to our defense.”

Lowsley remained calm—poker-faced. Gupta was tapping his foot a hundred miles an hour. Baturina and Jiang held hands. Vogel looked at Drummond. He knew she wondered how long he and Dain had hidden the truth from the others.

“By show of hands, how many know how to scuba dive?”

Vogel’s, Jiang’s, and Lowsley’s hands went up. OK—a good start.

“Vogel, I need you to conduct a training session in the pool—like the abbreviated resort diving courses. Let’s say three this afternoon,” Drummond said.

Vogel nodded in agreement.

“Lowsley and Gupta, you need to help me until then. We need to complete the security sensors, video, and the bunker and beach trench.”

Lowsley and Gupta both gave a thumbs-up.

“Their mission: kill us and destroy all of the proposal documentation. We can’t let that happen. Gupta, once you relocate to the suite, we need you to transcribe our proposal so we can send a digital copy to OG. I’ll explain how the communication software works. The word processor is rudimentary. It could take six hours or longer to input the file into a machine-readable format. I’m not
sure the spreadsheets and data files will be compatible. You’ll need to experiment,” Dain explained.

“What about the employees?” Baturina said. “We can’t leave them to die. We must warn them.”

“It’ll increase the risk to us,” Dain said.

“I don’t care,” she said.

“We’ll think of something,” Dain assured her.

“There are caverns on the north shore,” Drummond said. “They’ll be hidden and protected.”

“I will stay with them. I don’t know how to swim,” Baturina said.

Jiang squeezed Baturina’s hand.

“You won’t need to swim,” Jiang said. “I’ll show you how to breathe underwater with regulator. All you’ll need to do is hold me. I’ll tow you.”

“The suite is southeast of the aquatics center,” Drummond told them. “We’ll move the scuba equipment to the pool for our orientation and then gear up. We’ll initiate the shore dive from the beach in front of the pool at nightfall.”

98

P
eter Lowsley muttered to himself, “Dammit, Gupta!” On edge, he paced the pool deck, looking up the pathway toward Isle Airy every time he reached the north end of the pool. With a young family at home, he had a lot to live for. There were no assurances the boat would come at the appointed time. It was dark enough for them to make the shore dive under the cover of night, and he was anxious to start. They were vulnerable.

“We can’t wait any longer. Gear up.”

Four minutes later Gupta came bounding down the pathway. The others had already donned exposure suits and were adjusting their weight belts. Their masks were pulled over their heads, dangling around their necks.

“Where have you been? You’re late.”

“I needed to take a leak,” Gupta said with a smirk on his face.

“Next time pee in the ocean!”

“Is that what you teach your children? Pee in the pool!”

Lowsley ignored him.

“I moved your tank and BC to the beach with the others.”

“Thanks, Dad.”

“Are you sure Dain’s laptop is protected? Without it, we’re screwed.”

“I wrapped it in two Ziplock bags, and it’s inside a vinyl waterproof bag made for white water rafting.”

Lowsley checked on the others.

“Grab your swim fins and head to the beach,” he told Gupta.

Drummond was in the ocean checking his buoyancy. He was transporting a change of clothes for the team. He tied the lanyard from the vinyl bag to his weight belt. He walked backward until waist deep. He then sat down in the ocean, his partially inflated BC supporting his weight. The fluorescent glow of a green light stick illuminated his face. He flashed a thumbs-up and then depressed his valve, purging air, until his head disappeared under the water’s surface. He turned on his flashlight, and a white beam swept across the ocean floor like an automobile headlamp. The light started to move away from the shore at a forty-five degree angle east.

BOOK: Kicking the Can
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