Sabotage (16 page)

There had been few times in Daniel's life when he'd encountered a person who seemed to understand the intricate weavings of the universe as he did. He'd accomplished this in a roundabout way. First, through service to his country followed by a period of time in which he found himself stumbling through life, and finally finding himself and where he fit in this vast world.

The last time he’d encountered “his kinfolk” was when he'd met the brothers of St. Longinus, the secretive order tasked with doing the Pope's bidding. They'd been a wonderful surprise. They were warriors as elite as any on earth and were blessed with an absolute faith in a higher power. This seemed to enhance their abilities and guide their steps. It kept them grounded and elevated all at once.

It wasn't that Daniel had envied those men, and he didn't envy the grandfather, but he strived to learn from such friends. Now that he thought about it, surely there were women with the same insight, who were a blessing to everyone they came across.

The grandfather stirred and opened his eyes as if he sensed that Daniel was thinking about him. He turned, looked at Daniel and gave him a small smile. Daniel smiled back, desiring to know what the man was thinking.

Now they were all beginning to stir. Liberty hopped up from the ground and shook herself off.

“Here, girl,” Christian said.

Liberty trotted over and was happy to give Christian a few licks on the cheek. For all the boy's bravery, he was still just a kid, and Daniel prayed that no harm would befall him.

The grandfather said something to Christian, and the boy looked over at Daniel, confused. There was a quick banter between them before Christian said, "My grandfather wants you to go with him. He says Cal, Dr. Higgins and I should go to the camp west of the city, with Liberty, of course."

“Camp,” Cal asked. “What camp?”

The grandfather rattled off a few sentences which Christian translated.

“He says the military has taken the prisoners there, and we might find some answers. 

“What about them?” Cal asked regarding Daniel and the grandfather’s plans.

“They're going to see his nephew, the president.”

“That's a great idea and all, but I really think we should get to the embassy. Maybe they’ll have a way for us to contact our friends.”

“No,” Daniel said. “I think we should do what he says.”

The grandfather nodded in agreement.

“Are you sure about this?” Cal asked.

“I am. Now,” Daniel said, rising from the floor, “why don't we get going while we still have the cover of dark?”

Daniel and the grandfather wound their way through the city after leaving everyone else at the apartment. The old man led the way. He looked like a marathoner in his prime, never slowing except to look around corners and to stop when patrols neared. No words were spoken. They climbed atop buildings and hid behind cars.

Daylight was coming, and Daniel sensed the gentleman’s pace quicken. Daniel had expected to arrive at either a modest mansion or a presidential palace, so he was quite surprised to find themselves slowing as they approached a narrow street lined with modest homes.

Daniel felt completely exposed as they walked right down the middle of the street, but the grandfather strode with confidence, as if he owned the place. When they reached the end of the block, the old man tapped his chest and pointed to the end unit and said, “Home.”

“I thought we were going to help your nephew,” Daniel said.

The man repeated the gesture. “Home.”

They entered the unlocked front door. The interior was simple and tastefully decorated, as if ample money had been put into the place to make it comfortable, but not so much to make it appear ostentatious. The grandfather locked the door behind him. He stood in the middle of the living room when he called out. Daniel heard shuffling from the back of the small house.

His weapon was ready, should the need arise, but the grandfather stood calmly, and Daniel wondered if maybe he had a servant or family hiding in the back.

The first man to step out glanced around, cradling an automatic weapon. His face was slick with sweat. He looked alarmed when he saw Daniel. The grandfather said something to put the man at ease. There was a brief exchange, and then the big man motioned for the two to follow him to the back of the dwelling.

When they reached the kitchen they were met by two more men. One wore a blood-soaked bandage over his forehead and right eye, and the other bodyguard held one arm in a sling. They both carried weapons and had cast off their suit coats and wore loosened neckties. 

The man with the bandage on his head walked over to Daniel. He was missing one eye, but he leveled his one good eye at Daniel and asked, “Who are you?”

The grandfather said something to the man, but that one good eye never took his gaze from Daniel.

Who are these guys?
Daniel thought.
Friends, local security?

And then his question was answered when a gentleman in a blue suit limped into the room. He didn't even seem to notice Daniel, but moved over to the grandfather and gave him an embrace. Then the grandfather grasped the man's head. The two touched foreheads and the old man said something softly so only the wounded man could hear. Then they separated, and the man looked at Daniel.

“My uncle tells me that you are American and can be trusted. Do you know who I am?”

“You're President Farah,” Daniel said.

The president nodded. “I would say welcome to my country, but this is a very sorry welcome. These men are my bodyguards, and as you can see, only Ali has come away relatively unscathed.”

“What happened to your leg?”

“It turns out that I am not quite as limber as I used to be. I took a fall as we were running away.  Ali had to carry me when we ran for the car. I am sorry, how rude of me, I didn't catch your name.”

“Daniel, Mr. President. My name is Daniel Briggs.”

“It is a pleasure to meet you Mr. Briggs, and if you are a friend of my uncle, I consider you good company. Now, may I ask what is it that you are doing in my country? You don't look like regular military, and I would assume that if you were Embassy staff, you would be there.”

The grandfather turned to face Daniel and gave him a look as if to say, “You can tell him everything. Trust.”

Now was no time to hold back. Daniel gave President Farah the highlights of their journey, starting from the emergency message sent by Vince and finishing with their meeting at Camp Lemonnier.

“Where is Christian?” the President asked. “I know he's a resourceful boy, but I would hate to see anything happen to him.”

“He is with my employer, Mr. President, and I'm sure they'll be fine.”

The president of Djibouti shifted from one leg to the other, wincing as he put weight on his injured knee.

“As providence would have it, I believe we are on a similar mission, Mr. Briggs. It just so happens that before I had to flee my own presidential quarters, I had a conversation with President Zimmer. Would you like to guess what we talked about?”

“Our missing friends,” Daniel said.

“You are correct. My only regret was that before I could tell your president more our connection was severed. Would you like to know what I was about to tell President Zimmer when I was unceremoniously chased from my very home?”

Daniel nodded with fervor.

“I believe I know where your two men are being held.”

Now we're getting somewhere
, Daniel thought.

The grandfather turned around suddenly, his hands held out wide, his palms pointing to the ground as if he were expecting to fall. He murmured something to his nephew who turned to his bodyguards and barked some commands. They scattered to opposite points in the house while Daniel stand firm.

A rattle of gunfire sounded from the back of the house, and there was a scream of pain from one of the bodyguards, no doubt. There was more rifle fire, and now President Farah, the grandfather and Daniel were crouched down in a defensive position. Daniel was about to suggest that they find a way out when an explosion rocked the entire building. The next second, the only thing Daniel saw was the concrete roof caving downward and falling on top of their bodies.

Chapter 22

Vince came to slowly, like his brain was wading through a field of molasses. He couldn't remember where he was or how he'd gotten there. The first word that came to his mind was
Karl
. Where was Karl?

His eyes blinked open and then shut just as fast. He could feel a presence now; someone was near him. But while his inherent scanner was working, his body wasn't, so he kept his eyes closed, patiently waiting for his body’s sensations to return. And return they did; this time with a vengeance.

It started with tingling, first all along his torso, then spreading down his legs, up his shoulders and down his arms, until finally there was a stabbing pain at the end of each of his fingers and toes. It felt like someone was poking needles in the ends of his hands and feet, shoving them ever deeper until they hit bone.

But Vince still wouldn’t move. He tried to focus on taking calm breaths in and out and imagined himself on the rifle range, preparing for a long shot. That seemed to do the trick, as if his body was the rifle, and his inhales of oxygen were dampening it down to perfect stillness.

"I know you're awake," came a voice he didn't recognize. "Open your eyes if you'd like."

There was a hint of an Asian accent there, but so slight that he couldn't determine the dialect.

Vince eased his eyelids open, allowing the dim light to pierce his raw senses. He blinked repeatedly until finally the room cleared. There was a man standing in the corner, sipping on a can of Coca Cola. Vince's mouth watered at the sight, but then he realized who the man was. He was the foreigner from the camp who had taken him and Karl after plunging needles into their necks.

"Where am I?" Vince asked, though his voice was just barely above a whisper. His throat felt raw and dry. He found himself glancing at the can of Coke in the man's hand. What he wouldn't give for one deep gulp.

"You're being held," the man said. “Don't worry. You've been treated well. Would you like to see?"

Vince tried to move his head, and that was when he realized his entire body was restrained. He carefully checked his limbs, pressing firmly against the canvas straps, but they wouldn't budge.

"Here, let me help you," the man said, grabbing something from a table and bringing it over. It was a mirror. He held it up so Vince could see himself.

They'd shaved him. Gone was the scraggly beard and long hair, replaced with a neat high and tight haircut and a perfect shave. He now looked like what he was - an army colonel.

"Your body is the same," the man said. "You've been scrubbed and cleaned, and you will fully recover from the effects of the narcotics. I must say, for a man of your age, you are in peak physical condition."

"Where is my friend?"

"Oh, he will be along shortly. They're just finishing up his bath. I am sure you're hungry. Would you like something to eat?"

"No."

"Something to drink? Maybe one of these?" The man held up the can of Coke.

"No," Vince stated again.

"Very well. As you can see, you have an intravenous line, and you have been given fluids and nutrients during your stay. Feel free to hold out. It's of no concern to me.”

Vince's eyes roamed around part of the room he could actually see. At first he thought he was in some kind of concrete building, maybe a bunker, but when he looked closer, the walls still had the telltale vein of wood that had been painted.

"So tell me, how difficult is your training? Is it like they say, only the toughest and smartest can make it through as a Delta operator?"

Vince didn’t let his emotions show.

"Are you sure?" the Asian asked.

Vince did not answer.

"Come now, Colonel. I thought we'd have a little conversation before the fun begins. What do you say? One elite warrior to another."

"What do you want to know?" Vince asked.

"I have always been curious. In my country it is said that Americans would never be a match for my countrymen. I am obviously not that naïve. So you could imagine my excitement when I was told that I would have the opportunity to speak with not one, but two, Special Operations Detachment Delta operators. So please tell me, Colonel Vince Sweeney, did you always know that you wanted to be a counterterrorism specialist?"

Vince didn't like the fact that the man obviously knew who he was. How the hell had that happened? But he couldn't worry about that now. It was far better to keep the man engaged.

"When I was growing up I wanted to be a dentist," Vince said. "Have you ever seen the movie,
Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer
?"

The Asian man shook his head.

"Well, you see, there's this little elf in there, right? Elves help get all the toys ready for Christmas for all the kids. Well, anyway, so this elf doesn't want to be an elf. He doesn't want to make toys. He wants to be a dentist. Wouldn't you know, I must have watched that movie a hundred times, and that made me want to become a dentist."