Echo Six: Black Ops 4 - Chechen Massacre (31 page)

Rovere caught his eye. "The FBI may not be too pleased when they find out the base commander helped us out."

"Masterson, the Special Agent in Charge, suggested we travel by road," Brooks told him, "so there won't be any misunderstandings. We’re just going along with the Feds."

Talley smiled.

Technically it’s true, except the part about us leaving long before the FBI’s HRT is cleared for the incursion into Tribal Lands, a minor detail.

Virgil Kane offered to take the wheel. They piled into the SUV, and Guy road shotgun in the front passenger seat. As they left the air base, Talley checked the mirror and saw Masterson run out of the warehouse the FBI was using. The expression on his face was interesting.

"It’d be best to use the back roads," he told Virgil. "I have a suspicion the FBI may try to put a block on us getting there. We'll have enough problems handling the Apaches when we arrive on the reservation. They'll be madder than hornets when we go in."

Virgil nodded and asked Guy to set the satnav to find the fastest route. Brooks seemed thoughtful for a few moments and then turned to Talley.

"One of the guys you rescued from that Taliban prison was a Native American. I've clean forgotten his name. Do you recall him?"

The pieces started to fall in place. They were heading to a tribal reservation, and they needed a friendly Indian. It only took a few seconds thought to bring up the name. "Second Lieutenant Jesse Whitefeather, USMC."

Talley remembered the calm, implacable Indian, who seemed to have weathered his incarceration better than his fellow solders.

Brooks nodded. "That’s the guy. While you were in Russia, I kept up with the base hospital at Bagram to keep a check on their progress. I’ll make some calls and try and track down Second Lieutenant Jesse Whitefeather."

Virgil kept the accelerator flat to the floor, and they ate up the distance between Luke Air Force Base and the Apache reservation. Brooks made a succession of calls, getting directed from one person to another as he chased up the Marine Lieutenant. They were halfway to their destination when he finally got through.

"I've got him. Quiet everyone; I'll put him on speaker. Lieutenant Whitefeather, this is Vice Admiral Brooks. I run the NATO outfit, Echo Six, that broke you guys out of that Taliban cave."

There was a pause for a few moments, and then the officer replied. He sounded unfazed. Calm.

"I was expecting you to call. What can I do for you, Admiral?"

Talley and Brooks exchanged glances. Some kind of security leak?

"You recall Lieutenant Commander Talley?"

"Sure I do. Tell me what can I do for you?”

"We're about to go onto an Apache tribal land to bring out his two sons. They were kidnapped, and they're being held there. It's located in East-Central Arizona. We were hoping to contact someone who wouldn’t be too unhappy about us going into tribal lands."

Whitefeather chuckled. "The White Mountain Apaches. You knew I was Apache?"

"Yes, at least I understood it likely, and I just hoped you could help us.”

A pause. "My cousin works for the Bureau of Indian Affairs Police Force at White Mountain. He's a BIA Special Investigator. I can persuade him to give the go ahead.”

"We’d be very grateful. Talley’s sons are being held at White Mountain."

"Whatever I can do, consider it done, Admiral. I’ll be there for you.”

“Lieutenant, we’re only an hour away from White Mountain. We need to go in right away. We can’t wait for you.”

“Yes, I am at White Mountain now.”

They were silent for a few moments. Coincidence? What else could it be?

“My cousin’s name is Whitefeather, first name Albert. I’ll call him and let him know you’re on your way.”

"Do you think he'll go for it?"

“Yes. Go to the Police Post when you arrive at the reservation. We’ll be waiting for you.”

"That'd be great, Lieutenant, and thanks again for your help."

"No problem.”

Brooks ended the call. "We were lucky. I know nothing about Native Americans, and he could have been from a rival tribe, someone they don't get along with."

"Listen up, people," Talley interjected. "I want to be clear about one thing. The guys that took them, it's open season."

They all nodded. He saw Alessandra staring at him. "What?"

"Your face, Abe. Just then, you looked as if you were about to kill someone."

"I’m just tired, that’s all."

She nodded, but she knew.

Too bad, there’s only one punishment for kidnappers and murderers, especially where your own family’s concerned
.
Am I chasing revenge here? No, justice, there’s a difference.

“I remember the marine, that Native American,” Guy said thoughtfully. “Didn’t he say he’d help us out, just after we got him out of the caves?”

“Yeah, I believe he did.” Talley recalled his exact words.

‘When you need help, I will be ready.’

How the hell did he know?

* * *

Rovere played with the satnav, finally got it working, and put in the coordinates for the kidnappers’ location. They were only ten klicks from White Mountain.

"We arrive at the resort on Highway 73, and we drive straight on past the casino. The target is a couple of klicks off the road, so I guess they must have some kind of hunter’s cabin up in the woods. Far enough away to be out of sight, but near enough for them to get their supplies from the resort store."

"And gamble away their ill gotten gains on the craps table," Brooks commented acidly.

They crossed the tribal lands, a sparse, desolate area of woodland, partly cleared. But the roads were recent, and newly built houses were dotted amongst older, decaying wooden shacks. The casino had brought prosperity to White Mountain, but not for all.

As they drew nearer to the garish building that was the centerpiece of White Mountain Resort, Virgil spotted the Police Post and pulled up outside. Two men were waiting in the mid-evening chill, in front of a long, brick-built modern building. One of them wore the uniform of the Tribal Police, a short sleeve blue shirt, with a blue baseball cap on his head. Next to him was Jesse Whitefeather, the man they’d rescued from the Taliban. The two men could almost have been twins; both carried the same calm expression on their faces. Jesse looked to have made a remarkable recovery in such a short time, a testament to the toughness he’d displayed when they pulled him out of the caves half-starved, yet still resilient. He wore a brown Carhartt coat over denim jeans tucked into high jump boots. In his arms he carried a Ruger bolt-action hunting rifle.

“I’ll go talk to him,” Brooks told the rest of them. “Talley, maybe you’d better come too. He seems to know you best. The rest of you stay here. I don’t want this to look like an invasion.”

They climbed out of the vehicle and approached the two Indians. Brooks shook hands with both men, and Talley greeted Jesse Whitefeather.

"Good to see you, Lieutenant. You're looking better than when I last saw you, out in Afghanistan."

"It's healthy living in these mountains," he smiled. "Good food, fresh air. You should try it sometime, Commander. You look like hell."

Talley explained they were back from an operation. The marine nodded and turned to his cousin.

"I guess we'd better find out what these guys are after." He turned back to Talley. "You said something about your boys, a kidnapping. You believe they’re here?"

Talley explained about how they'd pinpointed the satphone call to a position two miles from the center of the resort. "As soon as it's dark, we need to go in and get the boys out. We have to wait. If they see us coming, they may kill them and make a run for it."

The cop nodded. "You'd better come inside. I have a large-scale map of the area, and we can take a look at this place."

They followed him into the building, a large, well-lit air-conditioned space with cops and civilians busy working at computer screens. A couple of them were talking on the phone. They smiled at one cop who was wrestling a drunk to the floor, shouting at him to stop being such an asshole. Albert grimaced.

"It's a big problem around here. White man's firewater," he grinned.

"It's no different in any town or city," Talley assured him. "And when they're not wasted on alcohol, they're high on drugs, which is something else entirely. Where's that map?"

Albert pointed at the door. "On the wall of the conference room, through there."

They followed him into the room. There was a huge table in the center. One wall was almost entirely taken up by a large-scale map of White Mountain Resort. Talley handed the Indian the GPS coordinates.

"This is what we have from the phone call."

The cop looked at the slip of paper and made a calculation on the map. His finger stabbed at a place deep in the woods.

"This is it, an old goldmine. It's been closed for over a hundred and fifty years, and it’s become derelict. Never got started. The prospectors came, but they found there was precious little gold in the earth. They could have dug deeper, I guess, but my ancestors weren't too thrilled about a bunch of palefaces stomping all over their land. There was some trouble, and more than a few fights, before the prospectors left town with arrows sticking out their wagons."

"It sounds just the kind of place felons would choose for a hideout, "Talley observed. "They’d also be banking on the fact it was outside of normal law enforcement jurisdiction. I assume no one goes there these days?"

Albert shook his head. "Not for a long time. It's in the center of a dense piece of woodland, all grown over since it was abandoned all those years ago."

“I understand.”

"Boss."

He looked at Guy. "What is it?"

"Do you want me to go up there and take a look?"

He weighed up the advantages, against the possibility of tipping off the kidnappers.

But Guy can move in almost total silence, like a ghost. Except that unlike a ghost, he frequently leaves a trail of dead bodies in his wake. Even so…

"It's a hell of a risk."

"Not for an Indian," Albert Whitefeather interrupted him. "I'll go. Me and Jesse here can move through those woods without anyone being any the wiser."

"He's got a point, Guy."

"Fine with me. This is their territory. Just so long as we have an idea of what we're up against. I don't want to go in there blind."

Talley nodded. "It's appreciated. While you're gone, we'll get ready to go in. Is there anywhere we can get a good meal around here? It's been a long time, and we'll need the energy."

Whitefeather nodded. "You guys do look pretty beat. There's a diner down the street. All of us cops go there. Jesse, I suggest you go down and arrange for some takeout. You guys look like you've just come out of a war zone, and they might ask questions. You can eat in here while I'm checking out that site. I can drive to a break in the woods about a mile away, and I'll go in on foot from there."

"As long as they don't hear you. You know what's at stake."

"They won't hear anything. That’s a promise."

* * *

Dark had crept over the mountains, and even the gaudy illumination from the resort failed to penetrate the dense forest. Albert Whitefeather, armed with a heavy Smith and Wesson .45 automatic, led the way in from the road where they’d left the vehicles. Jesse insisted on going alongside Talley, and he wore a police ballistic vest, like his brother. He'd abandoned the hunting rifle in favor of a handgun, his personal Glock 17, a 9mm automatic. Thick forest was no place for close-in fighting with a long rifle. Brooks and Alessandra stayed with the vehicles, in case the hostiles tried to make a getaway by hotwiring them. They also guarded Colonel Ho, still incarcerated in the trunk. Before they went in, Talley had laid down the ground rules for the assault.

"You know what’s at stake, and what we're trying to do. Use handguns and knives only. There won't be room for much else in that forest, and besides, I don't want anyone cutting loose with an assault rifle with children running around. If you do have to take someone down, it has to be from up close. If possible, I’d prefer to stick to the knives; less chance of any accidents." He glanced briefly at the two Whitefeathers, who both carried hunting knives in ornate leather sheathes hanging from their belts.