Swords of Exodus [Dead Six 02] (34 page)

The rest of the plan was pretty straightforward. The hydroelectric plant itself wasn’t that large, which simplified things. The road that led up from the checkpoint crossed over the top of the dam itself, running from west to east. On the east side, nestled against the mountains on a flat spot, was a cluster of buildings that housed the defensive garrison and part of the dam’s operational crew. There was also a group of huge transformers, connected to power lines that led down into The Crossroads. There was only one way in and out of this compound, and that was across the top of the dam.

The reservoir, which was covered in ice that I assumed was thick enough to drive a truck across, was on the north side of the dam. Trying to cross the ice would be too dangerous, as there were no roads that led to the shore, and there was absolutely no cover out there. Also, the water line was about twenty feet below the top of the dam.

The south side was even less accessible. The dam was over a hundred feet tall, with no easy way to scale it. A river flowed from the south side of the dam, but there was no way for personnel to access the interior from down there.

The road across the top of the dam was the only way to access its interior. A large concrete superstructure, centered on top of the dam, contained most of the hydroelectric plant’s machinery. You had to go through this building to get inside the dam itself. The actual turbines were buried deep inside, and that is where Katsumoto’s team of sappers would be placing their charges. The explosives would have to be expertly placed to permanently disable the dam and compromise its integrity to such an extent that it would collapse, but not right away. That would be quite an accomplishment. Just blowing the thing up right away would have been easier, and I got the distinct impression that that is exactly what Katsumoto had wanted to do.

Our task would not be easy. We were to hold off the garrison, housed in the compound on the east side of the dam, while also holding off reinforcements from the road to the west. We were outnumbered and there was no room to maneuver on top of the narrow concrete structure.

Fortunately for us, Sala Jihan’s forces would have their hands full. There would be an attack on his fortress, which would surely draw the brunt of his attention and the bulk of his forces. The Montalban Exchange’s mercenaries would attack the garrison in town and create a diversion there. With any luck, the assault on the dam would be low on the enemy’s priorities list.

It remained to be seen whether or not we’d have any luck.

Katsumoto surprised me by drawing the group’s attention to me. “Mr. Valentine will be joining us on this operation. His reputation, of course, precedes him.”

All eyes were on me. I waved sheepishly.

“Mr. Valentine, perhaps you have something to contribute? I have been told that you are a very experienced operator, after all.”

Is he putting me on the spot?
I looked at Ling briefly. She subtly nodded for me to speak to the group.
Fine.
I didn’t know what the hell Katsumoto’s problem was, but I wasn’t going to be made a fool of. I smiled at the Exodus leader politely and made my way to the front of the group.

“Uh, hello,” I began. “My name is Michael Valentine. I’m not one of those guys that likes to blather on about his credentials, so I’ll give you the short version just to assure everyone,” I looked directly at Katsumoto, “that I know what I’m talking about.

“I began my career in the United States Air Force before moving to Vanguard Strategic Solutions International. I have seen combat in Afghanistan, Africa, the Chinese DMZ, Bosnia, Central America, and Mexico. Though, being honest, that thing in Central America was pretty uninteresting. I was also involved in the recent mess in Zubara.” I left out the shootout in Nevada.

“Who are the team leaders here?” I asked. Several of the Exodus operatives in the audience raised their hands. “Okay, good. Now, how many of you have ever worked with each other before? I mean, actually were involved in a combat operation, or even a training operation, where you worked in concert?”

The team leaders slowly lowered their hands, awkwardly looking around the room.

“I don’t know much about how you guys operate in the field,” I said. “As was pointed out, I’m not a member of your club. But I get the distinct impression that you primarily operate in small, independent teams, and aren’t always involved in direct action. Am I correct?”

Several members of my audience, now interested in what I had to say, nodded their heads.

I nodded back. “Right. Well, boys and girls, that can cause problems. You have multiple teams that will be operating in the same small area. You guys aren’t used to working with each other. You may do things different ways. Communication is going to be vital here. This isn’t going to be some quick-in, quick-out sneaky secret squirrel shit. We’re outnumbered and in hostile territory. It’s going to get ugly out there. Things will go wrong. You will take casualties.

“What you need to do, guys, is go over every detail of the plan together. Memorize the terrain as much as you can. Pass that information down to the people under your command. Each person on your team should be able to do the job of another. Everyone should know what the plan is, and what the backup plan is. At no time should anyone out there be wondering what to do. There’s always something you can be doing.

“I don’t mean for anyone to get discouraged. I’ve been in combat with Exodus before. You guys are some of the best trained, most disciplined, and most motivated troops I’ve ever worked with. I wouldn’t be coming to this party if I thought it was a suicide mission. Give ‘em hell.”

With that, I smiled politely at Katsumoto, winked at Ling, and strolled confidently out of the room, even though I didn’t really have anywhere to go. I just wanted to make a good exit.

Later on, needing some air to clear my head, I ventured outside into the cold. The sky was overcast, a low blanket of grey clouds blocking out the stars. The world was lit with a dull ambient amber glow from the lights of Crossroads City reflecting off of the snow and the clouds. Snowflakes lazily drifted downward from the sky, and there was no wind. It was almost pleasant. It reminded me of home, of long winters in Northern Michigan as a child.

Behind the crumbling Soviet-era warehouse was a fenced-off lot where a couple of vehicles were parked. Armed guards quietly kept watch. A couple of barrels had fires lit in them. One had a blazing fire going in it, and was surrounded by half a dozen Exodus operatives, talking and laughing.

The other barrel was deserted, and the fire was dying. I made my way over to it and threw on a couple pieces of wood from the pile stacked neatly next to it. I pulled off my gloves and warmed my hands before shoving them in my pockets. That’s when I remembered I was carrying my harmonica.

I removed the instrument from my pocket and examined it by the glow of the firelight. It was an old Hohner Super-Chromatic 12-hole that had belonged to my father. I held it in my hands and remembered him. He died when I was young. After all these years, I couldn’t remember what his face looked like.

We’d spend summers at his cousin’s hunting camp in the Upper Peninsula, deep in a forest at the end of a dirt road. We’d have a campfire every night, and my dad would play his harmonica and tell stories to us. Sometimes my mom would be there too, but usually she’d go inside and make dinner, since she’d heard all of my dad’s stories a million times. But my little cousins and I were always riveted, no matter how many times we’d heard them.

My father would tell us stories about being in the Air Force. He’d been a navigator on a B-52. I remembered laughing as he’d talk about playing his harmonica while in flight, driving the rest of his crew crazy. He told us about the time his BUFF got hit by an Iraqi SA-2 during the First Gulf War, and no matter how many times I heard the story, it always had me on the edge of my seat.

“I didn’t know you played an instrument,” Ling said, startling me. Her breath smoldered in the cold air as she stepped close to the burn barrel to warm herself.

I smiled. “I haven’t played this thing in a long time. I keep it because it’s the only thing I have that belonged to my father. What are you doing out here? Can’t sleep either?”

Ling shook her head. “Not yet.”

“Something on your mind? Talk to me, you’ll feel better. Something about the plan is bothering you, isn’t it?”

“The plan is good enough,” Ling said. “We’re making the most out of the assets we have. It’s risky, but Katsumoto and I discussed it at length and I couldn’t come up with any viable alternatives.”

“But . . . ?”

“This entire operation is bothering me, Michael,” Ling said, shoving her hands in her pockets. “Sala Jihan is a blight upon the face of the earth, there’s no doubt about it. It’s just . . . ” she trailed off momentarily, looking around to make sure no-one else was within earshot. “It’s just this whole thing seems rushed. We’re trying to get more people in place, but Ibrahim won’t wait.”

“The longer we wait the more likely it is we’ll be found out.”

“I understand that. My issue is with the timing of this whole operation. We should have waited, gathered our assets more carefully, and moved from a position of strength. Now we’re committed to doing this while understrength, having to rely on outsiders for support.”

“Hey,
you
asked
me
to come along.”

“I didn’t mean you, Michael. I meant the Montalban Exchange. I don’t like this deal with them. I don’t like it at all. That woman, Katarina, is broken. I’ve seen such things before. In most cases the people were victims of the most horrific kinds of physical, emotional, and sexual abuse. I don’t know what happened to that woman, but she’s . . . she’s . . .”

“She’s fucked
up
is what she is.” I hadn’t met the woman but I’d heard about everything that had transpired with her.

“As you say,” Ling agreed. “And there are disagreements on the execution of our own portion of the operation.”

“Disagreements? About what?”

“Katsumoto wanted to destroy the dam outright and flood The Crossroads.”

I raised an eyebrow. “Thousands would die if you did that. There are people here that are not involved in this. Women and children.”

“That is the argument that Ibrahim made. Katsumoto insisted that it was worth the price to destroy the base of Sala Jihan’s power for sure.”

“Isn’t that why they’re going to kill Jihan?”

Ling sighed, a puff of steam forming in the air as she did so. “There are no guarantees that he will be successful.”

“You guys keep talking about this asshole like he’s Sauron in Siberia. Jihan is only a man, Ling. Everyone has gotten spooked by all this hocus-pocus crap he pulls. He’s just a warlord with a bunch of crazy, drugged-up followers. I saw the same thing in Africa.”

“Perhaps,” Ling said, trailing off. “It’s just that if Ibrahim fails and The Crossroads remains, then we will have accomplished nothing here.”

“What do you think? Should we just blow the dam?”

“I think if Exodus had had such scorched-earth policies when they found me, I wouldn’t have survived to join. Yet Sala Jihan is a far greater evil than the human traffickers I knew in China. The plan is the best compromise we could come up with. I just hope it works.”

I smiled at her. “I’m glad you’re opening up to me a little bit. You’re one of the few people I know here. I feel like the outsider I am.”

“I admit I can be . . . standoffish . . . at times,” she said slowly. “Please don’t take it personally. It’s just . . .”

“I know how it is. I haven’t been super fun to be around lately either. I damn near shot Lorenzo back on the island.”

“So I heard.”

“Oh, don’t worry, it’s fine now. I think.” I laughed.

Ling smiled. “To be honest, I feel alone too. Shen and Antoine have been assigned to the main assault. They were the only members of my sword that were still with me.”

I felt bad for Ling. There’s a certain loneliness that comes with command. A lot is required of you to lead men into combat. “What happened to your team?” I asked hesitantly.

“It’s nothing dramatic,” Ling replied. “We took casualties in Mexico. I wasn’t . . . am not . . . the most experienced team leader. I shouldn’t have gotten a mission so important, not with Ariel’s life hanging in the balance.”

It all came back to that girl and her secrets again. “Don’t sell yourself short. That was a bad op from the very beginning, but you accomplished your objective in the face of impossible odds. By rights, none of us should’ve gotten out of that hellhole alive.”

“By rights, I shouldn’t have been in charge there in the first place,” Ling said. “But there was no choice. My team was in Mexico and there simply wasn’t anyone else available. We lacked the means to get to her on our own.”

“So you hired us. Decker was an ass. How were you able to convince my old boss to go along with it?” Adrian Decker had been the operations manager and CEO of Vanguard Strategic Solutions International. After the fiasco in Mexico, the UN had wanted to put him on trial at the Hague for war crimes. He got out of it, though. Decker always had a way out.

Ling raised her eyebrows. “You don’t know? Michael, Adrian Decker had done work for Exodus before. Several times. We don’t like to outsource work but we do build working relationships with outsiders. He was certainly receptive to our propositions.”

“He was always receptive to money.”

“Indeed, but he was discreet and reliable, and his personnel were the best that could be hired for any price. In any case,” Ling said, “You know the rest. You were there. It all went to hell. I lost good men.”

“So did we.”

Ling nodded. “After that, I was given missions that weren’t direct action. Support missions of different sorts. Things where a large strike team was not required. Personnel rotated in and out of my sword as necessary. Only Shen and Antoine stayed with me, by their own choice.”

“Did Exodus
punish
you for Mexico? Like that was your fault! You did everything humanly possible, and don’t you ever let any asshole that wasn’t there tell you any different.”