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Authors: Dee Henderson

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BOOK: True Honor
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She’d gone before he could say good-bye. She’d briefed them and left by the time the four NATO planners finished up their tactical briefs. Some things war didn’t allow, and the luxury of time was one of them. At least he had her picture. And a reminder. She had left the medallion he had given her from the wedding reception in the pocket of his jacket, a finely braided chain showing she had worn it for some time.

“What do you think, Chief?” Bear asked, kneeling beside him.

Sam glanced at his CO and pulled his thoughts away from Darcy back to the job at hand. “Brandon’s got a good plan. The house and compound are set back from civilian homes; the road is cut into the hillside on a pretty good grade. Terrain works in our favor. We’ve got good divisions of responsibility. Three teams—one to take the house, one to take the back of the compound and garden, and one to secure the road.” He outlined the plan on the map. “The helos land here and here for egress, then we dash to the sea. The huge risk is the fact that it’s a daylight action, but that appears to be the only way to grab Dansky.”

“We want him alive, but it’s not an at-all-costs mission parameter.”

“We’ll have close parity in good guys–bad guys ratio, we’ll have surprise, and we’ll have the tactical advantage. We act when the meeting is breaking up. That gives us the best intel on how many people we’re dealing with. It lets them be at their most relaxed at the end of their big meeting. The plan is to divide and conquer as Dansky leaves. We cut him off on the road and isolate him from the compound. That allows us to minimize the risks to the team going in and hauling him out. We hammer them with suppressing fire and have snipers doing the critical work of protecting our guys. The helos bring the big firepower just before egress. We want Dansky. It’s worth the risks.”

“It’s a good plan, Chief.” Bear got to his feet. “Come see the bigger picture we’ve worked out for this.”

Sam rose and joined his boss.

“The CIA has a team of three men watching the compound from a house located here, halfway up the hillside as it curves around. They also have access to a second vantage point, here, that provides coverage of the back of the compound. We’ll put recon teams in at dawn to both sites. I want you and Brandon going into this one to confirm the situation on the ground.” Bear indicated on the aerial map. “Spotters will set up at these perches before the mission starts and get video in place so that all three teams will have full visuals on the compound. If Dansky doesn’t arrive, if we are dealing with more tangos than expected, if there’s a question about being able to execute the snatch, we’ll have three alternative plans: fall back and wait for night, strike with air power, or from the ground take out specific individuals. Washington will be viewing the spotter feeds and making that call.”

Sam nodded. “If they decide against a snatch and just want to take out the cell, this gets straightforward. It’s a fortress but that’s also its biggest weakness. The Brits proved that in Algeria. We wait for night, then sweep in.”

Bear slipped his pen into his pocket. “I want you to plan one more option for me, Chief. Assume the worse and one of our teams gets discovered—we have a firefight from the compound, a firefight coming toward us on this road, and our helo for egress can’t get in.”

Sam judged the lay of the land in the maps and let it suggest an answer. “Fall back to . . . here, snipers close this area to all comers, and we acquire transportation to get us to another extraction point, say by boat from here.”

“Okay,” Bear agreed. “Get the pieces together so they’re in our back pocket if we need ’em. I don’t trust the weather, helos coming in at low altitude, the direction of street signs . . .”

Sam laughed. “I’ll get on it, boss.”

JANUARY 20

Sunday, 6:27 a.m.

Morocco

Sam went in with one of the two reconnaissance teams at dawn. They inserted into Morocco by sea along a deserted stretch of beach, were met by the CIA station chief, and driven to the safe house being used to watch the compound. Perspective changed when the area was seen from the ground. Resting on a mat, Sam stretched out on the roof of the house and used binoculars to scan the area. “We need to move the team handling the road a little farther south to take advantage of that foliage. It blocks line of sight to the house. We move when Dansky’s car clears that point. It’s a natural fire zone, the street narrows, not allowing the vehicle much movement once it’s blocked in.”

Brandon beside him studied the setup and nodded. “We set a charge behind that wall and the debris will close the way forward. Four guys coming around the wall in the car’s blind spots race up either side, disable the driver, and yank Dansky from the car. We can land the helo forward of that location.”

Sam turned his attention to the compound. “When you blow that wall to stop the car, we lay down fire into the front of the compound; that forces people back. They’ll have a hard time getting fire out the front of the building without making themselves visible. Snipers pick off any who try. The helos come in, land, and the snipers fall back to egress.”

“Weather is good; visibility is good.”

Sam nodded. “Signal Bear. The mission’s on.”

Twelve

* * *

JANUARY 20

Sunday, 3:15 p.m.

Madrid, Spain

“Why don’t you sit down,” Gabriel suggested.

Darcy paced. She couldn’t sit, not while the SEALs and the SAS were going in based on her intelligence. It was a daylight raid and incredibly dangerous. The video feed was dark. “How long before we get something?”

“Would you relax? We’ll get copied on the feed. The director put through the approval personally. And we’re going to owe him favors for the next decade for it.”

“We set up the mission intel fast. What critical items have we missed?”

“Dansky is there. He was spotted leaving the racetrack and driving toward this town. Thatcher won his race; Dansky will be in a good mood. This is going to happen, and the guys on the ground know how to think on their feet and adapt if necessary.”

The live feed came on, the camera image facing an adobe wall. “Yes!” The picture bounced around. She tilted her head to the side to right the image. “Those are chocolate chip cammies and an SAS insignia. We’ve got a feed from the Brits. All right, guys.” She collapsed onto a chair in front of the set, leaned close, and tried to absorb every impression, hoping she would see Sam.

“We’ve got to get you into the field more often. You’re going four-wall crazy,” Gabe punched the Record button to capture the feed for replay.

The image shifted and looked down at the front of the compound. She wanted to be the one on the ground collecting those early surveillance pictures. “When we go after Luther, I want in on it.”

“Keep dreaming, dahlin’.”

“Do we get the U.S. feed too?”

“If there is one, we’ll get it,” Gabriel reassured. “There are at least forty specialists at Defense and NSA watching the feeds to identify people, but Chip said he’d like your best guess on IDs as well.” The DIA officer was coordinating this live transmission.

“He knows I would tell him anyway.” The pictures stabilized and telescoped in to focus on a compound some distance away. “A clear day, this is good clarity.”

The second video came up, showing images from the back of the compound area, giving a full view of the garden.

She settled in to try and identify the members of this terrorist cell as they moved from the house to the gardens and back inside. “They’re getting ready for a meal and a meeting. There doesn’t appear to be a great hurry.”

“Notice the fact they are serving themselves? There isn’t any house staff around.” One man appeared to carry what looked like a torchlight into the garden seating area.

Over the next forty minutes Darcy sighted each of the six men who were part of the Moroccan cell in the compound. “Good, everyone is there.”

The guards settled into what looked like a fairly regular security patrol of the compound grounds, containing a house and a walled-in garden with what looked like a parking area on the east side that had a higher wall around it. “Interesting that in an hour of watching, there are no signs of a phone call or radio message.”

“They’ve learned,” Gabe agreed. “Communication is face-to-face.”

“Here, we’ve got something happening.”

Two trucks arrived first, and several men bearing automatic weapons spread out to provide security. Cars, interspersed by several minutes of quiet, followed the trucks as men providing security tensed with each arrival.

“I can’t believe this,” Darcy finally said as they watched the fifth car pull away.

“Believe it,” Gabriel replied. “We were due a lucky break at some point in this war.” He had picked up the phone to check in with DIA on this unexpected turn of events. More cars kept arriving.

“This is like a convention of the terrorist who’s-who list.” She circled her finger on the screen identifying men now standing around the inside walled garden, greeting each other. “That man was behind the USS
Cole
bombing, those two Russians have been indicted for their embassy explosion, and the Swiss want this man for the downing of an airline last year.” The SEALs and Brits had to pull this off. This was the first major break in months.

“DIA agrees. They’re rapidly changing plans. Dansky is celebrating his horse winning, and he invited some friends over.”

“Thank you, Dansky. Who else did you invite?” She could feel her excitement building. “The war could take a major step toward being over today, and we’re watching it happen. Can they adapt to this?”

“This kind of chance opportunity has been on the CINC’s mind since this war began.”

A car with tinted windows arrived, and one of the two men guarding the house stepped forward to meet the guest. Darcy watched the back door open and leaned forward to study the picture, hoping the man would glance left and give them a direct visual of his face.

“Battihi,” she breathed. “He rarely travels outside of Egypt. He came along with the explosives?”

“I don’t think he brought an armored truck with him to be subtle about it.” Gabe grabbed the secure phone as they watched the armored truck pull into a secure area of the compound.

Darcy was on her feet. She watched Battihi look around, walk up the path, and disappear into the house. “The assault team has to wipe out that shipment. Can they take Battihi along with Dansky?”

“Chip, it’s Gabriel. That last guy is Battihi. Yes, we’re confident. Can they adjust to try to take that shipment of explosives that just came in?” Gabe stayed on the phone as the military planners sorted out options.

The second image covering the back of the compound showed the men beginning to move and sit down. “The meeting is starting. Battihi must have been the last expected guest.”

“Thanks, Chip.” Gabe hung up the phone. The second image zoomed in tight and brought Battihi’s face into focus. “The guys on the ground have word he’s there. He’s on the list of prioritized targets to take out. This mission is on the clock now.”

The camera focused there for about thirty seconds and then pulled back and began to review the entire area in a systematic sweep. The men she knew that were part of the Moroccan cell were not part of the meeting but were standing as security at various points within the compound. The camera moved to a wide view and stabilized.

She watched as discussions, some of them animated, continued among the group. “I would love to have a few bugs in that compound.”

“Same here.”

Gabriel watched the growing list of people being identified. “This is a coordinating meeting between different terrorist groups. They are finally deciding isolation makes it harder to act. They don’t realize just meeting together also makes them all vulnerable.”

“We’ve been financially squeezing the groups individually; they have to work together to survive.” Men began to rise to their feet. She tensed. “The meeting is breaking up. They’re going to be leaving any moment.”

“A few minutes yet. It’s becoming social, and now the real power brokers will be talking in small groups.”

Darcy leaned forward to try and see who was talking with whom. She blinked at a sudden movement of white across the screen. The house blew up, imploding from the inside. She jerked back. “What was that?”

“Justice,” Gabriel replied coolly. A second flash appeared in the dust cloud. He studied the two different angles of the compound as rubble began to appear. “The building collapsed in on itself. A crater marks the remains of the garden. Notice the compound wall absorbed the blast wave and toppled outward? It looks like minimal damage around the area. You wanted to know what the CINC would do given the unexpected guests. There’s the answer. Two smart bombs hit the house and grounds and took them all out.”

“It’s cold.”

“They’re combatants in a war they declared, and they’ve spent their lives killing civilians. My only regret is that we didn’t stop them months ago,” Gabe replied.

“The armored truck was just buried in the rubble. It didn’t explode.”

“The problem with smart bombs is sometimes they don’t do enough collateral damage.”

“What will our guys do?” Darcy asked.

“My guess is they were falling back long before that missile hit. I wouldn’t want to be across the street when it came in. They’ll get out while the Moroccan police try to figure out what just happened. If that shot came from offshore, the missile may not have even shown up on radar.”

Darcy hoped he was right, that everyone who had gone in for this mission was safe. She watched the images from the observation perches tilt as they were moved and caught a glimpse of soldiers kneeling and methodically breaking down and packing equipment before a steady hand turned off the camera. The movements from the soldiers on the ground weren’t desperate or hurried as if they were dealing with trouble. They were packing up after a job accomplished.

“We just put a huge crimp in Luther’s group.” Gabe pushed himself to his feet, pausing to make sure his legs would take his weight. He ejected the tapes and put them in his safe. “Go lock up your office and grab your keys. We don’t have Dansky to interrogate for information, but I’ll take this exchange. That strike probably permanently eliminated some planned operations for the first anniversary of the World Trade Center attack. The fallout of this is a problem for tomorrow.”

BOOK: True Honor
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