“That’s a good copy. When you have a chance, go ahead and move out. We are going to find a way around.”
“Roger that.”
Barnes waited for Boz and Villa to get into the van before he jumped in. He did a quick head count before telling Scottie to move out. Harden already had a route planned and told Scottie to get off the road and drive south. They took it slow as they navigated the terrain, but once it flattened out he was able to pick up the pace. The dust made it hard to see even with night vision, but Scottie was a pro at driving in shitty conditions.
“Anvil 6, we are clear and heading to objective one,” Jones finally reported.
“We will see you there.”
It took them an hour to skirt the settlements and get back on the main road. Harden navigated while the men topped off their magazines and conducted a brief after-action review.
“Villa, I messed up not picking up that extra guy in the house. I didn’t have the angle I thought I did,” Barnes began.
“No worries, boss. I should have picked up that ditch and I should have had a better position off the road. You saved my ass by flanking those shit bags.”
“Hoyt and Jones should have picked that up on the way in and reported it,” Harden said from the front.
“I think I did pretty badass saving everyone. I wish these AKs didn’t suck so I could have kept the high ground,” Boz said.
“Boz, don’t you need to brush your teeth or something?” Scottie called from the front seat.
“You just keep driving and maybe one day when you grow up, you can go on missions with the big boys.”
Barnes waited until the laughter died down before he spoke.
“I want you all to focus on the days ahead. All of our sacrifices have brought us here and our actions will finally turn the tide. While others have given up on the cause, you men have answered the call, and for that I am eternally proud. If I must die to change the world, I will at least take my enemies to hell with me.”
The air was electric as he paused to look at his men. They knew what was at stake and were ready for whatever lay ahead.
Barnes let the silence speak for itself. The colonel’s placid exterior hid the caustic hubris that had been driving him for the past six years. He was good at masking his intent, but the fact remained that his pride demanded the blood sacrifice that his team was about to pour out on the world. All the lofty talk about duty and honor clouded the issue and took the spotlight off the simple fact that Barnes would kill as many people as it took to break the back of radical Islam. It was his belief that it was America’s role to pacify the region, and he was more than willing to go from country to country to achieve his goal.
Harden told the colonel that they were coming up on the outskirts of Damascus and would be arriving at the safe house that Dekker had purchased for them a few days earlier. The team was looking forward to a few hours of downtime before the final push. As they descended from the hills, they could see the lights of the ancient city sprawling out before them.
Scottie had stowed his night vision and was back to using the headlights as he merged into the light traffic. He was glad that the house wasn’t in the heart of the city, because Syrian drivers were terrible. When they were ten minutes out, Harden was able to get Jones on the radio.
Jones told him that they had a green light to come to the house, and Harden began directing the driver through the maze of streets. The house was located in a residential area that was close enough to the target area without being right in the middle of the bustling city.
Barnes felt the tingle of anticipation as he drew closer to his destiny. Tomorrow a new war would begin, and there was no one that he would have to answer to.
CHAPTER 31
Bagram had changed since Mason was last there. The airfield had doubled in size, but it was still eerily familiar. It made him anxious to be back in Afghanistan, and a sense of fear washed over him as he shouldered his assault pack and set out to find his prey.
He pointed out the Joint Special Operations headquarters, which looked exactly the same as it had the last time Mason had seen it. It was a small building surrounded by a concrete wall, and the sight of it made him feel very exposed as he unconsciously felt for the pistol on his waist.
The compound’s wall was made from Jersey barriers that had been stacked three rows high. The barriers looked exactly like the ones you would find at a construction zone or on the freeway. The wall was about ten feet tall and topped with razor wire. The only other security that he could pick out, besides the guard, was a camera mounted on a wooden pole near the entrance.
A guard sat out front, in a green plastic chair, enjoying a cigarette while basking in the sun. His rifle was leaned against the concrete wall to his left, but he didn’t seem too worried about anyone bothering it.
“Are you sure that’s it?” Zeus asked, looking for the additional security that he assumed he was missing.
“Yeah, that’s it.”
Zeus shrugged and told Mason to stay where he was. The American opened his mouth in protest, but his friend was already walking casually toward the guard, who seemed to be more interested in blowing smoke rings than doing his job. He was able to get within five yards before the guard lazily got to his feet. Zeus showed him his identification card and the two men began talking.
Zeus was careful to keep his head down and away from the camera while he spoke to the guard, and after a few minutes the Libyan turned and walked back to Mason’s position.
“That young man is very polite for an Egyptian. He knows the man we are looking for and told me that he had a very long night and is sleeping in his room right now. Allah always smiles on the faithful.”
“So, what are you thinking? Should we go wake him up?”
“I don’t want to be rude, but we are pressed for time.”
“Well, let’s do it.”
They found a line of Toyota Hiluxes parked near the edge of the compound, and Zeus spotted a set of keys in the third truck he checked. Mason got in the passenger seat, while Zeus drummed along with the CD playing in the cab.
“I like this band, the lady has a good voice. Who is it?” he asked as he drove.
“I don’t know. It’s some kind of teenybopper shit. Do you have any idea where you’re going?”
“Yes.”
“Are you going to tell me?”
“Not until you tell me the name of this band.”
“I told you that I don’t know.” Mason hit the eject button on the CD player and pulled the silver disc out of the deck. “It says Lady Gaga. Like I said, I’ve never heard of it. If you don’t tell me where we’re going, I’m going to throw it out the window.”
“Put it back in and I’ll tell you.”
Mason slipped the disc back into the stereo and hit the play button. “Done.”
“We are going to the modular housing.”
Zeus slowed the truck to a crawl as he approached a row of modular housing. The “mods” were metal trailers that had been converted into barracks and each had an address attached to the upper-right corner of the building. Once you found the correct row the numbers ascended from front to back.
Mason dug through his assault pack until he found a lock-pick set, a pair of gloves, and a cell phone. He wouldn’t have the luxury of conducting the interrogation the way he wanted, so he was going to have to improvise. He lifted out four black zip ties before closing the bag.
“He told you all of this in a ten-second conversation? How did he know where to find the guy?”
“Just because he guards the CIA’s front door, it doesn’t mean he’s loyal to the Americans. I would expect you to understand this better than anyone.”