“Yankee search,” the pilot reminded him. “It’s going to be a passive.”
“Yes, sir,” the sonar tech said, grimacing. He wasn’t sure what they were after, but he had been in the briefing, too.
The SEALs, though, clearly knew what they were hunting. They’d hauled SEALs around before; he’d even hung out with a few. And these guys, under the bravado, were not happy campers. Whatever they were supposed to check out it wasn’t a good thing. Since SEALs were generally entirely without fear if it was something they could punch, shoot or fuck, it meant whatever they were looking for fell into none of those categories. And everybody knew the entire damned CVBG was looking for VX nerve gas. Ergo… He was happy to stay in the bird.
He hit the control for active search as soon as the collective was in the water and got an immediate return.
“Yeah, we got something,” he said, then turned and nodded to the two SEALs.
The first went over the side like a rescue diver, one hand on his mask the other on his regulator, hitting the water ten feet below with a splash. Unusually for SEALs, he was using a powerful flashlight. So it didn’t pay to be tactical, apparently. Not part of the tech’s area of interest, so he started lifting the sonar ball.
The second SEAL hit the water and stopped about ten feet down as the first continued deeper. But even that light turned and started to come up after just a minute or less. He popped to the top and held a thumb up, indicating it was time to winch them up.
The SEALs had brought their own commo and the first SEAL got on it as soon as he was back in the helo. Whatever he was saying was muffled by the rotors.
“We’re supposed to circle the area until the frigate gets here,” the pilot said over the intercom about five minutes later. The SEALs, with obvious relief, were stripping off their wet suits. If they had anything to say, they weren’t talking.
“Kildar, Admiral Ryan,” Greznya said as Mike walked in the door of the house.
“Great,” Mike replied wearily. “I’ve got some info that needs to be passed to Jay. We get anything from him?”
“Not recently,” Greznya said. “He sent a message, though, that he thinks he has the contact in Nassau.”
“We’ve got that,” Mike said. “I need to find the guy who’s giving the orders.”
“Two of the boats taken down in two nights,” Gonzales snarled. “And my first shipment gets caught. You are bringing down too much heat on me.”
“Relax,” Ritter said, rubbing his broken nose. “Everything will be fine. We have another shipment on the way, just as good, to replace that one. And more. We are going to need more boats, though.”
“If they haven’t found your stash,” Gonzales replied.
“They… will not talk,” Ritter said, smiling lazily. “They are very tough. And we know where their family is. Their sisters and mothers. If you violate the honor of their sisters and mothers, you violate theirs. They will not talk.”
“This Kildar bastard is the problem,” Juan said. “We need to do something about him.”
“I am,” Kurt Schwenke, AKA “Michael Ritter,” replied. “I will need to use some of your people, however.”
“Fine, use as many as you need,” Gonzales said, standing up and walking out of the office. “I need to go fuck someone.”
“It was there,” Ryan said. “We’re sending a recovery team down to do an inventory.”
“Good,” Mike said. “That was what I was waiting to hear. I’m going to be sending you the names of some people in Yemen. Somebody’s going to need to secure them. Fast. Put ’em in the Witness Protection program. Treat ’em right. Okay?”
“Will do,” the admiral said.
“They will kill my family,” Souhi said, miserably. “All of them.”
Souhi had been led to a concrete room just about filled with plastic sheeting. And a lab facility for some reason. Then he remembered the maddened crew and gulped.
“They will be taken care of,” Oleg promised, standing behind him. “We have word that you told the truth so we will keep ours. And we can get you a new foot. See? I have a new leg,” the team leader said, lifting up his trousers to show the mujahideen. “I had it blown off by Chechens. And now I have a better one. I need their names, though. So we can make sure they are well.”
“Very well,” Souhi said, picking up a pen. He scratched out a series of names of his family in Yemen. “Where will—”
The hammer smashed into his upper spine, severing the cervical vertebra and yanking down on the medulla oblongata, killing him instantly.
“The Kildar said that he would not kill you,” Oleg said as the man voided in the chair. “He didn’t say anything about me.”
Katya was sitting on the back deck of the yacht, a pair of sunglasses on her face and suntan oil spread on liberally, when Ritter walked out and sat down next to her.
“Having a good time, Katya?” Ritter asked.
“Great, Kurt,” the agent replied. “You?”
“Win some, lose some,” Ritter said.
“Father of All…” Julia whispered. “It’s Kurt Schwenke.”
“And Katya knows,” Lilia replied. “I wonder for how long?”
“How well did you wire the boat?”
“Pretty thoroughly, Kurt,” Katya admitted. “Full sound and video. In fact, this is going out in streaming video. So is this where we go for round two?” She had met the former East German Stasi member on a previous mission. Both had tried, with minimal success, to kill the other.
“Nein,” Kurt replied. “It’s a nice day. Why ruin it? Besides, with what the Kildar probably has on standby I wouldn’t live to appreciate the moment.”
“There’s that,” Katya said. “In fact…”
“In fact, I think I’ll take a little trip out of town,” Schwenke said. “Since I suspect this boat is going to become less welcoming soon.”
“Might be a good idea,” Katya replied. “Just between friends, you wouldn’t care to tell me where?”
“Just between friends, you wouldn’t care to tell me where the Kildar is?”
“Probably drinking a beer.”
Mike sipped at a bottle of Mother Lenka’s best as he watched the TV.
The Prime Minister of the Bahamas, sweating profusely and grinning just as much, was standing on the deck of a U.S. Navy salvage vessel currently holding station just north of Grand Isle.
“I am extending the personal thanks of the President of the United States and all Americans to the nation of the Bahamas for their support in finding this cache…” an admiral was saying. “Without their help and support this mission would have been impossible.”
“And I thank the United States government,” the president said, still grinning, “for their ongoing support in the war on drugs and terror. Without their aid it would be impossible for our small country to police all the islands…”
The two black SUVs slammed to a halt at the edge of the Straw Market and the DEA teams unassed, fast.
Before the Pakistani shopkeeper could begin to react another team came in the back of his kiosk and slammed him to the floor. Fast-ties went on his hands and feet as rigger-tape secured his mouth. A black hood covered his head and he was gone in thirty seconds. All his merchandise was gone in about sixty.
Although some of the tourists stopped and stared, the merchants continued as if nothing had happened. Just another day in paradise.