“Is that all you wanted to tell me?” Remington picked up his coffee and sipped. Then he asked the hostess for a menu.
“The menu won’t be necessary,” Felix said. “I’ve already taken the liberty of ordering for both of us.”
Remington didn’t care for that either. It was too invasive, too controlling.
“Your food will be out momentarily,” the hostess said when she left.
“No.” Felix swirled his wine, peered at the color against the candlelight, then drank with obvious gusto. “I came here to tell you that Nicolae Carpathia is going to persuade the secretarygeneral and the White House to combine forces over here. As well as throughout the rest of the world.”
“Combine forces how?”
“When Nicolae is through, there will be only one military throughout the world. And he will control it. Anyone who doesn’t side with him is going to be viewed as an enemy.”
“He’s wasting his time. The DOD chiefs will never agree to anything like that.”
“Nicolae can be quite… persuasive.”
“I’ll believe it when I see it.”
Felix smiled again. “You’ll be seeing it, and believing it, soon enough.” He sipped his wine. “In the meantime, you need to find an effective way to deal with your sergeant.”
“I’ll handle it.”
“Handle it. Soon. Before this thing gets any further out of hand.
Nicolae would like to see you keep your command intact. He doesn’t want the forces over here to become splintered.”
“That’s not going to happen.”
“It was happening under Corporal Baker.”
The comment stung Remington’s ego. How does he know so much? The captain had no clue.
“You were fortunate when Baker was killed.” Felix’s eyes gleamed. “Very fortunate. Even though Baker wasn’t saying anything to subvert your command, it was happening. Two camps were starting up between the men.”
Remington had known that was trouble when he’d seen it taking place.
“Sometimes, though,” Felix said, “you can arrange for fortune to come calling.” He turned his empty hands palms up.
“You’re suggesting I kill Goose.”
“If you’re going to achieve the goals I have in mind for you, that Nicolae has in mind for you, then you’re going to have to push yourself. Merely leaving him behind enemy lines and hoping they kill him isn’t going to do it.”
13
Downtown Sanliurfa
Sanliurfa Province, Turkey
Local Time 0627 Hours
When the hostess returned, she brought with her two servers carrying a veritable feast. Despite his reluctance, Remington dug in. But only a few moments later, his walkie-talkie buzzed.
Felix had turned his attention back to the computer and was typing in commands.
Remington dug his ear-throat headset from a pocket and strapped it on. He jammed the cord into the device and listened to the beep that signaled activation. “Remington,” the captain barked.
“Sir, I thought maybe you’d want to know that Harran is under attack by the Syrian military.”
Anger and dread warred for supremacy inside Remington. He’d known the attack was coming, but he hadn’t wanted to deal with it so early. The troops weren’t ready, and he didn’t have a fallback position set up.
“How do you know that?”
“We’re fielding reports from there. Lieutenant Swindoll says it’s a massive incursion.”
“We missed a troop movement that large? Why didn’t the satellite surveillance warn us about the troop movement?”
“The system has been on the blink all night, sir. We kept you updated.”
The reports were on Remington’s desk. The satellite system had been performing well. Nicolae Carpathia had granted Remington access to the satellites shortly after the disappearances, during the first wave of Syrian attacks.
“Do we have satellite surveillance over that area now?”
“No, sir. We believe our ground relays in the area are being jammed.”
Remington’s mind flew. It was possible that the Syrians had gotten troops into the city to jam the ground stations. It was just as possible the local and temporary systems were being tasked beyond their capabilities.
Felix focused on the computer. His long-fingered hands flew across the keyboard. “Harran?”
For an instant, Remington held back an answer. He didn’t like spreading military intelligence around, nor did he care for anyone else usurping control. But in the end, he needed to see whatever intel was available. “Yes.” The admission was grudging at best.
“I can get you access.” Felix’s confident tone further irritated the captain.
“How?”
Felix smiled. “Danielle Vinchenzo is part of OneWorld NewsNet. We’re everywhere.”
Remington was only slightly surprised that Felix acknowledged the ties to the international news agency. It was no secret that Nicolae Carpathia owned OneWorld Communications. The Romanian president owned or managed several international companies and corporations. But for a man like Felix, who talked of murder as a good thing, to be affiliated with the broadcasting corporation in any way seemed wrong.
The LCD screen cleared immediately. The focus was tight on Danielle Vinchenzo. The reporter was no longer calm, cool, and collected. Hunkered down behind a stone building, she tried valiantly to report the news.
“-repeat, Mark. The 75th Rangers here in Harran have just come under attack by what is believed to be Syrian forces.” Danielle ducked as a nearby explosion threw debris over her.
The camera shot wavered and spun drunkenly. The camera operator cursed and the angle changed as he obviously dropped into what he believed was a better defensive posture.
“Sir?” The prompt came from the outpost officer. “Captain Remington?”
“I’m here.” Remington tried to ease his grip on the walkie-talkie. “Get Harrison and Macauley into my ready room. Tell them I’ll be there in ten.”
“Yes, sir.”
“And keep me updated.”
“Yes, sir.”
Remington put the radio on standby.
“Your men have lost satellite feeds?” Felix took a sat-phone from inside his jacket. The device was so thin that it hadn’t broken the line of the jacket in any way.
“My support staff believes the local relays are being jammed.”
Felix smiled. “Well then, we’ll have to cut out the local relays, won’t we?” He spoke into the phone fluently in a language that wasn’t English. It sounded guttural and dark, and Remington could only assume it was Romanian. A moment later, Felix folded the phone and put it away. “You’ll have a work-around in place within minutes. It should provide you with anything you need.”
Remington wasn’t happy. Minutes cost soldiers their lives.
Looking unhappy himself, Felix shrugged. “It’s the best I can do, Captain.”
Remington stood and took his hat from the table. “I’ve got to go.”
Felix nodded. “I understand. I’m sorry you didn’t get to finish your breakfast.” He took a roll and buttered it, showing no concern for the violent tableau taking place on his computer.
The camera panned over streets where Rangers took cover. A tank round slammed into a Hummer and threw it end over end till it crashed through a storefront window.
“Are you getting this?” Danielle asked.
“Yeah, yeah,” the cameraman muttered angrily. “I’m filming.”
“Stay with it.”
“I am. I am. ”
The camera swung around and focused on the Ulu Cami mosque. The Ranger fire team assigned there was trying to call in coordinates for army artillery units. In the next moment, a Syrian jet streaked out of the sky and opened fire. Cannon rounds chopped into the ancient structure, knocking stone and mortar away. A Ranger tumbled over the edge of the mosque’s tower, but before he could strike the ground, the jet fired two rockets that exploded against the building. The mosque fell to pieces, tumbling into a pile of rubble.