‘You believe this? They got Hescos,’ said 30K. ‘Weird thing is, even with the trenches they’ve dug, I don’t see where they got enough dirt.’
A ‘Hesco’ was a ‘concertainer’ manufactured by the Hesco company, basically a cellular mesh framework with geotextile lining filled with dirt to create protective walls that were strong and structurally sound. They were used by the US Army to build Forward Operating Bases (FOBs) and other outposts all over the world. How these bastards had gotten their hands on them was another story; then again, there was always a black market for everything.
APCs … Hescos … surface-to-air missiles …
And their deadliest weapon lying ahead, the one that Ross had just caught the barest glimpse of and still couldn’t believe was there.
He signaled the team to move out once more, and they came within twenty meters of the terrible confirmation that the Bedayat jadeda were importing much more than just shoulder-fired weapons. The real reason for the railroad tracks was undeniably clear.
There, sitting at the edge of the clearing but still veiled from above by a natural awning of branches and broad-leafed fronds, was a diesel engine attached to a flatbed railcar.
This would have been an unremarkable sight were it not for the Penguin MK3 missile launch system custom fitted to that car, along with its six-missile launch canister aimed skyward.
Ross didn’t need the analysts back home to help identify the weapon. He’d seen these eight-finned rockets before, their launch assemblies mounted to ships, and he’d watched videos of their test firing.
The Penguin was, indeed, a Norwegian-built antiship missile, pulse-laser or passive IR guidance, with a range of 55km plus (34 miles), covering the entire distance across the Strait of Malacca. No ship was safe from them. And worse, the launchers were mobile. They could show up anywhere on the tracks. It seemed the Bedayat jadeda had taken a page from the Russians, who’d used their extensive rail system to hide their ICBMs from the West during the Cold War.
‘Guardian, this is Delta Dragon. Are you seeing this?’
‘Roger that. We traced the tracks, now that we know what to look for. Believe we’ve spotted a second diesel and railcar launcher a few miles south of your location.’
‘Roger that, stand by.’ Ross switched to the team net. ‘Okay, guys, the SA-24s we’ve been chasing since Tobruk were just the tip of the iceberg. These crazy mothers are planning to terrorize one of the most important shipping lanes in the entire world, and they’ve got these missiles running right along the choke point.’
‘Well, what’re we going to do about that, sir?’ asked 30K.
‘You got a plan, 30K?’
‘Hell, yeah, I do, sir.’
Ross beamed back at him. ‘You’ll get your chance.’
‘Sir, suggest we continue our sweep north then head east to get a better look at that chopper operation,’ said Kozak. ‘Who knows what else they’re bringing in here.’
‘Roger that. Let’s go.’
Pepper rotated to the front and took them along a natural fence line of nipah running around the outpost’s perimeter. They reached the very edge of the forest, where out on the strait they spotted Duman lumbering dangerously close to the shoreline in an effort to make the chopper’s off-loading operation as expeditious as possible. At the moment, the helicopter was carrying back the sixth and final pallet of missile launchers dangling from its cargo line. The pallet came down and was unloaded, even as the pilot turned and headed back, with hints of red and orange already on the horizon.
When the chopper was about halfway back to the ship, Kozak’s voice broke over the radio, and he could barely contain himself:
‘Sir, we got some people on the deck now, and no shit, sir, I think one of them is Hamid.’
Ross zoomed in with his helmet camera, then abandoned it for his high-powered binoculars. The images were still a little grainy, but there was one man among the deck crew who fitted that terrorist scumbag’s description.
It wasn’t until he took the cargo line in his hands, and was strapped into a harness, that Ross began to nod and say, ‘Kozak, I think you’re right. I think that’s our man.’ And once they had lifted him in the air and his face had turned toward Ross, he called Mitchell and said, ‘Sir, I think we know how deep the rabbit hole goes.’
‘Roger that. Fall back and continue your reconnaissance. Diaz, Maziq and I are piecing this all together now with some new intel. Stand by.’
‘Guys, we need to get in close to that clearing where they dropped the missiles,’ Ross told the team. ‘I want a good look at our buddy.’ With that, he gave the signal, and they vanished back into the jungle, retracing their perimeter advance, this time marking the positions of several guards at the clearing’s edge, outside their bunkers.
Ross found another unobstructed view of the drop zone within a cluster of palms, and 30K edged up to him and said, ‘You want to get in close? Like real close?’
‘Let’s do it. Pepper? Kozak? Hold here.’
30K activated his camouflage, and Ross fell in behind him, dematerializing himself. 30K took them right up to the lean-tos, not two meters away from a guard standing there, and Ross, concealed under his camouflage, stared up at the man’s profile. This, he believed, was a FARC solider, recruited all the way from Colombia to work here.
The chopper and accompanying gale force wash showered the area with dirt and rattled the huts as it touched down, and the man they believed was Saif Hamid climbed out, ducking reflexively against the rotor blades. Indeed, it was him. He was tall and lanky, a younger version of bin Laden, with an equally long beard and neck. Radical jihadists weren’t known for their spectacular personal hygiene, fashion sense, or anything else that made them stand out much from their fellow fanatics. Hamid was dressed in the same jungle pattern camouflage fatigues as his men and was quickly addressed by another bearded man, slightly older and grayer, as Ross zoomed in with his Cross-Com and began taking pictures, which were automatically sent to Mitchell.
Hamid and the second unidentified man headed back toward one of the huts, escorted by guards, while the chopper pilot switched off his engine. Ross wasn’t close enough to hear their conversation, but he imagined a lot of self-congratulatory remarks were being made.
Hello, you son of a bitch. We’re coming for you. And we’re bringing the blood, sweat and tears of all those innocent people you killed …
‘Delta Dragon, this is Guardian,’ called Mitchell. ‘We’ve marked your positions. Fall back. I have another update.’
FIFTY-NINE
Once Ross and 30K returned to the others, he ordered the team another hundred meters away from the outpost, then he reestablished the link to Mitchell, who shared both the backstory and complex relationship Hamid had with his associates:
‘The man talking with Hamid is a player we’ve been following for a long time now: Amir Bahar. He’s the former spiritual leader of a Southeast Asian terrorist group known as Jemaah Islamiyah, and he used to buy pirated arms until his al Qaeda funding dried up. He’s formed an alliance with a group called the Jemaah Ansharut Tauhid, or JAT, to front his operation. Our sources close to him say his intent is to control the strait because he who controls the strait has the power to topple existing governments and restore Sharia Law.’