‘He who controls the strait has the power to affect the world’s oil supply,’ said Ross.
‘Oh, I’m sure he understands that very well. Now Maziq tells me that shipments of arms and armaments between Norway and the South African Air Force have been pirated during transits around the Horn of Africa, which explains where these guys picked up some of their toys like those Penguins you found.’
‘Okay, but what’s in it for Bahar? Just more fighters? And how do the Colombians play into all this?’
‘Well, if you think about it, there aren’t many places to hide heavy armament and large weapons caches in that region. Up until Bahar made contact with Hamid and the Bedayat jadeda, he was forced to hide his contraband in the holds of ships sympathetic to JAT — and we know this because we’ve intercepted a few of those ships. Hamid’s base of operations on Rupat has solved his and Bahar’s problems. Bahar has a secure place for his weapons cache safely hidden from satellites and our Navy in Singapore, and Hamid has a strategically operational stronghold overlooking a narrow section of the strait. Plus he’s got a propaganda tool to recruit new warriors. The FARC are employees of Hamid, trading partners, and a source of funding. However, if this plays out the way they want, South American oil would become much more valuable if the Middle East supply were disrupted, particularly Venezuelan oil, and it’s a known fact that the FARC have had a relationship with that government.’
‘So what’s their next move? Take out an oil tanker?’
‘We assume they’ll begin by striking boats from the Malacca Strait Patrol, a security force staffed by personnel from Malaysia, Singapore, Indonesia, and Thailand. With the MSP weakened, they can go to town on the oil tankers.’
During his tenure as a SEAL, Ross had attended many presentations on how America had become the world’s maritime police force, and he understood well how he and his team now fitted into the larger picture.
Mitchell continued: ‘Increased risk in the strait will increase the price of oil, raise maritime insurance rates, and force some ships to find alternate — and expensive — routes to the Pacific. Under treaties with both Saudi Arabia and OPEC, securitizing oil is in our national interest.’
‘I understand, sir.’
US Navy units operating in the Indian Ocean would, according to America’s foreign policy, maintain the sea lines of communication (SLOC) for trade, logistics, and naval forces. Now, this policy also authorized the Group for Specialized Tactics to conduct as necessary reconnaissance and direct action operations that would secure that oil and keep those sea lines open.
In sum and in layman’s terms, the Ghosts would have permission to blow the shit out of the entire outpost –
And as Mitchell uttered the words ‘direct action mission,’ Ross sprang to his feet.
Pepper snorted over the audacity of these sons of bitches. If they couldn’t kill us on American soil like they had back on 9/11, they’d figured out the next best way to hurt us — by hitting us in the wallet. They wanted to convert all these small countries to their way of thinking and decide which oil tankers would be allowed through the choke point and which ones they’d destroy. They’d create some serious chaos before they all got martyred and sent to hell.
Well, they had another think coming.
Pepper was on one knee just behind a pair of huts constructed on stilts, his camouflage activated, a sensor grenade in his right hand. The major wanted an exact troop count, and the Ghosts would get that intel for him.
With just the slightest toss, Pepper deployed the sensor beneath the hut, then he waited as his Cross-Com rippled to life, the sensor picking up the hostile contacts and marking their exact number and locations inside those huts and those within a .25 kilometer hemisphere.
At the same time, Ross, Kozak and 30K were doing likewise, all their data instantly compiled to give Mitchell a three-dimensional map of the battle space as well as the size and composition of their enemy.
The images in Pepper’s HUD showed the men inside the huts outlined in red and bowing in prayer. As Muslims, they prayed five times a day, a heck of a lot more than Pepper did, and if they had known how close the Ghosts were, they’d have a lot more to pray about.
Exploiting the moment, Pepper hauled ass across the clearing and reached the tangled web of palms. His ribs felt a lot better now, his breathing hardly as labored as it had been. He was back in the fight.
Near the denser jungle along the south side of the camp, Ross discovered a Quonset hut draped in fronds. Stacked outside the rear door were empty boxes whose Spanish language labels indicated they were medical supplies. Ross shifted through the undergrowth, freezing beneath his camouflage as the hut’s front door opened and out stepped a familiar man — a man he’d seen outside the warehouses in Tobruk:
Alfonso Valencia, the FARC leader with the medical background.
What’s more, another man accompanied him.
And when Ross got a better glimpse of his face, he nearly fell back off his haunches.
It was Delgado, the paramilitary operations officer for the CIA, better known as the little runt bastard who had deceived the team back in Colombia. The prick was either under cover or simply a traitor working for the FARC and their terrorist connections. It almost didn’t matter anymore. Despite being a law-abiding citizen and model soldier, Ross imagined himself strangling the man to death — a moment of weakness that still felt damned good.
Shuddering off that thought, he captured Valencia and Delgado on video and immediately sent that file back to Mitchell.
Then he shifted farther into the jungle, kneeling in the long shadows of some fronds dripping with dew. He trembled with excitement as he called the major. ‘Sir, I just sent you a file, but I’ll cut to the chase. Valencia’s here, along with Delgado.’
‘Say again?’
‘That FARC doctor Valencia is here. Looks like he’s setting up a field hospital for them. And our CIA buddy Delgado is with him.’
No response from Mitchell.
‘Sir, are you there?’
‘I’m here, Captain. I’ll notify the NCS and get back to you.’
‘Thank you, sir.’
‘Ghost Lead, Kozak here. Best I can tell from the sensor reports is we got about seventy-five infantry armed with the basics: AKs, side arms, grenades, RPGs, and of course, the SA-24s. Got at least one fifty cal at every bunker. Looks like a mixed group of Arabs and FARC troops. Got some officer types in charge of the bunkers, another guy heading up security for the APCs, and squads for the vehicles. Biggest contingent is guarding the two trains — ten guys on each engine, with some nerdy types who look like launch operators, over.’
‘Excellent work,’ Ross said. ‘Ghosts, fall back to the rally point.’
Ross was about to take off running when two Bedayat jadeda fighters came elbowing their way into the brush.
‘Just out here,’ said one of them in Arabic. ‘I heard something out here.’
Swearing inwardly, Ross held his position as the men came toward him, rustling branches and leaves until they stopped, waited, rifles held at the ready.
One of them looked directly at Ross, then he took a deep breath and said to his comrade, ‘Maybe it was over there.’ He pointed to the west. They turned and started away.
Sweat was dripping from Ross’s chin by the time he stood and got out of there, passing between two bunkers positioned about ten meters apart, where a team of four men was setting up some claymores with trip wires. Great. More obstacles.