“To be clear about our intentions,” Wythe-Harcourt said, smiling, “we’re not going to ask you about the special operations group you have on the plane or your cargo.”
“About forty automatic weapons, RPG launchers, ammunition for both and sundry other devices of destruction,” Carlson-Smith said, also smiling. “Why’d you leave the Semtek? Certainly not space considerations. We have people in the Zagreb airport, you see.”
“So what are you going to ask about?” Mike said, ignoring the question.
“We believe that you have recovered intelligence from a villa outside of the town of Rozaje,” Drake replied smoothly. “It has come to our attention that a member of the British government has recently been making decisions that are… somewhat out or character. Actually, three members. All of whom recently served in the Balkans and all of whom have known proclivities that might have been… assuaged in that villa.”
“Crap,” Mike muttered. “You’ve got yourself a real problem, then.”
“You don’t have intel?” Carlson asked. “I’m surprised. From the after action report it was a very clean op.”
“Cards on the table and no repercussions, then?” Mike said, smiling also.
“None,” Carlson-Smith replied, directly. “We just want the take.”
“That’s going to be a problem,” Mike said. “There’s three ‘takes.’ They kept paper records and made videos. But the vids were then burned to DVD and sent elsewhere. There are some remaining snippets on a hard drive. We’ve got the hard drive and the paper records, which are in Albanian, but not the DVDs. And I’m taking all of it to the U.S. We’ve got a higher priority problem than a couple of diplomats.”
“I’m not sure that will work,” Wythe-Harcourt said smoothly. “The problem is that there may or may not be other records that are a higher priority problem, as you put it, for Her Majesty’s government as well as allied governments. We would very much prefer that the information remain close, if you will.”
“So what you’re saying is that we’re not leaving with our intel?” Mike asked bluntly.
“We assure you that all the information that is germane will be handed over to the American government,” Wythe-Harcourt said calmly. “It’s simply that we actively prefer that those items of interest to Her Majesty’s government not go astray as it were.”
“Well, then we’ve got ourselves a problem,” Mike said, still smiling. “You see, there is information that is of very great importance to the people and government of the United States in that intel. So you’ll see where I’ve got an issue with turning it over to you. At least as much of an issue, if not a greater one, than you have with turning it over to the U…S government. I see a very ugly stalemate.”
“We need that hard drive,” Carlson-Smith said tightly.
“Calmly, John,” Wythe-Harcourt said, smoothly. “This is why we are negotiating.”
“I’m not sure what the basis of negotiations would be,” Mike said, shrugging. “You’re not going to let me take off with the intel and I’m not going to turn it over. I didn’t get rid of all my Semtek, by the way, and you’re going to have a very hard time capturing the data before it’s destroyed, given that I’ve got twenty top-flight troops on the plane. SAS isn’t going to do you much good except to get the data destroyed and make one hell of a mess. And an international incident between two countries that have a very special relationship.”
“So you’re not going to give it up?” Drake asked musingly.
“Over my dead body,” Mike said. “Literally. That is how you’re going to have to get it. And the bodies of my troopers.”
“Calmly, Mr. Jenkins,” Wythe-Harcourt said, sighing. “Calmly. As I said, negotiations. Your concern is understandable. Is ours?”
“It’s a matter of relative concern,” Mike said. “There is data in there, that we have found, that is uncontrovertible proof of crimes committed by a senior member of the U.S. government. That’s not going anywhere but a very secure facility in the US. And we’re not sure we have all of it. Further, there may be other data as dangerous. This data is extremely sensitive but right now all you have is the Sword of Damocles hanging over a few of your minor diplomats. That’s a world of difference from what the U.S. is looking at. Relative concern.”
“We have information that there may be a higher degree of concern for Her Majesty’s government,” Wythe-Harcourt said, deadpan.
“How high?” Mike asked carefully.
“Very high,” Carlson-Smith practically snarled. “Very damned high.”
“Stalemate again,” Mike said, shrugging. “Anybody? Because I’m not planning on going home empty-handed. And Gatwick Airport is a lousy place for a firefight, I’ll also admit. People would ask questions and there’d be all sorts of media and…” He shrugged and smiled. “For that matter, they’d ask questions if the plane simply sat here for a few days.” He paused for a moment and then shrugged.
“Let me bring someone else into the discussion,” Mike said, musingly. “If I may?”
“Someone… discreet?” Wythe-Harcourt asked.
“My intel specialist,” Mike said. “Former Marine intercept specialist. Did time with the NSA. Good enough?”
“I suppose,” Drake said.
Mike picked up the phone and hit the connection to the rear. “Send Vanner up. Tell him to bring his computer and notes,” he said then turned back to the threesome. “Care for some coffee while we wait? Or, pardon, tea?”
“Yeah, boss?” Vanner said when he came through the door.
“These gentlemen are from the British government,” Mike said, waving him to a seat. “They think there are some Rozaje files that are important to them. Important enough that we’re not taking off until we turn over all our intel. I told them over my dead body. And yours, by the way.”
“Oh,” Vanner said in thought. “Yeah, I guess it would be over mine, too. Hell, even the girls’. Even if they didn’t know why.”
“So let’s discuss the take with these gentlemen and try to come to some sort of arrangement,” Mike said.
“So you’re saying we don’t trust the Brits with this stuff and they don’t trust us?” Vanner asked.
“That would sum it up nicely,” Drake said dryly.
“I think that’s it,” Mike said, frowning at the Brits. “I, frankly, don’t know any of you from Adam. And strange things happen with intel in bureaucracies. I know the people I’m going to be turning this over to. I trust them not to abuse it.”
“And for our part, I must add that we most especially do not trust you,” Wythe-Harcourt admitted. “You’re a free agent, an international security contractor with a very shady reputation holding the blackmail equivalent of a nuclear weapon.”
“There is that,” Mike said with a grin. “And I’ve got copies, moreover. Horrible thing. Vanner, how many video clips did you get?”
“There were a bit over two hundred listed ‘scenes’ in the files,” Vanner said, temporizing. “I haven’t translated all of them, but there about the same number of video clips, most of them incomplete. Natalya was listed on three scenes before being translated. I cross-referenced those scene files and found the one we were looking for in the hard copy. But finding the video was more luck than anything. I had to scan through clips of the scenes one by one but I found her on the seventh clip. That was the one I showed you. But I don’t know what is on the other scenes and there’s no file directory to cross-reference to the hard copy files.”
“There were two hundred women killed in that place?” Wythe-Harcourt asked, his eyes wide.
“Approximately,” Vanner replied. “Women were not killed in all of the scenes but in a few of them more than one was apparently killed. The highest I found was three. I think that guy needs to be tracked down and taken out; he apparently hardly engaged in rape, just torture and murder.”