“You got a pencil and paper?” Grant asked Webb.
“In the drawer above the fridge.”
Adler went into the kitchen, trying to avoid stepping in spilled garbage. “Jesus! It smells like a shit hole in here!” he said under his breath. He rummaged around in the drawer, finding a stub of a pencil with a broken point, and a single piece of paper with one clean side. He handed Grant the paper, then took his K-bar from his leg strap and whittled the pencil to a point.
Grant dropped the pencil and paper on Webb’s lap. “Draw a diagram of the airfield and which direction we’ll be coming from. Show the building and topography.”
“Topography?”
“You know… those little things we call trees, bushes, hills. Any water around?” Webb shook his head, just before Grant snapped a finger against it. “And make sure you show the plane and the Rover.”
A dim light went on in Webb’s brain. “You’re the ones who were at the harbor the night… ” He cut himself off.
“Care to finish that sentence?” Adler asked.
“No!”
While Webb struggled with the drawing, Grant said to Adler, “Get the throat mikes; may as well get ready.”
Adler opened the door, and checked to make sure things were clear. Hiding his weapon behind his back, he made a dash for the van.
Grant leaned over Webb, looking at the half-ass diagram, when Adler came back. He already had his mike in place, but let the earpiece hang outside the collar of his jacket. He handed one to Grant.
“Here,” Webb said, holding up the paper.
While Grant adjusted the wire of the throat mike, Adler took the diagram, trying to make sense of the scribble. He said to Webb, “Tell us what the inside of the building looks like. How are the rooms arranged?”
Webb gave a description. As he finished, Grant said to Adler, “Check out front once more.”
Adler closed the door behind him then quickly scoped out the grounds surrounding the flats. After a couple of minutes, he came inside. “Clear.”
Grant reached down and yanked Webb up by his arm. “Come on. Let’s go see how accurate your drawing is.”
“Like bloody hell!” Webb blurted out, as he attempted to break free of Grant’s hand.
Grant squeezed harder, making Webb wince in pain. “Listen you son of a bitch! You got yourself into this, and then you had the fuckin’ balls to involve your sister and her husband! Your own sister, for Christ’s sake!”
“She’s not my fucking sister!” Webb shouted, sounding more like he was trying to justify his actions.
Grant grabbed Webb around the throat, wanting to squeeze until both eyeballs popped out of his head.
Then he heard Adler’s voice, “Uh, boss.”
Grant let loose. Webb coughed, putting a hand to his red throat. Grant shoved him toward Adler. “Put his ass in his car, driver’s side. You’ll drive the van. I’ll be right out.”
Adler picked up Webb’s keys from the floor, roughly pulled him toward the door, then left the flat.
Grant holstered his .45 and looked around for a phone, spotting one on a shelf. Resting his hand on the receiver, he thought about a decision he had to make. Should he call Colonel Donaldson and tell him the base could “stand down” or would he be “jumping” the proverbial gun? He was more confident there weren’t any others involved, and the IRA and explosives were out of the way. But he still didn’t have a clue of what Labeaux had planned.
Maybe he should call for air support over the old airfield. As much as he could use the support, he didn’t want to ruin the “surprise” he and Adler were hoping to give Labeaux. More importantly, he couldn’t take the risk with Jack and Victoria inside the building.
Of course, there was always the possibility he and Adler could personally “take out” Aknin and Massi. Foreigners up to no damn good on British soil. The political ramifications from that didn’t phase Grant in the least. Somebody else could sort it out.
What he needed to do was call CID. He pulled a small piece of paper from his pocket then dialed Townsend’s direct number.
“Chief Inspector Townsend.”
“Sir, it’s Grant Stevens.”
“Cap… ”
Grant immediately interrupted. “Sir, I’m not using a secure line, but I have some important info.”
“Go ahead.”
“I know you were going to look up something for me, sir. I’ve just made contact with someone who’s agreed to take us to the remote location. Don’t think we’ve got time to wait for you. You’re just going to have to hang tight for now, sir.”
“Can I do anything or call anyone in the meantime?”
“I’m sure my boss would like a brief update, sir. I think you’ve got his number, correct?”
Townsend fumbled for his notebook in his jacket pocket, then flipped it open. “Yes. I have it.”
“Tell him I know where Jack is, and… ”
“And what?”
“Just tell him to remember the desert, sir. He’ll understand.”
“I’ll do it,” Townsend replied, as he wondered what the hell the desert had to do with anything.
“Gotta go. Thanks, sir.” Without waiting for a response, Grant hung up, then hurried to the front door. He had his hand on the door knob, when he froze. “The plane! He’s going to use the goddamn plane!”
Opening the door, he gave a quick look around then quietly closed it behind him.
He spotted Adler by Webb’s car. He made a dash across the parking lot. Time was ticking away. They couldn’t waste a minute more. He and Adler were on their own — again.
Chapter 20
Torrinson stood by the office window. He looked overhead, letting his eyes follow numerous white streaks criss-crossing an early evening sky. Airports were busy around the D.C. area. Jets took off constantly from National, Baltimore, and the air force bases.
With his arms behind his back, he turned and took slow steps toward the middle of the room. His thoughts were on another air base in St. Mawgan, England.
He was worried. When it came to Captain Stevens and Lieutenant Adler being on a mission, one would think he’d be used to it by now. But worry came too easily, especially when he was kept out of the loop.
His intercom buzzed and he went to his desk.
“Yes, Zach.”
“Sir, a Lieutenant Colonel Donaldson from St. Mawgan is on the Red 1.”
Torrinson rolled his swivel chair closer, then sat down. He shoved aside a plate of cold, half-eaten cheeseburger and fries. “Colonel Donaldson?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Can you bring me up to speed on what’s happening over there, Colonel?”
“Well, sir, we’ve established extra security around the compound and the bunker. The base C.O. ordered a couple of choppers to fly over the entire area. So far we haven’t heard or seen anything suspicious around the outside perimeter.”
Torrinson drew in a long breath. “Have you heard anything from Captain Stevens or Lieutenant Adler?”
“Not directly, sir. Gunny Baranski met with them and the EOD men, but that was just to bring everyone on board.”
Torrinson nodded to himself. “Captain Stevens said he and Lieutenant Adler found a boat with IRA and explosives onboard.”
“That’s correct, sir.”
“Have any bodies been found?”
“We haven’t gotten any word on that, sir. But to tell you the truth, with the amount of explosives that Captain Stevens saw, and the size of the explosion he described, it’ll take a long time to find any human parts.”
“I see.” Torrinson then asked with concern, “And yet you still haven’t been told to stand down?”