“Comm,” he said to his communications officer, who was seated in the aft portion of the battle-staff compartment.
“Now that Nightwatch six-seven-six has got its feet wet, keep me informed of any alert traffic that it might attempt to transmit on its own.”
Almost as an afterthought, he personally contacted the headquarters of the 1st Air Force in Langley, Virginia, and ordered a flight of F-15 Eagles skyward, to escort Nightwatch as it approached U.S. airspace.
Chapter 43
“So you came back after all. Sergeant Spit and Polish. And just look who you brought along. Good evening, Mr. Vice President.
Welcome to your worst nightmare!”
Vince, Andrew Chapman, the Stoddards, and Tiny stood in the darkened corner of an immense cavern. From their vantage point, their surroundings indeed looked like they belonged in a bad dream. Stiletto-shaped stalactites hung from the jagged rock ceiling, with thick gray stalagmites forming much of the cave’s floor.
Dick Mariano orchestrated this nightmare from the center of the dimly lit chamber. The ex-SEAL was dressed in black VC pajamas and leather thongs. He held a Colt M4 carbine loosely at his side, and relishing this moment of triumph, he bowed in further greeting, a wide grin visible on his bearded face.
“You made me proud constructing that IED like you did. Sergeant Spit and Polish. And now you’re back here, just liked I planned. By the way, your fifteen minutes are up. Are you ready to die, Kellogg?”
Mariano inserted a fresh magazine into his rifle, and Andrew Chapman dared to intercede.
“What could possibly be so important as to warrant taking another man’s life?”
“I believe you’re more than qualified to answer your own question,” said Mariano.
“After all, that’s what you do every time you send a soldier into battle for another one of your worthless, no-account, good-for-nothing causes.”
With polished expertise, the ex-SEAL rammed a bullet into the rifle’s chamber, clicked off the safety, and waved the barrel of the weapon toward them.
“I want all of you to step backward and put your big butts against the wall. It’s time to complete this cocksucking mission by putting the entire lot of you out of your fucking misery.”
Vince sensed that Mariano wasn’t bluffing, and that he intended to execute them right here in the cavern. As he joined the VP and the others up against the cold rock wall, he spoke out in a desperate attempt to stall for time.
“The very least you owe us is an explanation, Mariano. What did we do to warrant your wrath?”
“Goddamn it. Sergeant Spit and Polish! I’ve already gone over that with you. I’m tired, bored, and horny as all hell, and I want out of this infernal shit hole. So the sooner I take you gee ks down, the better.”
Junior was still seething with anger from the deaths of C.J. and Satan, and he brazenly rushed forward, oblivious to the rifle barrel that was soon pointed his way.
“Junior, no!” warned Amos, too late to stop the deafening burst of gunfire that filled the cavern with ear-shattering sound.
Bullets whined overhead, and Vince yanked the VP to the smooth rock floor and covered Chapman’s body with his own.
A ricocheting round careened off a stalagmite and passed inches overhead, so close that Vince could practically feel it shoot past his ear.
The firing stopped, and Vince looked up. Mariano stood before them laughing. Junior lay sprawled out on the ground, blood pouring from his right leg. His father and sister were already rushing to his side, and Tiny was close by, pointing at the ex SEAL and boldly taunting.
“You think you’re a big, tough guy, don’t ya, mister. Well, I think you’re nothin’ but a lowlife coward, shootin’ unarmed boys and cutting’ the throats of defenseless dogs. I dare ya to put down the rifle and fight me like a man.”
Mariano laughed.
“What do you think this is, a schoolyard?
Some redneck bar? You want some of me, fine.” And before Tiny could even flinch, Mariano took two quick steps forward and slammed the butt of his carbine into Tiny’s forehead. Tiny went down like a bag of wet sand.
Vince found himself anxiously balling up his fists, thinking about taking Mariano while he was distracted. He passed the Stoddards and noted that the Vice President was attempting to tie an improvised tourniquet around Junior’s bullet-ridden leg, and was already covered in the youngster’s blood.
“Skipper!” yelled an excited voice from the other side of the cavern.
Vince halted in mid-step, and watched a green-faced, BDUclad commando join Mariano in the center of the room. Though Vince couldn’t hear what this newcomer proceeded to whisper into Mariano’s ear, he clearly heard the ex-SEAL’s surprised response.
“He what?” shouted Mariano.
“Why, that penal-pushing asshole!
Didn’t he think we could carry out this gravy-train mission?”
He waved the muzzle of his rifle at the prisoners.
“Lock up our friends here, and this time there’ll be no MREs intentionally left behind. I’ve got to get on the horn with the man, and straighten out this cocksucking mess before all of us get butt fucked
Chapter 44
They set up their tentative ORP inside the clearing where they had discovered the bodies of the young man and the German shepherd dog. Jody Glickman identified the unfortunate victim as a local named C.J. He’d been a close friend of the Stoddard family, and Thomas could only hope that Vince and the Vice President hadn’t shared his fate.
Captain Christian’s MPs discovered signs of a struggle, and a trail covered with footprints leading farther down into the hollow.
They also found the green plastic claymore fragment that had most likely cut down C.J. Thus when they began their way down this promising new trail, it was with the utmost caution.
Thomas volunteered to be part of the point unit, a five-person Sapper team that would be conducting the initial route-sweeping operation. His responsibility was security, and he stayed right on the heels of their RTO, Sergeant Reed, and the two mine-detector operators.
Their NVGs lit up the night with a ghostly green tint. Thomas fought back the natural urge to hold his breath as they slowly inched their way forward. It was eerily quiet, with not even the barest of breezes present to rustle the limbs of the overhanging oaks.
While one of the mine-detector operators checked the trail for trip wires with a grappling hook that had fifty feet of rope attached to it, his co-worker crawled forth on his stomach, poking the earth with a ten-inch-long, stiff plastic probe. It was slow, tedious work, and just when Thomas began wondering if it was worth all the bother, the grappling hook snagged the first trip wire.
The taut nylon wire was all but invisible to the naked eye. It was set up to be triggered by either a foot or an ankle, and Sergeant Reed carefully followed it into the brush by the side of the trail.
Thomas was surprised when Reed beckoned him and pointed toward the device to which the trip wire was tied.
“What do you make of it. Special Agent?”
Illuminated in the red-tinted beam of Reed’s flashlight was a fist-sized metallic object, anchored into the ground on a wooden stake. It looked much like a large hand grenade, with the trip wire attached to a firing pin that was set into the top portion of the device. It definitely wasn’t a claymore, and the doughnut shaped rings that encircled the object’s body, were unlike anything that Thomas had ever seen before.