He shook his head. That didn't sound like Rogelio Abayon.
Royce looked forward to closing out this mission, but beyond that he was uncertain. He'd been moved up a notch in the Organization, but toward what end? The same end that David had just met?
On the other hand, he knew there was no way out. He couldn't just tender a resignation because that was the same as "retirement," and he'd seen how that went. He was bound to the Organization by invisible chains that he had to be careful not to even tug on or else bring unwanted attention.
It would be helpful to know who exactly the "Organization" was, but that was a chain he knew he would have to be very careful about tugging. Or get someone else to tug.
CHAPTER 18
Abayon kissed Fatima's hand. Then he reached up and wiped away the tears on each of her cheeks.
"You will do well."
"I will miss you," she said.
The last of the trucks carrying the treasure rumbled down the narrow jungle trail toward the dock where an old freighter waited for them. They had rehearsed abandoning the Hono Mountain facility many times, and the execution had gone off flawlessly. Abayon was in his chair, between the two large doors that had sealed this cave off so many years ago. A jeep waited for Fatima, the last to leave. When she was gone, he would be alone.
"It is all for the people," Abayon said.
Fatima nodded, at a loss for words.
"Go now," Abayon said, wheeling his chair back. She hesitated, then turned and headed to the jeep. Abayon hit the control that shut the doors. Protesting on rusty hinges, they slowly swung shut with a resounding clang.
Abayon slowly turned his chair and began heading farther into the complex. He could feel the presence of ghosts all around. Japanese and Filipino. And others. This mountain had been the hub of much death and destruction. He knew the recent raid had been the signal he'd been both dreading and looking forward to.
Abayon wound his way through the complex until he reached the stone balcony from which he had watched the raid. He rolled out onto it and looked to the west, where the sun was setting. This night would bring much change. He looked down at the red button on the handle of the wheelchair and sighed.
The Jahre Viking was cruising smoothly less than forty miles southwest of Oahu. It was en route to Long Beach where it would off-load its cargo of oil. The captain of the large tanker was surprised when a United States Navy destroyer appeared off his starboard bow, bearing down at almost maximum speed.
The radio crackled with an order from the captain of the destroyer to prepare to be boarded. Since they were in international waters, the captain of the Jahre Viking did not have to comply with the request. But the tone of the American officer's command left little doubt about the extreme seriousness of the demand.
Having nothing to hide, the Viking's captain acceded, and within minutes a helicopter from the destroyer landed on the huge tanker's helipad. A squad of armed Marines jumped off. The chopper immediately lifted and went back to the destroyer, staying long enough to fill up with troops before returning. And then again and again, until the captain estimated he had half the destroyer's crew on his ship, searching.
One of those who came over was the Navy captain, and he was escorted to the bridge. The American apologized but said the search was over an issue of grave concern to all human beings regarding a recent event at an island in the middle of the Pacific. He also admitted that American satellites had tracked the Jahre Viking ever since leaving Indonesia and knew it had stayed on course, but orders were orders and they were taking no chances.
The search took an hour, and then the Americans left, the destroyer leaving at flank speed to find another ship to search.
Moreno's sonar man had heard the American destroyer approach and then listened to it run alongside for over an hour. Then he heard it move away. Moreno watched both the clock and his chart, waiting until the American would be out of range.
Finally, he could wait no longer.
"One quarter ahead."
For the first time since they'd mated with the tanker, the submarine's engines began to turn the ship's screws. Satisfied he had power, Moreno issued the next order.
"Cut power to the magnets."
The instant the power was cut, Moreno ordered the sub to dive, to get clear of the Jahre Viking's screws. The submarine descended as the tanker passed by overhead. When it hit the wake caused by the massive screws, the submarine vibrated violently for half a minute, then slowly settled.
"Course five-five degrees," Moreno ordered.
"Half ahead. Bring us up to just below the surface."
The nose of the old submarine turned to the northwest, directly toward Oahu and Honolulu.
Vaughn checked out the small redoubt Tai had built for herself next to the open spot on the top of Hono Mountain. She had two logs stacked, facing the clear area, with enough space between them for her to get a clear field of fire. She'd covered the logs with vegetation so that unless someone walked right on top of her location, she wouldn't be spotted.
He checked his watch.
"They should be five minutes out."
Tai nodded in the dark.
"Time to get ready."
She checked her FM radio, hitting the transmit button.
"You set?"
Vaughn heard her in his left ear. He nodded and transmitted himself.
"Roger. You got me."
"Roger."
Vaughn tapped the radio.
"This isn't going to do me much good once I'm inside the mountain."
"It will give us a couple of seconds to react once you're back up top."
She paused before she climbed behind the logs and stuck her hand out.
"Good luck."
Vaughn shook her hand.
"You too."
He wasn't sure what else to say because he still wasn't sure if he trusted her. He walked into the center of the open area and pulled out his infrared strobe. He wasn't sure he trusted any of those who would be parachuting in either. It was a hell of a situation. He had always been able to count on his teammates in combat situations, and now he was getting ready to conduct a mission where he wasn't sure of anything.
He checked his watch once more. Two minutes.
He turned the strobe on.
The Combat Talon was coming just above the wave tops. The back ramp was already down, and the four members of the team were clustered just near the edge in a line, the two outermost with a solid grip on the hydraulic arm holding the ramp in place.
That grip tightened as the nose of the Talon abruptly went up and the pilots headed straight for the top of
Hono Mountain. The four jumpers also had night vision goggles on and static line parachutes strapped to their backs. They didn't have reserve parachutes because at the altitude they were jumping, if their main didn't open, there would be no time to deploy a reserve.
"One minute!" the crew chief yelled to the team, holding up a single finger.
Vaughn had to assume the IR strobe was working, because without his own night vision goggles, he couldn't see anything. He cocked his head as he heard the familiar sound of turboprop engines. He almost ducked as the Talon roared by low overhead, barely one hundred feet above the top of the mountain. He stared up and saw four parachutes pop open, halfway between him and where the plane had gone by. The jumpers hit the ground scant seconds later, three of them in the clearing, the fourth in the trees along the edge, not far from where Tai was hidden.