“After this mission is over I’m going to institute unit-wide training in airborne and HALO techniques,” Mike said with a nod. “We’ll work on SCUBA later.”
“What is SCUBA?”
Chapter Seventeen
Kacey yanked back the door of the Blackhawk and stepped out fast, carrying her flight bag in one hand and a carry-on in the other. Tammie, similarly encumbered, followed fast behind but paused to wave to the crew-chief and slide the door shut.
Their greeting party was a middle height man dressed in casual clothes, more or less ignoring the rotor wash, and a bigger guy that had a look that Kacey somehow tagged as ” local” wearing a digi-cam pattern she’d never seen before. The guy in digicam was wearing a sidearm of some sort in fast-draw holster. It might have been an H K USP, but Kacey wasn’t enough of an expert in side-arms to be sure. The odd thing about the local took a second to sink in: he was so damned good looking it was scary. He looked like he could have stepped off a Hollywood set but she was sure he was a local.
The landing area was a farm in a valley just about surrounded by really high mountains, pretty prosperous with some new tractors working the fields and an SUV or two in sight. But the houses looked pretty much like the ones she’d seen in the Kurdish area in Iraq: dressed stone and slate roofs. They looked like they might have electricity.
“Captain Bathlick?” the casually dressed man asked. “I’m Mike Jenkins. Thanks for coming out here just to talk.”
Up close it was clear that, while casual, the clothes were not cheap. The black comfortable shoes had that look that said “Italian leather”, the pants were exquisite and the golf shirt looked as if it was silk. He’d fit right in at a Palm Beach golf-course. But just as she thought that she heard a crackle of gunfire over the sound of the spooling up rotors. It was the crackle that said “ranges” though, to her ear, not “firefight.”
“That would be me,” Kacey replied, setting down her case to shake his hand. The local immediately grabbed it and the nearly matching one from Tammie and trotted over to the waiting Expedition. Jenkins quickly shook Tammie’s hand as well and then gestured at the Expedition.
“Let’s get out of the rotor wash,” Mr. Jenkins yelled, heading for the SUV. He got in the driver seat after waving them to the back. Once they were in he turned around and grinned. “Welcome to Never Never Land. I’d give you the cook’s tour, but I’m pressed for time. We’ll talk then you can tell me to stuff it or look around and make up your mind.”
“Can we get a vague idea what we’re here for?” Tammie asked.
“I’ve been asked, as a favor, to do something for the US government. And the government of Russia. And the government of Georgia.” Mr. Jenkins put the SUV in gear and headed up towards the road. It was only then that Kacey noticed what could only be described as a Turkish castle straight out of Arabian Nights up on the ridgeline. “To do that favor, I need at least two helicopter pilots. The rest can, has to, wait.”
“The US, Russia and Georgia?” Kacey asked, leaning back in her seat and looking around. Most of the people in the valley were in “local” clothing but here and there there were more people in digicam. A couple were carrying sub-guns, M4s, on friction rigs. Most of them Kacey still tagged as “locals” but a couple had a look that she knew made them Western military. Not sure how to say the difference but it was there. But they clearly weren’t an SF team, they looked more like “security specialists.” What in the fuck was going on? “I guess we should at least stick around long enough to find out why.”
“Oh, yeah,” Mr. Jenkins said, opening up the center compartment and pulling out two envelopes. “Your ‘I’m willing to travel’ money.” He held the two envelopes over his shoulder as he steered onto a winding road that looked damned near vertical.
Kacey quickly snatched the envelopes so he’d have his hands free to drive and handed one to Tammie. She didn’t want to count it, it seemed rude, but it sure felt like what five thousand dollars should feel like. It was heavy. Bills could be paid and that was good. Whatever came from the “interview.” It sounded like Jenkins would be willing to hire anyone who could fly. That meant they’d have to be interviewing him.
The castle turned out to be their destination. There was a curtain wall with some really huge doors on the gate and an interior keep, she’d guess that was what it was, that had been converted into a house. Again, it looked really Turkish, Ottoman was probably the right term. It had a couple of little towers like minarets on it at least.
“In case you’re wondering, this is my house,” Mr. Jenkins said. “And farm. The people who work the farm are called the Keldara. The full explanation of the Keldara is a long discussion. We’ll have to shelve that one, too, for the time being. If you’ll follow me, your bags will be taken to your rooms.”
“We’d like to keep our flight bags with us,” Kacey said, uneasily.
“If it makes you comfortable,” Mr. Jenkins said, smiling. “But they’re only going to your room. Whether you take the job or not you’ll probably prefer to stay overnight.”
“Okay,” Tammie said, handing over her flight-bag with a shrug. She still had a purse. “Lead on.”
Kacey gave up her flight-bag somewhat more reluctantly but then followed the two into the house.
The first thing she noticed wasn’t the décor, it was the women. There were three rather good looking teenage females in school uniforms in the front room of the castle. All three popped to their feet as Mr. Jenkins walked in and giggled then one gabbled at him in what was probably the local language.
Jenkins replied shortly, but in a friendly tone, then turned to Tammie and Kacey.
“These young ladies are Tinata, Lida and Klavdiya. They would like to make your acquaintance.”
“Of course,” Tammie said, grinning and walking over to shake hands. “Hello.”
“Hello, I am pleased to meet you,” one of the girls said, very slowly in English.
“Thank you,” Tammie said, nearly as slowly. “I am please to meet you, too. What is your name?”
“I am Klavdiya,” the girl said carefully.
“Hello, Klavdiya,” Tammie said, smiling. “I am Tammie.”
Mr. Jenkins said something briefly in the other language and the girls then cut the greeting shorter. When the ritual was all over, he waved the two pilots towards the back of the castle.
“To be brutally honest, the girls are members of my harem,” Jenkins said without looking over his shoulder to gauge their reaction. “And, no, none of them are over eighteen. The story of how I ended up with a harem will… ”
“Have to wait,” Kacey said, snorting. “I can tell there are a lot of stories here. But if you’re trying to shock me, or Tammie, we’re pretty much unshockable.”
“Good,” Jenkins said, reaching a heavy wooden door and gesturing them into the room. It was set up as an office but there were no windows and only the one door. The first word that came to Kacey’s mind was “cozy.” There was a nice fireplace, currrently unlit, on one wall. The second word that came to mind, though, was “secure.” Bugging it would be hell except maybe through the fireplace. There was a couch and three overstuffed chairs arranged on one side in a “seating area” a desk and advanced desk chair. No filing cabinets, though. Mr. Jenkins grabbed one of the overstuffed chairs and swung it around so he could face the couch and waved them to it. “Sit, please. I know you’ve been doing a lot of sitting, but I’ve got to go back to teaching HALO as fast as I can and I’d like to get this over with.”
“And that’s another one that begs the question ‘what is going on?’ ” Tammie said.