Target one, p.13
Target One, page 13
“Then that’s where they’ll hit! You’ll have to pass right by them and there’s no Egyptian naval base there.”
“We can’t know they even have the capability you think they do, agent.” Captain Cranston sounded like he was struggling to maintain his patience.
“Thank you, sir, and good luck.”
Jacob hung up. He didn’t want to waste any more precious time trying to convince someone who didn’t even have the authority to turn his own ship around.
Jacob sprinted to the awaiting helicopter, a small, fast two-seater. An Egyptian ground crew was just leaving. Jana had already stowed the bags.
“They told me everything’s prepared and it’s fully fueled,” she said. “And we’re cleared for takeoff.”
“Thanks.” Jacob got behind the controls and switched on the motor. Above them, the rotors began to turn. Soon they lifted off and soared high above the port, a mass of concrete buildings stretching out before them, the blue of the Mediterranean to the north, and a 200-meter-wide channel of water leading from it out of sight to the south.
Jacob caught a glimpse of a line of sleek gray vessels approaching Port Said. His heart sunk. The American flotilla.
He swung the helicopter around and skimmed low over the canal, heading south.
“The captain told me they’ve cleared the traffic,” he told Jana. “Some ships are at Great Bitter Lake about 50 miles south of here. I’m going to check those out.”
Jana rummaged through the bag Orhan had given them and came out with an M16. Setting that aside, she pulled out a hunting rifle with a high-powered scope. She checked the magazine and flicked off the safety.
“Know your way around one of those?” Jacob asked, glancing at her. The way she handled it, she certainly seemed to.
“You wouldn’t believe the arsenal we had in our basement.”
“Actually I would.”
“Well, you knew him better than I did,” Jana growled.
Jacob took a deep breath. The canal was clear as far as he could see. No ship traffic at all. He kept the helicopter at top speed.
“Look, Jana. Since there’s a good chance you, me, and everyone in a five-mile radius might die in the next hour, I think it might be good for you to forgive him.”
“Forgive him! Why should I forgive a single parent who abandons his child?”
“He told me it was you who cut him off.”
“I gave him an ultimatum. I was tired off all the broken promises, all the missed graduations and birthdays. I told him if he wasn’t home for my twenty-first birthday, he might as well not come home at all.”
“I know. He told me. It was the biggest regret of his life, but he had a duty to perform.”
Jana sneered. “Duty! You sound just like him. Any time he wanted to duck some personal responsibility, he always came up with a duty to perform.”
“He had something important to do that day.”
“And what the hell was more important than his daughter?”
Saving me.
“That’s classified,” he mumbled.
“You guys are all the same. Hiding behind your machismo and some oh-so-important special ops. Sometimes I think the tough guys are the biggest cowards of all.”
Jacob flushed, thinking of all the relationships he’d dodged, the friendships he’d let go stale. Fighting bad guys came easier than dealing with good people.
But what she said wasn’t fair. Not one person in a thousand could do what he did, and it kept the other 999 safe.
They flew on in silence, on and on down the barren stretch of water, farmer’s fields and the occasional town on each side. Jacob had flown along the canal many times before, and it had always been full of freighters, cruise liners, oil tankers, and container ships. It was eerie to see it empty.
He flew low, not wanting to miss any detail. A small powerboat could carry a nuke just as easily as one of the bigger ships. Hell, now that the ships had all been stopped they might have gotten spooked and packed the nuke in that mosque over there, or in that collection of a dozen farmers’ huts just down the road from it. Or somewhere in that town of a few thousand people coming up ahead.
It could be anywhere, simply anywhere, and that Geiger counter would be useless unless they were standing within a few yards of it.
Jacob felt a rising sense of panic. He tamped it down and focused on the job.
If only he knew how to perform it.
His satellite phone rang. With one hand on the controls, he picked it up.
“Agent Snow.”
Wallace’s voice came over the line. “Any luck?”
“No, sir.”
“I was calling to inform you that the flotilla, led by the USS Brandywine, has entered the canal.”
Jacob took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “Thank you, sir.”
Wallace didn’t need to say any more. The canal was too narrow for large ships to turn around, and a group of ships that big would take more than a mile just to stop. There was no turning back now.
If that bomb was anywhere up ahead, he and Jana needed to find it, otherwise thousands would die today, and millions would die this year.
CHAPTER TWENTY THREE
Jacob circled around the Great Bitter Lake, an expansive body of salt water almost directly at the midpoint of the Suez Canal. To both sides, large ships sat moored in long lines, creating a two half-circles of metal gleaming in the sunlight close to the shore.
He stared at each one in turn, and couldn’t see anything unusual on any of them.
But of course there wouldn’t be. A band of terrorists smart and dedicated enough to make their own nuke could cover up their occupation of a ship easily enough. There had been no mayday calls. When they took over the ship, they had done it quickly enough that no one had sounded the alarm.
Took over? Maybe they even owned the thing. It could be an entire ship filled with terrorists.
Wonderful.
At least none of the ships were moving. That gave Jacob some time. If the terrorists were laying low, waiting for the fleet to come to them, he might just have enough time to find out which one the bomb was on.
The only problem with that was that there was no way of telling. The Geiger counter sat between the seats, switched on but silent. No way would it pick up anything at this distance.
Jana broke into his thoughts. “Have you noticed there’s no traffic on the roads?”
Jacob looked around. He had been so focused on the canal he hadn’t noticed. Stupid mistake. This mission had gotten him rattled.
“You’re right. The Egyptians must have halted it.”
“I saw a roadblock a couple of miles back on the right bank. Didn’t think anything of it until now. There are no vehicles at all.”
Jacob scanned the area, his gaze running up and down the canal-side highways running along either bank. His heart skipped as he saw in the distance on the left bank a lone truck with a canvas canopy on the back, headed north.
Headed toward the fleet.
He swept the helicopter down and over, chasing the truck. His mind raced. If the terrorists saw the chopper, they might detonate the bomb early.
That was fine, because their current position was far enough south that it wouldn’t take out the fleet.
It would only destroy the canal, disrupting global trade and starting a Sunni-Shiite war that would kill millions.
Jacob gritted his teeth. There was no getting around it. They had to stop the bombers before they set it off.
But how to do that?
“Jana, have you ever fired at anyone?”
“What?” She sounded nervous.
“You know your way around a gun, but have you ever shot to kill?”
“No.” Now she sounded really nervous.
“You’re going to have to in about thirty seconds when we catch up to these guys. They’re going fast. Aim for the tires. Maybe you can make them careen off the road and crash. Then shoot every one of them you can. I’ll land as soon as possible and fire on them too. Can you do that?”
“Y-yes.”
“Jana. If you don’t kill these guys right now, millions will die. Including us.”
“I know,” she said, her voice coming out so quiet that if it weren’t for the radio earphones he would have never heard her.
“Can you do it?”
They were almost in range. No reaction from the truck. Either the terrorists hadn’t seen them or thought they wouldn’t get fired on. Jacob wasn’t flying a police or military chopper, after all, just a civilian model.
Jacob veered a bit over the water so Jana could get a clear shot at the wheels.
He could only see the driver, an old man in a keffiyeh and a white beard who kept glancing at the helicopter.
No way this guy is a civilian. There are roadblocks everywhere. The Egyptians sealed every street. He and his buddies hidden in back must have shot their way through the last roadblock. They’ll shoot through the next one too, and on and on until they get to the fleet.
And if the soldiers stop them, they’ll simply detonate the bomb early.
“Can you do it?” Jacob repeated.
Jana aimed the rifle. The driver looked again, mouth opening, shouting something they couldn’t hear.
Jana didn’t fire.
“Jana! Now!”
The rifle barked. The truck swerved, then got back in its lane.
She had missed.
Jana racked the bolt and aimed again. Jacob kept quiet. Why weren’t they returning fire?
Jana fired a second round. The front tire shredded. The truck swerved, the old man tried to compensate, and ended up hitting the drainage ditch on the other side of the road.
His truck toppled over. The canvas tarp on the back flew off, and hundreds of cantaloupes tumbled out.
No terrorists, no bomb, just hundreds and hundreds of cantaloupes.
Jacob brought the helicopter around and hovered over the wreck. Cantaloupes rolled in both directions along the drainage ditch, making it look like a flood of melons. The entire back had emptied out, and he could see no people or suspicious objects in the back. Just cantaloupes.
The old man crawled out of the truck’s cab, shaking his fist at the helicopter and shouting something.
“Whoops,” Jacob said. “Sorry about that.”
“Oh my God. At least he’s OK,” Jana said.
“That’s what he gets for ignoring police advice.” Jacob gained altitude.
“Don’t be mean. He’s probably some policeman’s father who allowed him to pass.”
“Yeah, probably.” In this part of the world, family connections could bend a lot of rules. Whatever idiot bent the rules in this case was going to get a serious chewing out from his superior officer, not to mention his dad.
Jacob looked around, unsure what to do next. Jana looked too.
“Is that a wake?” she asked.
“Where?”
Before she could answer he spotted it too. At the edge of their vision to the south, they could see a large container ship moored along the edge of Great Bitter Lake had moved out of the line and was cutting towards the center of the lake, its wake a white V behind it.
“That must be them!” Jacob shouted.
“That’s a big boat. It will take them ages to get up to speed.”
“Doesn’t matter. The fleet can’t turn around. Even if they stop, they’re trapped.”
Jacob brought the chopper up to a higher altitude to seem less threatening and moved in the ship’s direction, angling over the land in the hopes that the terrorists would think they weren’t a threat.
That won’t last when I try to approach, Jacob realized.
Jana fed two more rounds into the rifle to top it up. Despite shooting at the wrong guy, she seemed calmer now, more focused. She had, Jacob knew from bitter experience, crossed a line. She had assumed that poor bastard back there was a terrorist, and shot at him. Hesitation and fear had been overcome, and now that she faced what they felt sure was the real set of terrorists, she wouldn’t hesitate this time.
But she wasn’t fully trained, no matter how much Aaron had shown her. Jana didn’t have the intense conditioning and field experience a Ranger or CIA operative did. She was useful, but could not replace a real fighter.
She’s all you got. You have to fly the chopper.
As they sped down the canal, the cargo ship looming closer and closer, Jacob fearing that it would go off in a blinding flare at any moment, a flashing blue and red light by the shore caught his eye.
A police patrol boat came speeding out from a small dock in pursuit. It ate up the distance between it and the slower-moving container ship, no doubt blaring a loudspeaker order to stop that Jacob couldn’t hear over the sound of the rotors.
Several figures, tiny as ants, scurried along the sides of the container ship, heading for the rear of the boat. Just as the police patrol pulled up behind and moved to the right to get beside the container ship, several sparks lit up from larger vessel.
Small arms fire.
The police returned fire. Jacob squinted to see the details. He was still too far to make out much.
Jacob wasn’t too far to miss the bright flare, plume of smoke, and quick blur as the terrorists fired an RPG at the patrol boat.
The explosion hit directly on the cabin. The patrol boat swerved, cutting a tight circle, but this was no evasive maneuver. Whoever had been at the helm must have been killed instantly.
Still, the terrorists took no chances. As a couple of tiny figures leapt from the police vessel into the water, the RPG fired a second time, hitting the boat below the waterline. It listed to port and began to sink.
“What do we do?” Jana asked.
“We’re going to attack,” Jacob replied. “We’re going to fly right over the container ship and you’re going to fire on those guys until they take cover. Then we’re going to land and try to find the bomb.”
He looked at Jana to gauge her reaction. She looked back at him like he’d just come up with the craziest idea in the world. And he had.
The problem was, he couldn’t think of a better plan.
“What if they set off the nuke now?” Jana asked. Her voice sounded worried, but did not crack.
Impressive. You really are a lot like your old man.
“We won’t be able to get away in time, even if I fly away now. So let’s go for it.”
Pause. “All right.”
“They must have had a spotter up in Port Said to tell them the flotilla had entered the canal. That’s why they started out. They want to be close enough to catch them in the kill zone, and didn’t want to risk waiting for the flotilla coming here. They must have figured we’re on to them. But they won’t hit the button if they think they can fight us off.”
Jana gave a quick, nervous nod. Jacob did not follow up with what else he thought.
That if he and his half-trained assistant, by some miracle, managed to land on the ship and overwhelm at least part of its crew, whoever was watching the bomb would set it off rather than risk the chance of the bomb being captured.
So if they fled, disaster. If they tried to take the ship and failed, disaster. If they landed on the ship and began to win, disaster.
But at least they could keep it from setting off the American nukes.
And maybe, just maybe, they could overwhelm the terrorists before they set off the bomb.
Jacob didn’t share with his partner just how unlikely he thought that outcome was.
Jana readied her hunting rifle. Jacob swooped over the container ship for an initial pass as the terrorists on board saw them and got into position.
I should have gone on that sailing trip with Gabriella.
CHAPTER TWENTY FOUR
Jacob gritted his teeth as the terrorists opened fire. The container ship was as tall and as long as a city block of apartment buildings. He had no idea how he and Jana were going to find the nuke among all those thousands of containers, but that was a problem for after he managed to land.
In the meantime, he swung the chopper from side to side, trying to dodge the fire coming from half a dozen locations on the boat.
They flew over the prow first. A figure ran along the narrow walkway between the starboard gunwale and the side of the container stack, raising what looked like an AK-47.
Jana aimed and fired. This time, she didn’t hesitate.
She didn’t hit, either.
The man flinched, then fired a burst back. None of the bullets hit the chopper.
Jacob risked flying in straight to give Jana a better firing platform, and when her rifle barked a second time, the figure jerked back and fell on the deck.
“Nice one!”
Jacob winced. That had come out automatically. For a fellow soldier, it counted as encouragement; for a civilian it might sound ghoulish or make her self-conscious.
No need to worry about that. Jana racked the bolt and aimed again. Two more figures appeared, one on each side of the boat. These were more careful, getting to one knee to make a smaller target and, judging from the flares coming from the muzzles of their AK-47s, firing single shots rather than three-round bursts. Jacob had used AKs on a number of occasions and the weapon, while durable, was too light for its caliber. Firing a burst sacrificed accuracy, so much so that firing on full automatic was nicknamed “spray and pray.”
A loud pang, audible over the rotors, told him one of the guys had made a hit.
Jana fired, missed, racked the bolt, and fired again.
One of the figures jerked, dropping his gun and grasping his forearm.
“Good job. Keep firing!” Jacob shouted.
His civilian assistant needed no encouragement. She fired again without hesitation. Getting shot at was a good motivator even for the greenest of civilians, and Aaron had made sure his daughter was as experienced as he could make her.
The helicopter passed over the prow of the ship, flying only about 300 feet above the top of the container stack, Jacob searching for evidence of the bomb.
All he saw was row upon row of shipping containers.
