Chapter 24
Bodrum Airport, Turkey
“Load up!” Clark ordered as the doors flew open. “We’ll gear up once we’re airborne.”
Ding opened the rear hatch of the Land Cruiser and began heaving out rucks and weapon cases.
And tonight, that was exactly what they needed.
Clark found the pilots flipping switches in the cockpit. “Do these turboprop engines have afterburners?” he said to announce his arrival.
Both pilots looked back. The left-seater grinned, and said, “Only when they’re on fire.” He offered up a handshake, and said, “Major Paul Wheeler.”
Clark shook his hand.
“This is Captain Vicki Ross,” the skipper added, nodding toward his female copilot.
Both of them were wearing civilian clothes, and Clark wasn’t sure if it was because they’d been scrambled in a rush, or if their unit made allowances to support the spec ops mission. He might ask later if he got the time.
“I’m Clark,” he replied, not bothering with the pretense of an alias. “What did they give you as a mission brief?”
“Jump in, fire up, wait for you to tell us where the hell to go.”
“My kind of tasking. What about comm?”
“We’ve got satellite connectivity, but our input interfaces leave a little to be desired. You carry one of those fancy sat phones like the DEVGRU guys have?”
Clark had no idea. He pulled out his handset and showed it to Wheeler.
“That’s the one. DS when Mary Pat Foley had ordered them to scramble to the airport twenty minutes earlier, she’d told him what was at stake. Now she was providing specifics.
Soon they were airborne, the little C-41 plugging eastward toward their objective. Clark mustered the team and they semicircled around him, sitting on webbed seats and leaning against sidewalls. Everyone was dialed in, alert, and he was glad they’d all gotten some sleep.
He put on his command voice to overcome the drone of the engines.
“The DIA is actively tracking a GAZ transport that they believe is the culprit in this air crash. It’s a moving target, roughly five hundred miles east of our position.
We suspect it’s making a dash for the Georgian border.
Our mission is to interdict this truck, along with two accompanying sedans, before they reach the border. ”
“Any idea who this is?” Ding asked.
“Not directly. The fact that it’s headed to Georgia might give us a hint.
That’s one fence line away from Russia proper, but we can’t assume anything.
This could be pure terrorism, mercs, or state-sponsored players.
The only way to find out who we’re dealing with is to stop this bunch dead in their tracks.
If possible, we are also directed to recover any hardware that might have been used in an electronic attack so our techs can analyze it. ”
“Sounds like this crash really was a GPS spoofing event,” Hyori ventured.
“The DNI seems convinced. If we can intercept this convoy, we’ll get a hard answer. Our specific tactical plan will depend on the situation. The general idea is that we will leapfrog ahead of these vehicles and find a way to stop them.”
“Rules of engagement?” Ding asked.
“The DNI was very specific that we are not to engage Turkish or Georgian forces. That goes for military, police, or border guards. Whoever is inside these three vehicles, however…they are fair game. We will give them the option of surrender, and if they have enough sense to do so, we hand them over to the Turkish authorities. If they choose the other route, then no-holds-barred. For what it’s worth, the area of expected intercept is sparsely populated.
“Our best estimate of the enemy force in these vehicles is between six and twelve individuals. We will assume they are armed and experienced. As a minimum, expect them to be carrying assault rifles. Heavier weapons are a distinct possibility.”
“Is there evidence of that?” Bauer inquired.
“There is. When this truck was identified as suspicious, a Turkish army Black Hawk helicopter went to check it out. As the helo was approaching to investigate, a SAM was launched from one of the sedans. It struck the Black Hawk and it went down hard.”
“Dios mío,” said Ding. “Casualties?”
“Unclear. The Black Hawk’s three Turkish crew members are unaccounted for—first responders are just now reaching the crash site.
But for us, this situation includes one major complication.
As it turns out, there was a fourth person on the Black Hawk.
An observer was on board, a U.S. Navy officer who had been assigned to the investigation in Bodrum.
On top of that, our intel agencies got some overhead footage of the crash site immediately after the shoot-down.
One of these goons could be seen shoulder-carrying a possible survivor out of the wreckage and dumping them into the box truck. ”
“Wait, hold on,” Charlie said. “I was going over SITREPs earlier and I saw the name of one of the officers involved in this inquiry. You’re not saying the President’s daughter—”
“No,” Clark said, cutting her off. “Katie Ryan is in theater, but she’s safe in Bodrum. We are, however, talking about someone we all know.” He looked straight at Charlie. “He actually helped us out in China, on the pier in Tianjin.”
“JC?” she exclaimed.
“The one and only. He and Katie still work together.”
“They took Conza hostage?” said Wu. “Why would they do that?”
“To begin with, I see the fact that they took him as a positive.”
“No reason to haul away a dead man,” Ding reasoned.
“Rarely. On the matter of why, we can only speculate. But it does occur to me that he was in uniform. I’m guessing they made a quick check of the wreckage, saw a U.S. Navy officer, and figured he might be worth questioning.”
“I don’t like that scenario,” Charlie said. “They might question him for fifty miles, ask him why he’s flying around in a Turkish helo. But then what?”
“Look, speculation doesn’t help. We all know JC’s background. He’s a SEAL. He’s been through SERE training, not to mention a few wars. He knows how to handle himself in a situation like this. But he also could be injured.”
Ding said, “He’ll try to buy time. But eventually he’s going to need help.”
Clark locked gazes with his team members one by one. Those faces were typically intense and focused. But what he saw now went to another level. They were immersed in the situation. And they were pissed. He felt it, too. One of their brothers had been attacked and his life was on the line.
“We are looking at a highly dynamic situation,” he continued.
“It’s going to take two hours to get into position.
The good news is, the DIA is getting some great intel from a new AI system they’ve got up and running—a lot of it is near real time.
When we do go in, they should be able to give us a reasonably clear picture. ”
The meeting broke and the team went into prep mode.
In addition to their SIG MCX-SPEARs, everyone carried holstered handguns and various bladed weapons.
Plate carriers and NODs completed the ensemble.
Once their gear was checked and weapons loaded, Clark knew what would follow.
For a time, there would be banter to cut the tension and pass the minutes.
Then, at some point, everyone would carve out a few moments for themselves.
A time for quiet reflection and personal focus.
Clark’s own reflections had already begun. He wondered if the promise he’d made would hold. Would they have a clear picture before they went in?
Yeah, he mused. How many times have I heard that before?