Extraction (John Taylor #8) - Chapter 11

Washington D.C.

“We have a problem,” a voice said, coming through Kara’s cell phone scanner.

She’d been back out early this morning, all of the equipment in a large backpack that she’d lugged onto the bus carrying all of the equipment she’d gotten from Carter, since she didn’t have access to a car today. Had she been willing to explain to Mary Jane what was happening, she could have probably gotten her friend’s car again. While Mary Jane would have probably been on board with this, Kara had something in the back of her head telling her she needed to keep this all under wraps for now.

So here she was, sitting on a bench with a backpack partially open in her lap, an earphone cable snaking inside so she could hear what Packer was up to. Who knew what this looked like to a random passer-by, but no one had called the cops on her yet, so for now this would have to do.

Thankfully, Packer seemed to be holding to his earlier pattern and wasn’t leaving the house except for short walks to the river when he needed to make a phone call. She had the tracker on his car if he did go somewhere and she could get a cab or an Uber, but she couldn’t just get in and say ‘follow that car.’ She’d have to wait till she figured out where he was headed, or wait until he stopped to follow him, which meant she’d lose sight of him for a while. If he was meeting with someone, there was a good chance she’d miss the meeting entirely. There wasn’t much she could do about that, however.

“Hold on,” Packer’s groggy voice came back.

The line went quite and Packer emerged from his front door a few moments later dressed much more shabbily than he normally was, probably because he’d thrown on anything he could find.

As he walked away from his apartment building, Packer held the phone up to his ear and his voice came back on the line, saying, “What?”

“I got the satellite feeds from last night. It looks like the raid failed and we spooked them. They packed up the package and the hostages and took off an hour after the raid.”

“Do we know where they went?”

“Not yet, but they headed southwest, so the smart money says they’re going back to Hofyo. Even if we find someone else willing to take the job, that’s Barsane’s home village. Hell, he has an old Soviet tank sitting out front to discourage his adversaries.”

“Shit. Did any of our people make it out?”

“Someone did. We tracked a truck take off north and someone returned on foot a few hours later, doing a walkthrough of the compound?”

“Do we know who it was?”

“No. We don’t have access to the higher resolution satellites, at least not without someone higher asking questions.”

“What about our source?”

“Since they’re moving, they could only send out a brief message. I don’t expect to hear from him again until they get to Hofyo.”

“Was Taylor the one that got away?”

“I don’t know.”

“I’m betting he was. He’s like a God-damn cockroach. If it was one of the others, they would have contacted me by now and asked for new orders or extraction. The only one who wouldn’t is Taylor. We can’t have him running around there on the loose. When he was with Stone, they could keep control of him, but now he’s by himself.”

“Could we use him to try and get the package back?”

“Not a chance. Guy’s a fucking boy scout and he’ll start asking questions as soon as he gets it. Smart money says he goes to the bitch for answers, and her people will figure out what’s going on.”

“So what are we going to do?”

“I think we’re going to have to scrap retrieval. Once they get it back to Hofyo, I think we need to just take out the damn town.”

“How? Getting a team on the ground is one thing. A flyover mission with enough firepower to clear the town is another.”

“I know. Let me think on it. Maybe we can pay some other locals to do it for us.”

“What about the hostages?”

“Fuck them. They aren’t paying us. Hell, if we destroy it our payday is gone and we’re making nothing off of this. They deserve it.”

“I’ll start putting out feelers through our contacts down there and see if we can find someone willing to do it.”

“Put out Taylor’s description. I want to confirm he’s still alive, so we know if we need to deal with him.”

“Got it. I’ll call you when I have something.”

For once, Kara was hoping Packer was right about something. When the other man had said the raid failed, she was terrified for a second that he had been hurt. If someone got away though, she was sure it was Taylor. He’d been in worse situations and made it out alive.

Rikomoni, Somalia

A jostling against his shoulder slowly pulled Taylor back awake. He squeezed his eyes shut harder against the sunlight so bright that he could see it through his eyelids.

For a moment, he was lost in a fog, and couldn’t remember where he was. He didn’t open his eyes, but the smells were off. It smelled of dirt and sweat and burning coal.

“American,” a voice in Arabic said from beside him.

Her voice pierced his sleepy haze and memory came flooding back. The failed raid, the escape with Lopez, the empty compound. He moved his head and the light faded, allowing Taylor to open his eyes. The room was still dark. The light had been a single shaft coming in through a crack in the doorway curtain.

“What time is it?” He asked, sitting up and getting his bearings.

“Afternoon. Abdullah has returned.”

He looked past her to where her husband stood by the stove, rubbing his hands together.

“Did you find them?”

“Yes. I spoke to my brother. He’s a fighter with the Feedh Ilaah, who controls this region. He says they are headed back to Hofyo, where Muharibi Allah is from.”

“Did you tell him why you were asking?”

“No, and he wouldn’t ask, because if he does not know, he cannot tell anyone. He does not know of you. Now take your friend and go.”

“I need to make a call and see about getting him picked up. Is that alight?”

The man looked like he wanted to say no, but his wife glared at him and said, “Yes. Take the time you need.”

“Thank you.”

Taylor pulled out the satellite phone and dialed in the code Wheeler had given him.

“On station,” A voice said over the phone, giving no other information.

Fucking CIA.

“This is Taylor. I need to speak with Wheeler.”

The woman didn’t say anything else and the phone clicked silent. Since satellite phones didn’t have dial tones, it was impossible to tell if she’d hung up on him or put him on hold, so he waited. Thankfully, it didn’t take long.

“Taylor? What the hell happened out there? We hear they’ve pulled out.”

“It was a shit show. Stone just charged straight in and got wiped out.”

“And the merchandise?”

“Your concern for the hostages is touching.”

“I could give two shits about them. If the merchandise is gone, then you and I don’t have anything else to talk about.”

“Cool your jets. I went back and checked out the compound a few hours later. They all pulled out, and some of Stone’s team is missing and I assume hostages themselves now. They also took a large piece of equipment with them.”

“Tell me about the equipment.”

“All I could see was its negative impression, what was left behind when they removed it. It’s rectangular, four feet wide on one side, about five and a half on the other. They kept it in a room full of other computer equipment which looked like mostly networking and servers, all of which the hostiles smashed. It was on a raised platform with under-floor cooling and there were connections dropping down from the ceiling that looked to snake back to the networking equipment.”

“Hold on a second,” Wheeler said the sound of ruffling papers in the background. “Was it all one unit?”

“It’s impossible to know for sure, but I got that impression.”

“How tall was the room?”

“Standard. There was no drop ceiling but the raised floor ate up just about as much room, maybe nine feet.”

“And you said it was four by five, right?”

“In that range. I didn’t actually have a tape measure with me. Does this mean you know what it is?”

“Maybe.”

There was a long enough pause that Taylor said, “And?”

“And nothing, it’s classified.”

“Fine. I found out where it was and where it’s going. You got your information, now I need my ride. I’ve got an injured man and he needs medical help now.”

“It’s not enough. I can’t risk sending helos into that region for just this. If you want a ride, you need to retrieve the item, or at least disable it. Then we can talk about extracting you.”

“Fine, then my next call is going to be to the President. She might not be able to help me get out of here, but she’ll be interested to know about the shit that’s going on around here. Now, are we ready to have a real conversation about what happens next, or are we going to keep blackmailing each other?”

There was a pause and he knew he was pushing Wheeler’s buttons, but Taylor was almost positive that the man was operating a bit out of the net. They wouldn’t have a station chief in Djibouti poking his nose around the African coast. There’d be someone on the Somali desk that wouldn’t be happy a station chief was operating above his paygrade. He’d worked with Bryant, so Wheeler probably wasn’t being an asshole for the sake of it, but the CIA played office politics for keeps. A station chief at an out-of-the-way place like Djibouti would need to have something serious to show for himself if he wanted to move up in the world. Whatever was going on here, Wheeler clearly thought this was it, and he was doing things the way he knew how to do them. Problem was, that more often than not screwed the people on the ground, and Taylor wasn’t planning on playing along.

“Well, I guess that gives me my answer. It was nice working with you.”

“Wait!” he said before Taylor could disconnect.

“Fine. What will it take for you to help us out?”

“One; I need to know what the hell is going on down here. I’m not going to let bad intel screw me. Two; you need to get the wounded kid out, and it has to be today. Three, a local family has been aiding us after that screwed-up raid, and we need to pay them.”

“I can’t just hand out …”

“You’re joking, right? You guys have black bags inside black bags. Reach into one and break off some cash. Do those three things and I’ll do what I can to help. If not, find someone else willing to do your dirty work.”

“Fine. I can have an evac helo to the original pick-up point. Can your friends get him there?”

Taylor switched to Arabic and asked, “Could you drive my friend to an empty area near the coast if I showed you it on the map.”

The husband started to shake his head no, but the wife said, “Yes.”

“Yes, they can get him there. Make sure you have their money for them, and if I find out anything happened to these people, you will regret it.”

“Look, we got off on the wrong foot. I’m not an asshole.”

“That’s good, although I’ve had enough bad experience with your coworkers before that I’m not big on trust. I just want to make sure we know where we stand with each other.”

“I’ve got it. Tell them to have him there in three hours.”

“I’ll make sure they’re there. What about the intel?”

“I want to say up front that this is all guesswork. It fits the facts you’ve found, but I’ve got no solid information to back it up.”

“Understood.”

“Northbridge has been working on a new missile guidance system for our anti-missile systems. From what I’ve heard about the tests, it’s steps ahead of the iron dome system the Israelis have in place. Things were going pretty good until about two months ago when setbacks started happening and the delivery date was pushed back. About a month ago we started hearing chatter about some kind of auction for a classified US weapons system.”

“The black market?”

“More high level than that. Someone was shopping something around and claiming it was a current design for a next-generation weapons system not currently employed by the US, and they were offering it to the exact people you wouldn’t want to see with it. Russia, Iran, North Korea, and China are all bidding on it, and whoever it was shown to was enough to make them put up serious money. I’m hearing numbers in the hundreds of millions. Problem is, these negotiations have been very one on one. We’ve been working on it, but we haven’t been able to see what’s being offered or who’s offering it.”

“Something about the Northbridge compound makes you think this was the item?”

“Partially. Like I said before, Northbridge setting up a remote location in Somalia made no sense, which is why I asked you to look into it in the first place. When added with the chatter about the sale of a weapons system right as that location was getting up and running and the fact that nothing new has been heard out of Northbridge since the last deadline they missed, it started to fit. The specs I’ve seen so far match the dimensions you listed, and it’s the only thing I know of that does, and would be far enough along to be looked at by competitive nations like the Russians and the Chinese, and all the chatter was about a weapons system, not a weapon itself.”

“Could it be something else?”

“Maybe, which is why I want someone to get eyes on it. We need to know what’s being sold so we know how to deal with it.”

“Has there been any chatter since the initial raid by Barsane? Did whoever is selling the item pause the auctions?”

“No, but I think that’s why this entire operation to ‘rescue the hostages’ was rushed. They needed to get it back before it threw their plans off or before Barsane could announce he had it and start a new auction.”

“So you definitely think Barsane knew it was there and the entire raid was to capture it.”

“Yes, I’m positive of that. Like I said, the whole hostage thing never made any sense. The only reason he would push that far into Feedh Ilaah territory. They might not be strong enough to take on Barsane in his own territory, but they are for anyone who makes an incursion into their own territory.”

“So why did Barsane’s men wait that long at the compound. Why not unhook it and leave right away.”

“That was probably the plan. They don’t really have the technical expertise for these kinds of things, so I’m betting they were trying to be careful with the merchandise, at least until you and White Mountain spooked them.”

“So once I find it, what’s the plan?”

“The plan is, you recover it or destroy it. There’s not going to be any cavalry on this. State Department policy for the country is to build up the national government, and one of the things they’re pushing hard is to respect their sovereignty and give them supplies to handle internal conflicts themselves. I think mostly they want to avoid a repeat of Mogadishu, but either way, we can’t be seen doing anything without their permission, so you’re on your own. We can manage a pickup, explain it away as humanitarian or some such nonsense, but anything combat-oriented will cause a backlash. We also have to minimize even the non-combat incursions, which means any pickup has to happen back by the coast so we can get in and out. If you’re still in country as far as Hofyo, we can’t get you.”

“So you want me to drive into central Somalia, by myself, attack a fortified village of one of the larger warlords, retrieve or destroy the stolen asset and, if possible, retrieve the hostages. You understand that’s impossible for one person, right?”

“Sure, but you’re the one that wants to rescue his friend, is asking us to medivac someone out, and wants us to pay off some locals. I’m just telling you what it’s going to take for that to happen. You want to walk out and drop all this, be my guest.”

Taylor was pretty sure he was bluffing, at least to a point. Wheeler wanted Taylor to track down and take care of his problem for him and it was unlikely he’d get someone else in country any time soon. Still, he couldn’t take that chance with Lopez’s life, and he was planning on heading in-country anyway, since he wasn’t prepared to walk away yet. Also, if they were trying to sell off a new targeting system, that could be very bad for the US and Taylor wasn’t willing to put other soldiers in danger if he was able to do something about it.

“Fine. I’ll make sure Lopez is at the coordinates when you get there. Keep your phone handy, ’cause when I call, it might be important.”

“Just don’t screw this up,” Wheeler said in response.

On that piece of unhelpful advice, Taylor hung up and prepared for his trip to Hofyo.

Step one was to make sure his new friends could actually get Lopez to the rendezvous. He showed them on his map where they needed to be, and thankfully they understood without too much trouble. He also explained that the people coming to pick up Lopez would be bringing them money as well, to show America’s appreciation for their help. The wife seemed somewhat embarrassed by the idea. she’d made it clear that she’d helped out of her duty to God, who taught her that it was her duty to offer a hand to anyone in need, but especially a guest in her home. The husband, however, was not embarrassed in the least, and had been the reason that Taylor had pushed for the money for them. Despite the wife’s insistence that they would help, Taylor wanted to guarantee that Lopez would make it to the medivac, and he needed a way to ensure the husbands’ help. Money looked to be the answer and, from his reaction, Taylor was pretty sure he’d been right from the look on the man’s face when he mentioned the money.

Taylor said goodbye to his young friend and hoped his parents could use the money to see the young man got a better leg up on life than a lot of people in this part of the world. Taylor plotted a course that would keep him away from major population centers, what few there were. While it wasn’t actually all that far, maybe four hours driving, Taylor debated whether he should wait for a while, and make the drive in the dark, since a White man driving cross country would stand out, and the last thing he needed was word getting back to the warlord and his people.

Anyone with half a brain would put together the raid, the stolen equipment, and a white man driving towards them and figure out where Taylor had come from. No matter what plan he came up with, Taylor would be outnumbered, which meant surprise would be the only way anything could happen.

Taylor drove southwest, taking a winding path that was charitably called a road on his map that would get him close to Hofyo. After that, everything would be cross-country which, considering the state of the truck he was driving, might or might not work out. While he drove, Taylor considered the position he was in. Even though he had enough leverage on Wheeler to get the man to cooperate, that wouldn’t last forever. If Taylor did manage to achieve everything, Wheeler would suddenly have no more need for him and might even consider Taylor a liability, since that was how the CIA always seemed to think. The last thing Taylor wanted to do was put his trust in someone he was positive would stab him in the back at some point. Which is why he was using his satellite phone to call home and set up a backup plan.

“Hey,” he said when Whitaker answered.

“Is everything okay? Did you get Nash out?”

“No, it went to shit. Whole team got shot up and I only managed to get one out. Charging in head first was the only thing they could think of.”

“Are you okay? Did you get hurt?” Whitaker asked, sounding worried.

“I’m fine. I saw it falling apart and pulled out. I tried to get some of them out with me, but they couldn’t see that Stone had screwed up. That young kid Lopez I told you about got hit, so I grabbed him and high-tailed it.”

“Is he okay?”

“I don’t know. He got hit bad and there isn’t much in the way of medical support out here. I arranged for an evac from a CIA contact I met in Djibouti, which is why I’m calling.”

“I’m listening.”

“When the raid failed, the militia took some equipment Northbridge was working on and the hostages and pulled back to their home village further in-country. The CIA, or at least the Djibouti station chief, wants me to get information on a piece of equipment that was stolen out of the Northbridge compound and the State Department is blocking them from bringing any of their own assets to bear. They’re hoping to use me as an end-run around the State Department, but that means they’re going to want deniability when this is all over.”

“You need to be careful. They’ll screw you over if they can.”

“No kidding, which is why I need an ace up my sleeve.”

“You want me to talk to the President, don’t you?”

“Yes. If anyone can keep this from coming back on me if things go bad, it’ll be her. She can’t intervene directly, since they’ll need deniability as much as the CIA will; but she’ll be able to put pressure on them to not pull a fast one.”

“I’ll talk to her, but are you sure you should still be doing this. I know I pushed you to go and help bring Wayne Nash home, but that was when you were with a full team. Running off by yourself in a place like that is dangerous.”

“It’s gone beyond Nash. If what these guys stole from Northbridge is what Wheeler thinks it is, and it ends up in the hands of one of our enemies, it could be very bad. If I can keep Americans from being put in danger, I’ve got to try.”

“I’m just worried about you.”

“I know, and I’ll be as careful as I can. There’s also something else I need you to do.”

“Name it.”

“The talk about sales of US hardware started before the compound was raided. In fact, it started around the same time Northbridge moved people out here to the worst possible place they could be. I can’t help but think they chose Somalia because the US has so little presence here at the moment. This can’t be a coincidence.”

“Surely the CIA figured that out.”

“They did, but right now Wheeler seems to be the only one actively involved with it, and he’s playing everything really close to the chest. I think he’s angling to work this into a promotion, which means he hasn’t passed a lot of this up the chain of command. I’d have reservations if it was an actual CIA operation, but it being just one guy looking for a leg up makes me even more concerned the right people won't find out about this.”

“You want me to talk to Joe?”

“Yes. I’m not sure how far up this goes in Northbridge, but they have access to a lot of classified intel. If they’re selling one thing to our enemies, they won’t hesitate to sell more.”

“Agreed, I’ll work on it.”

“Good. I gotta go.”

“Okay. Make sure you come back to us. I’m not ready to be a single mother with a newborn. You need to be here when this baby is born.”

“I wouldn’t miss it for the world,” Taylor said and disconnected.