Maelstrom

McCarter also noticed that Kissinger had managed to gather the weapons operators and engineers away from the hot zone. With innocents out of the way, it would make it easier for Phoenix Force to do its job.

McCarter keyed the transceiver. “Blue team.”

“Go,” came Encizo’s voice.

“We’ve lost sight of you, mate. Are you clear?”

“We’re in the range building.”

McCarter scanned the grounds and quickly found the location. The range building was, in fact, a small wooden structure dug into the earth, its roof and about two feet of uprights actually aboveground. McCarter had seen many like it. It was designed for range cadre to mark distances during live-fire exercises and call back the data to weapons operators. McCarter had familiarized himself with the process long before, when competing in pistol matches all over the world. But that had been a lifetime ago, when he was still with the SAS. Now the enemy seemed to have the advantage.

McCarter meant to change that.

“Red team, what’s your status?”

“We’re inside the observation building,” Hawkins replied.

“Do you have a clear line of fire?”

“We did…until they blew up the damned bleachers. Now there’s too much smoke.”

“Hang tight, mates,” McCarter said, hearing the tension in his teammate’s voice. “We’re coming for you.”

McCarter and James got to their feet and continued charging toward the demonstration grounds. The group of ATV riders was now inside the fence line and headed straight for the prototypes. The Briton got within what he deemed was a reasonable distance, then knelt and steadied his MP-5K. He delivered another sustained burst, with James following suit. Another rider’s body flipped sideways off the ATV and his machine caromed off that of one of his partners before rolling onto its side and stopping, one handlebar leaving a gouge in the soft dirt-sand mix of the demo grounds.

James entered the fray, capping one of the several hardmen in a group that had reached the prototypes. Rounds from the MP-5K slammed into the rider’s back as the man dismounted from his ride, and he pitched forward violently and landed face-first.

McCarter could now see the winking of muzzles from the open slit in the range building. It looked as if Manning and Encizo had them in a cross fire. The Briton grinned. That pair was performing admirably, despite the overwhelming odds. Phoenix Force was neither heavily armed nor prepared for this kind of an assault. They weren’t packing any spare clips, heavy weapons or explosives of any kind. The enemy had every advantage here.

As if in response to the thought, McCarter heard the unmistakable sounds of two grenade launchers being fired. He yelled at James to get clear as he got to his feet and sprinted toward a large boulder. The natural terrain here was rocky, comprised of heavy dirt and sand. There were plenty of boulders like this around, especially in their area, which is why McCarter had chosen it as strategic for observation. That decision was probably going to prove to be one that saved his life and the life of his colleagues.

When the grenades struck, he’d managed to get far enough away. The only consequence was the shower of dirt and rocks—the direct result of his proximity to the explosions. As the last of the debris settled, McCarter risked exposure by glancing at the area over the boulder. His heart sank into his stomach when he saw the motionless form of Calvin James lying close to the smoldering impressions left by the twin blasts.

“I’ve got one down,” McCarter said into the microphone of his transceiver.

Then he left his cover and rushed for his friend.

IMMEDIATELY FOLLOWING McCarter’s transmission, Hawkins made it a point to find Kissinger so they could discuss their options.

“This isn’t good,” Hawkins said.

“That’s an understatement,” Kissinger replied. “You’re the pro here. What do you want to do?”

“Our first mission is to protect these people,” Hawkins said in a hushed tone. “I can’t very well leave you alone with them, and if I try to get to David, I’ll get my ass shot off.”

“I can stay here with them.”

“And do what?” Hawkins asked with disbelief. “You’re not packing. I’ve got the only weapon, and it’s just a pistol. And if we don’t get out of here very soon, Kornsby’s going to bleed to death.”

“Yeah, we really got caught with our pants down on this one,” Kissinger replied. “But I think we’ll be okay without you. I think whoever the hell that is out there is after the prototypes, and nothing else.”

“Maybe,” Hawkins replied, gritting his teeth. “But I just can’t take that chance.”

ENCIZO AND MANNING could barely see through the haze and smoke left in the wake of additional grenade explosions. This didn’t account for the smoke that was filling up their position. It stung their eyes, causing them to choke, and it wasn’t dark or thick, which told the pair that they were the victims of CS gas. The enemy was stealing the prototypes and there wasn’t a damned thing either of them could do about it.

Encizo couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt this helpless.

As Manning wiped tears from his face, he said, “I hope Cal is all right.”

“I’ll tell you what,” Encizo said, one muscle twitching in his cheek. “If he’s dead, I’ll hunt down every one of those bastards and kill them barehanded.”

“Let’s not jump the gun, Rafe,” Manning said quietly. He cleared his lungs with a fit of coughing and then continued. “We don’t know if he’s dead or not dead. David just said he had one down. We don’t know what that means.”

Encizo’s eyes were as haunting as his expression. “I know what it means.”

Manning decided not to argue with his teammate; partly because he didn’t see any point and partly because he knew it didn’t much matter. The roar of the ATV engines and subsequent fading as they moved away from the demo grounds told the whole story. Their enemy had escaped with their booty and Phoenix Force had been unable to stop them. The reasons no longer mattered, that was just the way the chips had fallen.

One thing was certain in Manning’s mind. This wasn’t over. Not even close.

CHAPTER TWO

Stony Man Farm, Virginia

The unlit cigar nearly fell from Harold Brognola’s mouth as he sat forward in his chair.

“Say that again, please?”

Barbara Price, the Farm’s mission controller, had just walked into the big Fed’s office and set a cup of coffee in front of the man. She took a seat in front of his desk. Price immediately observed the knuckles of Brognola’s hand turning white. He was clutching the phone and furrows were forming above his eyebrows. That wasn’t a good sign. It meant the Stony Man chief was stressing, his anxiety building to a point that would one day either cause him a stroke, heart attack or some other fatal ailment. He already suffered from digestive problems.

“Okay, I’m sure we’ll hear from our people shortly. Thank you for calling, sir. I’ll keep you informed.”

Brognola dropped the phone into the receiver.

“Hal, what is it?” Price asked.

“That was the President,” he said, looking her in the eye with a granite expression. “The Secretary of State just notified him that there was what the Australian government described as an ‘incident’ at the conference.”

“What happened?”

“Apparently a dozen or more heavily armed men, which by the way have not yet been identified, attacked during the middle of a demonstration and began shelling the area with grenades and automatic weapons fire. Security teams responded, including Phoenix Force, but apparently there were some casualties. One of them was identified as a black man belonging to a, quote ‘private security detachment assigned to the conference,’ end quote.”

“Calvin.”

“There’s no confirmation of that yet,” Brognola reminded her with a stern look and a wagging finger. “And there have also been no reports of any deaths, so let’s not jump to any conclusions until we know what the hell is going on.”

“Well, why haven’t we heard from Phoenix yet?”

“I’m not sure,” Brognola replied. “It may be that if one of them was injured, they’re getting medical attention first. I’m sure David will contact us when he can.”

As if on cue, a buzzing sounded on Brognola’s phone. It was a unique signal that indicated the call was coming from the internal voice and data communications network that connected the farmhouse with the Annex, a new underground facility that housed highly advanced centers for communication, cybernetics and security to support all of Stony Man’s operations.

“Brognola,” the Stony Man chief barked into the phone. “They are? All right, we’ll be right there.”

Price wasn’t sure she’d ever seen him move so fast. Brognola was out of his chair and hurrying toward the electric car that ran nearly a quarter-mile underground between the farmhouse and the Annex. Price followed him with all of the same vigor.

The big Fed flipped a switch and the car obediently surged toward the Annex. “That was Aaron on the phone. He says that David’s called in.”

“Did he say how he sounded?”

Brognola shook his head. “I don’t think Aaron knows yet that there was even trouble.”

“Well, if I know David, he knows now.”

They arrived at the Annex and a minute later they were standing outside the Computer Room, their way blocked by a burly guy with a wrestler-like body that was, unfortunately, confined to a wheelchair for life. Still, that fact had never broken the mind or the spirit of Aaron “The Bear” Kurtzman. The indomitable technology genius greeted them at the door and raised a cautionary hand.

“Everyone’s okay,” Kurtzman reported. He fixed Brognola with a gentler expression and added, “Including Calvin.”

Price felt the anxiety ebb from her and she could literally see the tension dissipate in Brognola’s shoulders. She thought it odd that she could read her boss, even from the rear, but the tension in his posture had been so evident that the relief could only be equally so.

Kurtzman turned and entered the Computer Room, followed by Brognola and Price.

Brognola said to strategically placed speaker phones, “David, you with us?”

“Yes, and you bloody well kept me waiting long enough here, Hal.”

Price couldn’t help but smile. She winked at Brognola when he looked at her and smiled triumphantly before saying, “Report.”

McCarter sighed. “We took some pretty bad hits. This has to be one of the worst security gigs we’ve ever done.”

“I just got off the phone with the Man, and he tells me the Australian government was hedging when briefing the SOD.”

“That’s a mild understatement, “ McCarter replied. “They had just completed their fourth demonstration and were about to move on in the presentation when it all hit the bloody fan. Aggressors were dressed in standard desert camouflage fatigues, carrying a variety of automatic rifles and machine pistols, and launching high-explosive grenades into the area like it was free.”

“How many are we talking here?”

“A dozen, give or take. We managed to bring down about half before it all went to hell.”

“Were you able to determine origin?” Price interjected.

“No, but there wasn’t exactly time to ask them where they were from, and none of us got close enough to tell. They were definitely thorough. They not only got the weapons, but they managed to round up their dead.”

“Obviously looking to avoid any type of identification,” Price concluded.

Brognola nodded at her, then asked, “What’s Calvin’s status?”

“He’ll pull through. The bugger took a bit of shell shock. The concussions from their HE grenades damn near knocked us all batty. We had to get him and all of the civilians evacuated first before I could touch base with you. We’re at our hotel now and this is the first chance they’ve given us to contact you.”

“First chance who’s given you?”

“Investigators from the Crown,” McCarter replied in a sour tone.

“They have no right to hold you under any circumstances,” Brognola replied. “I made sure your credentials granted you diplomatic immunity. I’ll make a call and get you released.”

“Well, make it quick, will you? We’re in a foul mood here, and the rest of the blokes are about to vote on making a break for it and shooting our bloody way out of here. Can’t say as I blame them, and I might just do it anyway.”

“Don’t cause any trouble. Just hang tight and keep a low profile. I promise I’ll have you out of there within the hour. In the meantime, give me whatever else you can.”

“Well, I can tell you this was no ordinary terrorist attack.”

“How so?”

“Our friends here had a particular goal in mind. They came with the intent to steal the new prototypes from Stormalite Systems, and that’s just what they did. It didn’t seem like they were interested in taking hostages or murdering innocent civilians.”

“So they weren’t looking for shock value,” Brognola said. “Go on.”

“It also seems obvious they knew exactly what they were doing, Hal, and they got away with it. Their tactics were ingenious and unfamiliar. I don’t think I’ve fought against a group quite like this. Very methodical and calculated.”

“You said there were maybe a dozen or so?”

“Yes.”

“Okay, so that means just a small group was trained for this operation. And given they knew what to hit and how to hit it, I’d have to guess very specialized in these kinds of operations. I agree with your assessment. This was no ordinary terrorist attack. This was a military operation.”

“Or at least an attack by a group well-versed in military tactics,” Price added.

Kurtzman shook his head with a disbelieving expression. “Mercenaries?”

“Possibly,” Brognola replied. “It would explain the theft of these prototypes.”

“Well, I managed to get in a few words with the blokes from Stormalite before reinforcements showed up. Thanks to Cowboy, I managed to glean the inventory that was stolen. I’ve got it here on our transceiver if you want me to send it.”

“Do it,” Brognola said, nodding at Kurtzman.

The computer wizard did a one-eighty in his chair through a single motion from his powerful arms and raced over to a communications console. He got to the nearest keyboard, which consisted of nothing but a flat rubber base with soft-touch keys, and quickly entered a fifteen-character alphanumeric code. A moment later tones similar to a fax-modem resounded through the room in bursts. The data transmission took less than thirty seconds.

“Bear, did you get it all?” Brognola asked when the tones ended.

Kurtzman checked the large, flat-panel LCD monitor at a nearby workstation and nodded. “You bet. Looks like there’s a full inventory here of everything they had, plus schematics. Very nice work, David. But how did you get all of this in such a short period of time?”

“I downloaded from one of the engineer’s notebooks.”

“That’s good work,” Brognola said, and they knew he meant it because the Stony Man chief wasn’t one to toss compliments lightly. “That’s excellent work, as a matter of fact.”

“So, what do you think this mysterious new group might be planning?” Price asked.

“I was hoping you might have some ideas about that,” McCarter replied. “We’ve talked among ourselves here about it already, and the consensus seems to be that this group plans to build additional weapons from the prototypes.”

“Agreed,” Brognola said. “There’s no way this group could do much with the prototypes. While these weapons are powerful, there aren’t enough of them in circulation to be effective during a terrorist operation.”

“There’s something else we have to consider,” Price said.

“What’s that?” McCarter asked.

“Well, it’s possible this group doesn’t plan to use the prototypes at all. Up to this point, we’ve assumed they have some purpose or use with them, but maybe they just stole them and plan to sell to the highest bidder.”

Brognola nodded. “That would fit more in line with the mercenary theory.”

“We considered that at our end, and immediately dismissed it,” McCarter replied. “They went to some considerable risk to get these weapons. They had it planned to the last detail. If an outside party hired them, then they gave the group a lot of privileged intelligence. Much more intelligence than I would think such a group would have.”

“David has a point,” Price said, nodding in agreement.

“Well, we can sit around on our duffs and debate this for the next ten years, or find out who this group is and what they want. With that information, I think we might have enough to figure out where they’re going.”

“We’re already working with the Australian security team that was charged with this here. Our contact is a guy named Tad Kornsby. He’s a pretty good chap. Even though the Aussie’s federal agencies are ready to jump in, they’re still hedging until asked for help. Right now, we have to rely on local and state police authorities to investigate and it’s taking them for-bloody-ever.”

That made sense. The Australian Security Intelligence Organisation was responsible for gathering intelligence and producing information that would alert Australian officials—particularly the Department of Defence—to any threats against national security. However, the ASIO was a last resort, and it was natural that local police agencies, operating under the jurisdiction of South Australia’s Minister of Justice, would want to keep control. This would remain in the hands of state authorities until such time it was determined that this attack was actually a terrorist attack, or that the prototypes had been removed from the country. Thus far, it didn’t sound as if there was any evidence to support either of those scenarios, and so the ASIO would naturally not become involved until such proof surfaced.

“I’ll see if I can get the President to nudge this up a bit, David. In the meantime, I’ll definitely get you freed up. If this group plans to smuggle those prototypes out of the country, I want to be able to put Phoenix Force on their trail at a moment’s notice.”

“The sooner, the better, Hal,” McCarter replied.

Price said, “You mentioned something about an angle you were working with the locals. What’s the story there?”

“This group attacked us using four-wheelers. They left a few of them behind, so the SA’s Justice Technology Services are going over every inch of them to determine their origin. They also apparently have video surveillance tapes that might have captured pictures of one or more of the players. We’re hoping we can get our hands on them.”

“You know, Bear,” Brognola interjected, “if any of those tapes have pictures of our people, we’re going to have to make sure they disappear.”

Kurtzman sighed. “Yeah, and that’s going to take some time. But I’ll get our contacts working on it. I’ll also see if I can glean some information from the tapes once we have them.”

Brognola nodded, and then said, “We’ll start digging in here and see what kind of intelligence we can get you, David. It’s going to take us a little time, but I’ll make this everyone’s top priority. I’ll also get the Man briefed on your situation there. Expect to hear from me within twelve hours.”

“I hope we have that much time,” Price said after the call was disconnected.

Brognola didn’t reply.

Adelaide, Australia

JUST AS BROGNOLA promised, federal officials contacted South Australia’s Ministry of Justice. They were ordered to extend all diplomatic courtesies to Phoenix Force, and every member of the team was free to move about the country as necessary. That trouble resolved, Phoenix Force was able to solicit cooperation from men working under Tad Kornsby, and the SAMJ officials assigned to investigate the attack at the demonstration grounds.

Their first order of business was to view the tapes. David McCarter and Rafael Encizo met up with Kornsby’s second in command, Anthony Halsford, at the Justice offices in downtown Adelaide. When they were finished viewing the tapes, Halsford turned off the television monitor and then sat back on the table and folded his arms. He was a burly fellow, with a shock of reddish hair. He had thick sideburns, beard and a mustache that were reminiscent of the type worn by many officers during the American Civil War. Thick, aromatic smoke curled from an ornate pipe clenched between his teeth.

“So…what do you think?” Halsford asked. His Australian accent was heavy and his voice a rich baritone.

“I think we’re dealing with terrorists, mate,” McCarter replied.

“I agree,” Encizo added. “Those guys were definitely more than mercenaries. If they look like terrorists act like terrorists and move like terrorists, they’re probably terrorists.”

Halsford pulled the pipe from his mouth and eyed the Cuban warrior with a mix of interest and suspicion. “Kornsby tells me you’re a private security detail hired by Stormalite Systems.”

“That’s right,” Encizo said in a congenial tone.

“For a security group, you seem quite well informed. And from what I saw of your movements on those tapes, I’d guess this isn’t the first time you’ve been in these kinds of circumstances. Am I correct?”

Encizo smiled but kept the tone in his voice cool. “It’s probably best you don’t ask any more questions like that. Nothing personal.”

Halsford studied Encizo a moment and then shook it off with a shrug and a grin, stuffing the pipe back in his mouth. “It’s nothing to me. We’ve got the go-ahead to cooperate with you mates in whatever way we can, and as I understand it, that came straight from the prime ministers office.”

“Tell me something, Mr. Halford. What do you know about those four-wheelers recovered by your people?”

“Our technical people are still examining them. We believe they were purchased from several local dealerships throughout the city, as well as some surrounding areas. The blooming things aren’t exactly uncommon here. The locals have been swearing to hundreds of sales daily.”

“So they won’t be so easy to trace,” Encizo finished for him.

Halsford frowned. “I’m afraid that’s true.”

“What about these tapes?” McCarter asked. “How many people have seen these?”

“Aside from yourselves, only I have—and my immediate superiors.”

Encizo stepped forward, slid an arm around Halsford’s shoulders and patted the guy’s arm with camaraderie. “I don’t suppose you could keep it that way for a bit longer. Could you?”

Halsford shrugged. “I don’t believe it would hurt anything, as long as I can get some cooperation from you in return. How would you make it worth my while?”

“Well, let’s talk about that,” McCarter said. “Your federal boys don’t know anything about these tapes yet, right?”

Halsford nodded.

“That means they don’t necessarily have to know about it. And if our people can get a look at those tapes, then maybe, just maybe, we could make sure whatever information we get we share with you.”

Encizo smiled and whistled. “That would look awfully good on you and Kornsby, huh? You’d be the first to crack the case. I’m already picturing it—press releases, newspaper headlines, CNN interviews.”

“Not to mention the commendations and promotions,” McCarter said, adding some additional fuel to Encizo’s already roaring fire.

“Did you say promotions, mate?”

“You bet,” Encizo said. “We’re talking at least captain, maybe even major.”

There was a long silence and the two Phoenix Force warriors could tell from Halsford’s expression that the wheels were turning. Of course, they didn’t have any real control over that stuff, but a word from the Oval Office could make a little go a long way. And they certainly wouldn’t leave Kornsby’s people hanging on this. They would find some way to make good on it without actually promising anything. Stony Man’s connections ran wide and deep, and touched members of the highest governmental circles in nearly every foreign government.

“Very good, then,” Halsford finally said. “As the Americans like to say, ‘We have a deal.’”