Cliff Ryder - The Ties That Bind

It was a large metal Quonset hut painted over with a sand-and-white camouflage pattern to help it blend in with either snow or the sparse earth that surrounded it. A tower on the back side of the building held some kind of electronic equipment; he could hear the faint hum of it, even from his position. Based on the fact that none of this had been picked up on any of the satellite imaging they'd done prior to the mission, he assumed that it was some sort of radar-jamming device.

He checked the two guns he was carrying and made sure the extra clips were still on his belt. He attached a small sound suppressor to the end of his Glock, and moved around the truck, looking for an easy entrance into the building. He paused and lifted the flap covering the truck's cargo area. As he suspected, it was filled with crates much like those he and Tina had recovered from the smugglers before.

He kept moving and peered around the end of the truck just as a man walked out of the building, lighting up a cigarette. As the man moved off to the other side, Jason pulled a knife from his boot and threw it into the ground, blocking the door from closing and locking. Moving on silent feet, he quickly assumed a position behind the smoker. Some tiny sound must have alerted him because he started to turn just as Jason reached him.

The man opened his mouth to shout a warning, when Jason's palm slammed into his throat with brutal force. The only sound that escaped was a dry wheeze as the man stumbled to his knees, gagging and trying to find enough air to breathe through his crushed larynx.

Spinning him around, Jason grabbed the man's head and neck in a lock and twisted it hard. The bones snapped like dry twigs. Jason dragged the deadweight around the corner of the building and back over to the far side of the truck as fast as he could.

No one seemed to have noticed the quick and dirty fight, so he ran to the door, peeked inside, then pulled the knife from the ground and slipped through, letting it shut softly behind him. The entry was barren. There was no sentry or front security except the lock on the door that clicked in place once the door shut. Jason was a little surprised at how it all looked, but he knew that looks could be deceiving and he wasn't about to let his guard down. Someone here had to have money, access and power to have that kind of equipment, and no one wanted that many weapons unless they had a dangerous agenda.

Jason walked down a narrow hallway. The first door on the right was an office. The door was locked. He heard footsteps heading his way and behind him, the front door was opening again. Damn! he thought. There must have been a second guard on the far side of the building.

He pulled his knife free again, slid it into the doorjamb and pried upward, popping the lock. He ducked inside the office as quickly and quietly as he could, then slid down against the wall, waiting to see if they were coming his way. The two sets of footsteps passed as the two men acknowledged each other briefly, and then they continued on to their original destinations. Jason knew it wouldn't be long until the missing man was noticed.

He moved to the desk against the far wall. The desk itself was clear — no phone, no computer. He opened the drawers — nothing there. The office was clean except for a map on the wall. Jason took an image of the map and then headed to the door.

The hallway was clear, and he kept moving. There were no other offices, but he found two other rooms, both of them situated as barracks-style sleeping quarters. One held two men snoring heavily, most likely the guards who worked the night shift. He left them alone.

What the hell was here that was important enough to require radar jamming? No receiving area, not even one for smuggled rifles, would be this well guarded, and it didn't make sense that the Asp was housed here. There was no cover for it outside.

The hall curved and then steps moved down and into the earth. The temperature increased and steam blew past him. He kept going, trying to make his large frame invisible against the wall. The stairs emptied into a large cavern that appeared to have direct access to the ocean. Packing crates along the side provided cover, and Jason was glad for the shadows and the chance to assess what he was seeing. It was going to take him a minute to recover from his surprise.

Three submersibles were docked along the underground waterway. One was being loaded by two men, at least one of whom must have been one of those who had passed him in the office upstairs. The cavern was massive, but the water was divided by sections of rock, and some sections of the water had steam pouring off, making the air stifling.

The submersibles were standard Russian Mir minisubs. Nothing looked particularly different except the extra length for the cargo that was being loaded.

Jason pulled out his PDA. The scanning system showed that most of the weapons in the room were the same, but he was getting a nuclear signature from one of the crates. It was already on the sub farthest down the dock. Jason moved to the next set of crates, trying to get closer. The reading came back as enriched uranium. He wasn't sure what the exact device was, but he knew the product was bad. He waited another minute, but realized that he was too late as the sub began to sink into the depths.

A submarine with supercavitation capabilities and a nuclear weapon in the same area? The smugglers weren't just a small-time operation. They'd gone corporate or were being led by terrorists or Mother Russia was back and she was pissed.

Jason took as many readings as he was able from his position, then headed back out of the room. He needed to get out and get word to Denny that things were much worse than they'd feared.

He was almost at the front door when he was spotted. The guard pointed at Jason, but before he could sound the alarm, Jason was on him. He pulled a pen from his pocket, leaped forward and yanked the man to him, whipping him around and covering his mouth with his free hand. The man's dark eyes widened in surprise at the sudden attack.

This wasn't the time for a fight and even just snapping his neck might take too long. Jason pushed a tab on the pen and a needle extended from the tip. He jabbed it ruthlessly into the man's neck, and held him tightly as the poison raced through his system, killing him in seconds. Jason lowered him to the floor, noting how the guard's hands were still grasping for his heart even as it stopped.

Jason had picked up the poison during one of his first trips into South America. Some members of the indigenous tribes were experts in herbology. The poison was lethal and untraceable, and best of all, it came from a pretty flower that he could order online and was perfectly legal. So far as he knew, only a handful of people in the world knew the more esoteric uses for it.

He ran from the building, dodging behind the trucks, then made his way back to where he'd left the quad. He started it up and was heading back to the village when he noticed Tina waiting for him on the next rise.

"I thought I told you to go back to the village," he shouted as he pulled to a stop next to her.

"Well, I was worried you might need help," she said.

"Not this time. We need to get back and quickly. They'll be looking for whoever infiltrated their operation down there, and I need to get in touch with my superiors. This isn't just a small-time weapons-smuggling outfit."

"Okay, but could we plan these outings a little better? I felt like a sitting duck out here, and I absolutely hate feeling like that. If nothing else, I would rather have some different equipment with me, including some better cold-weather gear," Tina said.

"If you'll recall, I told you to go back to the village and wait. In fact, I told you not to come when we were down at the cove." Exasperated, Jason asked, "Do you ever listen to anything you're told? You must have driven your poor grandfather to the edge of insanity."