Tom Clancy - Locked On

“To see Paul Laska, apparently.”

There was a long pause. “ The Paul Laska?” “Yep,” said Ryan. “This is preliminary, but we think it is possible that they knew each other in Czechoslovakia.” “Okay,” Clark said it with a confused tone. “Go on.” “Right after Oleg’s visit to London, Valentin races over to Moscow for two weeks. He gets back to London, and a few days later, the indictment on you drops out of the sky.” Clark filled in what he knew. “When he was in Moscow, Valentin sent a crew of thugs out to get intel on me from sources in my file with the KGB.” “Weird,” said Caruso, who’d been silent until now. “If he is SVR, why didn’t he send his own people?” Clark answered this quickly. “He wanted to use cutouts to insulate him and his service from this.” “So Valentin knows about you through Laska?” asked Ryan.

“Looks like it.”

Ryan was confused. “And Laska knows about you… how?” Sam Granger answered this. “Paul Laska runs the Progressive Constitution Initiative, the group that is defending the Emir. Somehow the Emir fingered Clark, and Laska is orchestrating this all with Russia because he can’t let on that the Emir is passing intel to him.” Hendley ran his fingers through his gray hair. “The Emir may have described Clark to his lawyers. They, somehow, got a picture of you from CIA.” “So Paul Laska and his people are using the Russians, running their version of a false-flag operation,” said Clark.

“But why would the Russians go along with this?” asked Chavez.

“To hobble the Ryan Presidency, or maybe even kill it outright.” “We have to go after Laska,” said Caruso.

“Hell, no,” Hendley said. “We don’t operate inside America against Americans, even misguided sons of bitches like him.” A mild argument broke out in the room, with Caruso and Ryan on one side, and the rest of the men on the other. Chavez stayed out of it for the most part.

Clark stopped the argument. “Listen, I understand and respect that. I will try to get more information on my end that we can use, and then I will report back.” “Thank you,” said Gerry Hendley.

“There is another situation.” “What’s that?”

“A crew coming after me. Not Russians. Not Americans. French. One of them died in Cologne. I didn’t kill him, exactly, but he’s just as dead. Don’t guess his buddies are going to listen to my side of it.” The men in the conference room looked at one another for a moment. They had all heard the news about the death of tdley ran hhe Frenchman, supposedly at the hands of John Clark. But if Luc Patin was part of a team after Clark, that meant there was another force involved in all this. Finally Rick Bell said, “We’ll try to find out who they are. Maybe we can look into the dead guy a lot closer than the international media has, try and find out who he was working for.” Clark said, “I appreciate it. It wouldn’t hurt to know what I’m dealing with on that front. Okay. Got to go. You guys focus on getting Sam back.” “Will do,” said Chavez. “Watch yourself, John.” When Clark hung up, Dominic turned to Domingo. “Ding, you’ve known Mr. C the longest. He sounded tired, didn’t he?” Chavez just nodded.

“How much longer can he go on? The guy’s what? Sixty-three, sixty-four? Shit. He’s more than twice my age and I’m feeling the effects of everything I’ve been through the past few weeks.” Chavez just shook his head as he looked off into the distance. “No point in speculating how long his body can hold up to the day-to-day wear and tear.” “Why not?”

“Because if you do what John does, sooner or later, you’re going to go out quick. One of the bullets that have been whizzing past his head for damn near a half-century is going to have his name on it. And I’m not talking about that little scratch he got in Paris.” Caruso nodded. “I guess we all have an expiration date on us, doing what we do.” “Yep. We roll the dice every time we go out.”

The meeting was breaking up, but the conference room was still full when a call light on the phone console in the center of the table blinked again. Hendley himself picked it up. “Yeah? Good, put him through.” Hendley looked to the men standing around. “It’s al Darkur.” He punched the conference button to put the call through the speakers. “Hello, Mohammed. You are speaking to Gerry, and the others are listening in.” “Good.”

“Tell me you have good news.”

“Yes. We have found your man. He is still in North Waziristan, in a walled compound in the town of Aziz Khel.” Chavez leaned over the desk. “What are you going to do about it?” “I have planned a raid on the compound. At this point I have not asked for approval because I do not want the information to leak out to the men holding him. But I expect the rescue attempt will launch within three days’ time.” Chavez asked, “How did you happen to find out about this compound?” “The ISI has known about the compound — it is used as a prison for kidnap victims of Siraj Haqqani. But the ISI did not have anyone of value held there, so there was no reason to risk tipping our hand about the existence of our intelligence asset that provided the information. I persuaded someone to tell me.” Chavez nodded. “How many gomers you think are there?” Al Darkur paused on the other end. “How many what?” “Sorry. How many of Haqqani’s people? How much opposition at the compound.” A longer pause. “Maybe you would prefer to ny not know the answer to that question.” Chavez shook his head. “I’d rather have bad news than no news. Something I learned from a friend of mine.” “I think your friend is very wise. I am sorry that the news is bad. We expect there will be no less than fifty Haqqani fighters billeted within one hundred meters of where Sam is being held.” Ding looked at Jack and Dom. Both men just nodded to him. “Mohammed. We’d like to come over as soon as possible.” “Excellent. You men proved your talents in Dubai. I could use you again.” After the phone conversation with the ISI major, the three Campus operators sat back down at the table. They were joined, again, by Hendley and Granger.

It was clear that Jack, Dom, and Ding wanted to go to Pakistan, and they wanted to be involved in the raid on the compound where, according to the ISI, Sam Driscoll was being held captive by the Haqqani network.

Hendley did not want to send them, but as they pled their case he realized he could not deny them the chance to rescue their friend.

Gerry Hendley had lost his wife and three kids in a car crash, he’d lost Brian Caruso the year before in a Campus mission that he approved, and these facts were not lost on the other men in the room.

Gerry wanted Sam back as much as or more than anyone else on the team.

He said, “Men. Right now, like it or not, Clark is on his own. We will support him here, in any way we can, if he checks in with us and requests more help.

“This opportunity to go after Sam.” Hendley just shook his head. “It sounds like a shit sandwich. It sounds really dicey. But I will never be able to live with myself if I don’t allow you guys the chance to go after him. It is up to the three of you.” Chavez said, “We’ll go to Pesh and talk to al Darkur. I trust him. If he says the men who are leading the raid are on the up-and-up… well… that’s about all we can ask for, isn’t it?” Hendley agreed to let them go, but he was under no illusions they were just going to feel the situation out. He could tell by the looks in their eyes that these three men would be heading into battle, and he wondered if he could live with himself if they did not come back.

General Riaz Rehan sent a message to all of the organizations under his control. Not to the leadership of the organizations but to dozens of individual cells. The active units in the field were the men Rehan trusted to do their duty to his cause, and he took the time to spend the day in communication via e-mail, Skype, and sat phone, ordering them all into action.