Don Pendleton - Maelstrom

“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?”