Don Pendleton - Full Blast

While Gardener had his service people and contacts already lining up behind him, there was going to be a need for something off-the-books, a force that could stay away from the military machine as such, while carrying out Gardener’s covert operations with the least possible hindrance. Renelli, a combat veteran, was a natural. He could run the covert team, funded through one of Gardener’s many financial outlets, without having to concern himself with military protocol. Once the operation moved into gear, time would be a vital consideration. One of Renelli’s responsibilities would be unforeseen events. Incidents that might, if left to run unchecked, create difficulties for the main body of the operation. Gardener had explained from the start that due to the fluidity of the Iraq situation and the homeland operation, which would require the ability to be changed at a moment’s notice, he—Renelli—would need to be able to operate within that kind of environment. Renelli saw no problems there.

Before dawn the next day Gardener and Renelli had drawn up a list of names of men, all ex-military, who were to be approached. The offer would be similar to what Renelli had been made. The men were to be recruited to be part of Renelli’s team. Answerable to him initially, but with Gardener as their ultimate commander. The team was to be provided with anything it needed. Money was no object. Gardener had the ability to procure weapons that could be concealed via judicious juggling of orders and needs. Renelli’s team would be paid for by Gardener Global and equipped in part by the U.S. government.

The scheme had been running smoothly until Luke Jacobi had stumbled in on something he would have been better to have left alone. That hadn’t happened. A little ball-fumbling had allowed Jacobi to walk out free and clear. Gardener wanted retrieval before Jacobi passed that ball to someone who might run with it.

A LITTLE WHILE LATER Gardener received a call from McAdam himself.

“If this is about the senator, I already know.”

McAdam grunted his acknowledgment.

“We’re working on it.”

“Rod, I have my own people on it. The matter is well covered.”

“Fine. That wasn’t the main reason I called,” the CIA man said.

“So?”

“My contact at the White House has just confirmed what we talked about yesterday. Time and date as previously suggested.”

“Good news, Rod. And your other reason for calling?”

“They picked up Lane in Chechnya. Word just came through. He’d gone looking for that camp Dushinov is said to have running to train Khariza’s crew. Some local agreed to guide him in, but they were caught. The local ended up near skinned to the bone. Dushinov’s men took Lane. That’s all I know right now.”

“Did Lane pass anything back before he was captured?”

“No. I hadn’t heard from him for a few days. Last report said he had a line on something, but he couldn’t give it a name yet.”

“Can you get anyone else into the area to try to extract Lane?”

“Not likely. Our station man said the locals have shut down. He can’t get anyone to help him after what happened to Lane’s guide. This rebel, Dushinov, has the territory out there pretty well under his heel. The guy has kicked the Russians out of his backyard for Christ’s sake. He’s a scary mother.”

Gardener leaned his head against the backrest of his seat, staring up at the curved ceiling of the cabin.

“Chase, you still there?”

“Just thinking. If we can’t get to Lane, then all we can do is hope he keeps his mouth shut. Call me sentimental, but I hope he dies quick. If he starts to get a loose tongue, it could have repercussions. Rod, I’ll be back at the ranch late tonight. Fly out and we’ll have our talk. The senator will be joining us for the weekend.”

“I already had the same thought about Lane,” McAdam said. “I’ll see what I can do about him. Don’t hold your breath for quick results. Talk to you later.”

Gardener closed the line. He experienced a moment of excitement at McAdam’s confirmation of the earlier news. It meant they were going to have to bring their move forward, but he found that stimulating. The sooner they embarked on their plan, the better. Too much waiting around could allow things to go wrong. He was taunted by the image of the man named Jacobi, one of his former soldiers. A man now on the run because he hadn’t gone along with Gardener’s plan and had then taken it a step further by doing some snooping on Gardener and his people and had actually got them on videotape. Gardener was trying to contain the matter, but the longer Jacobi remained on the loose, the greater the chance he might expose what was about to happen. Having to bring matters forward like this was going to eliminate potential disasters. He called Renelli to update him on the situation.

“Still leaves Jacobi on the loose, General. He could find someone and convince them to look at that damn tape. Word gets out, it would make it impossible for us to go ahead.” Renelli paused. “General, you don’t think those Justice agents have had contact with Jacobi? Maybe he got through to them and it’s why they’ve been doing some checking?”

It gave Gardener a moment’s concern.

“No, I don’t believe so. If Jacobi had told his story and played that tape, we would be locked down by now, wondering what day it was and where we were.”

“If that’s so, General, we’re still clear we need to move fast.”

“I agree. I was giving the problem some thought just before you called. So we can’t afford to leave Jacobi on the loose where he can do anything to harm us. Can we, Renelli?”

Chase Gardener Ranch—Present

GARDENER STOOD, turned away from the view with a certain reluctance and watched the CIA man crossing the floor. McAdam looked like someone carrying the troubles of the world across the shoulders.

“Good trip, Rod?”

“Nice to see we can keep our sense of humor,” McAdam said. There was a slight peevish edge to his words. He pointed to the tumbler in Gardener’s hand. “Mind if I have one of those?”

Gardener gestured to the liquor cabinet.

“Help yourself. The large tumblers are at the back.”

McAdam took him at his word and filled a tall glass. He took a long swallow then topped up his glass before he turned back to Gardener, who had made his way to his big oak desk. McAdam took one of the comfortable leather armchairs facing the desk.

There was a silence until Gardener waved his own tumbler as an opener.

“And?”

“I managed to get word to one of my people in the area. He’s going to try to get a line on Lane. No guarantees. That part of the world is hard to crack. Those Chechens are difficult to deal with. They still operate like the damn Mafia. My guy will do what he can.”

“What about these so-called Justice Department people? Who the hell are they?”

McAdam shrugged. He swallowed some of his drink.

“A shrug hardly impresses me, Rod.”

“What else can I say? Chase, I have trawled every damn database I can access. There isn’t a known intelligence agency in existence I haven’t looked at. These guys are so off the wall it isn’t true.”

“So who are they? Reporters from Sixty Minutes? Come on, Rod, there has to be something about them.”

“Nothing, Chase. If they’re genuine, then they don’t have any recognizable remit.”

“Well, we need to find out. Jesus, Rod, you work for the fucking CIA. You run a covert black-ops section with carte blanche independence. Right now I am not exactly impressed by its competence. I brought you on board because we’ve worked together in the past and you think along the same lines as I do. Rod, wake up. I can’t afford any slip ups. It’s a damn good thing my people have these Justice agents under observation.”