Dale Brown - Act of War

“Are they crazy?” Secretary of State Parker exclaimed. “What in hell is going on with this unit of yours, Chamberlain? Are they out of their minds?”

“Under whose authority did he think he was operating, Chamberlain?” chief of staff Collins asked heatedly. “Yours?”

“I wasn’t privy to his decision-making logic, Miss Collins,” Chamberlain said distractedly.

“Oh, great…!”

“In any case, the task force did find this terrorist leader, who had been captured by government troops…”

“And our guys fought with the Brazilian army?”

“The troops were apparently trying to kill the terrorist leader, not arrest him, on orders of an unidentified foreign fighter,” Chamberlain said. “I’m unclear as to the details, but the bottom line is that the task force captured the terrorist second in command.” To the President, he went on: “Sir, they are now requesting permission to pursue leads that might result in the capture of the terrorist leader himself. They are requesting that the rest of the task force deploy to Brazil to assist.”

“Not only should they not deploy—they should all be court-martialed!”

“For what, Collins—doing their jobs?” Chamberlain asked. “They said they had concrete evidence linking this terror organization with the blast at Kingman City, and they acted. That’s exactly what they should be doing. I may not agree with them doing this without coordinating with me, but at least they acted.”

“That’s enough,” the President said. “Robert, make sure the task force members stop what the hell they’re doing and await further orders. No other contact with local law enforcement or the Brazilian military until I give the word. Brief State and Justice right away on the task-force members down there and their capabilities—especially that robot thing that’s tearing the place up.”

“Yes, Mr. President,” Chamberlain said, picking up the telephone and looking immensely relieved.

To the Secretary of State, the President said, “Chris, speak with the Brazilian Interior Ministry about getting our guys official sanction while they’re down there before the world press thinks we’ve just started an invasion of Brazil.” He paused for a moment, then added, “And talk to him about getting them permission to hunt down terror suspects down there. If our guys are pursuing the ones who planned and carried out the attack on Kingman City, I want full cooperation.”

São Paulo, Brazil

A short time later

Ray Jefferson closed his cell phone. “That’s it,” he said. “We’ve been ordered to stand down and await further orders. No other task force deployments authorized.”

“This could be our only hope to capture Ruiz before Khalimov gets him,” Kristen Skyy pointed out.

“We’ve exceeded our authority as it is,” Jefferson said. “Mount up and let’s get out of here before more PME troops arrive and they decide we’ve broken the law—which I’m sure we’ve done.”

Jason Richter hesitated. Then, he turned to Kristen: “Do we have enough fuel to get to Abaete, Kristen?” he asked.

“Sure.” Kristen saw the look on Jason’s face, and her own expression turned serious. She shrugged and added, “Maybe just enough. We should stop there to refuel.”

Jefferson shot an angry glance at Richter. “Major, I warned you…”

“Sir, Abaete is north of here,” Jason interjected quickly. “We need to make a fuel stop as we head northbound, don’t we? Abaete is just as good a place to stop as any.”

“There’s a restaurant at Abaete Regional Airport that serves the best churrasco—Brazilian barbecue,” Kristen said with a twinkle in her eye. “You boys will love it.”

“You clowns got it all figured out, don’t you?” Jefferson asked irritably—but he nodded: it was exactly the excuse he was looking for. “All right, mount up. And get that CID unit fixed as best you can, Dr. Vega—I have a feeling we’re going to need it.”

Abaete, State of Minas Gerais, Brazil

That evening

“I see you chose to disobey orders and stop in Abaete after all, eh, Sergeant Major?” Robert Chamberlain remarked via their secure cellular phone.

“Yes, sir,” Sergeant Major Ray Jefferson replied. He knew that their cellular phones had a GPS tracking system that continuously broadcast their exact position; he would have reported their stopover point in any case. “I can explain.”

“It’d better be good.”

“Sir, Kristen Skyy’s information has been dead on so far,” Jefferson said, “and we have every reason to believe our captive’s information is good too. We already have a large quantity of intel on this terror group and its links to Kingman City—there was no way we could simply overfly this location on our way north without checking it out.”

“Sergeant Major, that’s just not good enough to send a classified military strike team into a sovereign nation and have them blasting up the place,” Chamberlain said. “I don’t have any clearances for you yet. The Brazilian government has authorized you to be in the country with PME escorts, but you have no authority to go out searching for Ruiz or the Russians or anyone—you must turn over all information you have to the PME immediately or your authorization to be there will be revoked and you could be arrested if you have any weapons on you at all. If you get caught, the U.S. government can’t protect you. Make this just a fuel stop and get out of there as quickly as you can.”

“Sir, we have a Brazilian military police officer with us who has procured landing rights and authority for us to travel with our equipment, including the CID unit…”

“He can’t authorize you to take the CID unit into battle.”

“No, sir, but he hasn’t said we couldn’t.”

“Playing fast and loose with the rules now, Sergeant Major? Doesn’t sound like you at all.”

“As I said, sir, I believe we’re close to making a very large break in the terrorist organization that attacked Kingman City,” Jefferson said. “I think it bears investigating.”

There was a long pause on the line; then: “Is the CID unit operational?”

“They’re still working on it, sir, but I think it’s down permanently. It took quite a beating in São Paulo—I’m still amazed Richter survived it. But the robot is definitely broken.”

“Probably just as well—I can’t imagine the shit-storm if you used that thing again down there without authorization.” There was a momentary pause. Then: “Very well, Sergeant Major. I’ll try to expedite getting you some kind of official clearance to be there, but for the time being you’re going to have to rely on Miss Skyy’s press credentials and whatever authority your PME officer has to get close to this Jorge Ruiz character, if he’s still alive. Try to avoid any contact with any more of the local gendarmerie. Grab Ruiz if you can, collect any intel on this GAMMA organization you can find, and get back here on the double.”

“Yes, sir.”

“I don’t need to tell you that most everyone in the White House wants your head on a platter right now,” Chamberlain went on. “You should have stopped the team from going to Brazil. If Kristen Skyy had truly actionable information, we could have gone through official law-enforcement channels, grabbed those GAMMA operatives, and maybe even enhanced international relations. You could win this battle and still lose the war by getting the task force canceled and yourself and your team members kicked out of the service—or worse.”

“I understand, sir. I had a decision to make, and I made it. In light of the attack on Kingman City, I felt it was the only option I had.”

“I hope you’re right, Sergeant Major, but I wouldn’t count on too many happy moments for you and your people once you get back to the States,” Chamberlain said seriously. “Just remember, until I get you some kind of emergency authorization, you’re down there on your own. If you leave that airport, I can’t protect you.”