involved at this level?”
“If an opportunity arises and no-one else is around, I’ll do whatever needs to be done,” he replied with some irritation and handed Zak one of the pistols, a pair of Night Vision Goggles and a couple of grenades.
The Sheikh was beginning to wish he had never involved Zak but with Deif sending a bomb to America, operatives were thin on the ground and he needed help. Once in position, just a few hundred yards from the house, the Sheikh ran through the plan. A few tweaks later they were ready to go. Darkness was falling and the lights were beginning to come on in the home below them.
A phone ringing in the house alerted Mrs Charles Baker to the unwanted visitors. The alarm company alerted them to potential intruders. Mrs Baker thanked the alarm company very much and immediately told Clark and her husband about the call. There was little they could do. They certainly couldn’t call the police and their friends were miles away in Helena, the State capital.
Following the call, Clark ensured all windows and doors were locked. It could of course just be deer or wildlife knocking the contacts but she didn’t think so. Coincidences were something non-professionals believed in. Somebody had found the location, it had only been a matter of time in any event.
Just as the Sheikh was about to give the ‘go’ signal, he stopped. A bright spot had appeared on the side of the house. He knew it wasn’t coming from inside. It was a tiny spot almost undetectable to the human eye. In fact, it was undetectable to the human eye, he realized, as he removed the Night Vision Goggles. Where the spot should have been was nothing, no sign of any light at all. Putting the goggles back on, there it was, clear as day.
He nudged Zak and pointed to the spot. Zak took one look and knew exactly what was happening. He scanned the tree line with his goggles and picked up the contacts he knew were going to be there.
“Shit!”
“Exactly, I think we should pull back, don’t you?”
“Yep!”
Both men began to crawl back, keeping their heads down and careful not to alert the others to their presence. Once at a safe distance and hopefully out of sight, they hightailed it back to their rental car parked just off the main road. They had no intention of being anywhere near the house when all hell broke loose.
The Avenger had proven its worth already and having lost nearly twenty good men already, CIA Director Johnson was not taking any chances. A small team of the Clandestine Service had arrived in Montana earlier in the day and made its way to the mountainside house. Their job on this occasion was simply to paint the target for the weapon which would be dispatched from the Avenger some 20,000 feet above them.
The laser designator was switched on as the Avenger came into range. Although naked to the human eye, there was no need to highlight their arrival. One minute after lighting up the target, they got the heads up that the weapon was on its way. As Ben had predicted, the Americans were using a sledgehammer to crack a nut. A GBU-24 Paveway III bomb was making its way towards the house, Two thousand pounds that would turn the cabin into matchsticks if there were any pieces left large enough to be considered useful.
The laser spotters took cover as they received warning of the bomb’s imminent impact. The operator watched as the bomb glided right into the side of the house exactly where the laser told it to. A microsecond later, the house ceased to exist. A demolition team would take weeks to do what was accomplished in less than a second.
The Clandestine Team took one look at the area and devastation and left the scene. Although in the middle of nowhere, it wasn’t going to be long before the locals came to see what had just woken up half the state. Their job was well and truly accomplished.
A very pleased CIA Director informed his President of a successful conclusion to the mission.
Chapter 54
Paris, Charles de Gaulle.
Sam and Rebecca sailed through customs and immigration. Their false identities worked perfectly. As Rebecca pointed at the link that would take her to her internal flight to Nice, it was time to say farewell. Sam was about to say goodbye when he thought better of it. He was a United States serviceman, retired but ultimately the job being undertaken by Rebecca was to safeguard the US and, as such, he had a duty to assist. He had already discovered that James Lawson was spending the day and evening with the president, so he was going to be hanging about in any event.
“How far is Nice?”
“About 90 minutes,” replied Rebecca.
“So I could be back in Paris in plenty of time for a midnight visit to Mr Lawson?”
Rebecca smiled. “I don’t see why not!”
While Sam bought a ticket to accompany her to Nice, she called Ben. The news was not good. He informed her of the bombing of Baker’s hideaway, assuring her that he had nothing whatsoever to do with it. He then brought her up to speed on Deif.
Rebecca watched as Sam paid for his ticket. She didn’t want him to leave. For the first time in a very long time, she was enjoying someone else’s company. If she told him about the bombing, he would leave immediately. She would hold off until after the job in Nice, she thought. Then she’d tell him.
“Everything OK?”
“Perfect. He’s still there, a team from the Paris office have been watching him.”
“What, they’ve not taken him in?”
“Oh no, he’s mine. I made someone promise me a long time ago that I would be allowed to take this guy down.”
“We’ll be there by 12.30 and the last flight back is at 20.55, so you’ve got me for another eight hours.”
“Excellent,” beamed Rebecca, fighting her better judgment.
Having managed to secure his seat at the last minute, Sam was forced to sit next to a rather loud and annoying Brit who, by 11 am, was already on his fourth G and T and about whom, by the end of the flight, Sam knew pretty much everything. He was in shipping and had decided somewhat belatedly to take a last minute holiday down to Cannes. He’d been in business in Paris and just thought, sod it, what’s the point. He’d spent the last month trying to find a ship that could get a shipment from China to France, anywhere in France and had failed. In the middle of a worldwide recession, he couldn’t get hold of a boat. God alone knew where they all were. As far as he was aware, nobody had been able to find a ship for months, they were all at bloody sea. Of course they were at bloody sea, he had screamed as he recounted the story to Sam, they’re ships, that’s where they’re supposed to be! Anyway, with no ships to hire he’d thought sod it, a week in the sun and I’ll worry about it when I get back.
Sam was very happy to reacquaint himself with Rebecca who laughed as he recounted his ear bashing. She, on the other hand, had sat next to the most charming gentleman who had offered her a trip on his yacht if she were free over the next few days.
Sam couldn’t help feeling the tiniest bit jealous as he thought Rebecca may be interested in the offer. He was very much relieved when she added the creep had given her a card after kissing her hand. She promptly produced the card and threw it in the nearest bin.
A small toot alerted Rebecca to the Paris Head who was waiting for her in a small Renault Twingo. As far as Sam was concerned, all European cars were small but the French and Italians had, it seemed, made it an art-form. Sam squeezed into the back, all six foot two of him, into a space meant for what Sam could only assume was a small child under the age of five. Rebecca introduced Sam as a colleague and left it at that. Sam noticed the demeanor of the Mossad Paris Head who would be considered very senior within Mossad. Rebecca was very obviously his senior.
The Paris Head briefed them both on the way to Deif’s location, some 60km away, in a small coastal village called Antheor. The villa was, as the Head described, rather spectacular. Set on the top of a small cliff, it was very
