Kilmer sensed a change in sentiment. From the relaxed look on most of the men’s faces, their initial reticence seemed to be thawing. Other than Rafie, there seemed to be a consensus that the plan looked achievable.
“Ya got it, mate. Should be cake,” Kilmer replied. “When the lights blow, ya figure Stark’s takin’ out both guards, so ram the gate and drive directly to the containment buildin’. While Dallas and me are in the bunker, yer cover for the guys fallin’ back. When we’re all t’gether, drive out this side entrance to the rondo point on Bayshore Drive,” he said, pointing to the exit. “The Humvee will cozy into the back of the Peterbilt; then we split up and meet the next day. Only Colt, Dallas, and me stay with the cargo, the rest of ya’ll split.”
“You make it sound like we’re invading a Boy Scout camp,” Rafie piped up again, still annoyed from Kilmer’s earlier rebuff. “There’s a flaw in your plan, Richard. You don’t know the extent of the counterforce we’ll be facing, the amount of firepower they have, or the location of possible reinforcements. You’re rushing the team into a terribly deadly situation. We need more time to study the security detail,” he said, hoping to slow the growing support.
“Rafie, I admit the plan ain’t aces,” Kilmer replied. “But we’ll catch the mob off guard. Our firepower, night- vision, and the compressed timeline put the odds in our favor. I agree…more recon would be peachy, but we don’t have time. We go with the new moon t’morrow as planned. If there’s no more questions, I’d like to know if any other piker wants out o’ the op.”
“Hold on there, Boss,” Rafie said, irritably. “I didn’t say I was out. And I’ll come up with your diversion. But for the record…this one stinks. Watch your backs, boys.”
While there was still some grumbling from Terry Ventura and Tommy Starkovich, the balance of the men seemed reasonably confident the mission presented no more uncertainty than any others in which they had engaged. Sully Metusack was always in a good mood, no matter the mission he was offered. Likewise, Ivan Krilenko was stoic throughout the briefing, nodding approval of his assignment and the overall plan. It didn’t look like Colt or Weaver had anything further to add to the discussion, so it appeared Kilmer had his team to tackle the Lawrence Livermore job.
“Good oh, mates, glad to have ya on board. We gear up t’morrow 21:00 to walk through the plan one last time,” Kilmer concluded.
Most of the team members shuffled slowly to their feet, some lingering to discuss the plan more informally, and Weaver stayed long enough to shut down the video equipment. Rafie was the only one that remained convinced the plan had serious flaws, but was unsuccessful in galvanizing resistance. To his credit, he didn’t make a big fuss expressing his discontent, realizing there was no merit in pushing his lone dissent. He quietly gathered his notebook and retreated from the conference room without further comment.
Kilmer had to admit that Rafie was dead-on accurate. The lack of specificity about the security detail and the inordinate cover positions the lab provided was indeed problematic. He appreciated that Rafie hadn’t pressed the point. Kilmer knew he should apologize for taking him to task in front of the men.
Regardless, Kilmer was supremely confident that the plan he designed would yield the results that Holloway demanded. It wasn’t prudent tactical planning to attain an objective that induced disproportionate casualties. In this case, however, the loss of a critical team member, or two, was an acceptable risk given the complexity of the mission and the expected payoff. He hoped like hell there were no more than a dozen guards at the lab or the causalities were likely to dramatically rise. His pulse quickened at the thought of the approaching mission. He realized his life, too, was very much on the line.
TWENTY-THREE
Washington, D.C.
Sela Coscarelli checked the time on her cell phone and frowned. It was getting late and she figured that her father was most likely still at a dinner, being schmoozed by constituents or lobbyists, or had already left the senate office for his Georgetown apartment. She knew he hated cell phones and it wasn’t likely he had it with him, so she decided to call his chief of staff, Benjamin Dare. He’d know her father’s whereabouts and could get him a message to call her immediately. She dialed Ben’s number and waited for the call to connect as she walked to her office.
“Dr. Coscarelli, it’s so nice to hear from you. What can I do for you?” Ben answered pleasantly.
“Hello, Ben. Good to hear your voice, too. I’m hoping you know where my father is. Please tell me he’s not in a late committee meeting. It’s important I speak to him…immediately,” she said, pausing, letting her last word hang to magnify the sense of urgency.
“Well, it’s your lucky night, Sela. The senator just returned from dinner. He’s still in the Hart building. Shall I have him call this number?”
“No, Ben, have him call my office number. He’s got all my contact information at his desk. I’ll be waiting.”
“Okay, stand by. We’ll get you two together. I hope everything’s all right. Take care, Sela,” Ben said, ending the call. Whatever was bothering Dr. Coscarelli, he knew it was important. He had never known her to be given to drama or affectation. Her expression of urgency was sure to draw the senator’s attention. He went right into the senator’s office to brief him on the call.
“Senator, pardon the interruption,” he said, barging into the ornately decorated office of one of the most powerful political figures in the United States Senate. Alfonse Coscarelli did not look kindly on interruptions to his carefully managed schedule. Ben Dare was one of few staff members that could barge in uninvited, but he chose his times carefully. He knew this interruption would not be questioned.
“I just received an urgent call from your daughter Sela. She would like you to call her office immediately, Senator.”
“Is that what she said, Ben…‘immediately’?” Senator Coscarelli questioned.
“Yes, sir,” Ben replied. “She sounded agitated, but I didn’t press for details. We can go over your committee agenda later. I’ll make sure you’re not interrupted. Take your time, sir.”
“Thank you, Ben,” Alfonse replied, quickening to the request from his oldest daughter.
“Sela, this is Dad,” he said briskly.
“Oh, hi, Pop. I’m so sorry to bother you,” she said, brushing past their usual pleasantries. “It’s Sarah. She’s got more family problems. Ryan’s on the run from the law and Jeremiah’s left school.” She told her father the entire story then added, “I know Sarah would like a call from you. She has questions about getting Secret Service involved. She sounded a bit…frazzled, so I offered to call you first.”
“Damn it, I can’t tell you how disappointed I am to hear that Jeremiah’s left school. But what does Sarah think the Service could do?”
“I’m not sure, Dad. All I know is she’s worried that Jeremiah will take off after Ryan and get into trouble. She figures that because you’re a senator and chairman of intelligence, the Service will protect family members if you request it. She’s just not thinking clearly. A call from you will really help.”
“Okay, I get the picture. This isn’t as bad as I thought. I understand she’s upset. I’ll give her a call. Is she at home?”
“Yes, we just spoke about ten minutes ago,” Sela replied.
“Well, keep in touch, sweetheart. How are you doing…everything going well with you? Have you found a gentleman yet?” he asked, hoping for good news about his biggest concern for his oldest daughter. He believed she worked too hard and was squandering the prime of her life. He wished she would marry, and even though it was well past when she might start a family, he still didn’t like the thought of her being a spinster.
“Now’s not the time, Dad,” Sela said, frustrated there was never any respite from her father’s obsession with her social life. “Call Sarah…she needs your encouragement. Let her know what resources might be available. She’s looking for options. I’m planning to speak with Jer as soon as he’s back in Bernalillo. I’ll make sure he stays with his mom. I gotta go, Dad. I love you…and please tell me if you hear anything new.”
“Okay, I’ll call her right now. Keep in touch,” he said, busily looking for Sarah’s number in the top drawer of his desk.
Without a moment’s hesitation, he dialed Sarah’s number in Bernalillo. Divergent thoughts raced through his
