Looking back at the screen, Remington saw that explosions had started deep within the underground storage area where the fuel was. The explosions—roiling blue and orange on the screen—grew exponentially as the fuel reserves blew and gathered force. A lot of the fuel in the underground caverns was high-grade air gas for the planes and helos.
More explosions took place out in the Syrian armored cav. Remington was impressed. The raid was going much better and had gone much further than he would have thought.
“Alpha Prime, Bravo Prime,” Remington barked.
Both lieutenants radioed back that they had heard him.
On-screen, red and yellow thermographic figures that had to be Lieutenant Matthew York’s Bravo Detail scrambled for the Syrian airfield, where the Mi-8 helos sat under a canopy.
“Your missions are accomplished,” Remington said. “Get your teams out of there.”
“Alpha Leader is still in the building, Base,” Keller responded. “We can’t leave him.”
“Negative, Alpha Prime. Leader will make it out under his own steam.”
“Base, he’s got women with him.”
“I understand and appreciate that, Alpha Prime, but I have sixty Rangers in a hostile twenty that’s about to go critical.” Remington moved down the line of screens, looking at another screen that showed the main Syrian army encampment. On the screen, green icons that resembled helicopters were lifting off and flying west toward the reserve fuel depot.
“Alpha and Bravo Prime, be advised that a major contingent of Syrian gunships are now en route to your twenty,” Remington said. “Bottom line, gentlemen: I want my Rangers out of there this instant.” “Affirmative, Base.”
“Fascinating,” Felix said. “You’re leaving your friend trapped in that building against hostile guns?”
“He knew the risks when he took this assignment,” Remington said.
“You gave him that assignment. You knew what he would do.” Felix took a deep breath. “You knew those women were there.”
Remington nodded. “Abu Alam had a side business. White slavery. He’d kidnapped at least a dozen women out of Sanliurfa after the SCUD attack and the vanishings. He traded some of them to the Syrians, who in turn were going to sell them to warlords in their country and this country in exchange for treaties.”
“They’re annexing criminal tribes in this area to use against the Turkish people?”
“Yes.” Remington glanced at the screen. “If I could get that done, buy extra soldiers, supply routes, or just negotiate neutral treaties to allow passage of men and equipment through potentially hostile territory, I’d do it too. The Syrians are here to grab as much land as they can. The more they have before a cease-fire is worked out, the more they get to keep.”
“I’m really beginning to understand what Nicolae sees in you,” Felix said.
Remington listened to the headset for a moment, understanding at once that Alpha and Bravo were leaving the area.
“So why do you set your friend up to die?” Felix asked.
Remington kept his heart cold as stone. Goose had to go. That had become plain after talking with CIA Section Chief Alexander Cody and finding out about the attack on the CIA communications base.
Goose had betrayed him. Although the two CIA men hadn’t been able to identify Goose, Remington was convinced it couldn’t have been anyone else. Furthermore, Corporal Baker’s tent church continued to be a threat to his command, building a tension in his troops to potentially choose between him and God. And Cal Remington didn’t intend to take second place. Not even to God.
Goose’s betrayal cut deeply into Remington. Some of it had started when Goose had chosen to marry Megan Holder, to put his family before their friendship. That was why Remington hadn’t stood in as best man and why he’d kept his distance from Goose’s family. Goose choosing Bill Townsend, a corporal and a God chaser, had been another slap in the face.
Remington wasn’t about to have his command split because Goose could no longer toe the line and stay with the program. Having a first sergeant who could work independently was a good thing, but having an independent-minded one could also seriously jeopardize chain of command.
“I didn’t set Goose up to die,” Remington said. “He set himself up. I just helped him negotiate the time and place.”
Felix chuckled. “You sold your friend out.”
“I did,” Remington said, “but I didn’t sell him out cheap.” He walked to another set of screens. He pointed at a cluster of airplane icons. “Do you know what that is?”
“No.”
“That’s most of the aircraft that I control. They took off ten minutes ago. Do you know where they’re going to be in five minutes?”
“Tell me.”
“Bombing the main Syrian line,” Remington said. “If you’d watched the screen, you’d have seen that the Syrians scrambled most of their available air units to cover the attack at their hidden fuel depot. By the time they get there, it’s going to be too late to save anything. The only thing the depot had going for it was secrecy.”
“Which Abu Alam betrayed?”
Remington nodded.
“But the Syrians want their pound of flesh?”
“Yeah,” Remington said. “Their mistake. And I’m going to capitalize on it in—” he glanced at his watch—“three minutes, when my air division lights up their whole world.”
“You used your friend and those Rangers as bait.”
“Expensive bait,” Remington said. “There was no guarantee the Syrians would go for it.”
“But they did. And now you have lost your friend.”
Remington looked at Goose’s thermographic image locked in battle on the screen. “I lost my friend a long time ago. He’s just been a memory walking around taking up time and space. It’s time he was put to rest.” He paused. “And he should thank me. He’s not just a casualty. After all the media attention he’s been getting, he’s going to be a martyr.”
“Yes,” Felix said. “I’m sure if he had the opportunity, he’d thank you.”
17
Church of the Word
Marbury, Alabama
Local Time 1435 Hours
More than a thousand had crowded into the church by the time Delroy stepped to the pulpit. The little church
