Rain drummed the broken concrete and poured into the gutters. The streets flooded quickly because Sanliurfa wasn’t designed to handle this amount of precipitation. A cargo truck sped by, and its tires whistled wetly as they plowed through standing water.
Private Malone talked quickly into his headset, identifying Goose and letting the security detail know Goose wanted to see the captain. A moment later, the security teams inside the building cleared Goose.
After he entered the door, a two-man security team met Goose. They flanked him without talking as he headed for the stairwell to the left that led to the underground basement where the command post nerve center was set up.
As he glanced around the open area of the office building’s main lobby, Goose saw that security in all the areas had been stepped up. All the security personnel were Rangers. No one had notified him that security for the ops center was being bumped up.
He took the stairwell down, wishing he’d taken the elevator, but he was too proud to favor his injured knee like that. He gritted his teeth against the throbbing pain and kept the knee in motion.
The office building was one of the newest constructions. It had leased space to companies and corporations all over the world. Those companies and corporations had been some of the first to evacuate Sanliurfa after the first wave of SCUDs.
The basement area had been designed to withstand terrorist attacks and even operate cut off from the rest of the city for a time. Auxiliary generators kept the power on to the belowground offices even in times of power outages.
Goose and the privates’ footsteps echoed in the hallway as he followed the familiar path to the command post’s nerve center. When he entered the room, Goose was surprised at the amount of activity. Evidently Remington had called all three shifts in.
The large room was darkened except for the pale, glowing light of dozens of computer screens on desks as well as on walls. As Goose’s gaze swept the monitors, he noted instantly that many of the op techs were watching satellite pictures of the area around and north of the Turkish-Syrian border. Ordnance tape held thick, fat serpents’ coils of cables together and fastened to the tiled floor.
“When did we get satellite access back?” Goose asked.
“I’m sorry, First Sergeant,” one of the two privates accompanying Goose replied, “but we’re not at liberty to discuss anything happening here at this time. Captain’s orders. We’re on a communications blackout with the rest of the military. Our guys as well. Everything in this area operates on a need-to-know basis. So far, you’re not cleared for that knowledge.”
So we’ve got satellite access and we’re not telling the U.N. Peacekeeping force’s commanding officer or Colonel Mkchian of the Turkish army, Goose thought, and immediately felt uneasy. When those two men discovered that Remington had somehow gotten access to a satellite array, Goose knew the relationships among the three military teams were going to be strained. The strategy wasn’t the wisest in the present situation because the secret could divide loyalties, but Goose knew Remington had chosen to play it that way because the captain kept total control. Remington worked to keep control of everything he was involved with.
The Ranger captain stood at the back of the room in front of a huge wall screen. When Remington’s cybernetic ops teams had first hit Sanliurfa, they’d made the rounds among the computer stores and shops and salvaged every bit of equipment they could, adding to what they already carried and replacing what they’d had to abandon at the border. In hours, they’d cobbled together a nerve center that looked like it could have managed space-shuttle launches.
Remington was talking to a man in civilian clothes. At first Goose thought the man might be one of Cody’s CIA operatives. Goose’s stomach clenched, and his mind filled with questions as he considered the possibility that Remington was working with the CIA. That might explain the satellite access. Goose couldn’t help wondering if the CIA had finally caught up to Icarus and if the rogue agent had told Cody and his people that he had told Goose everything.
When the man turned to face Goose, the first sergeant saw something predatory in the man’s gaze. Even standing there in Kevlar with his assault rifle and sidearm, Goose felt more vulnerable than he had on the battlefield. The man was tall and bald and broad. A mustache and goatee marked his Middle Eastern features. But his clothing was expensive, a European suit that hadn’t come off the rack. A dangling earring in the shape of an upside-down pointed star hung from his left ear.
The man smiled at Goose, but there was nothing friendly about the expression. The first sergeant almost felt like he’d been threatened.
“Captain,” one of the privates said just before they came to a stop a few feet from Remington. “First Sergeant Gander reporting, sir.”
Reading the situation, Goose remained at attention. He watched as the scenes shifted on a rotating basis every few seconds. The big screen was divided into eight sections, all of them showing Syrian armor and troop movements.
“At ease, First Sergeant,” Remington said.
“Yes, sir,” Goose responded. “Thank you, sir.”
The two privates took three steps back, but never left Goose unattended.
“What brings you here, First Sergeant?” Remington asked.
“The rain, sir.” Goose felt foolish as soon as he gave the answer. He’d wanted to say more, but his instant read of the captain’s mood had shut down his enthusiasm. Also, the guilt for having talked to Icarus behind the captain’s back and telling Baker about it came fullblown to the surface.
“You came here to tell me it’s raining?” Remington waved a hand toward the computer screens. “I know it’s raining, First Sergeant. I can tell you all of the immediate vicinities where it is raining. In just a few seconds, I can tell you where it is not raining.”
Goose tried to ignore the biting sarcasm embedded
