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 Sao 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.”
“I understand, sir.”
“I don’t think you do, or if you do I haven’t changed your mind,” Chamberlain said with a slight bit of sardonic humor in his voice, “so I’ll say it one more time: I strongly suggest you bring your team back to the States ASAP. Let the FBI, CIA, and INTERPOL handle GAMMA, Ruiz, and Khalimov. You received the information I sent on Khalimov and Zakharov?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Then you should know, Sergeant Major, in case you haven’t figured it out, that you’re playing with some very, very bad dudes out there, and I don’t believe you’re equipped right now to handle them,” Chamberlain went on, his voice showing astonishment at Jefferson’s lack of reaction. “We’re not sure what Zakharov’s game is—he’s pretending to be a big supporter of GAMMA but we think he’s got another agenda. But there’s no doubt at all about Captain Pavel Khalimov: he’s a trained military and government assassin, linked to hundreds of killings around the world over the past eighteen years for the KGB in the Soviet years, for the Russian Internal Security Service, and lately as an assassin for hire. If he’s got PME troops on his payroll, he’ll be unstoppable.”
“I understand, sir,” Jefferson repeated, “but again, the opportunity to grab the head of this terror group and find out exactly who was responsible for Kingman City is paramount. We have to try.”
“I could order you not to do it.”
“Yes, sir, you could,” Jefferson said. “I believe Kristen Skyy would still demand to go.”
“You could force her to stay.”
“Yes, sir, I believe I could, and I believe her flight and production crews would not fight me on this,” Jefferson said. “But then Jorge Ruiz would probably be killed….”
“You told me you think he’s dead already.”
“We don’t know for sure, sir,” Jefferson said. “It’s only logical to think that Pereira would be a secondary target and Ruiz the primary, but perhaps Khalimov went after Pereira first in Sao Paulo because he’s the harder target and more of a threat to Zakharov. I don’t know. But Abaete was on the way, we’re here, and I think we should proceed.”
“Kristen Skyy won’t be able to save Ruiz even if he is alive.”
“But if I and a few PME troops go along with her, sir, we might get lucky.”
“It’s too risky. We have all the intel we need, Sergeant Major. We don’t need Ruiz…”
“Yes, sir, but it would sure be helpful if we had him,” Jefferson said. “I have no intention of letting this get out of hand, Mr. Chamberlain. We’ll be careful, sir.”
There was a very long pause on the line; then, in a very reluctant voice, Chamberlain said, “I don’t like it, Sergeant Major, but I agree that this is an opportunity we can’t pass up to get the guy who masterminded the attack on Kingman City. I’ll advise the President of what you intend to do and try my best to sell him on the idea. If there’s anyone who can take on the likes of someone like Pavel Khalimov, it’s you.”
“Thank you, sir,” he responded, but the connection was broken before he got all of the words out. He closed the flip and rubbed his eyes wearily. “Major Richter.”
“Yes, sir?” Richter replied. He and Ariadna Vega were both leaning inside the CID unit with tools and flashlights; an electronic diagnostic device was attached to an access panel, with several rows of readouts flashing red numerals. Their jet was parked by itself on an isolated part of Abaete Regional Airport’s parking ramp, about three hundred meters from the terminal building. A blue plastic tarp was slung over the rear fuselage near the open baggage compartment to hide the CID unit from observation, but this section of the ramp was pretty deserted. The PME officer traveling with them had spoken to the local PME patrols, and together they were keeping everyone away. One local PME soldier roamed around the aircraft itself, while two more in a U.S. military surplus Jeep patrolled the ramp area, chasing away curious onlookers.
“Any progress?”
“A little,” Jason replied. “We’ve replaced the hydraulic power pack, but seawater has damaged a lot of other circuitry so we can’t test it yet. We have no idea how long it will take to get it dried out and going again. Maybe not until we get it back to Fort Polk.” Ari looked at Jason with serious concern all over her face.
“Well, you gave it a try, Major, Dr. Vega,” Jefferson said. “Mr. Chamberlain is still advising us to return to the States.”
“Just ‘advising’ us? Sir, he’s not ordering us to return now?”
“He was on board Air Force One before and was reacting to the news of us being in Brazil,” Jefferson explained. “Now that he understands we’re on the trail of the organization that might have been responsible for Kingman City, he’s backed off.” Jason nodded; Ari’s concerned expression only darkened. “So it’s up to us. He has not gotten us any official government support—he says most of the White House still wants us in prison.”
“But he’s not ordering us to return anymore,” Jason observed. “It sounds like he’s secretly urging us to press on, sir.”
“That would be my guess as well, Major,” Jefferson said. “However, Chamberlain maintains that without the CID unit, we could be in real trouble without backup. I agree with him: it’s too dangerous. We should leave it to the PME, State Department, and CIA to get those guys.”
“It may be dangerous, Sergeant Major, but you’re not making the decisions here,” Kristen Skyy said. She and her crew had been unloading her equipment into an old panel van she procured from the airport manager with a lot
