Splinter Cell

Two warning alarms went off at once. The fighters had launched two AIM-9X Sidewinders.

Evasive action! Evasive action! Mazur struggled to keep calm and remember what he was supposed to do in an emergency, but the alarms were too loud. He couldn’t concentrate. Panic overtook him as he forced the plane into a dive, hoping he could outmaneuver the missiles and lure them into the lake. The Su-47 dipped dangerously low, maybe 1,000 feet from the surface, before Mazur pulled up and leveled out. The Sidewinders attempted to correct their trajectories but failed. They hit the lake like meteors, exploding on contact. Two massive geyser-like splashes filled the sky, but ultimately produced no harm on the fighters’ enemy.

Mazur ascended once again. Now it was simply a matter of outrunning the fighters. Before he could throttle the engines and shoot forward, the warning alarms sounded again. This time two more AIM-9Xs sliced through the air on a collision course with the plane. Mazur swerved and managed to dodge the first missile, but in doing so, he flew right in line with the second.

Unfortunately for Mazur, the Su-47 was a work-in-progress prototype and the heat exhaust suppression had not yet been perfected. A stealth plane with such a capability could have fooled a heat-seeking missile. The new AIM- 9X, however, expanded the capabilities of older AIM-9 models by developing a new seeker imaging infrared focal plane array, a high performance airframe, and a new signal processor for the seeker/sensor. The Su-47 was a goner.

The impact jolted Mazur hard and he heard the explosion deep within his inner ears. He felt the aircraft drop in altitude dramatically, and the sky outside his windscreen was a blur. Warning alarms shrieked and lights flashed all around him, telling him that the plane was a goner.

Eject! Must eject! Mazur blindly grappled for the controls, unlocked the release switch, and pushed the eject button.

Nothing happened.

He struggled with the mechanism, cursing and crying. Was it a malfunction? Surely it couldn’t be… sabotage?

Mazur didn’t realize another Sidewinder was launched at the aircraft as it dived recklessly toward Lake Van. In one gigantic powerhouse of impact, the Su-47 and its pilot became a hundred thousand burning particles that flittered slowly down to the water.

* * *

Tarighian had been away from his office for the last three hours, overseeing the installation of some replacement parts in the Phoenix. Albert Mertens had tested the targeting system that morning and found the weapon’s accuracy was off by 6 degrees. That was unacceptable. Mertens swore he could correct the problem in six hours. When Tarighian entered his private office where he could fret and curse alone, he meant to try and relax. It had been a stressful week. He had a bad feeling about Mertens and didn’t look forward to making good on the threat he had made. Tarighian had decided that the best thing would be to eliminate Mertens after the Phoenix had performed its function.

He sat at his desk and looked at his computer screen. An icon indicated that he had a dozen unread e-mails since yesterday. He checked the in-box and saw that the messages were mostly from his various committee heads. Not many other people knew his e-mail address.

One e-mail stood out, however. It was from “A Friend.” Tarighian opened it, expecting a piece of spam advertising how to get a bigger penis or the latest deal in obtaining prescription drugs. What he saw instead took his mind off his worries about the Phoenix. A conversation he would find “interesting”? What could that possible be? He opened the attached file and listened to the recording. He immediately recognized the voice as belonging to Andrei Zdrok.

“General, where the hell are you? I see. Where’s the plane? Yes, our plane, what did you think I—? Yes. I see. Listen, this is what I want you to do. I want to order an air strike on Akdabar Enterprises in Van, Turkey. Yes, I know what I’m doing. I have proof that the Shadows are double-crossing us. They never sent that money and have no intention to do so. And I know now they are responsible for what happened at the hangar in Baku. Yes. I just sent you an e-mail, did you get it? Well, check it, damn it! I’ll wait.”

There was a pause, after which the voice continued. “I’m still here. You have it? Listen to the file. I’ll wait.” Another pause and a cough. Then—“Well? You see? No, no, I just want to — General, this is not negotiable. These are my orders. Send the plane to Turkey and bomb the shit out of that facility. I want it done today. Right. Keep me informed. Thank you, General.”

Tarighian felt as if his blood was boiling. Just to be certain that he wasn’t dreaming, he played the file again.

As if on cue, the phone rang. He heard his voice shake when he spoke and he couldn’t help it.

“Hello.”

“It’s me.” Nadir Omar, his Military Committee head.

“Nadir, I’m so glad you called. I just had the strangest—”

“Are you sitting down?” Omar normally never interrupted Tarighian.

“Yes.”

“Akdabar Enterprises has been destroyed.”

Omar’s words were worse than the recorded conversation. Tarighian felt the blood rush from his head.

“Are you there?” Omar asked.

Tarighian cleared his throat. “Yes.”

“Did you hear what I said?”

“Yes. I… I know. I just heard about it.”

“We don’t know who did it. Or why. But the Turkish Air Force—”

“It was the Shop, Nadir. I have proof.”

“What?”

“The Shop. They did it.”

“No. I don’t believe it.”

Tarighian created a new e-mail, addressed it to Omar, attached the conversation file, and clicked Send. “I just sent you an e-mail. Listen to the attachment. Then forward it to the rest of the committees. I… I’m hanging up now. I need a few minutes to myself.”

“What are we going to do?”

“Talk to me later.” Tarighian hung up the phone and sat in his chair, stunned.

Twenty years of his life… up in smoke. The lives of his employees — how many were lost? It was too early to tell. Millions upon millions of dollars’ worth of equipment and goods — gone in an instant.

Tarighian clenched his fists and cursed.

The Shop had done it. Zdrok had made good on his threats. The filthy Russian had started a war with his most influential customer. The Shadows would make him pay. For the sake of Allah and the future of Islam, the Shop would pay for this.

Tarighian was perfectly willing to use the Phoenix to exact revenge. The problem was that he had no idea where to aim. The Shop had many bases. He knew about the one in Baku, of course, and he knew that Zdrok owned a bank in Zurich. But how could he possibly damage the Shop with such a big weapon? It would be like hitting a tiny ant with a ten-ton weight. He had to think of something else.

Get hold of yourself! Think rationally!

Tarighian knew he had a job to do. He had to stay focused. Stay the course. Complete the goal that was originally set and then go after the Shop. No matter how traitorous the Shop had been, the true enemy was still the West. The Puppet Iraq and its overseer, the United States, must fall. The Shop could wait. They were peanuts. He wasn’t about to waste the Phoenix on the Shop.

There was one problem, though. The Turkish authorities would wonder why Akdabar Enterprises had been destroyed. They would investigate possible motives for such an attack and look more closely into Namik Basaran’s background. His true identity could be uncovered. The intelligence forces of the entire world would then focus on Basaran, aka Tarighian, and eventually trace him to Northern Cyprus.

For the sake of Allah, they had to hurry! The United Nations could come sweeping down on them within hours.

He picked up the intercom and punched in the code for Mertens. When the physicist answered, Tarighian said, “The Phoenix will rise in twelve hours. Sooner if possible. That’s an order. Make it happen or you will face a