Ultimate Sanction Page 13

  She drank half the scotch left in her first glass before the second came. “They didn’t lie for him, they didn’t even fucking defend him, Mac. What he doesn’t know is that there was a drone over the site. The footage from that cleared him because it captured the hanging and captured the guns the women did hold. If they weren’t so bent on killing those boys they’d have fired on the patrol.”

  A strange sensation of relief swept through me. “So he’s innocent?”

  She looked at me. “He didn’t murder them in cold blood if that’s what you’re asking, but innocent? None of us are innocent, Mac. We’ve all killed people we shouldn’t have done for reasons beyond those strictly necessary.”

  “Yeah,” I said and sipped my whisky.

  “And as for you,” she said into the silence between us, “I will have Lydia and a friend of hers dig through your cloud accounts. If there is anything left of your proof, I want it first and I want to use it, then I might be able to give you back the life you want.”

  “Why would you do that?” I asked.

  She blinked her large brown eyes at me. “I would do it, Mac, because good and honest men are hard to find. You happen to be both despite the odds. I also want the fuckers who owned Clark. He was just a worm on a hook thinking he was a hawk. I want the fucking eagle. They have no right to use my people or use our Regiment for their dirty work.”

  “Thank you, but I don’t want to go back,” I said.

  A careful study of me came next and I watched her smile. “You’ve changed.”

  I nodded. “I’ve found peace here and if I can convince Jacob to leave, I want him with me. We can’t stay here, I know that, the DRC isn’t safe for…” here we go with the first time admitting it to the outside world, “for gay men.” Phew, no one died, and I didn’t get struck down by lightning. Elation buzzed in my brain along with the scotch.

  I refocused on the conversation at hand. “Jacob’s not safe, Colonel. I’m not even sure he has all the marbles he needs in the bag. I think a few are running around in the wild somewhere in his head.”

  She snorted and laughed. “That seems about right. I can see he’s on the edge, Mac. You’ll keep him straight until I can let you both go. We’ve a job to do. We have to get the scientist back and her research. If her knowledge falls into the wrong hands it could do more damage than a nuke. Did you know they are currently immunising children against malaria? It kills more people than any other disease, but it’s a disease of Africa so no one bothered with it for decades, just like HIV. But now we have a new weapon in our arsenal, a plague carrying bug which breeds and travels like wildfire. As if the world isn’t fucked enough.”

  I sympathised with the woman’s frustration. We were just sticking plasters on the wounds inflicted by scientists and politicians, but I also needed to keep Jacob safe. “Colonel, maybe another team –”

  “No. No time. Jacob can hold it together until you find Begum and bring her in, that’s your job. I’m serious, Mac.”

  I studied her and had the feeling she saw far more than I did, which unnerved me, but I was a good soldier. “Yes, ma’am.” I slugged back the scotch, nodded to her and left the bar. The sudden wash of exhaustion made it hard work to reach my room but when I saw Jacob, sprawled over the bed where I’d left him, I smiled.

  “I’m going to protect you, sweet boy, whether you like it or not and we are going to build a life somewhere safe where we can be at peace,” I whispered to him, making the promise with more than just words. In my soul I knew my goal had to be preserving what was left of Jacob.

  I undressed and climbed into the large bed. The instant I relaxed Jacob mumbled something in his sleep, rolled over me and snuggled. The weight of him on my chest, the soft warm breath on my neck and the rough hair of his leg slung over mine, stirred every instinct inside me. Even sliding into sleep at last, I could think of nothing but Jacob’s weight always pinning me into the world.

  We made it to breakfast for 08:00 but only just. It turns out showering together doesn’t mean we were able to save time. The light of the morning, coming through the large windows of the expensive hotel, made Jacob glitter. His smile brightened the room, the dance in his eyes looked brighter than the sun and the grace of his movements flowed as if possessed of crystal-clear water.

  The women were already at a large table in the corner of the room. Miri looked a good deal calmer and when we approached Lydia laughed at us because we weren’t quite holding hands, but the joy of our union must be infectious.

  “You look better,” she said.

  “Thanks,” we both murmured, placing our food on the table. Buffet breakfasts were a godsend to men like us; we could stuff our faces.

  I glanced at Miri, who sat flanked by the other women, and she raised a smile. I returned it and her shoulders relaxed just a little more.

  “Right, I think it’s time our Regiment boy comes clean about what he knows is happening here,” Brant said.

  Jacob’s light snuffed out. My eyes widened in shock. He became still, the dance gone, and the poise of a savage predator woke within him. I wanted to reach out and touch his hand, to bring the light back, or at least a little of it.

  “You’re right. I haven’t given everything but after what Mac said last night about why he was bumped from the Regiment I think I’m beginning to see the necessity of trusting someone else.” He pushed some scrambled eggs around on his plate before glancing at Miri. “Are we sure we want the CIA to hear about this?” he asked the table.

  “Miri has agreed to be discreet providing we take Delta off the table,” Brant said.

  Jacob nodded. “Clark brought the details of the kidnapping of Dilras Begum and the deaths of her team, to the Regiment’s attention. The Head Shed sought permission for a small insertion into the DRC to retrieve the scientist and her research or destroy it. We come in, find her and slip out, no one the wiser and no need to inform the government that we were engaging or making a deal with terrorists.”

  Brant’s mouth hardened. “They had no right to sanction such a move, not with you boys. That’s what Unit 12 is for.”

  Jacob grunted. “I know, but, ma’am, I understand now why you weren’t called in.” He paused to organise his thoughts. “The trouble began the moment we had boots in-country. Clark went AWOL for 48 hours and when he did resurface, he had a wealth of information we’d been lacking – just like that he seemed to know everything we needed to get the mission completed. But he wanted us to sit on it, in Kinshasa, until such time as we could meet with Delta. It was Clark’s idea to present as Room 39 but I’m beginning to see things more clearly. He wanted control over the negotiations.”

  “You think Clark is working for Room 39?” Lydia asked.

  “I can’t think of any other organisation who could have caused such devastation to my team,” Jacob whispered. “No one but Clark knew we were there, and we know Clark wasn’t in the building. I think Room 39 are pulling the strings, but we don’t know the words to the fucking song they are playing. Delta didn’t seem surprised when I mentioned the North Koreans last night. He also didn’t seem overly surprised it wasn’t a Korean doing the asking. I think…” the pause stretched until I touched his hand. Jacob nodded just once and continued, “I think the North Koreans are using Room 39 and its allies in the world to find people who can help with their weapons programme. While we are all busy looking at the ballistic missiles, they launch into the sea we aren’t looking at the people they are gathering, scientists, computer geeks, even marketing experts –”

  “Marketing experts?” I asked, confused. Since when were marketing people interesting?

  Jacob chuckled, a dark sound. “Mac, you are a great soldier but a dinosaur when it comes to the information age.”

  I frowned not understanding but Lydia did. “Shit, you think they are either employing or stealing people who can manipulate data points about entire on-line populations.”

  “I don’t think, Sergeant, I know. It was something Cl
ark said just before we left for the first part of the oppo. ‘Information is the key to everything, Hayes, I need all the information we can gather then we control the world’. I didn’t understand at the time, just thought it was hyperbolic bullshit but Clark kept all this information in his head, he understood the importance of it and it makes perfect sense. Why bother just building bombs when you can control who sits on the throne of any country you target?”

  Now I understood. Data mining, the new coal, the new oil, the undiscovered country with wealth just under the surface if you can find a way to tap into it. The scientist we needed to retrieve might be able to help the North Koreans or anyone else, weaponise a virus but data was just as important.

  “Okay,” I said, “we know it’s bad, but we still need to find this poor woman and get her back from Boko Haram. That has to be our priority. Then the colonel can work on controlling Room 39 and its access to the world’s data.”

  Brant nodded. “One step at a time, eh, Sergeant Macalister?”

  “It’s the only way, Colonel.”

  Miri spoke up. “I can get back into the general’s company. I can find out where Boko Haram are holding the woman.”

  “No,” Brant and Lydia said.

  “It would be easier –”

  “No,” Brant repeated. “We aren’t putting you back in there, Miri. I need you as back-up. The boys can deal with the general.” She looked at us.

  Jacob huffed. “Yep. If we can get to him, we can take him down and find our scientist.”

  I drew in a sharp breath. “Take down Delta in his own country? If we want to slot him that’s one thing but we need him to help find this woman.”

  “Chinese parliament time people,” Brant said. “Let’s find a way to make this happen.”

  We all huddled around the table a little more and began planning. Brant always was an unusual CO, she liked her people to give their ideas, talk through the problems we faced. With all the years of experience and our different levels of expertise, she knew a level of trust from her would push us to reach the best possible results. By the time the waiting staff began clearing away breakfast we had something like a workable plan.

  We would return to Delta’s lair and simply go through the process necessary to reach Boko Haram’s people through the mysterious intermediary they used. Jacob and I would need a sweetener, which meant an arms cache, and we’d need money. Lydia said she could organise both and Brant didn’t press on the details. I wondered and almost asked until Brant gave me a warning look to keep my mouth shut. Lydia vanished for a bit to make a call and when she returned the colour in her cheeks was high, but she had an address for us.

  Jacob and I returned to our room and picked up the few items we’d left lying around.

  “How you feeling?” I asked him.

  He shrugged. “Fine.”

  “Jacob?” I asked again, pulling him around to face me. “I need to know how you feel, it’s important.”

  His eyes didn’t quite meet mine. “Listen, Mac, I know I lost my shit last night and I’m sorry to have put you in that position –”

  I yanked on his arm and forced him to press into my body. My mouth sought out his ear, “Listen to me. What happened last night will happen again, and again, until you find some measure of peace. I wish we had time to talk about it in detail, but it wasn’t your fault. Your team didn’t lie for you, there were no charges because there was nothing to charge you with. We will talk about this more, later, but right now I need you in the game and I need you to be honest with me.”

  He shivered against me, lips pressing against my collarbone. “Brant knows?”

  “She does, all she’s worried about is your ability to see this through without getting anyone in the team dead because you’re vulnerable,” I said, holding his hips. We were curling around each other, touching in ways I’d never done with another person, an intimate carrying of another soul.

  His fingers dug into my hips hard enough to hurt. “I can face Delta. I can be Room 39’s lackey. I can make this happen but only if you have my six.”

  “Always, love.” The endearment slipped out without thought. Jacob pulled back and my cheeks turned hot, but I couldn’t deny I’d said it, so I just looked at him and waited for a reaction. I didn’t expect the soft smile, the tender touch to my jaw with fingertips, or his warm brown eyes searching my face.

  “Then, my love, I can do anything,” he said. A soft kiss sealed the deal. “I’m looking forwards to a future with you.”

  The colour in my face must have deepened further, if I grew any hotter my skin would peel off, could someone die from blushing? “Good,” I managed with a gruffness that made him laugh.

  When we joined the others in the lobby, the quivering strange essence of my new world still held me captive. The soft word, just four letters long, had hit my eardrum as a wave, my brain turned it into neurons so I could understand its meaning, but it caused so many other things to happen simultaneously. My nerves were plucked by the magic of a world-class harpist, while also being stroked by the softest of feathers. Light brushed my skin with a warmth I’d never experienced before and the scent of the roses in the room filled my heart up just as much as the oxygen when I tried to breathe. My entire being became something new, in an instant, as it had when Jacob kissed me that first night. Twice now I’d been remoulded by him, taken as a lump of formless clay no one could love or want, and turned into something else, something magical and beautiful.

  Is this why people wanted to fall in love? The sensation felt like falling down and up at the same time. I ached in places I didn’t know existed until now and the urge to touch Jacob all the time forced me to stuff my hands into my pockets. I just wanted to inhale his scent and stroke his skin.

  “Come on,” he said, shaking me awake from my stupor.

  16

  Lydia leaned forwards from the back seat of the truck. “The guns we need are in there,” she said pointing.

  “That’s a government warehouse,” I said from the driver’s seat.

  Jacob shrugged. “Doesn’t matter, if Lydia says there’s no security to worry about then let’s go get them.”

  I swivelled enough to take in all four of the passengers. Brant looked amused, Miri seemed lost to the world for the moment and Lydia just smiled at me like all this was perfectly normal. “You want me to steal arms from the government I’m currently working for? And how exactly do you know what is or isn’t in there and what the security is like?”

  “You sure you want to know ‘exactly’?” she asked.

  “Oh, for fuck’s sake, let’s just get on with it,” Jacob muttered, pushing open the door to the truck. I grabbed his arm to prevent him leaving.

  We were sat outside another warehouse in another district of the immense city. Kinshasa covered a vast area and I knew the government had stores like this scattered about, but their locations were secret, and they were heavily guarded. The last thing the DRC needed were more arms flooding the country, forced into the hands of children more often than not.

  “I just, I don’t trust this,” I said.

  Jacob relaxed back into the truck. “Explain.” As usual he had faith in my instincts. They were honed from years of experience and a sharp mind. Brant also relaxed, waiting me out.

  “Places like these aren’t ignored or forgotten, even here in the DRC. There should be a full security cordon. If there isn’t there’s a reason and if we don’t know the reason we’re walking in blind.”

  Lydia didn’t look happy. “My intel is good and trustworthy.”

  “Why are there no guards?” I asked her point blank.

  She shifted in her seat and scowled at me. “They have something else they need to be doing right now, do you want the guns or not?”

  I glanced at Brant, she shrugged. “We need them.”

  “Good,” Jacob muttered, and he climbed out of the car. With a curse on my lips I followed him, and we crossed the quiet road together. The gates were locked
but most operatives know how to pick a lock, it comes with the territory of covert ops, so it only took Jacob a moment to gain access. My Glock maintained its reassuring weight in my hand while I scanned the street.

  “Brant’s driving through,” I said.

  Jacob opened the gate wide enough for the truck, and I stepped in to help close everything up. We both jumped onto the back of the vehicle as Brant drove around a corner, hiding us from view.

  We were outside the warehouse’s doors and at some point, guards had been there because I saw cigarette butts everywhere and two small sheds for the men to sit in while on duty. Both were empty. I wondered what emergency they’d been called to and I hoped it wasn’t at the museum.

  Lydia took something out of her day-sack and attached wire from the console in her hand to the locking system on the door. Within a few seconds a beep and click occurred. She opened the door and Jacob followed her with his weapon raised. I held the rear position until Brant and Miri, also armed with handguns, walked through the small entrance.

  “Holy shit,” Jacob muttered. “This place is insane.”

  We all stopped and stared. The warehouse looked to be as long as a football field and probably wider. It contained hundreds, if not thousands of wooden crates, all stacked neatly, some in a shelving system, some too large for that and so were just stacked on top of each other. Each aisle had a letter at the top, big and bold, each section was numbered. An office huddled in the corner of the warehouse, along with a kitchen.

  “No fingerprints, children,” Brant said. “Sergeant Greenbrook, go find the computer and get us into their systems, I want a list of what’s here. Miri go with her. Gentlemen, don’t open anything until we know what we are dealing with.”

  “Yes, ma’am,” we said, still gawping at the vast collection in front of us.

  “If this is guarded by just two men or maybe a few more, and it holds all this…” Jacob didn’t finish the thought.

  “Maybe it’s been taken from the rebel groups,” I said. “You know, before they are destroyed. The government runs arms amnesties from time to time. The DRC also took a lot of arms from Rwanda after the war.”