The Lazarus Moment (31 page)

A river
that had saved their lives.

Twice.

Colonel Lacroix
had managed to land them on it, the only reason any of them had survived, then
they had used it as the great equalizer in their final battle with the rebels.

And
still it remained hidden away.

How
the hell did he ever see it?

One of
the flight crew slapped him on the arm, pointing to his headset. “Signal from
the carrier! The President and his family are secure!”

Dawson
nodded and closed his eyes, a slight smile on his face. They had been through
hell, all of them, but it was over. He opened his eyes and glanced over at
Spock, talking animatedly with Niner about something, the chopper too loud for
the conversation to be heard.

Thank
God we didn’t lose him.

He would
have hated to deliver the news to the family. It wasn’t his job, it the
Colonel’s, though he always made it a point to see the family when a man was
lost. It was devastating, every time, and it was the one duty he hated more
than any other, especially the lies. The families could never know the truth
about how their loved ones died, and unless it was a spouse, they usually never
knew what their loved ones actually did. Every man in this chopper, Delta and
SEAL, were heroes, willing to die for their country and their fellow man. They
did it out of a sense of duty and honor, not for money or medals. If these men
wanted money, they could leave the service tomorrow, join any number of private
companies, and get paid six figures, their expertise in high demand.

But that
would be almost like abandoning your post, leaving your friends to fend for
themselves.

He’d
never do it. As long as he had a fighting breath in him, and the Army would let
him do what he loved, he’d remain a soldier. Eventually they’d force him out of
active duty and at that point, he’d train the next generation. It was in his
blood and he couldn’t imagine life outside Delta.

He
wanted to die with the Unit.

He
thought of Maggie and what she would go through if he were to die on the job.
She’d be destroyed, he was sure, but she’d recover. They all did. That was
life. He had no intention of dying in combat, though it didn’t scare him. He
had always avoided serious relationships because he had never wanted the
tortured look of a grieving widow on the face of a woman he loved.

It was
bad enough his parents and sister would be left devastated.

But
Maggie had changed that. He had finally given in, the woman pursuing him
relentlessly, apparently at the urging of several of his men’s partners. She
had confessed she was ready to give up on him in the beginning, but Red’s wife Shirley
had been instrumental in urging her to continue her pursuit.

His
relenting was the best thing that had ever happened to him since making the
Unit.

His
concerns over becoming less of a force on the battlefield had been proven
unfounded, which had allowed him to throw himself fully into the relationship.

So
what’s next, Big Dog?

“Thinking
of that steak?” asked Red, leaning in beside him.

Dawson
smiled and nodded. “Yeah.” His stomach growled, leaving just his brain guilty
of the lie. “I’m starving.”

“You and
me both. You gonna give Maggie a call when we get to the ship?”

Dawson
shook his head. “I’ll fire her a message. I want to talk to her in person.”

“Sounds
serious.”

Dawson
shrugged.

“Could
be.”

“Look!”
shouted Niner, pointing out the window. Dawson leaned over to see several Super
Hornets race by. “Better late than never, flyboys!”

Dawson
watched as the planes banked in the distance then smiled.

Say
goodnight, Gracie.

Below the falls, Lugenda River, Mozambique

Domingos’ eyes were wide with greed, the payday very profitable
indeed. They had found the bodies of almost forty people on board the aircraft
and along the river. Piles of loot lined the shore and lay on the decks of the
nearly empty boats, the vast majority of the troops they had carried only
yesterday dead and gone.

Yet as
he held up a gold Rolex, the sun reflecting off the diamonds embedded around the
face, he felt his heart race a little bit faster. Just the one watch would let
him live like a king for a year.

Or at
least a prince.

Watches,
rings, chains, necklaces, earrings, cellphones, computers, clothing, and more
were being retrieved. How much of the electronics still worked, he had no idea,
though there was a lot of equipment in protective cases that he was certain
were waterproof.

But just
the jewelry alone would satisfy him and his men for some time.

And the
weapons would allow them to maintain control of the area until new recruits were
found.

They had
found a cache of weapons in some unlocked cabinets, enough to equip a small
army. They had handguns, rifles, bullets, grenades, body armor and more.

They
were a force to be reckoned with again.

“Commander,
look at this!”

Domingos
turned toward one of his men as he waded out of the water. He had a large case
in his hand, handcuffs dangling from the handle. “What’s that?”

“I don’t
know, but it must be important. It was handcuffed to a soldier.”

“How did
you get it off?”

The man
grinned, tapping his machete.

Domingos
laughed, patting the ground. “Put it here, we’ll try to open it later.”

“Yes,
sir.”

The case
was placed beside him and Domingos eyed it for only a moment, not wanting to
betray his excitement at the find. It was the only thing they had found so far
that had been handcuffed to anyone. That meant it was important. The only thing
he could think of that could possibly be important enough for it to be cuffed
to a soldier was money. Surely the President travelled with a large amount of
cash to pay for his visits or grease any wheels that might need silencing
during negotiations. It’s not like he could walk into a bank and make a
withdrawal.

This
is his bank role.

It had
to be, there could be no other explanation.

He
lifted the case and it was heavy.

Extremely
heavy.

He
covered his mouth, unable to control his elation.

There
must be millions in there!

He had
his payday, all neatly contained in a black case that no one else knew about.
He stared at the man who had retrieved it as he climbed back into the wreckage,
it difficult work, the falls roaring over the fuselage. The plane stood on an
angle, the nose shoved into the riverbed, the tail high in the air, leaning
against the falls.

It took
a brave man to go inside.

He’ll
have to die.

That
would be easy enough. He’d just tell one of his trusted men to do the deed
tonight. The body would never be found.

And then
he’d be rich, with enough money to leave the country if he had to.

He
smiled then shoved his lips out, biting his cheek in an attempt to control his
excitement.

America,
here I come. And you better have my Jaguar ready when I get there.

Jet
engines roared overhead and he looked up to see four planes streak across the
sky, over the falls. They swept past the river then out of sight, the small
opening in the canopy only around the basin created by the falls.

He
pushed himself to his feet, trying to see where they went, the sound of the
engines changing then growing louder again. He heard new sounds, higher
pitched, then spotted the missiles as they streaked across the sky directly
toward them.

He reached
for the bag as the first missile hit, shrapnel from the downed plane ripping in
all directions, the screams of the men inside quickly silenced, replaced by
shouts of terror and pain from those outside. Missile after missile slammed
into the area, massive fireballs consuming everything in sight as he realized
he had committed yet one more error in judgment.

He had
underestimated the Americans once again, not realizing they wouldn’t be content
to leave their precious aircraft to the mercies of the likes of him.

And as a
fireball ripped toward him, the oxygen sucked out of his lungs, he found
himself not thinking of his lost glory or his wife and sons, but of the one
thing that had worried him all morning.

His
nephew.

And how having
to lie to his sister was no longer a problem.

USS George H. W. Bush, Off the coast of South Africa

Senior Airman Jane Harrison leaned against the cool metal of the
bulkhead, her eyes closed as she listened to the sounds of the aircraft
carrier, its engines, crew and constant take offs and landings new to her. She
had never been on a naval vessel before though she had been sailing quite a bit
with her father when they lived in Maine. She had her sea legs, something that
couldn’t be said for a lot of the other survivors.

She
smiled.

Then
frowned, a lump forming in her throat.

So
many dead!

She
thought of Jennifer. They had been friends since the beginning of her tour,
socializing, hanging out, confessing their deepest secrets and desires to each
other.

She
would be missed.

The
sound of a hatch opening nearby had her head turning lazily to the side.

She
smiled.

Dawson
stood not twenty feet from her, looking damned fine. Freshly showered and
shaved in some borrowed clothes, she felt her heart shift into high gear.

Jenn would
have loved him!

A few
times they had competed for guys, but always, once a preferred choice was
expressed by the man, the other would back off. And if he tried to play both of
them, they’d both back off.

He’s
definitely a one-woman kind of guy.

He
hadn’t expressed any interest earlier, though he was on duty, the enemy about
to descend on them at any moment, dozens dead, everyone covered in sweat and
blood.

Not
exactly a romantic setting.

But she
was young, hot, and single, with adrenaline fueled hormones from the past
twenty-four hours that had her hotter than she had been in months.

And it
had been months.

She
pushed off from the wall. “Hi!”

Dawson
looked toward her and smiled, turning in her direction.

Maybe
he
is
interested.

“How are
you?” he asked.

She
reached up and wrapped her arms around his neck, giving him a big hug. He
didn’t return it at first, then finally did.

A little
too awkwardly.

She
sighed.

Oh
well.

She
leaned back and placed a hand on his cheek, staring into his confused eyes.
“You’re taken, aren’t you?”

He
nodded, looking away for a moment then back at her. “Ah, yeah.”

“Married?”

He shook
his head.

“Engaged?”

Again he
shook his head.

“Something
wrong with her?”

He
laughed. “No, she’s the greatest woman I’ve ever known.”

“Then
what the hell are you waiting for?”

His
smile spread wide.

“I have
no idea.”

Operations Center 2, CIA Headquarters

Leroux smacked his hands together as they all watched the target
area blasted repeatedly by the Navy jets. If the rebels had left the plane
alone, it wouldn’t have been necessary, but the difficult decision had been
made by the White House to flatten the area to prevent any classified materials
or equipment from falling into the wrong hands.

Unfortunately,
it meant many of the bodies of the victims of Air Force One would never be
recovered.

A team
was already on the way to secure the area, retrieve any bodies that they could
and make sure everything was recovered. It would be a big operation, the intent
apparently to try and pull everything out for military and environmental
reasons.

Nobody
wanted the environazis raising a stink that a 747 had been left to spoil the
pristine environment.

He had
to admit they would have a point if they were to complain, and apparently,
someone higher than him on the totem pole had agreed. He wouldn’t be surprised
if it turned into a civilian operation once the military aspect had been
wrapped up.

Though
as he watched the last of the bombs rip through the dozens of boats gathered
around the fuselage of the downed airliner, he took little satisfaction in this
one aspect of this entire ordeal being wrapped up.

For from
his perspective, there was a loose end that still needed tying.

He
turned to Therrien. “When does Khomenko land?”

“Thirty
minutes.”

“Is our
asset in place?”

“Yes.”

“Hey,
boss, I found something you’re gonna wanna see.”

Leroux
walked over to Child’s workstation. “What is it?”

Child
pointed at the display. “Look who registered for refugee relief in Kiev.”

Leroux’s
eyes shot wide open, his jaw dropping.

“You’re
kidding me!”

USS George H. W. Bush, Off the coast of South Africa

Dawson stood with the other members of Bravo Team, the SEALs already
having shipped off to another assignment, they not officially there either. The
survivors were all gathered in the hangar bay, temporary quarters until they were
evacuated, which would be shortly. Transport from the carrier was already being
arranged to South Africa then a charter flight would take everyone home.