Read The Orpheus Deception Online
Authors: David Stone
The Orpheus Deception (38 page)
“I’m Captain Dalton, sir. Fifth SFG out of Fort Campbell.”
A pause while Holliday took that in.
“What’s a snake eater doing in this sorry-ass civilian cluster fuck?”
Dalton wasn’t surprised at the Marine’s attitude. Holding the CIA’s coat while the CIA pulls some sleazy prisoner exchange at an out-of-the-way airfield in Southeast Asia wasn’t the kind of thing a Marine Corps combat lifer likes to be seen doing.
“We came to get one of our own out of Changi, sir.”
“And you did. Good for you. They tell me he’s SAS.”
“Yes, sir. He’s had a hell of a time. I was—”
“You say your name is
Dalton?”
Dalton?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Micah
Dalton?”
Dalton?”
That stopped him for a moment.
“Yes, sir. Micah Dalton,” he said, carefully.
“I heard of you. You were in the Horn, your unit was covering an extraction of wounded and KIA. Uadan Highway Strip, near Gesira.”
Jesus. That totally
fubar
op. Now what?
fubar
op. Now what?
“Guilty as charged, sir.”
“You called in CAS on your own position. They put a Spooky Gunship in the zone. Laid down chain-gun fire, lit up and shredded about a hundred Skinnies who were trying to get past your unit to put RPG fire into an old Convair Samaritan with UN markings? You were wounded, then you and three guys from your team spent two days being chased all over the AO by the Skinnies until the One-sixty AR managed to pull you out?”
“Yes, Major. Bad times.”
“Not for my niece Katie. She was a medic with Charlie Company, First of the Third, working with UNPROFOR Somalia. She was
in
that
fucking
Samaritan. I heard you retired, joined the DIA?”
in
that
fucking
Samaritan. I heard you retired, joined the DIA?”
“Not retired. I’m still Active. Seconded.”
“Still Active? Good for you. What can I do for you, Captain?”
“Are there two assholes around, PUNTS from Langley?”
“Yeah. Howell and Purdy. One white and one pink. Coupla limp-dick CIA pencil necks. They brought the Chinese geeks in. I already had the pleasure of their society up to my ass.”
“Sir, they’re here for my SAS sergeant.”
“Yeah. That’s what they’re saying.”
“Thing is, sir, I don’t want to hand him over to the civilians.”
Silence. Nothing but air rushing past and the rotors pounding and the airframe chattering hard enough to stun. Dalton felt the eyes on him.
“Roger that, Captain Dalton. Why not?”
“He’s a good soldier, and I want him in military custody.”
More silence. Fyke was watching Dalton. So was everybody else.
“I hear he went AWOL? I hear he’s facing federal charges.”
“I haven’t been shown any
civilian
charges. And if there
had
been civilian charges—federal charges—it’d be the FBI picking him up and not two pencil necks from the CIA, wouldn’t it? Sir?”
civilian
charges. And if there
had
been civilian charges—federal charges—it’d be the FBI picking him up and not two pencil necks from the CIA, wouldn’t it? Sir?”
“The spooks are saying he’s a threat to national security.”
“With respect, sir, the CIA thought Ronald Reagan was a threat to national security.”
“Good point.”
He paused then. Dalton could almost hear his gears turning.
“Captain Dalton, is whatever he’s charged with a violation under the Uniform Code of Military Justice?”
“No, sir. Not to my knowledge.”
“You’re missing my point, Captain. I’ll say it again. I take it your SAS sergeant was seconded to an operation under American military control?”
“Yes, sir. At one point, he was.”
“Then you could make the case that whatever he did subsequent to that falls under the statutes of the UCMJ? Which makes it
our
business?”
our
business?”
“Yes, sir. You could make that case.”
“This a big deal to you, Captain? This means we’re stepping on civilian turf, taking your man into military custody. There’ll be a shit storm.”
“Perhaps the Major would lend me a slicker, sir?”
A throaty crackle then, not static. Major Holliday was laughing.
“Goliad, you listening?”
“Sir. Yes, sir.”
“Goliad, you dee-dee right now. Get over to Sembawang, put your bird down inside
our
compound. Don’t let nobody get near you until I get there. No civilians. No Embassy pukes. Nobody who isn’t Corps. Got that?”
our
compound. Don’t let nobody get near you until I get there. No civilians. No Embassy pukes. Nobody who isn’t Corps. Got that?”
“Aye, sir. What about the mission?”
“That
is
your mission. I’ll handle the PUNTS. Captain Dalton?”
is
your mission. I’ll handle the PUNTS. Captain Dalton?”
“Here, sir.”
“That thing in the Horn?”
“Yes, sir?”
“It was fucking nuts, Dalton. When I heard it, know what I thought?”
“No, sir.”
“I thought, that
fucking
lunatic should have been a Marine.”
fucking
lunatic should have been a Marine.”
LUJAC WAS ON
the cell phone seconds after the Huey lifted off. Larissa answered, still sounding sleepy but without the attitude.
the cell phone seconds after the Huey lifted off. Larissa answered, still sounding sleepy but without the attitude.
Instead, she sounded worried.
“Kiki, Daddy wants to talk to you.”
“Okay. I’m right here.”
“Well, you’re on the cell. I told you to wait.”
“I need something.”
“That’s a shock. What?”
“If I give you a cell number and the ID for a brand-new Samsung Katana, can you get me a GPS reading on it?”
“Is this business or personal?”
“Strictly business, Cabbage.”
“Is the cell phone on ROAM?”
“Yes. It’s a London number. So we can assume yes.”
“That could be a problem. Generally, the GPS function only works if the phone is operating locally.”
“Then can you track it by the nearest cell tower?”
“That’s even harder to do than getting GPS data because you have to hack into the phone company’s operating grid. And even if you can do that, the tower number will only tell you where the phone is within a few hundred yards. I’m thinking about the GPS thing. Is the phone in Singapore?”
“Yes.”
“Look. Singapore is pretty sophisticated electronically. They do a lot of international commerce there. Lots of trade. The big banks and the global corporations are always worried about having their people kidnapped. They all require that company cell phones and handhelds have their GPS signals activated. It might be possible . . . they might have GPS tracking capacity in Singapore by now, even for foreign phones. I’ll have to know the account number. And who the carrier is. And the name of the account holder. And you’re sure the phone has its GPS identifier signal turned on.”
“It’s on. I did it myself.”
“What’s the number?”
Lujac had it memorized. He was good at that sort of thing.
“What’s the carrier?”
“AT and T.”
“That’s an American carrier.”
“Yeah. It’s an American phone. Belongs to the CIA.”
“Then it’ll be encrypted. And if I try to access the GPS system for AT and T locally, it might show up on an alert screen at Langley or the NSA.”
“Life is risk, Cabbage.”
“I’ll have to— I have Daddy on my other line. Hold on.”
Lujac braced himself. If something had made Larissa nervous, that something was probably her father.
Gospic was on.
“Lujac. You’re
still
in Singapore?”
still
in Singapore?”
Saigon. Shit. I’m still only in Saigon.
“Yes. I’m—”
“What have you got?”
“I’ve got that Dalton and the woman came here to get a man out of Changi Prison. And they did. They just took off in a—”
“Who was the man?”
“Somebody named Raymond Fyke.”
A silence. An electric hum. Larissa was still on the line. She was listening in. Why?
“Never heard of him.”
“He was going by another name.”
“Which was . . . ?”
“Brendan Fitch.”
“Never heard of him either. What was he in Changi for?”
“They say he got drunk and sank an oil tanker called the
Mingo Dubai.
In a storm off the Strait of Malacca.”
Mingo Dubai.
In a storm off the Strait of Malacca.”
“How could one man sink a tanker?”
“No idea, boss. Maybe he left a tap running?”
A silence. A humming silence, filled with malice.
“Okay. A wasted trip. You still have a line on these people?”
That depends on your daughter.
“Yes. I do. What do you want?”
“It’s time. Give them all my greetings.”
“All. Including the drunk?”
“Yes. All of them.”
“Okay. Right now?”
“Now. Today. Then come home. I have something for you in Florence. Somebody needs to retire.”
“Sure, boss. Who?”
“Radko Borins. The Florence cops have him.”
“Did he get the job done?”
“Partly. He got the point made. But now he’s a problem. Is he a problem you can handle?”
“Sure. Right after I take care of this end.”
“Okay. Good work. Be back by the end of the week.”
“Looking forward to it.”
“Kiki, we’re gonna cut you off for now. I gotta have a talk with Larissa. You stay on those people. Get it done.”
“Okay, boss. But I think—”
The line went dead.
Thousands of miles away, Larissa was listening to her father’s breathing on the other end of the encrypted line out of Odessa.
“Larissa . . . I’m not going to be angry.”
“No, Daddy.”
“Did Lujac ask you to do anything personal for him today?”
Daddy has my phone tapped.
And probably my apartment too.
“Yes, Daddy.”
“What?”
“He wanted to find out where Vigo Majiic was.”
“I see. Did he say why?”
“He said he had a shoot in Geneva in December. For Chopard. And he wanted to see if Vigo would be a grip for him, because his other grips were on another job. He said Vigo used to work for a photographer in Trieste.”
“And does he
have
a shoot for Chopard in Geneva in December?”
have
a shoot for Chopard in Geneva in December?”
“Yes. I checked with their agency.”
“Okay. Fine. And you told him where Vigo was now?”
“Yes, Daddy. I didn’t—”
“No harm done, sweet. No harm. I just don’t like Kiki Lujac calling my daughter up in the middle of the night, and I
really
don’t like him asking you to do personal favors for him. He’s an employee. Not family.”
really
don’t like him asking you to do personal favors for him. He’s an employee. Not family.”
“It won’t happen again. Sorry, Daddy.”
“You don’t have to apologize, sweet. Lujac’s not a problem for you.”
“You should know something, Daddy. He asked me to track a cell phone GPS.”
“For whom?”
“A woman named Mandy Pownall. A London number.”
“That’s okay. That’s business. Go ahead and do it. Give him the data as soon as you can. How are you feeling? How are the scars?”
“Healing, Daddy. Getting better.”
“Good. Another round coming up in Atlanta, you know?”
“Yes, Daddy. Four weeks.”
“I’ll come with you. Then we’ll have Christmas together. I’ve booked us into a really nice place in Savannah, Christmas in Savannah, Georgia, in America, Larissa. Just the two of us. Are you happy?”
“Yes, Daddy. Very happy.”
“Good. I love you. Bye, darling.”
“Love you too. Bye, Daddy.”
Gospic rang off. Larissa held the handset for a while, staring into space, seeing but not seeing the rain falling in sheets on the mountains far across the bay. Her cat was up, a muscular tabby, stretching his forepaws and getting ready to shred the couch some more. Radko was in a hospital in Florence, under guard. Daddy didn’t need Lujac to go
retire
Radko. The Italians would kill him for shooting the Italian woman. There was nothing Radko could say that would hurt Daddy’s business. The Italians were going to torture Radko to death, which was fine with Daddy since it would save him the trouble. So Daddy didn’t care what happened to Radko. He just wanted Kiki Lujac to relax, to think he was still in the family business.
retire
Radko. The Italians would kill him for shooting the Italian woman. There was nothing Radko could say that would hurt Daddy’s business. The Italians were going to torture Radko to death, which was fine with Daddy since it would save him the trouble. So Daddy didn’t care what happened to Radko. He just wanted Kiki Lujac to relax, to think he was still in the family business.
So . . .
Daddy is going to have Kiki Lujac killed. For asking about Vigo Majiic. She had no idea why. But Kiki was going to die.
Other books
The Penderwicks on Gardam Street by Jeanne Birdsall
Bloodstone by Barbara Campbell
The Deal : Billionaire Romance by Rose Cody
The Perfect Blend by Rogers, Donna Marie
A Kiss in Time by Alex Flinn
The Baby Truth by Stella Bagwell
Her Dying Breath by Rita Herron
Days of Winter by Cynthia Freeman
Error in Diagnosis by Mason Lucas M. D.
A Tale of Magic... by Brandon Dorman