as Pakistan and the U.K.”
“This sweep of friendly agencies?” Brognola queried. “How should I interpret that?”
Kurtzman cleared his throat. “Better you don’t,” he said.
Aaron “the Bear” Kurtzman and his cyber team were undisputed experts when it came to infiltration. Kurtzman had developed programs of such sophistication that they allowed covert entry into the most dedicated systems without the agencies ever having knowledge that they were being scrutinized. The details of Kurtzman’s invasive programs were known only to himself. He kept them in his head, running them only when Stony Man needed instant access to information vital to missions.
Like the one they were into right now.
Brognola nodded. “Okay. So, you checked databases and picked up what you wanted?”
“MI5 and MI6 have information on Rahman that ties in with the proposed Phoenix Force and Able missions,” Akira said. “It confirms the guy is deep into this radical culture. He basically just doesn’t like the U.S. He’s especially ticked off about our close ties with the Pakistani administration. I pulled up these.” More images appeared on the big screens. “A U.K. operative took this a few weeks ago. Rahman and Khalil Amir. They were in Lyon, France, at some antiques junket. Rahman affects an interest in antiques. They stayed at a swish hotel along with other import-export players. The U.K. agent tailing Rahman reported he returned to Pakistan after his meet with Amir.”
“The Brits kept a watch on them all,” Carmen Delahunt said as she overlaid photos of Amir arriving at London’s Heathrow Airport. “This was Khalil Amir arriving. He stayed in London for three days before returning to Boston. While he was in the U.K. he visited Prem.”
“Any significance in this U.K. visit?” David McCarter asked. The Phoenix Force commander was sipping from a frosted bottle of Classic Coke. “I’ll bet they weren’t taking in the sights.”
“Like Akira said, Amir did make contact with Prem, who’s on the U.K. watch list as a possible radical,” Delahunt stated. “Under surveillance, but he can’t be tagged with anything vital.”
“All these meetings can’t just be bloody coincidences,” McCarter said. “Too many in a short space of time.”
“I’m guessing none of the agencies can do anything in case they scare these people and drive them underground,” Calvin James said. The black Phoenix Force member had been watching and listening in silence, taking everything in and filing it away. “If they scare these guys off we could lose valuable leads.”
Brognola nodded. “Exactly. Keep all this in mind once you get into the field. If we’re right about a possible upcoming threat, we need to stay well back until we have solid evidence these people are involved.”
“Easier said than done,” Rosario “the Politician” Blancanales, of Able Team, pointed out. “We start probing, it could easily generate contact. If that happens what are we supposed to do?”
“Look, Pol,” Brognola said, “I’m not saying you have to put yourselves at risk if the situation changes. If it comes down to the wire I want you guys walking away alive. All I’m saying is try to keep things low-key until you have something we can use.”
“With the chance these idiots are serious about setting off nuclear devices, are we supposed to walk around on bloody tiptoe?” McCarter retorted. “Step back from doing anything to upset them? Hal, you presented us with this threat. Why all the pussyfooting? We should go with whatever we have, and nail these bastards. Squash them into the ground and put a stop to their harebrained scheme.”
“Son of a bitch,” Carl Lyons said. “That’s exactly what I was going to say.”
“He stole the boss’s line,” Hermann Schwarz, the third member of Able Team, whispered.
Blancanales gave a melodramatic gasp. “I’m shocked.”
“Should we duck and cover?”
“Nah, I want to see the fight.”
For once Lyons failed to bite. He sat back, a thin smirk on his face because he had beaten Blancanales and Schwarz at their own game.
“Now that isn’t fair,” Blancanales said. “No reaction means no fun.”
Schwarz nodded. “He’s doing it on purpose. Let’s not talk to him for the rest of the briefing.”
“Now the children have put their toys back in the box,” Brognola said, wiping the grin off his own face, “we can get down to business.”
The short break had given them all a breather from the tension of the moment. Hal Brognola knew his people well. Horseplay was to be expected from the teams. It was part of who they were. They were consummate professionals, and the missions they undertook for the special operations group were life threatening. They stepped into the thick of combat, taking on savage opposition without a flicker of regret. Brognola sent them out on missions that stretched the limits of their skills, pitting them against truly dangerous enemies. He understood that, shouldered the responsibility, knowing his people—and he considered them to be his people—would give their utmost.
“In the field, guys, you make your own decisions. I’ll back whatever you do. However you achieve it. What the hell, you’re the experts. If eggs need to be broken, that’s it. Look, I’m just the administrator here. Let’s get it right.”
Barbara Price stood up and began to circle the table, dropping thick mission folders in front of each man.
“Everything we have is in these files. Backgrounds on participants. Photographs. Contacts. Locations. Let me know if there’s anything else required. Once you’ve studied the files we can discuss individual needs.”
“I don’t see my luncheon vouchers,” McCarter said. “You’re always expecting us to do it on the cheap.”
“Okay,” Price said sternly, “listen up. We can arrange transport to get you to wherever you want. Paperwork, too, as per usual. Depending on location there might be problems with weapons, so we’ll have to find local suppliers. With the current tensions, some regimes are very hot on loose weapons, so be careful. You’ll have to use any local contacts you have yourselves. I’ll let you have anything we might find on file.”
“Work out your dispersal plans as fast as you can,” Brognola said. “We want you fully organized, but time is not on our side here. We need you moving ASAP. Once you have things pinned down, let Barb know so she can make the arrangements.”
A subdued murmur filled the room as the teams went over their mission parameters. They worked in unhurried discussions, each member putting forward suggestions. Brognola left them to it, withdrawing from the table to pour himself a mug of coffee from one of the thermos jugs supplied. As he stood there, Kurtzman spun his wheelchair around and powered it to where the big Fed stood.
“Never fails to impress me, watching them figure out a battle plan,” he said. He was refilling his mug from the infamous pot of his special brew. It was said Kurtzman’s coffee had the same strength as industrial paint stripper, and no one at Stony Man would ever deny that statement. “They’re a unique crew.”
“Damn right there, Aaron. It’s a shame when you think how many times they’ve pulled this country back from
