Domination Bid. Don Pendleton
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Madari whirled on his heel and as he headed for the door he added, “In the meantime, please consider yourself a guest and, should you need anything, perhaps food or a blanket, my assistant will be happy to get it for you. You should take every opportunity afforded you on this point. We’re still six hours from our destination.”
When Madari was gone, Dratshev took time to inspect his bonds. As he’d suspected, the restraints circling his wrists were thick leather fastened by chains. Escaping such bonds would be impossible. He looked at his legs and noted they were also secured in like fashion.
Finally, Dratshev laid his head back and closed his eyes. Best to get as much sleep as possible and wait for a more opportune time to make his escape.
Sooner or later, he knew such a solution would present itself. It always did when one exercised patience.
* * *
ELEVEN MEN WAITED as their leader studied the facility through a night-vision scope. To local residents, it appeared to be nothing more than what it was advertised: a research center run by the department of agriculture.
Colonel Jack Cyrus knew it to be otherwise, which was why he and his team were in rural Iowa.
Cyrus lowered the scope and passed it to his second-in-command, Riley Braden. “Interesting. The security appears to be minimal.”
Braden took the scope and performed his own inspection. “I agree, sir.”
Cyrus tried not to wince at the “sir” despite the fact he understood it. It was protocol but difficult to hear coming from a man that had not only been his peer throughout their respective military careers, but also his friend since high school. In private, they addressed each other by name but out here in the field they had to set an example and chain of command in front of the others.
Braden continued. “Ten-foot fence with cyclone wire. No visible sentries, so probably armed security inside.”
“Rent-a-cops, at best,” Cyrus replied.
“And probably not that many.”
“Intelligence says they walk rounds with e-point checks at regular intervals. That means they can’t cover the whole area at one time.”
“I’d concur with that assessment,” Braden agreed. “What’s your plan?”
“We have to assume a facility of that size will have full video-and audio-camera surveillance.” Cyrus turned to Braden. “I see a training opportunity here, Major. What do you think is the best course of action?”
Braden didn’t hesitate in his reply. “Two teams. Breach the northeast corner of the perimeter fence. First team will locate the power sources and neutralize them, including generators. Second team makes entry to the building and then sends two to retrieve the data while the rest deal with any human elements. Outer team will provide perimeter and egress security, as well as mission failsafe.”
Cyrus nodded, impressed with his friend and colleague. “Excellent tactical plan, Major Braden. Exactly what I would’ve done. I’d say the decision’s been made.”
“Thank you, Colonel.”
“You’ll lead the inside team.”
Braden looked surprised. “I don’t know the job.”
“You know it as well as I do.”
“Yes, sir, but I was trained to do it only in the event you could not.”
“Nonsense. There’s no difference.”
“Sir, with all due respect, I strongly suggest you reconsider.”
Cyrus didn’t look at Braden as he responded in short fashion, “I already have, Major. It’s not a request. You will lead the primary team and you will accomplish the mission objectives as they’ve been given to us. Understood?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Then let’s move out.”
Braden nodded and turned to the team members he would now be leading on the mission. As he briefed them on the change in plans, Cyrus sighed. He’d considered sticking to the original mission parameters but he wanted his friend to take credit for what he knew would be another success. Their employer, who’d expressed reservations about bringing Riley Braden into the fold from the beginning, had to know that Braden had as much command ability and skill as Cyrus. This would be Braden’s chance to prove it without even being aware Cyrus was putting him to the test. Cyrus had learned long ago one mark of a good leader was to set up those in his command to succeed whenever possible. Not only did it boost morale but it also instilled confidence in self—not to mention what it did for unit cohesion.
The teams automatically performed a last check of equipment and then broke into approach formation. Every man knew what to do, where to stage in relationship to every other man, and what their individual responsibilities. They’d trained for this dozens of times until they’d had it down like clockwork.
The exterior team arrived first and two men went to work on the fence, cutting links with the marked precision of professionals. Cyrus knew they’d practiced, but his chest swelled with pride as he watched them in action. Within thirty seconds they’d made the ingress.
With a nod from Cyrus, Braden gestured to his team and they moved through the hold. The two squad weapons men took point and then Braden. The remaining trio proceeded after him. They moved across the field at a breakneck clip and located the power boxes stationed on the exterior of the main building.
Braden knelt and flicked his thumb twice at two of his team members. The demo guys went to work on the boxes, priming them with the charges. Braden risked a glance over his shoulder and saw Cyrus making his way through the fence in the same way Braden’s team had just a minute earlier.
Once the charges were set, Braden and his men broke from their positions and headed toward the rear door where they’d planned to make their entry. They were nearly there when the charges blew the power boxes apart. Every interior light in the building went out, as well as power to a small external building. One of the men blew the lock off the door with a small roll of self-detonating plastic explosive and within seconds Braden’s team had gained access.
“You have five minutes.” Cyrus’s voice resounded in Braden’s headset. “Mark T-minus five, starting now. Radio silence from this point.”
“Copy,” Braden replied.
The six men pushed up the darkened corridor, moving smoothly as one unit. They followed a standard fire-and-maneuver pattern, leap-frogging in pairs as they approached their objective.
They reached the data room unmolested and Braden gestured for four of his men to fan out while the other would provide cover while he made his entry. The door proved no match for the pencil detonator that shot the bolt lock inward as if it had been fired from a potato gun. Braden eased the door open and snatched the red-lens flashlight from his equipment harness.
He managed to get about three feet inside before bullets crashed into the chest of his comrade and drove the man into the door frame. Braden wondered how he managed to avoid a similar fate even