Covert Commando: A Sam Harper Military Thriller Read online

  That confirmed for Larrikowal that they'd also tracked the sniper team there.

  "A live fire exercise? If you mean a mission to eliminate the team who fired at the Speaker, you should be more explicit. You may not be aware, but they shot at me that day and hit my partner. Why shouldn't the SAF take the lead on their capture?"

  "You can have the terrorists. Their entire camp, for all we care, but… and this is where things become delicate, but I know we can trust you… they've captured an American soldier."

  "I see your interest, now. Still, if the SAF takes the lead, we can free your soldier."

  "In normal times, that would be fine, we don't doubt your prowess, but we're currently sitting off the coast with everything needed to effect a rescue and it'll take the SAF at least another day or two to get approval and then plan an effective raid."

  "It would be a great embarrassment if the SAF were to be seen to step aside and allow Americans to take care of their internal problems."

  Schnier leaned forward from his spot against the nearby wall to interrupt their negotiations.

  "My company lost a great ranger to enemy fire recently. That still wakes me up some nights, because there were things I could've done to prevent it. Let me make myself perfectly clear…"

  He shifted around Michelle to stare Larrikowal directly in the eye. "I don't care if my platoon must swim to Lubang Island with a knife between our teeth after I lock you into my footlocker; We ride tonight. So make your peace with that fact and let's figure out the most advantageous way for us to work together, instead."

  Definitely the serious one. He'd take what he could get from the Americans. Now that he knew Schnier's priorities, it'd actually be easier.

  Larrikowal nodded. "I'll come with you. The SAF will be officially running the mission, but I'm happy to defer to you and your men and transportation. Meanwhile, I'll arrange for my own force to get their as quickly as possible to take over the scene and mop up any who escape into the surrounding jungle or villages. In return, we just need those technical details. In addition, once the raid is over, this fine LCS should go put a scare into the Chinese fleet circling the Spratly Islands."

  After a glance at Schnier, she nodded in agreement.

  He smiled at her. "That's its public mission, after all. Perhaps we can also arrange a future training date based on our obvious affinity for one another."

  Michelle chuckled. "Not the first time I've been asked for a date on a navy ship, but your version of seduction has a certain macho appeal."

  She was just attempting to throw him off with her flirting, wasn't she? Well, he could give as well as he got.

  "In our navy, women and seaman don't mix. Prevents pregnancy."

  "I'll bet it does." Her phone buzzed. She picked it up and glanced at the screen. "Sorry, one of my alerts. It's another message for the missing soldier from his girlfriend, but I can't tell her where he's at. I'll deal with it later."

  She set her device face down on the table. "So, now that we have an agreement on all the major points, next steps?"

  "I'll confirm our deal with the Secretary of Defense, arrange for my force's movement to the island, and send our technical experts to this ship. Then I'll join you to help plan our joint operation on Lubang against the snipers."

  "It's a date." Michelle grinned. "But Schnier and I were up all night, so we're going to get some more rest before dusk arrives again."

  Time to prepare his force for war.

  * * *

  Schnier followed Michelle down the ship's cramped passageway. Up a ladder. Down another ladder. To their assigned quarters.

  "Hey, wait."

  Michelle stopped, but stretched. "I'm tired."

  "I know this is a navy ship, but we could be tired together."

  She sighed. "I've been thinking…"

  That's never a good sign. Almost as bad as "We've got to talk."

  "Yeah?"

  "Maybe we need a break. A bit of a breather. This independent command thing has been full of stress for you. This mission is about to ruin my career. If we keep trying to make things work, they're liable to blow up instead."

  She might as well have started this conversation the other way.

  Schnier dug into his heart. Was it breaking?

  Surprisingly, no. More numb. With a bit of a hole, perhaps; lonely, but not broken.

  "Okay. I agree."

  She glared at him. "What do you mean, you agree?"

  Women. No pleasing 'em.

  "We could use a break. Stay friends. Co-workers. Just lay off the romance for a bit. Figure it out after this mission is over and we're back to our normal lives. You and Sam managed that whole friend thing, right?"

  "Um… yeah. Friends. That's what I was going to say, anyway. Glad we're on the same page. We can talk more about it later. For now, I'm hitting the sack."

  "Good night. We'll have another incursion to plan tonight, assuming your new SAF buddy comes through for us."

  "Oh, he will. One way or another. I'm not used to taking no for an answer."

  "Good."

  He turned toward his compartment and its waiting bunk. One less thing to worry about. To keep him awake once he lay down.

  Between his platoon, Sam, and Raven, he had enough of those already.

  * * *

  Not long after dark, Pahk obtained fresh orders from Admiral Hu. He tracked Omar down in his stone quarters.

  Raven departed as Pahk arrived. She walked with a tiny sliding limp.

  Was Omar back to his usual practices?

  Well, none of Pahk's business how he occupied his time and his wives.

  Omar set down his cup and looked up from his cross-legged seat on a mat near the table. "Ah, Pahk. I have interesting news for you."

  More sponsor, but Pahk wasn't one to quibble. "Oh?"

  "My contact in the office of SAF, a trusted brother of the faith, knows nothing about the American's mission. He tells me everyone there is confused about who the counter-sniper team was. Our captive is not telling us the complete truth."

  "I'm curious as to your methods. How have you established a relationship inside the counter-terror police force?"

  "I was born into a good family, with traditional values, but because of the anti-Muslim policies of the authorities, I found myself committed to one of their prisons for a period of three years."

  In reality, Pahk knew from China's background materials that he'd been caught as a motorcycle thief, but he just nodded.

  "In prison, I met my true brothers. Found my true calling in the faith, that of jihad. Proved myself to them by removing a menace. We formed a firm society of trust, as only those threatened by destruction by those around them can."

  Omar picked up his cup and took a sip. "We were able to exist because some of the guards sympathized with our views. Of course, they also benefited from the outside assistance our senior members arranged. Gifts were given. Items of need smuggled through the walls. It was a fine system."

  So, a prison gang, with guards on the take.

  "I can see how as a minority religion your member's organizational skills would benefit you."

  "Yes. After I completed my time there, I kept in touch. Eventually, that led me to my current position as the emir of the cause, but it also led some of those former guards higher into the hierarchy of the police. I made my own small contribution to one officer's advancement by arranging for him to single-handedly capture a terrorist cell."

  He set his cup back down and leaned forward. "Catholic terrorists, of course!"

  His rolling laughter echoed from the cave walls. "So now he is my creature. He owes me everything, and I can expose him at any time. There is no better basis for trust than to hold a man's balls in your fist."

  Pahk chuckled to keep him in a good mood. "We must find out more from your captive, then. He's another you have a good grip on. But, I too have news which may impact your decision in this matter."

  Let Omar believe he decided. Pahk didn'
t care.

  "Please, sit." Omar gestured to a floor mat. "I will send for refreshments if you desire."

  Pahk took the indicated place. "I must apologize. I'm operating under a time restriction. My ride off the island will return soon, and I must leave your most excellent hospitality for at least a few days."

  "That's unfortunate, I've enjoyed your company, as well as your contributions to our jihad."

  "I do have a new proposal for you. A group is keenly interested in your prisoner. Don't worry, they are another of the Imperialists' enemies. This isn't a ransom, but they'll pay highly for him."

  Omar leaned back and rested his chin on his hand. He stroked his beard with his thumb.

  "Based on our past relationship, I think you already understand the level of enticement this action you request would require."

  "Are you familiar with the Uyghur?"

  "Yes, the People of the Faith who are oppressed in north-western China, between Mongolia and Pakistan."

  "Exactly. What if I could have some of them freed? Delivered to you?"

  "We are not a refugee camp. How many are we talking about?"

  "Perhaps six nubile Uyghur women? After all, young women are the most vulnerable, are they not?"

  Omar stroked his beard again and then smiled. "A dozen. You can have him for a dozen, but no less. Bring them here and he's yours. Who knows, perhaps I'll even find them suitable husbands among my faithful followers."

  This would be the difficult part of their negotiations.

  "I can't. I must take your captive with me today, so I can trade him elsewhere for them." He checked the time. "We must leave soon if I'm to make my pickup schedule. But I've already demonstrated I'll keep my word by delivering all of the promised weapons and even a bonus from our last agreement, have I not?"

  "Your track record is excellent, but like last time, I would appreciate a deposit of good faith. Reputation is important, but one hundred-thousand American dollars in a safe account is also quite useful."

  Pahk could've gone as high as a quarter of a million as a good faith deposit, but no need for Omar to know that. Perhaps he could claim Omar had negotiated better and wanted the deposit split between accounts, one of which would help support Pahk's family.

  Something to consider.

  "A difficult bargain, but we have an agreement."

  Now to seal his deal with Omar with a drink, gather his belongings and the American, and then meet his boat.

  Just another boring day at the office.

  * * *

  I hated wearing chains. Didn't suit me at all, especially the limited mobility for using the bathroom.

  Chamber pots stink. Literally.

  Raven staggered into my prison carrying a cast-iron pot. Set it down.

  "Good to see you. What's wrong with your leg?"

  She grinned. Hiked up her robe to reveal jeans. Slid a sword from underneath the long flowing black material.

  "Tough to walk with this thing." She handed it to me, hilt-first. "Left the sheath behind so I only needed to conceal the missing hilt."

  Good steel. A working soldier's katana. Single edge. "Perfect. Flip that pot over and slide it next to where the chain attaches to the floor."

  For maximum force, we needed the shortest length of steel between chain and pot edge and the longest out where I'd apply pressure.

  She moved the pot into place as requested. "What next?"

  With the pot in place next to my left wrist, I slotted the sword into the open chain closest to the floor. Pressing the sharp edge against steel chain might dull it, but it'd keep it in place and put more pressure on a smaller surface area.

  "Next we see what breaks first."

  I leveraged the flat edge on the pot. Not the wide side, too prone to snap, but the thin and flat side opposite the edge.

  Put my back on the sword. Bent my legs to lift my lower half. Dump as much weight as possible on the hilt.

  The sword flexed, but the chain held.

  If we applied enough pressure, either the chain would give, or the bolt would. I refused to consider the sword breaking.

  I bounced up and down on the hilt.

  Still nothing. Without enough pressure, this wouldn't work.

  "Come here." I patted the ground next to my right side.

  She picked her way around the edge of the room and stood up against my shoulder.

  "Need you to sit on my chest."

  "Okay…" She turned and lowered herself down.

  I held the hilt under my back, so I couldn't help keep her on. Only a light pressure, though.

  "No, put all your weight on me."

  Her pressure shifted. Tough to breath for a moment. Had to thrust my chest out.

  The chain creaked. I lifted my legs. Gave the sword the tiniest bounce.

  With a crack, the chain deformed and parted.

  Gravity did the rest. I landed with the sword between me and the stone ground. Ouch.

  Raven landed on top of me, having given way unexpectedly. Slid her hip into my chin.

  Double-ouch.

  I lifted my left wrist and rubbed beneath the shackle with the fingers of my right hand.

  Victory! I could scratch again.

  The sword now had a tiny flaw in the edge, perfect for lining up another chain. We repeated the maneuver three more times, each easier than the last as I gained the use of more limbs.

  To free the last leg, I just jumped on the hilt. She didn't even need to help.

  Shackles and a couple feet of chain remained on my limbs, but with the other end free, I clanked around the edge of the room just to stretch out and for the exercise.

  "Okay, from your previous description, there's the corridor outside, which leads to the harem on one end and a guard on the other?"

  Her cheeks turned red. "Yes, I suppose you could call it a harem. I never thought of it that way, just as the place the wives lived. Omar rarely entertains male captives."

  "Lead the way."

  I followed her into a long and thin natural rock passageway.

  She turned left. Strode quickly ahead.

  We arrived at an open area. Not large enough to call a cavern, but more the size of a living room, with carpets and rugs covering the walls between smaller openings into individual or group sleeping quarters.

  A pot of rice steamed over a two-boiler portable propane stove. A woman in baggy cotton pants and blouse stood slicing carrots into it.

  Her stew smelled pleasant, like the aroma of home around Thanksgiving, but when she noticed me, she sucked in a deep breath in preparation to scream.

  Raven stepped forward. "Quiet!"

  That cut her off with only a brief strangled shout. Hopefully, not enough to cause a guard to do more than wonder what that noise was.

  Four other young Filipino women sat cross-legged on the floor playing a game with hands full of brightly colored cards containing weird symbols.

  At the noise, five others peeked their heads out of their sleeping spaces. One of them said, "Oh!", but the rest followed Raven's admonition.

  Only the cook appeared older than Raven, and she's in her late twenties, like me and Schnier.

  I stood just inside the entrance, bruised, dangling two chains, dragging two others, and carrying a naked sword.

  Probably not the most reassuring sight.

  Raven took charge. "Gather around, everyone. It's time to leave. Don't be afraid, this is Sam. He's going to get us out of here. You know where his chains are from. He's an American army officer. A ranger."

  The cook at the stove pointed her knife at me and thrust it into the air as she spoke. "He shouldn't be here. How do we know he doesn't plan to rape us all and abandon us in the jungle?"

  A titter flew around the room.

  With a frown, Raven moved toward her. "Now don't be silly. I grew up with another officer he works with who is nearby. Omar captured him, he's not here of his own free will on some sort of raiding expedition."

  Another of the gi
rls slid from her room into the common area and stood up. "Well, I heard he was an imperialist who came to kill us all."

  "I can assure you ladies, I wouldn't harm a hair on your head."

  Another girl turned sideways and stroked her arm. "Then what's the sword for? Your own not deadly enough?"

  Raven let out a long sigh. "You know what it's like here. We were each assigned a man. Only they got a choice. Some of us to the same man. We're here to please them, feed them, and clean their quarters. Nothing else."

  The cook now turned her knife toward Raven. "But you're the special one, aren't you? Get to take trips off the island. Serve Omar's guests, while we only service them. Why should we trust you on this? We can survive here."

  "Don't. The only reason I haven't already left was to find a way to get all y'all out when I could. I have the way. Here he is. You can stay if you want, but we're leaving as soon as whoever wants to go is ready."

  The room exploded into chatter as each girl discussed her options with the others. Two began crying softly and one outright bawling, as they stepped on each other's feelings of hope and relief.

  At least we had walls of sound-absorbing cloth over solid stone.

  Raven ignored them. She went to the largest side chamber and picked up a green duffel bag and a large black robe. Carried them out next to me. Handed me the robe.

  "Put this on. You'll blend in better." She hefted the duffel. "This is everything I need. All that remains of my life."

  I pulled the robe over my head. Tangled my chains in an armpit. Turned in circles while I got everything where it needed to go.

  "Your life isn't in there, it's in the choices you make. Now they have to make theirs."

  It took a few minutes to sort out, and I got to answer some pointed questions about the future, to which I couldn't give great answers, but in the end, all ten gathered their belongings to leave.

  No desire to tie any up and leave them behind, anyway.

  "Any of you have weapons?"

  The cook had her knife. She also came up with a way of tying my ankle chains up my calves with a ribbon so they didn't scrape across the ground.

  "Okay, Raven will go first. The guards are most used to her coming and going. I'll follow with the sword. We'll keep you and your knife at the back, where you can fend off any surprise attackers."