Choke Point

FORTY-NINE

They were nearly at the summit of a mountain pass that would take them down toward the port, the lights of the cranes and container ships out at the terminal just coming into view, when Ross got Pepper’s report:

Gunship inbound. ETA two minutes.

Unnerved by the news, Ross cut the steering yoke a little too sharply to the right — and the dreaded noise from the right track had him cursing. They’d just hit a large rock and thrown the track. With a screech of metal, the vehicle began pulling sharply to the left side and sliding sideways back down the hillside.

Even as Ross tried to brake, he realized with a start that throwing the track was only the first of their problems. The APC was losing ground quickly, and he screamed for Kozak to get down in his hatch. Ross did likewise, and not two heartbeats later –

The M113 rolled on to its side with a hundred groans of contorting metal, track shoes burrowing into rock, the side walls rumbling and making it sound as though they were trapped inside a snare drum during a rock concert.

And all at once, they came to a squealing, coughing, shimmying halt. Ross immediately turned off the engine and hit the master switch, trying to prevent a fire hazard. Knowing that spilled oil and gasoline could still catch fire — and with that incoming gunship still at the fore of his thoughts, Ross barked his orders, ‘Everybody out! Out through my hatch right now!’

30K and Pepper looked shaken but were crawling forward across the side wall of the compartment, while Kozak flashed a thumbs-up and followed Ross outside.

Ross dragged himself down on to the dirt, then scrambled to his feet to turn back and help Kozak through the hatch. Next came Pepper, followed by 30K.

From the muffled booming of gunfire and explosions in the distance came the distinct and inevitable sound of beating rotors. Ross whirled in that direction and spotted the running lights — tiny and innocent — down there in the valley. He brought up his Cross-Com and zoomed in with night vision.

No, that wasn’t the local news chopper come to report on fender benders down on the highway.

Pepper’s gunship was less than sixty seconds away, wings spread, rocket pods full, fangs out.

‘Let’s go! Let’s go!’ he ordered. ‘Pepper, call in the drone!’

Ahead lay a deep groove in the mountainside, and Ross was reminded that this entire place wasn’t really a mountain at all but the inside of a volcano, and this groove might’ve been produced by flowing lava eons ago. They reached the entrance, and once Pepper had the drone back in its holster, they shifted deeper inside, tucking themselves in by some four meters and now completely shielded by the rock, their heat signatures difficult to spot by the gunship’s cameras.

As the chopper neared, Ross got on his belly and crawled forward until he could see the M113. The chopper’s pilot directed a searchlight across the disabled vehicle, probing it with slow, deliberate movements of the beam. He was probably noting the open hatch but forgetting that his rotor wash was now wiping clean the team’s footprints.

He hovered for what seemed like five, ten minutes before finally breaking off. Ross sighed through a handful of curses, then returned to the others. ‘Everyone all right?’

‘Sir, it’s nearly 2 a.m. now,’ said Pepper. ‘You think we can get down there in forty minutes?’

‘I think we can defy the laws of physics, tell the universe to go to hell, and make this shit happen because we’re the best there is. That’s the way we roll. That’s the way we put our money in the bank.’

‘Hoo-ah, sir,’ said 30K. ‘Let’s do this.’

Pepper shrugged. ‘Still would’ve been nice to drive down there, but you take the good with the bad, and sometimes she ain’t the prettiest girl but she’s the only one in town.’

Kozak shrugged at Ross. ‘What he said.’

They moved out into the darkness.

Exactly thirty-seven minutes later they reached the nearest road running parallel to the port, a main artery that no doubt by day was coursing with traffic. They kept low along the embankment, and Pepper confirmed that the Ocean Cavalier was already in the harbor. Ross spied the terminal through his binoculars. One other container ship was already moored there, and he spotted the second berth where he assumed the Ocean Cavalier would dock.

‘I’ve got a clean signal from the tracker,’ said Kozak. ‘Missiles are still on board, and we’re good to go so far.’

‘I’ve got the safe house marked on our maps,’ said 30K. ‘It’s about eight hundred meters. In your HUDs now.’

Ross examined the wireframe map and the suggested course they should take to reach the apartment building. ‘All right, guys. Camouflage up. Here we go.’

Given the early-morning hour, the streets were mostly deserted, though any late-night pedestrian would’ve only seen a strange distortion in the air near several of the buildings. He would have attributed this to his lack of sleep or dust in his eyes, as alcohol was illegal in Yemen.

A familiar Mercedes van was parked outside the apartment, and Ross noted the licence plate and confirmed that the van belonged to their driver from the airport, one of Naseem’s contacts. They reached the ninth-floor apartment, and before Ross had a chance to knock, the door swung open and the old man, who resembled Merlin, waved them soundlessly inside.

‘You never told us your name,’ Ross said.

‘I’m Oliver,’ he said with his crisp British accent. ‘And I’ve lived in this city for a very long time. This is my home, so please don’t get my rug dirty.’

‘We’ll do our best.’

Oliver waved them through a modestly appointed living room with a bookshelf that covered the entire wall and into a bedroom, where at the window stood an elaborate collection of tripods and telescopes, along with a computer station featuring three twenty-four-inch displays, a veritable cockpit for information gathering.

‘How’d you know we were coming now?’ Ross asked.

‘Diaz told me. And if you don’t mind my saying, you gentlemen are a sodding mess.’

‘We could use a couple of minutes of downtime,’ said Ross. ‘Too bad we don’t have it. You got an observation post on the roof?’

‘I’ll get you the key to get up there.’

‘Kozak? You and 30K, up top. Get the drone ready. Fixed position near the ship. Obviously, I want eyes on those cargo containers as they come off.’

‘What if this ain’t it?’ asked Pepper. ‘What if this ain’t even the port and the container just stays on board? Long-ass night all for nothing, huh?’

‘If this ain’t it, then we keep going,’ said Ross.

Pepper sighed. ‘I knew you were gonna say that.’

‘You think we’re getting too old for this shit?’

Pepper’s eyes widened. ‘Hell, no, sir. I think we’re just developing a better appreciation for the irony of the situation.’

Ross smiled tightly. ‘I agree.’