High Alert

CHAPTER 46

Haltman's compound was on the coast of northern California, not far from the town of Fort Bragg. There were no soldiers stationed in Fort Bragg. There had never even been a fort, only a military outpost built before the Civil War and named for its commander, Braxton Bragg. Bragg had gone on to become a general in the Confederate Army. After the war, the garrison had been abandoned.

The town was a thriving tourist destination in the summer because of its location on the Pacific Ocean. During the winter months, it was the kind of place where they rolled up the sidewalks after six at night.

Selena talked Harker into letting her go along on the mission, even though she couldn't take part in the assault on Haltman's estate. Her role was confined to communications support. As a last resort, she was limited backup. You didn't have to have two good legs in order to pull a trigger.

The Project operations center was located in what had once been the central magazine of the old Nike missile installation. The room contained a conference table, a coffee station, and a refrigerator stocked with snacks, sodas and water. A large whiteboard and a seventy-two inch, plasma screen monitor on the wall rounded out the furniture.

"Freddie," Nick said.

Yes, Nick?

"Please put the satellite shot of Haltman's compound on the monitor."

Do you mean display the photograph? I do not have the physical capabilities to put it on the monitor.

Nick sighed. "Yes, Freddie, display it."

Haltman's home was on a high point looking out over the Pacific. At the base of the point, waves smashed against a narrow, rocky beach. It was a sheer drop, with no way down to it from the house. Even if there had been, it wasn't the kind of beach you picked to get a tan. One road led in to the estate, a blacktop drive accessed from Highway 101, the main north-south route along the coast.

The drive passed through two checkpoints. The first barrier was a chain-link fence that surrounded the property. Anyone coming up the drive had to stop at a double gate and request entry through an intercom. The next checkpoint was farther in, at a high stone wall with a manned guardhouse and another, heavier gate. From there the drive continued through trees and landscaping, terminating in a wide circle in front of the house.

The house was a ten thousand square foot designer home with a cedar shake roof, redwood siding, walls of glass, and lots of river stone accents. A wide flagstone patio on the ocean side featured a large fire pit and a full-sized swimming pool.

A long, multi-car garage was set a short distance away from the house. Beyond that was another building, quarters for household staff and the security guards. A large dog run and kennels were discreetly tucked away behind the garage. Two dogs could be seen in the photograph. There were probably more.

"Quite a spread he's got there," Ronnie said.

"How big is it?" Selena asked.

The area included in Haltman's estate is slightly more than seven hundred acres.

"Nice if you can get it," Lamont said.

"The outer fence is to keep the riffraff out," Nick said. "It doesn't look like much, but I'll bet he's got it wired."

"It'll be patrolled," Ronnie said. "We're going to have to do a little recon. See if they have a regular rotation."

Nick took out a laser pointer and clicked it on. He put the dot on the stone wall.

"That could be a problem," he said. "It's high. Razor wire along the top."

"I hate that stuff," Lamont said. "I always get cut when we have to go through it. What about the dogs?"

"They'll be running free inside that wall," Ronnie said.

Nick moved the laser to the kennels. "Freddie, zoom in on the kennels."

The image closed in on the dog run. Inside the run, a large, bearded man was leaning down to talk to the two dogs. He had an MP-5 slung under his arm.

"Dobermans," Ronnie said. "Clipped ears. Those aren't household pets."

"We'll drug them. We can't risk it with the guards, though. We'll have to take them out."

"They're Americans," Selena said. "Do we have to kill them?"

"They're working for a really bad man," Nick said. "Haltman isn't going to hire nice guys to work for him. They knew the risk when they signed on. See that MP-5 the guy in the kennel is carrying? Nobody carries one of those unless they know how to use it. Haltman's security is professional. Mercenaries."

"How many of them are there?" Selena asked.

"Hard to tell. It's a lot of property."

Nick moved the laser dot over by the garage.

"They've got ATVs to get around. I'd be surprised if they use them at night."

"What do you think?" Ronnie asked. "Three shifts, maybe four men each?"

"At least. Maybe more. That's too much ground to cover for a couple of men out walking around. There have to be cameras. Maybe laser trip alarms and ground sensors. Someone will be inside watching all that and handling communications between the individual units."

"They could be relying on the dogs and the technology," Selena said. "If they have the kind of set up you're talking about, why would they need people all over the place? Four on a shift could handle it. One for the guardhouse, one to monitor everything, and two for walking around. At night, they probably stick to the inner compound. If you're right about three shifts, that leaves eight off duty. An alarm would bring them all out. Plenty of backup."

"Good point, but we have to assume there are more."

"What's the plan, Kemo Sabe?" Ronnie asked.

"It's a long way to the house if we go through the fence and over the wall. High risk of triggering an alarm."

"What about from the beach?" Lamont asked.

"I don't think it's possible," Nick said. "Look at those waves smashing against the base of the point and swirling around. There will be strong rip currents. Even if we could get a footing, the cliff face is a good hundred and fifty feet high."

"What's the back of the house look like?" Ronnie asked.

"Freddie, do we have pictures of the back of the house?"

Yes, Nick.

"Show them to us."

The back of the house was almost a solid wall of glass. Drapes were pulled across some of the windows. Several sets of sliding doors opened onto the patio. A wooden fence about three feet high ran along the edge of the cliff.

Nick studied the pictures. "We could come through the woods on the right, then drop down below the edge of the cliff before we reach the perimeter fence."

"And?" Ronnie said.

"Work our way past the fence and the end of the wall and come up on the ocean side. That's the most vulnerable point. The cliff has to give them a false sense of security. They'll be relying on the wall and alarms to keep everyone out of the front and sides."

In the photographs it looked as though it might be possible to climb horizontally along the face of the cliff below ground level, then come up over the patio near the end of the swimming pool. It wouldn't be an easy climb. The face of the cliff appeared soft, ready to crumble. A fall meant death on the rocks below.

"The idea is pretty good except for one thing," Ronnie said.

Nick had known Ronnie a long time. The two of them were still alive because they trusted each other.

"What's bothering you?"

"The look of that cliff. It's more dirt than rock. I don't think it's going to hold us. There's too much moisture. Look at the photo. You can see the erosion and lots of plants growing on it."

They all looked at the photograph.

"I lived on the coast most of my life," Selena said. "Ronnie's right. People are always getting hurt or killed when they get too close to the edge of one of these. The ground just crumbles away under their feet."

"Okay," Nick said. "What's Plan B?"

"Maybe we've been thinking about this all wrong," Ronnie said. "Like you said, it's a long way to the house through the grounds. We're worried about alarms giving away the game. Ground sensors, lasers, stuff like that, right?"

"Right."

"So why not just drop in on him?"

"An air drop?"

"We could land on that patio. It's plenty big enough. We make a night drop from a few thousand feet and glide right in. Everything they have assumes someone comes through the grounds. They won't expect trouble from above."

"I like it," Lamont said. "No razor wire."