Target Omega

CHAPTER TWENTY

Garin stood in the pantry of the bunker, sipping his second cup of strong black coffee and waiting for the caffeine to work its magic. He’d spent much of the night thinking about what was happening and who was behind it. When he had finally crawled into his sleeping bag, he had planned on taking a brief nap before heading to upstate New York in the morning, but the effects of the Pakistan op and the previous day’s events conspired to keep him asleep past noon, and when he rose, he was much stiffer than he’d been the day before.

The rest, however, was beneficial. His energy level was good and his mind clear. Joe had recommended that Garin use the old Burns family farm in Spencer, New York, as his base of operations. Joe had grown up there, but after his parents died, he and his four siblings, who had dispersed across the country, used it only occasionally as a family vacation home. Because the property had been held in trust under the name Craigy-Creek Farms for nearly two decades after probate of their parents’ estate, there was no paper trail connecting the place to the Burnses. They allowed a local farmer, an old family friend, to grow corn on a portion of the land in return for performing the odd maintenance job. Since Garin had no connection to the place, no one, including the FBI, would ever think to look for him there. Garin decided it was perfect.

Katy came into the pantry and gave him a bear hug. She seemed in good spirits given the circumstances.

“Michael, you gotta tell me, how in the world did you build this place? I mean, setting aside the whole idea that anyone would ever need something like this, it’s amazing you did it by yourself.”

“I didn’t.”

Katy looked slightly puzzled. “But I thought you told Joe that no one knows about it.”

“No one does.”

“Okay, wise guy, stop it.”

“Pop helped me. More accurately, I helped Pop. He worked on it almost nonstop for nearly two years. I helped him when I could between deployments. The cabin above already had a cellar. We made it a little larger and Pop did most of the rest. He finished it less than a year before he died.”

Katy had a faint smile of wonderment on her face. “I saw him every day. I would go over to the house to fix sandwiches, his favorite soups, do laundry. I had no idea. He never said a thing.”

“I guess when you go through the kinds of things he went through, you know how to keep things to yourself. In many respects, this place was his idea. My old boss used to say guys like us needed to be able to disappear at a moment’s notice. But he was talking about holing up in some fleabag motel in Tangier or Bangkok. Pop said if people can see you — even people who don’t know you — your enemies can and will find you.”

Katy shook her head, still trying to comprehend how her grandfather could have kept a project like this secret from her. “That tough old SOB. So when he died, no one else besides you knew the place existed.”

“To tell you the truth, I’m not sure I ever expected to use it. It was more a security blanket than anything else. I’d come up here every once in a while — usually when I was in town to visit you — and do a little upkeep. But it was mainly out of respect for all the work Pop put into it, not because I actually thought I had to keep it ready for action.”

Garin led Katy back into the main room, where Joe and the kids were wrestling on the floor. Upon seeing Uncle Mike, the kids ran over and performed their ritual of hugging his legs.

“Before I go, just a few things you should know. The temperature stays pretty constant, but if you need to run some fresh air through, just turn on the air for a few minutes, preferably at night. The exhaust is under the porch so no one should see it, but don’t take any chances.”

Joe held up his hands. “Mike, not going outside is going to be tough, especially for the kids.”

“I know, but people do it all the time — subs, air raid shelters. That doesn’t make it any easier, but you’ll adjust. Now, if you feel you absolutely must get out or you’ll kill each other, do it at dusk. The park closes at nine P.M. Heck, I’ve never seen anyone anywhere near this place, but to be safe, we have to presume someone is looking for us in the park and that they’re using all of the resources at their disposal. Thermal, drones, nightscopes, the works.”

“Thermal? Drones? Are you serious?” Joe sounded incredulous.

Garin chose his words carefully in front of the kids. “Taking out my team was the work of extremely serious, sophisticated people who are involved in something extremely big. They will spare no resource.”

For the first time since last night, both Katy and Joe had worried looks on their faces, as the gravity of the situation continued to sink in. Garin tried to reassure them.

“Look, I’m not without resources either, and they’re very good. When I get to Spencer, I’ll begin putting them in motion. I know you don’t think it can be done in a few days, but believe me, it can.

“Joe, in the locker I showed you last night there’s a bunch of cell phones with prepaid minutes. Don’t use them unless you’ve been discovered. Don’t even turn them on. They’re programmed to call only one number. That number will bounce the call all over before relaying it to me. Wherever I am in the world, you’ll be able to reach me.”

“But what if you need to reach us?” Joe asked.

Garin thought for a moment. “Turn on the phone for five minutes at six A.M. every day. If I need to reach you, I’ll call then. You know what, I’ll call then anyway just to check in. Otherwise keep the phone off unless you must call me.”

“What if you don’t call at six?”

Garin remained silent. Joe understood.

Garin bent down to hug the kids good-bye and then gave Katy a kiss. He shook Joe’s hand and, before climbing up the stairs, whispered, “I know you’ll take care of my sister and the kids, Sergeant Major. Just try not to scare the living hell out of the bad guys.”