The Sniper and the Wolf

65

Pope kept one eye on the satellite feed while he spoke on the phone with Mark Vance, ex — Delta Force operator and CEO of the private military company Obsidian Optio. Obsidian deployed private mercenaries around the world, protecting various governmental and corporate interests. Chief among those interests were some of the world’s most vulnerable petroleum processing facilities. Gil was on Obsidian’s books as an employee but only as cover for a double hit he had carried out on two Al Qaeda terrorists in Morocco the year before.

“You say he’s where?” Vance asked.

“Just over the Georgian border into Russia,” Pope replied. “The Georgians are refusing to violate Russian airspace to pull him and his Spetsnaz partner out. So I need your people to fly in there and get them.”

“What about the Russians?” Vance said. “If the other guy is Spetsnaz, why don’t they pull them out?”

“It’s political,” Pope said. “Putin is making a point that I don’t have time to explain.”

“Well, Christ, Bob, we can’t violate Russian airspace.”

“You’ve got your own helos in Georgia that you’re using to patrol the BTC pipeline,” Pope said. “All you have to do is send a couple of them north for an hour or so and pull my guys out. Keep them close to the ground, and Russian radar will never even know they’re there.”

“Bob, that’s just not something we can do,” Vance insisted. “We can’t violate a country’s airspace like that.”

“You violated Brazilian airspace six months ago when your op to eliminate Joaquín Silva went bad.”

“That wasn’t us!” Vance said, obviously shocked by Pope’s knowledge of the operation. “And I resent the implication, Bob! Goddamnit! We’re on a telephone here!”

“It was you,” Pope said, his voice rising, “and I have the proof. Now, are you going to help me out, or I am going to share that proof with Brasília? I understand you’re about to sign one hell of an account with Telemar communications.” Telemar Participações, a $48 billion Brazilian telecommunications company, was the country’s third largest corporation. “It’d be a shame,” Pope said, “if the Brazilian government prevented that deal from going through.”

“Damn you, that’s blackmail!” Vance growled.

“It’s business,” Pope said icily. “And in case you haven’t gotten the news yet, I’ve just been appointed director of the CIA. So if you plan on continuing to do business with me, you’d better find a couple of pilots who know something about flying snake-and-nape, because I’ve got two men in the Valley of the Shadow badly in need of extraction!”

Vance was quiet for a long moment. “So you’re the head motherfucker in charge now,” he grumbled.

“That’s right,” Pope said. “And I understand you’ve got a Killer Egg stashed east of Tbilisi. You’d better send that along in support of the evac. It’s likely to be a hot EZ.” Killer Egg was the nickname for a Boeing AH-6 Little Bird helicopter, heavily armed with rockets and Gatling guns.

“You know entirely too much about our operations,” Vance said. “How many of your people do you having working on the inside?”

“Are you going to get on the phone to your people in Tbilisi or not?” Pope said. “Time is running out for my men.”

“I’ll pull them out,” Vance growled, “but you can bet your ass I’ll be expecting a quid pro quo one day. This could cost us a helluva lot if it goes bad.”

“That’s why it’s so important,” Pope said. “I’ll have Midori call you immediately with the coordinates and the rest of the particulars.”

Pope hung up and called Midori, telling her what he wanted. Then he called the president at the Pentagon. “Mr. President, I’ve arranged for evac. You don’t have to bother with the Georgians anymore.”

“Who the hell did you get, Bob?”

“Obsidian Optio.”

“Obsidian! How in hell did you get Vance to agree to it?”

“I twisted his arm, Mr. President.”

“How’d you — never mind!” the president said. “I don’t want to know. Let’s just hope they get there in time.”