Mando B. 03: General Badass

MANDO 3: GENERAL BADASS

Chapter 6: Terrorist in Fairfax

Gino's Story

Danny and I are putting the moves on each other that will lead us to the bedroom. Kammy is away for training, so we're free to play. But just as our feet cross the bedroom's threshold the Chuck phone sings the ABC song. Danny answers. "Yes, Chuck?"

She puts the call on the speaker. "Star Hawk?"

He's not using the right code name, Mando or Chief Hawk. Something is up. We hear someone speaking Arabic in the background.

"Yes, this is Star, what can I help you with?" She plays along.

"Star, me in Muslim trouble. An army of the Right Hand of Allah guys is here." He used the word army of the Right hand of Allah to imply they are armed.

"Where are you and what do they want?"

"I'm home in Fairfax. They want you."

"I'm flattered," she says in a monotone. "What's the situation?"

"They will trade my wife for you. You come, and Jane goes to visit her mother in Atlanta. You don't come, she dies.    Boss, without her I'm dead." Danny knows Chuck's wife's name is Anne, not Jane, and her mother died five years ago. Translation: Anne is in Atlanta. They don't have her. They intend to kill him no matter what.

"Will they follow through?"

"That's what they say. All this has my mind's running from here to China. Yes, they will do what they say." Danny's eyes search mine under arched eyebrows.

I nod and mouth the word, "run." He wants us to get far away. He thinks we'd be safe in China.

She hears more Arabic.

"Let's have an ID check, Chuck. What's my number?" How many terrorists are with you?

"Seven." She holds up eight fingers to me. Seven plus one. Whatever number he gives will be one short.

"What's my outside code name?" (How many are outside the house?)

"Zip." Don't know.

"What's my hawk name?"

"Five Star Hawk." He replies quickly.

"And?"

"Falcon Hawk." Listening to the exchange is intriguing. She just asked him who else they are after and he tells her it's me. Clever.

"Yes, that is correct. Let me talk to the one in charge."

He comes on the line. "Yeah! You the Boss Murderer?"

She replies in Arabic. "The first name's right, but my family name is different from yours."

"You insolent pig! You come now, or both man and woman die. You hearing me, swine?"

We're up and moving. Danny is talking while walking briskly to her armory. "Come where?"

"You will come to this FBI shit head's house alone unarmed. No tricks or this FBI puke and his wife die. WE'LL SHOW YOU WHAT WE DO TO THOSE WHO OPPOSE ALLAH!" His words would terrify any civilian. Good thing Danny isn't one.

"If I come, then what?" She asks calmly, not allowing her nerves to take over.

"We have a camera. We'll lop off your head for the world to see."

"What's your problem; do you have pig brains? THINK! Why would I care if your FBI hostage and wife lives or dies? They're not family."

He pauses. "He's your friend. You come, or he dies."

"I'll think about it." We are donning our armor and strapping up.

"No stalling! You've got five minutes. Five minutes; you hearing my words?"

"Yes, I hear you. You want an answer in five minutes or... what?"

"They die, you arrogant infidel."

"You're smarter than that. You won't waste valuable collateral like the high ranking FBI agent he is.    Even without me, you'll be top dog when you take him home or announce that you have him, and you know it. We both know you can't lose either way."

"Five minutes!" He slams the phone down.

"Good stalls, Danny. You gave Chuck enough value. I hope they'll keep him alive until we show up. Now what?" I await her instructions.

"They are predictable, Gino. They will stick to the original plan no matter what they say. He could be already dead. Let's choose our transport. Chopper, auto or bike?"

"With the auto, we can stall longer because of traffic, but bikes will give us the element of surprise if you can talk on the phone." I calculate the best option out loud to get her feedback and input.

She nods in agreement. "My helmet has a voice-activated phone system. Yours too. I'll hook you in so you can hear the chatter."

We arm ourselves and hurry to the garage. After we review the James Bond type specialized equipment on the Ducati 1098s capable of a road burning speed of 169 MPH, we straddle the speed demons and light out for Fairfax, Va.

The terrorist calls Danny and screams, "Your five minutes are up!"

"Who am I talking to?" She doesn't give him the satisfaction of an emotional response.

"Abud, You coming?"

"Two situations, Abud. First, your price is too low. I'm worth more than a wife and husband. You know that. You have three Americans you say are with the CIA, two Mossad officers and eight civilian hostages. Release Chuck, his wife, and those people and I'll trade. The exchange can take place at the US Embassy. Call me back when you have it arranged."

He launches into another screaming tirade, and Danny patiently lets him rant and rave. When he finishes with: "Why would we do that?" She calmly replies. "I can think of fifteen thousand reasons plus two big ones you fucked up on international TV.    I'll wait for your call."

"You fuck with me, and I'll kill your FBI vermin right now!" He yells.

"Count the cost first," she reminds him calmly. "You'll have to replace him with someone of equal value if you want me." She hangs up while he is still screaming.

I am impressed. The battle veteran doesn't back down and knows when and how to bluff.

We are zipping through traffic eating up the middle line and fire lane.

"How much longer?" I ask her.

"Seven minutes. You know the drill. You go in the front door, and I take a side window."

"Will he be trying to arrange those things?" I have been wondering about it since the end of the conversation.

"Yes, but the leader will agree only to show them, not release them. Abud wants us to see them so we'll walk into his trap." I silently agree with her.

"You've spoken to Chuck and verified he's alive, but what prevents them from killing him now and wait to grab us?"

"Nothing. Even after losing thousands of soldiers, the fools still think they can hold us. We are getting close, so put on your game face."

I set my mind for battle. Chuck has been my friend for over twenty years. If he is alive when we get there, I'll do everything within my power to keep him alive. But if he's dead, my miracle hands won't help. I have bad vibes about this.    I get the impression he's dead or will be upon our arrival.

***

We pull off at a gas station. "I'll drive by for a recon," she says and speeds off. As I wait, I reflect on the fact that this will be the first time I've used firearms outside of practice.

She returns and coasts to a stop right beside me. "Two vans, each half full of men carrying grease guns."

"Grease guns?" I look at her with curious eyes, unsure of what that is.

"Automatic pistols. They'll have a transfer vehicle close by to switch the hostage to. We both have trackers to make finding us easy for the FBI if they take us." She thinks of everything.

"Plan?"

"Toss puke gas canisters in the open door or window of the vans. Wear our mini-mask. You take the van close to the door, and I'll take the other. Whip in and goose your mount to go up a couple of steps. Fire the gas rockets as you enter. Ready?"

I nod.

Her phone buzzes. After glancing at the caller ID she lets it buzz a second time before answering.

"Hawk puke?" A firm, mocking voice asks.

"I'm listening, you heartless terrorist."

"Our people will release the persons you want within half an hour. The spies are in Oman, and the hostages are close enough we can bring them all at once."

"Great. Send a picture of the hostages assembled, and we'll have someone pick them up. Let me talk to Chuck," she demands.

"We've given in enough to your capitalist demands."

"Let me talk to Chuck." She narrows her eyes. Her persistence is unstoppable.

"You've already spoken with him." I don't like where the conversation is going. My heart fists at the thought of being too late to save Chuck.

"Very well. Just use your phone and take a short video of him waiving or something."

"You want too much, swine. We have given enough!" He spits at her.

"Abud, is this your way of saying the man is dead?"

"Come see." He barks out a short spiteful laugh.

"Send photos of the assembled prisoners with today's newspaper and I'll notify the Embassy to collect them. When they are safe, I will come."

"No. the exchange will be simultaneous at the waterfront warehouse at the east oil docks in Oman."

"The warehouse is fine, but forget the simultaneous exchange. I won't come until the hostages are safe." She ends the call.

"Will they bring the prisoners, Danny?" I ask.

"They may show them to us to flush us out," she tells me. "All I want is them in the open air. Our Seals will make short work of the guards."

"Do we wait for the hostages' rescue before we go straight in, or do we go now?"

"If we keep them off the phone with Abud once we arrive they'll get the hostages to the turnover point. No one will know Abud's crew is down.

She speed-dials the CIA Deputy Director.

"Sir, Mando here. This is a red alert emergency." The tone of her voice is formal and grim. "Chuck, my FBI handler is a hostage in his home in Fairfax by the Right Hand of Allah. I am the ransom demanded in exchange for Chuck and his wife. In exchange, I demanded the release of three CIA operatives, two Mossad operatives, and eight US hostages. Get someone there ASAP."

"Where?"

"At the waterfront warehouse at the east oil docks in Oman. I expect them to show the hostages. Once I see them, they will hustle them back in the van or warehouse and hold them instead of releasing them. I suggest you send enough personnel to take all hostages once they're shown. Getting them out in the open for extraction was the purpose of those demands."

"Understood."

"I spoke with Chuck as proof of life," Danny continues. "He used code to give me information. There are eight armed terrorists in his home, and I expect twice that many in vans outside. He was alone when they came. Abud, the leader, said they will kill Chuck if I don't show."  She gives emphasis to her words with a brief pause.

"However, sir, once he proved Chuck was alive by having him talk to me, they no longer needed him. The chance of him being alive or staying alive once I show up is slim. I am going in now. The hostages in Oman are preparing for travel. With any luck, a US destroyer is in port for supplies or fuel." She's done explaining.

"Destroyers don't draw supplies in Arab countries, only the MSC supply ships manned by merchant marine sailors do that, and they're not armed. We'll find someone close by."

"Do I have authority to use lethal force?"

He doesn't hesitate. "Absolutely. Use lethal force when necessary,"

"Thank you, sir. I do not know who to notify at the FBI of the abduction, will you do that, sir? They should come immediately. This is a red priority, sir. International terrorists are operating on our soil, and they will behead Chuck and the video will be on their website within minutes. Hurry, sir. Questions?"

"I've seen your work, Mando. No questions, so go!" He understands the urgency and wastes neither time nor words. He's gone.

We mount our steel steeds and put on our game faces. "Showtime, Falcon." She circles the block to come in from the other side.

END CHAPTER SIX