Mando Bk. 02: Good Badass Bitch Ch. 08-09

I examine the photos of the Moroccan compound. "Is the build-up of troops less in the other to compounds?"

"Yes, by half. Therefore, if the VP is taken to Morocco, a different facility would be used for the President, either Turkey or Libya. But look; neither is being built up. You'd expect the reception and security for the President to be at least as much as the VP, right?"

"No doubt. So what's up? They plan to skip the VP in favor of the President and take him to Morocco?"

She shakes her head vigorously. "No. That's just it, Gino. Either Libia or Turkey is the most logical approach since we know the plan. I believe their plan is to nick the VP on the very first day, fly her to the compound in Morocco, make demands and rape her on international TV." She shivers and cringes from disgust. "We, the world, the intelligence community will think that's it. But then comes the idea that the VP's kidnapping is a smoke screen to cause the Secret Service to let down their guard thinking the danger to the President is passed."

"But Danny, is it not? You're suggesting that abducting the VP is a smoke screen to abduct the president and really put the USA to shame by having them both?" I'm shocked. My hands clench into fists. Those bastards.

She nods. "That makes perfect sense. It is a masterstroke." She locks eye contact with me before dropping her megaton bomb. "But that's why they won't do it."

I do a double take. "Excuse me?"

"Gino, the smoke screen may relax the security around the President, but they do not intend to abduct him."

"Then what?" I release my fists and focus.

"Think about it a minute, and the answer will skydive into your mind, I guarantee you."

I consider the options and possibilities a few seconds before it hits me in the head like a jackhammer. A Jill hammer too. "My god, Danny, this is an assassination plan! The combination of humiliating the VP while thumbing their noses at our massive military forces as being impotent topped by the assassination will prove their point. They'll be in charge. All of Islam will look up to them as they did Obama Bin Laden, if not more. Damn!"

"Gino, the problem is the timing. She'll be nipped that night because she is most accessible returning from a late dinner. I would guess between nine and eleven PM. Two days after that the President will be in Rome for a brief meeting with the Pope."

"What's the problem, Danny? That gives us enough time to get there," I try to encourage her.

"No problem if we go immediately after the VP is extracted. If we wait too long, the airports will be closed."

I understand her point. "We need to alert the Secret Service of the possible assassination along with the possible abduction they are already aware of."

She nods. "That could do. The assassins will already be in place, and once in place, it is do or die for them. They won't change plans that late even if they connect us with the botched VP abduction."

I rub my hands together like a poker player getting ready to deal cards from the bottom of the deck. "Right, then. Run a few more scenario puppies and see if we can find one that can hunt better than the one we have."

CHAPTER 9: SAVING THE VICE PRESIDENT

DANNY'S STORY

"Gino, what if the VP is nicked before six PM?�Her worry clouded eyes stare into mine..We would have to go in during daylight.

"That might take a little more planning," I nod. "But everything else is the same. Our plan is for me to run in with the Arabs following the convoy bringing the hostage, or fanatics waiting for the chopper. But you think it will be a Jet from Madrid and convoy to the compound instead of the chopper, right?"

"Right. You're a little tall to fit in with the terrorist groups directly, so we'll get a caftan for you to be a Berber. I have a beard and makeup. Your face and hands must be darkened too."

We hash things over and over until we are satisfied before reviewing the escape plans with our driver, Kammy.

Danny is satisfied. "All right, you guys. I think we have it. I have one more thing to do to nail this plan down; I need to call Shelby at NSA because they're in charge of all major government communication and information systems. That includes satellite cameras, and broadcast feeds."

Danny puts her phone on speaker and dials her private number. "Shelby, this is Mando, how are you?"

"Fine, I was wondering when you would call. I've already started delaying the satellite feed for the compound thirty seconds per hour. We can give you a twelve minute lead before the terrorist watching the screen know you're in the compound. Hopefully, you'll be on your way out. If they delay a couple of hours, you might have more time."

Danny beams. "That is the best news I've heard in a while. Oh! One more thing, Shelby."

"Yes?"

Will that extra time be enough for you to screen out an\y Ariel support we use?"

"Like what?"

"Blimps, blinking Lights dropped in by parachute or weather balloons."

No problem. We may not get them all if theiy'are too close to the people on the ground, but we can block out the blimp and descending parachutes. Some will slip the net, but not enough to call attention to them."

Thank you so much!"

"No problem. But Danny, the feed to the pentagon must be live for many reasons."

"Ok. Do what you must but release the doctorod version to everyone else This is a supper help, Shelby. Thanaks."

"I bet, that and the fact they agreed to pay you had to be good news, too, true?"i

Danny laughs, making her whole body shimmer and shake.. I will never get tired of that sound. "True. Getting paid is a good thing. Thanks for your support."

"No problem. Anything else you need?"

"That's all I need, and you're ahead of me on that. Thanks again for the help, Shelby."

"You bet. She's my VP too, you know," She says and ends the call.

Chuck calls to remind us of the official stance. "Guys, as we discussed, the department of defense can't be officially involved. Like you said, Danny, if we put armed soldiers in that country it will be considered an act of war. This is a black op with complete government deniability. You'll be on your own."

Danny calls her contact within the terrorist group. "I forgot to ask, what demands are we expecting?"

"There are many. Firstly, the US must get out of Iran. If the movement doesn't start within eight hours and if children are with the VP, the youngest child will be beheaded on International TV,"

"Beheading kids?" I mutter. "Not on my watch."

"If progress does not continue, every eight hours a child will be killed, ending with the husband and then the VP. Any persons attempting a rescue will be beheaded with the kids," he ends grimly.

After the call, Kammy slaps Danny's leg, "They just fucked up big time by killing kids. The fools just turned Gino into a massive killing machine."

***

We meet with the CIA agent arranging for our civilian cargo helicopter. It carries our customized extended Light All Terrain jeep used for ambulances equipped with H-harnesses, a massive triangle grill on front with a battering ram for crashing through a stone wall, armored sides and glass, heavy duty shocks, and a powerful engine to push all the extra weight of the armoring and battering ram, plus nine passengers.

The CIA agent briefs us. "The Theodore Roosevelt aircraft carrier is a hundred miles offshore with its destroyers. Take them there."

"Right," Danny agrees, with no intention of taking them where we would be expected to take them. Land to air missiles would make confetti out of our chopper, and make it a military rescue. That's something nobody wants.

He adds, "Our pilot is standing by in the chopper on call."

Danny nods. "Roger that. He must wear Civvies." Danny accepts their pilot because of his experience in evasive maneuvers under fire. Danny and Kammy are both checked out in the cargo chopper, so either one can take over at the first objection the pilot makes to her directions.

***

After dark, we fly low and land sixty miles away from the compound and drive the rest of the way in the all terrain vehickle referred to as an ATV. Our pickup sight is much closer because we'll be riding like fifty US Cavalry troopers being chased by five hundred Apache warriors.

By eight PM Danny settles in the special tree stand sniper platform we set up for her an eighth of a mile from the target site. She has an arsenal of her unique toys, and a video camera with telephoto infrared lenses. All scopes have night vision, and our communication system is set. Kammy is waiting with the camouflaged escape vehicle. She is stoked about crashing through the wall to evacuate the hostages and the possibility of being chased by vehicles mounted with fifty caliber guns. Perhaps a helicopter or two will show up for the party.

Danny and I scope the area with our night vision binoculars to get the lay of the land. She sums it up. "It's exactly as pictured. Our plan holds. Forty-one guards on each side. The package depot is covered by eight of them in front and four on the perimeter. All twelve are armed with AK automatics and machine pistols. Looks like another three fifty soldiers on each side under a cameo-net in addition to at least a thousand in the barracks, and the ten to fifteen thousand outside the compound. There could be another five thousand underground. This is some tight shit. That's about seventeen hundred inside plus the possible five thousand and ten to fifteen thousand outside."

I'll launch the sonic parachutes once you are inside, and then pepper the rest of the compound with puke gas. I'll take out the tower guards when you make your move and give you all the cover I can for your retreat."

We'd agreed beforehand to use code names. I'm Falcon, the Ninja Hawk, Danny is Chief Hawk the boss bird, and Kammy is Phantom Hawk the transporter. Danny gives the Secret Service those names so they and the hostage will know we are allies when we identify ourselves. "

The call we dread comes. "Mando, the VP has just been taken with three kids. The husband and four secret service men were shot and in serious condition."

Danny disconnects. "Show time."

I kiss her on the lips. And prepare to leave. I'm going to the trees and wait to join the band, Chief."

"Godspeed, Grand Master Falcon. Remember, three hostages are children from ten to sixteen. One boy and two girls. Counting the VP, there are four hostages. ."

She said that because she knows kids are my Achilles heel. "Three kids, their mother, and father will all be beheaded with the world watching. The kids must be terrified. If we're caught, Gino, you know they'll behead Kammy and me first and make you watch."

She is laying it on thick to keep me focused and angry. It's working.

***

Six months ago Danny introduced me to throwing knife discs we call saucers, but not the outer space kind. They are like thin, heavy meat slicer blades with carbide tipped razor sharp, saw- teeth and slightly raised ridges like a pinwheel on the flat blade to increase its spin power and maximize the damage it can do. I was in love. They doubled my efficiency. They stack, and pack flat. I can carry ten times more saucers than traditional throwing knives.

I throw them sideways like a Frisbee at more than twice the speed of knives because only one arm movement is required instead of two. They're easy to carry and throw. I have ten packs of twenty each, plus two dozen each of spike darts and throwing knives. My body armor is like Danny's, and she strapped a few guns and two K-Bar knives on my chest over the desert storm battle dress uniforms. She included a small pair of bolt cutters in my side pockets. My gloves are skin tight knit with rough leather fingertips and palms. The padded fingers are for two reasons. One, for protection when throwing the saw blades, and two, for leaving no fingerprints. One print and my cover is blown. Not a particularly desirable outcome.

Twenty-five minutes later I hear a din of noise behind me and see high dust clouds that travelers are kicking up from the dirt road coming toward the compound. It's showtime. Three jeeps with front mounted guns escort an enclosed jeep. That I assume has the hostages. There must be over two hundred soldiers jogging behind the vehicles. My darkened skin, beard, tinted glasses to hide my oriental eyes and the same kind of rifle they have helps me blend in. I slip in behind them after they pass me and hurry to join them. Those boys are so hyped I'm not noticed.

The gate swings open for the vehicles to enter and starts closing right after the last jeep passes through. Rats! I better get to the front, or I'll be locked out. I manage to join the last soldiers going in and stick close to the Jeeps. Danny is ready to tell me what to reply if I am spoken to. I act like I'm with the group hustling the hostage into the studio bunker. I'm blocked from going into the studio, but I make it inside the main building. That's a miracle and all I need.

I whisper to Danny through my earpiece/mic combo. "Looks like the VP and three kids. No, dad."

"Yes, the news said the husband was shot and in critical condition," She replies. I hear the sadness in her voice.

"Get ready. I'll peek around the corner to see how many I'll have to disable before I go in." I peek around the corner and note four guards, and then tell Danny I'm going in. "Launch the sonic bombs, Chief."

"Roger that."

I dispatch the four inside guards in front of the studio with the speed of a ninja and quietly step in. Damn! The camera is already running and the speaker is about to rip the blouse off one of the girls. I see red.

The speaker wears typical Arab attire and has the wild look in his eye of a gung-ho zealot pumped up on adrenaline and blood lust. He looks directly into the camera as he speaks. "This is what will happen to your beloved Vice President. She will be defiled by as many men as want her. Watch her daughter now and know how powerless your massive military machine is to stop your country's leaders and their children from being gang raped, ravaged, and fucked up." He yanks the hood off the girl's head and reaches for her blouse while two men behind her hold her tight and still. Her hands are still tied behind her back. The others' hostages hoods are still on, but I expect the VP's to be removed so she'll see the defilement of her daughter for high drama on the screen. I don't let it get that far.

I whip a spike into each captor's throat and make two giant leaps to put me close enough to the speaker to snap the arrogant rapist fanatic's neck before planting deadly spikes in the two cameramen. Two more men crawl out of the shadows. They draw their pistols and shoot rapidly as they run toward me. The studio is soundproof, so the shots won't alert the others. Bam-Bam-Bam-Bam! Bullets slam into my chest armor, upsetting my balance.. I regain my balance and with one handspring and a leap I am between the two men. My feet spring out straight from my body parallel with the floor and concave two skulls just above the ear. Instant death.

I turn off the camera and rush to the VP and her family.

"I'm Falcon with a rescue team to get you oui of here. I'll remove the hoods, cut your ropes, and give you some gear and so you can go home," I inform them, with a calm voice, making sure not to scare them.

They blink after the hoods come off and rub their hands and ankles from the rope burns.

I give them earphones that act as ear protectors, gas masks, and Kevlar ponchos.

"We'll go through sonic sound burst and gas, so wear everything I just gave you at all times. Check your ear protectors for a tight fit. Follow me and stay in line. If you get out of line, you might get shot by our sniper shooting the guards. If I tell you to get down, fall flat on your face immediately and hug the ground until I say move. You'll hear instructions through your earphones, but do not respond to information that is not for you. If you get hurt, don't cry out or scream. That will bring the guards on us like ugly on a gorilla. Madam VP, you follow me, then the kids, youngest first, oldest last." The three kids are wide-eyed and frightened too much to talk. They swallow hard and breathe in gasps.

Madam VP's jaw is set below a pair of angry eyes and tight lips. "Let's do it." I admire her courage. She's a strong woman.

I spit words fast in a stern voice. "We are out numbered, outgunned, and out of time. Follow my lead. The gas made the guards sick, but we'll be facing a lot who aren't. I'll go cut the overhead wires and come back for you. Be ready in the doorway. Your job is simple; follow instructions from the sniper and me and stay alive. If you try to second guess us or run out on your own, you die." My warning is cruel but real.

"Wait here for two minutes while I clear the way." I hustle out to the front, dispatch six guards and start tossing puke-gas canisters around the on each side of the area we will go. I give Danny a signal. "Shoot live rounds and more gas, Chief."

"Roger that. Sonic sound burst is inbound."

I open the door to the studio; four faces covered with gas masks and headdresses from the fallen men look like frightened rabbits. "Showtime. Keep the mask and ear covers on tight, or you'll get sick. Join hands and follow me. VP first, oldest kid last. Let's go!"

Danny dispatches the tower guards, and the rest are puking or holding their ears, or both. Some still manage to get off wild shots, but the hostages remain unscathed for another minute.

"Falcon, I'll kill the searchlight now but that will alert the hordes on the perimeter." She orders.

"Wait until the last possible second so we can get as close to the wall as we can."

"Too late, Falcon. A flare -- no two flairs went up. I'll get the light while you haul ass!"

"Roger that."

When she shoots the spotlight the light seems to be sucked into the housing. I welcome the darkness that blankets us as we run.

Danny is peppering the ground and loose wires around the barracks with gas canisters that bounce and rattle, hissing out their poison. She fires implosion missiles inside the barracks and bunkers in rapid succession. The noise is muffled by bodies and the stone walls of the buildings.

I hear the muffled booms, screams, and then more screams as panicked soldiers run into the razor wire and their death. The supersonic sound waves are causing confusion and pandemonium. It's almost impossible to think when assaulted by those sounds. Prolonged exposure can rupture blood vesicles in the brain causing a stroke and death.

"Ninja and Phantom, this is Chief Hawk. Time for phantom to rock and roll and make that hole. Hostages, dive into the jeep and slam the doors behind you." Danny is focused on the mission. The position of Commanding Officer suits her well. She knows what she's doing.

"Falcon and Phantom keep straight. Falcon, the hole will be ten yards to your left."

We are running hunched over to the right of her crash site. We're almost there when a guard gets off a wild shot and hits the VP. The Kevlar slows the bullet down, but the near proximity gives the bullet enough of a push to punch a hole and bury itself about half an inch in her liver. She grabs her chest and I grab her.

I yell. "Run, Guys! Follow me!"

BAM! The Phantom crashes into the wall and plows through far enough to make the back doors accessible. I jerk the door open behind Kammy and push the VP onto the seat before telling the kids to get in.

Larry, the twelve-year-old boy, takes a bullet in the left calf during his dive onto the Jeep's floor. He falls short. His oldest sister pushes him the rest of the way in, shouting, "go, go, go! I've got you!" She jumps in behind him and slams the door.

I yelled to Kammy. "GO! Phantom, GO! I'll keep these creeps off the jeep!"