Maelstrom. Don Pendleton

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Maelstrom - Don Pendleton


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      “Don’t cause any trouble. Just hang tight and keep a low profile. I promise I’ll have you out of there within the hour. In the meantime, give me whatever else you can.”

      “Well, I can tell you this was no ordinary terrorist attack.”

      “How so?”

      “Our friends here had a particular goal in mind. They came with the intent to steal the new prototypes from Stormalite Systems, and that’s just what they did. It didn’t seem like they were interested in taking hostages or murdering innocent civilians.”

      “So they weren’t looking for shock value,” Brognola said. “Go on.”

      “It also seems obvious they knew exactly what they were doing, Hal, and they got away with it. Their tactics were ingenious and unfamiliar. I don’t think I’ve fought against a group quite like this. Very methodical and calculated.”

      “You said there were maybe a dozen or so?”

      “Yes.”

      “Okay, so that means just a small group was trained for this operation. And given they knew what to hit and how to hit it, I’d have to guess very specialized in these kinds of operations. I agree with your assessment. This was no ordinary terrorist attack. This was a military operation.”

      “Or at least an attack by a group well-versed in military tactics,” Price added.

      Kurtzman shook his head with a disbelieving expression. “Mercenaries?”

      “Possibly,” Brognola replied. “It would explain the theft of these prototypes.”

      “Well, I managed to get in a few words with the blokes from Stormalite before reinforcements showed up. Thanks to Cowboy, I managed to glean the inventory that was stolen. I’ve got it here on our transceiver if you want me to send it.”

      “Do it,” Brognola said, nodding at Kurtzman.

      The computer wizard did a one-eighty in his chair through a single motion from his powerful arms and raced over to a communications console. He got to the nearest keyboard, which consisted of nothing but a flat rubber base with soft-touch keys, and quickly entered a fifteen-character alphanumeric code. A moment later tones similar to a fax-modem resounded through the room in bursts. The data transmission took less than thirty seconds.

      “Bear, did you get it all?” Brognola asked when the tones ended.

      Kurtzman checked the large, flat-panel LCD monitor at a nearby workstation and nodded. “You bet. Looks like there’s a full inventory here of everything they had, plus schematics. Very nice work, David. But how did you get all of this in such a short period of time?”

      “I downloaded from one of the engineer’s notebooks.”

      “That’s good work,” Brognola said, and they knew he meant it because the Stony Man chief wasn’t one to toss compliments lightly. “That’s excellent work, as a matter of fact.”

      “So, what do you think this mysterious new group might be planning?” Price asked.

      “I was hoping you might have some ideas about that,” McCarter replied. “We’ve talked among ourselves here about it already, and the consensus seems to be that this group plans to build additional weapons from the prototypes.”

      “Agreed,” Brognola said. “There’s no way this group could do much with the prototypes. While these weapons are powerful, there aren’t enough of them in circulation to be effective during a terrorist operation.”

      “There’s something else we have to consider,” Price said.

      “What’s that?” McCarter asked.

      “Well, it’s possible this group doesn’t plan to use the prototypes at all. Up to this point, we’ve assumed they have some purpose or use with them, but maybe they just stole them and plan to sell to the highest bidder.”

      Brognola nodded. “That would fit more in line with the mercenary theory.”

      “We considered that at our end, and immediately dismissed it,” McCarter replied. “They went to some considerable risk to get these weapons. They had it planned to the last detail. If an outside party hired them, then they gave the group a lot of privileged intelligence. Much more intelligence than I would think such a group would have.”

      “David has a point,” Price said, nodding in agreement.

      “Well, we can sit around on our duffs and debate this for the next ten years, or find out who this group is and what they want. With that information, I think we might have enough to figure out where they’re going.”

      “We’re already working with the Australian security team that was charged with this here. Our contact is a guy named Tad Kornsby. He’s a pretty good chap. Even though the Aussie’s federal agencies are ready to jump in, they’re still hedging until asked for help. Right now, we have to rely on local and state police authorities to investigate and it’s taking them for-bloody-ever.”

      That made sense. The Australian Security Intelligence Organisation was responsible for gathering intelligence and producing information that would alert Australian officials—particularly the Department of Defence—to any threats against national security. However, the ASIO was a last resort, and it was natural that local police agencies, operating under the jurisdiction of South Australia’s Minister of Justice, would want to keep control. This would remain in the hands of state authorities until such time it was determined that this attack was actually a terrorist attack, or that the prototypes had been removed from the country. Thus far, it didn’t sound as if there was any evidence to support either of those scenarios, and so the ASIO would naturally not become involved until such proof surfaced.

      “I’ll see if I can get the President to nudge this up a bit, David. In the meantime, I’ll definitely get you freed up. If this group plans to smuggle those prototypes out of the country, I want to be able to put Phoenix Force on their trail at a moment’s notice.”

      “The sooner, the better, Hal,” McCarter replied.

      Price said, “You mentioned something about an angle you were working with the locals. What’s the story there?”

      “This group attacked us using four-wheelers. They left a few of them behind, so the SA’s Justice Technology Services are going over every inch of them to determine their origin. They also apparently have video surveillance tapes that might have captured pictures of one or more of the players. We’re hoping we can get our hands on them.”

      “You know, Bear,” Brognola interjected, “if any of those tapes have pictures of our people, we’re going to have to make sure they disappear.”

      Kurtzman sighed. “Yeah, and that’s going to take some time. But I’ll get our contacts working on it. I’ll also see if I can glean some information from the tapes once we have them.”

      Brognola nodded, and then said, “We’ll start digging in here and see what kind of intelligence we can get you, David. It’s going to take us a little time, but I’ll make this everyone’s top priority. I’ll also get the Man briefed on your situation there. Expect to hear from me within twelve hours.”

      “I hope we have that much time,” Price said after the call was disconnected.

      Brognola didn’t reply.

      Adelaide, Australia

      JUST AS BROGNOLA promised, federal officials contacted South Australia’s Ministry of Justice. They were ordered to extend all diplomatic courtesies to Phoenix Force, and every member of the team was free to move about the country as necessary. That trouble resolved, Phoenix Force was able to solicit cooperation from men working under Tad Kornsby, and the SAMJ officials assigned to investigate the attack at the demonstration grounds.

      Their first order of business was to view the tapes. David McCarter and Rafael Encizo met up with Kornsby’s second in command, Anthony Halsford,


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