Lethal Risk. Don Pendleton
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rel="nofollow" href="#ulink_17fa7472-605e-57bb-9c7c-43930b8f4c92">CHAPTER FOUR
“Jesus H…” Hal Brognola tilted his head back and let the breath he’d been holding out in a long, steady stream. “Nearly scratched the whole op before it even started. That would have been embarrassing as hell.”
Just because the US government had forbidden Stony Man from assisting its man on the ground didn’t mean they weren’t going to keep an eye on him. Using a network of satellites orbiting the globe, the Farm could pinpoint Bolan’s exact location within a five-minute window. The satellite imagery was so crystal clear that they could read magazine print over someone’s shoulder if they had to.
Stony Man Farm had some of the most advanced technology in the world, including specialized computers used to advance weapons the likes of which the US military could only dream about, and yet all of that was worthless because of the parameters of their current mission.
Brognola and Price were standing in the Computer Room behind Aaron Kurtzman and Akira Tokaido, members of Stony Man’s top-notch cyber team. Kurtzman, a burly, bearded man confined to a wheelchair, had a no-nonsense attitude that could rival Brognola’s on a bad day. Tokaido was a laid-back twenty-something Japanese American who lived and breathed the twenty-first-century computing systems he worked with. They could do things with a computer that Price and Brognola could only dream about. But right now, they couldn’t do the one thing the mission controller desperately wanted to happen—somehow reach out through the monitors and wireless signals and burst transmissions to help Mack Bolan.
That was one of the worst things about being the mission controller: having to sit there, safe and sound, in a comfortable room in the United States and watch good men risk their lives fighting against the very worst kind of evil, whether it be terrorists, dictators or even the countless spying eyes of an entire nation’s government, as was happening right in front of her.
And the worst part was that if something went wrong, there wasn’t much Price could do about it. Sure, she could bring in reinforcements—usually—but that didn’t take away the agony of waiting and wondering if they were going to come out alive this time.
And the mingled anticipation and dread of knowing that the next time, they might not. While Price was an expert at weighing the risks and rewards of any given mission, the fact remained that although she didn’t look as if she was ever reacting to any of the various Stony Man operations around the world, the truth was that they always affected her, from the moment they began until the moment they ended.
But she was a professional, and the men who undertook missions for Stony Man were counting on her to do her job, which she took a lot of pride in doing very well. And she would be damned if she let them down even once—even if she had been specifically ordered not to assist.
Right now her lips were pressed tightly together and her arms folded across her chest as she watched Bolan evade the armed guards at the city checkpoint. “And why didn’t we know about these increased security measures?”
Tokaido brought up a two-week-old news article on his thirty-five-inch monitor. “Because there are no accompanying pictures with the data. The article simply stated that specially trained police officers had been assigned to the checkpoints around Beijing. We had no idea they were sending the equivalent of Chinese SWAT team members to stand around and check cars.”
Price nodded, although she would have made someone’s head roll if this had been a critical mistake. It sounded as though there simply hadn’t been a reason to follow up on a relatively innocuous bit of intel. Once again, she was reminded of the hazards of accepting things at face value, particularly when an item in question was on the other side of the world.
“This is flat-out ridiculous, Hal,” she said. “There must be something more we can do from here.”
As she spoke, Price noticed Kurtzman and Tokaido exchange a swift glance before returning their attentions to their stations.
“And that would be what?” Brognola popped two antacid tablets. “I can’t even joke about packing someone inside his suitcase, because he didn’t take one. When I say our hands are tied, our hands are tied.”
The two cyber wizards glanced at each other again and Price sighed. “What? If either one of you has anything pertinent to add to this conversation, now’s the time.”
Tokaido swept back his long hair before replying. “Well, China is one of the most heavily surveilled nations on Earth—”
“Yeah, behind only the US and maybe England,” Kurtzman added.
“Regardless, it is technically feasible to hack their systems and search for a particular face or build. It would even be possible to track said target’s movements throughout the city, allowing us to keep an eye on his movements and interactions.”
“Great, so we can see him get caught by the MSS or the military. There must be something more we can give him from here,” Price said. “Chinese hackers are battering at our firewalls every day. Surely you guys can do more than just get us a look through some cameras?”
Again the two men exchanged glances, then Kurtzman pushed his wheelchair back from his station and turned to face her. “Are you sure you want to continue down this path, Barb? We all know what the orders from Washington stated. So, what exactly would you like us to do?”
Price stared at the bearded computer genius for a few seconds, evaluating him and his question. It sounded as though he was trying to get her to drop it, but he was regarding her with a frank, open stare. She was pretty sure she knew what he was asking, but she had to kick the decision upstairs—in this case, to the man in the rumpled shirt standing next to her, before she could find out.
“Hal?”
He regarded her with a gimlet stare. “You’re the mission controller, Barb. How do you want to proceed?”
“We’re already providing data assistance as the situation develops. I want Bear and Akira to provide whatever mission-critical assistance they can to Striker without being detected.” She waited to see if either Brognola or Kurtzman had picked up on the discrepancy in the two sentences.
“Given the mission parameters, are we providing standard electronic antidetection?” Kurtzman asked. He was referring to the standard erasure that happened during stealth and infiltration missions, where the Stony Man cyber team removed all evidence that their operatives had been on site—altering vehicle logs, looping or deleting surveillance camera footage, deleting fingerprints on file or mug shots where necessary.
That was the lifeline Price needed. She grabbed it. “Yes, especially on this mission. Of course, you both will need to balance that aspect of this op with the mission-critical assistance.”
Kurtzman nodded, the hint of a smile playing around his lips. “Of course we will.”
Brognola held his gaze on Price a few seconds longer, then swiveled his head to look at Kurtzman and Tokaido. “You both heard the lady.”
The computer genius nodded once. “Understood. Now, if you’ll both excuse us—” he wheeled around to face his glowing bank of monitors “—we have work to do.”
“You will, of course, update us on the mission’s status as appropriate?” the big Fed asked.
“Of course. We always do,” Kurtzman replied without looking at him.
“Come on, let’s leave them to their work.” Price turned and headed toward the door, pausing there to make sure he was following her.
Outside, Brognola made sure to close the door to the Computer Room before turning to her. “Did what I think just happened in there happen?”
“That depends. And if you’d prefer to not get an answer you may not like, I’d suggest you not ask the question leading to it.”
“Barbara, you know I’m not against bending the rules when I think the circumstances warrant it.”
“And