CHAPTER
EIGHTEEN
The landing strip near
Inverness was barely long enough for the small Cessna to land properly.
The single engine plane hit the tarmac once bounced back up in the air, leveled
and bounced again several times before settling on the asphalt not too far from
the end of the runway. As it turned around and headed back Mai-Li could
see the little terminal building with its control tower, several small planes
parked around it. As they reached their parking space a military Land
Rover
came
racing by screeching to a halt by the side
of the small plane.
The young pilot fetched his
lone passenger’s backpack as Mai-Li stepped off the plane and was met by a
rugged looking individual in military fatigues and a black beret.
“I’m with Harley,” the man
stated, taking the backpack from the pilot. He shoved it in the back and
led Mai-Li to the seat next to him. The door-less Jeep was covered with mud,
Mai-Li getting all smeared as she climbed into the passenger seat.
The ride was one Mai-Li would
never forget.
Harley’s man put the running
vehicle into gear and roared off. Then, forgetting something, he made a
hairy U-turn and screeched by the pilot once more.
“One week,” he shouted and the
pilot nodded. Then they were off again to a ride that made the Cessna
flight seem like a joy ride. They climbed the steep narrow dirt roads
through thick forest and bleak moorlands, passing creeks and rock faces as if
they were riding a horse. Mai-Li held on tight watching her driver
concentrate, shifting gears and looking hard through the muddy windshield,
driving at impossible speeds across the terrain.
They arrived at the training
grounds an hour and a half later, Mai-Li offering a silent prayer. She guessed
it was the campsite because the Jeep had stopped and the driver declared they
had arrived, but she could see neither people, nor structures of any
kind. They were in a small clearing surrounded by thick vegetation with
what seemed like small footpaths leading into the woods. A minute later
Harley appeared out of the bushes flanked by a bald, mean-looking sergeant on
one side and a tall fit-looking woman on the other.
“Jimmy, get lost,” Harley said
to the driver who reached for Mai-Li’s backpack and flung it on the
ground. Mai-Li was barely off the Jeep when it took off, splashing
mud.
“Welcome to paradise,” Harley
said. “Hope Jimmy left some food in your belly. He’s a rough one, the old
fox…”
Mai-Li tried to balance
herself on the muddy ground but slipped just as Harley reached her. He
grabbed her hand and stopped her fall, reaching with his other around her waist
and
swooping
her up with little effort.
He put her down gently on a
patch of relatively dry ground and turned to introduce his companions.
“This is Sergeant O’Leary,” he
said to the embarrassed but grateful Mai-Li, “AKA ‘Lizard’ or ‘Lizzy’, known to
be able to change his color to fit any terrain.”
Mai-Li stared hesitantly at
the bald-headed trooper who acknowledged her with a slight nod, his face
remaining blank.
“Alwyn, here,” Harley
continued turning to the striking woman, “Ali for
short,
keeps us boys in top shape and since she is the only woman within forty miles
of here, you’ll share her quarters.”
The physical conditioning
instructor smiled. “Welcome,” was all she said.
“To business,” Harley went
on. “The team has been briefed and has already
began
training. The reason you’re here is to assist putting in place the
intelligence profile of the target area and the site.”
Mai-Li nodded.
“For security reasons you will
meet only essential personnel. I would like to minimize your exposure to
the team. The less you take away with you, the safer my team remains.
Is that clear?”
Mai-Li nodded again.
“So far you’ve met myself,
O’Leary, Ali, and Jimmy the driver. You’ll meet several others including
two or three intelligence people and that’s it. Any contact with me or
anyone else will be strictly through O’Leary or Ali. I’m asking you not
to wander around anymore than is needed to go from your quarters to the
Intelligence bunker and back and don’t be alarmed at strange noises in the
night. You’ll eat in your room and in the Intelligence bunker.
Any questions?”
“Can I talk with the outside
world?”
“There’s everything you need
in the Intelligence bunker. Secure phone lines, faxes,
teleprinters
, you name it. You’re free to use any equipment
as long as you do not, under any circumstances, mention where you are or what
you are involved in.”
“How long will you need me?”
“No more than a week
here. I expect you’ll play some role in the actual insertion but we still
need to consider that.”
“Understood,” Mai-Li said.
“One final thought,” Harley added.
“I’ve allowed you here without any formal security clearance. You will be
exposed to extremely sensitive material as well as observe innovative
operational tactics and maneuvers. I personally trust you and admire your
cause but any breach of this confidence will cause great damage to us and to
our respective countries and organizations. So whatever you learn here,
Mai-Li, you take to your grave.”
His gray eyes became steel
when he said those final words and Mai-Li knew he would act upon it even if it
meant taking her own life. Whether she liked it or not, she just walked in on a
crowd that held its members accountable for life. She would walk the
Earth a thorn in their side, one of a chosen few who could expose their great
secret.
The responsibility suddenly
weighed heavy on her shoulders. She met Harley’s gaze and bent to pick up
her backpack. Ali motioned for her to follow and the two women
disappeared along the muddy trail among the dense vegetation.
“You take good care of her,
Sergeant,” Harley said.
“I will, Sir,” O’Leary
replied, eyeing his commander.
“Don’t you look at me like
that,” Harley said to his long time SAS companion. “It’s for a good
cause.”
“It certainly is, Sir.”
“Then
what?
Why are you smiling?” Harley asked the bald
sergeant who never smiled.
“Attractive
lady,
isn't she, Sir?” the sergeant observed. “She’s got under your skin.”
Harley sighed. “She’s a
classy lady, Liz.
Looks fragile, but with as much
brains and balls as anyone here.
I’d let her join this outfit in a
flash.”
“Pretty too,” added the
sergeant, but Harley went on as if he did not hear the comment. “Anyone
willing to take on this Lambda-B organization is tough enough for me.”
“Think we can stop them?” the
sergeant remarked.
“We may stop them and a few
others but never this ghastly trend. Children are a delicate lot,
exploited since the beginning of time. Whatever we accomplish here is a
drop in the sea. This will always go on.”
“Best get back to the men,”
the sergeant suggested seeing Harley’s precarious mood. “They should be
ready for weapon inspection and the night exercise brief.”
“I reckon we should,” Harley
said as if waking out of a trance. He suddenly looked worn and
tired.
“The enemy team in
place?” Harley asked breaking the silence, as the two men walked through
the forest.
“They will be by 1900 hours,
Sir,” O’Leary answered confidently.
“Who’s in charge?”
“Mike Devlin.”
“How many people does he
have?”
“Ten. One for each entrance,
three on each guard tower, two guarding the prison cell, and three
patrolling.”
“I’d like you to show Mai-Li
the venue from the overhead camera before we commence.”
“Aye,
aye, Sir.”
“Also, introduce her to
Mike. I’d like the two of them to compare notes.”
“Will do, sir,” O’Leary acknowledged,
increasing his pace. The teams were waiting. He would get there for
weapon inspection and hustle them into the briefing hut where Harley would show
up to address them.
Ali’s bunk was all wood,
immersed in the forest, hardly noticeable from twenty feet away. It was
comfortable, extremely plain with the fundamental necessities, and no womanly
extras. It was a single room with an attached restroom and shower, a
small fireplace, a heavy oak table with two matching chairs, a narrow bed, and
an oak closet. Ali had put up a few nature portraits on the bare walls
and had a couple of photographs on a small nightstand by her bed alongside a
tiny make-up kit.
A folding field bed with a
foam mattress and a military sleeping bag had been erected on the opposite wall
across the oak table from where Ali slept. Ali pointed to it and Mai-Li
flung her backpack on the floor next to it and sat heavily on the bed.
Ali stood a minute looking at
her, hands on her hips. Dressed in red training attire, running shoes and
matching climber’s jacket, she looked fit and very attractive. She was
tall, at least six feet, with an athletic, perfectly balanced slender body,
long legs and broad shoulders. Her blonde hair was cut short and there
was a boyish look about her, her face a dash freckled, her blue eyes sparkling,
with an irresistible grin across her golden, well-proportioned face.
“Not your average king size at
the Ritz, but it’s all we have,” she said apologetically.
“I’ve never been to the Ritz,”
Mai-Li said.
“Well I have, and this here is
plenty better for body and soul.”
“A trifle isolated for my
taste,” Mai-Li observed. “Have you been here long?”
“Been here for quite a while,”
Ali said noncommittally.
“They treat you OK?”
Mai-Li asked, pointing back towards the men.
“Like a queen,” Ali said,
smiling.
“And you don’t miss the
company of women, city life?”
“Yeah, I miss women
sometimes,” Ali said after a pause.
“City life, not at
all.
I come from a rural upbringing and never really lived in a
big city so this suits me fine. Mind you, we do move around quite a bit
so I get to see places.”
Ali stripped to her under
garments, thin knickers and a sports bra, fetched a towel from the closet and
went for the shower. Her smooth white body did not have an ounce of extra
fat, Mai-Li noticed. Ali was lean yet powerful, she moved like a cat, her
stomach muscles well aligned and prominent, her hands and legs long and strong.
Thinking of her own thin,
susceptible body, comparing it to the specimen in front of her, Mai-Li sighed,
partly to herself: “I need to get myself in shape.” Ali glanced at
her and smiled as she entered the bathroom.
Mai-Li began arranging her
belongings in the closet when there was a knock on the door. Ali stepped
out of the shower, dripping wet, wrapped in a towel barely covering her
features, and opened the door. Sergeant Lizzy O’Leary, his face a blank,
addressed the women, as if they were trainees on the parade grounds.
“Mai-Li needs to be at
Intelligence at 2200 hours. Ali, you get her there,
then
come see me. Understood?”
Ali nodded. The sergeant did
an about face and left. The two women looked at each other, and
smiled.
The Intelligence bunker was a
hub of TV screens, computer displays, maps, communication and electronic
equipment amassed along its walls producing a constant low hum as the
operatives manning them talked in hushed, calm voices.
Harley, standing over a
subordinate, involved in deep conversation pointing at several of the screens,
detached himself after several long minutes and walked over to Mai-Li who stood
quietly in awe after Ali had dropped her off.
As if on cue, the two involved
operators who it did not hear her enter, turned to look and stood up as Harley
walked over with Mai-Li.
“Lieutenant Brian Copeland,”
Harley said, introducing a springy redheaded aide, who seemed to be eager to
get back to whatever he was doing, his shirt pocket overflowing with pens,
pencils and markers.
“He is the Jester,” Harley
added.
“As you can see, always jumpy.”
Copeland, restlessly shuffling
his feet, smiled, and offered his hand.
“Pleasure,” he said and turned
to look at one of the screens.”
Harley was also
watching.
“Devlin’s almost there,” he
remarked. Harley nodded.
“Corporal Evans,” Harley
turned, introducing a very thin, lanky soldier with a beard and round,
wired-rimmed glasses who bowed and took Mai-Li’s small hand in both his huge
palms.
“Long-John at your service,”
the corporal said, winked and quickly turned to the screens.