Blood Trust - Eric van Lustbader [96]
Thatë nodded. “All too briefly. I was made. I had to get the fuck out of there.”
“Tail between your legs.” Paull nodded. “No wonder you’re so hot to go back there.”
“How many men?” Jack asked, to ease the tension.
“Twenty to twenty-five.” Thatë shrugged. “His is a decentralized system, like the Muslim terrorists. The bulk of his men are deployed, some in other countries arranging deals, receiving payments, or overseeing smuggling shipments. The cadre in and around the stronghold are personal bodyguards, the fiercest fighters.”
“The Praetorian Guard,” Paull muttered.
An owl hooted and there was a flurry of wings overhead, a soft cry, and then a small spray of blood as the owl carried off its prey.
“A fantastic hunter, the owl,” Thatë said. “Its wings make no sound. That’s how we will be.” He indicated Paull with his chin. “Did your people give you a way in?”
Paull nodded, spread out the plastic-covered map, and lit it up with a penlight. The beam was powerful but didn’t spread. He traced the path with his finger. Xhafa’s stronghold was in the northeastern section of Tetovo, at the summit of a small rise.
“Do you have a problem with this section of the route?” Paull’s voice was a challenge.
Thatë shook his head.
“The stronghold itself,” Jack began.
“It’s a stone structure of approximately fifty-two-hundred square feet,” Paull said before the kid could answer. Once again, he was showing off the expertise of the American clandestine services. “No basement because in that area the bedrock is so hard it’s apparently not worth the effort. There are two entrances, front and rear, and, here, on the west side, is what appears to be a soccer field, presumably to help keep the men in shape when they aren’t on a killing spree.”
“The intel comes from satellite imaging.” Jack looked at Thatë. “Accurate?”
“Oh, it’s accurate,” the kid said, and Paull looked smug. “As far as it goes.”
Paull scowled. “Meaning?”
“Xhafa’s stronghold is actually a school. The soccer field is for the students.”
“Sonuvabitch.”
“It gets worse,” Thatë said. “The students are orphans. They live there.”
Another silence settled over the group. They stared through the trees at the lights of Tetovo. Somewhere out there Xhafa and his men were waiting for them.
“Well, that neutralizes our rockets and other middle-range weaponry,” Paull said sourly.
“Not necessarily,” Alli interjected.
They all turned to stare at her.
“We’ve got to get the children out of the school,” she said.
“One of us needs to come up with a real plan,” Paull said, pointedly ignoring her.
Jack held up a hand. “Wait a minute, Alli may be on to something.”
“Have you lost your mind?”
Jack busied himself clearing away debris and drawing a map for himself in the dirt. Because he himself was drawing it, he could better visualize the terrain and how to navigate it. He stared at what he had created for some minutes.
“What if we split up into two groups? Dennis, you and I and Alli will form a traditional frontal assault.”
“But Xhafa will be expecting that,” Thatë said.
“Precisely,” Jack said. “But what we’ll put up won’t be an assault at all. It will be a diversion under cover of which, Thatë, you and your men will silently take out the rear guard, infiltrate the schoolhouse, round up the kids, and herd them out of there. Once the building’s clear, we can move in on both fronts.”
Paull rubbed his chin. “It sounds good.”
“Yeah, except it won’t work.” Thatë looked at them. “The kids are taught to be scared shitless of anyone who isn’t in Xhafa’s cadre. They’ll never willingly come with us.”
“They might,” Alli said, “if they see me.”
Jack reacted immediately. “Now just a minute—!”
“No.” Thatë was nodding vigorously. “Alli’s got it locked in. She doesn’t look all that much older than the students, who range more or less from eight to seventeen. When they see her with us, they’re likely not to bolt, especially if she talks to them.”
“I don’t speak Macedonian,” Alli said.
“No problem. The older students speak English. They’ll translate