One Rough Man - Brad Taylor [11]
He paused to let that sink in, then continued. “Now, obviously, Azzam getting material for a dirty bomb isn’t something we can allow, so things have sped up a bit. We can’t be sure he’ll return to Jordan with the material, so we have to stop him before he gets it, which is where you come in.”
I didn’t have to be told why we were the ones who were going to Tbilisi instead of the team in Jordan. The cover plan used by Johnny’s team, the same cover plan that we were going to fall in on, was specifically built for that region of the world, down to a particular commercial sector in a specific city. The cover wouldn’t transfer to Tbilisi without a significant chance of compromise.
“What’s our status in Tbilisi? We’ve all been prepped for Jordan.”
Blaine answered, “Alias shop is working that now. Luckily, we had built a plan for Tbilisi, so we just need to dust it off. Your new documents will be ready by the time you fly.”
Knuckles spoke up. “What sort of support package can we expect? We haven’t done any infrastructure development in Tbilisi. Seems we’re going to be running the ragged edge on this.”
“Believe it or not, we’re sitting pretty good. We began some preliminary infrastructure development on Azzam’s first trip to Tbilisi as a precaution, so we aren’t starting from ground zero. The support team that was flying to Jordan tonight will divert to Tbilisi. You’ll have a complete package.”
I cut to the chase, asking the question on everyone’s mind. “Are we at Omega now?”
Kurt said, “No, not officially. Since the target’s changed location, I have to brief the Oversight Council tomorrow, but I can’t wait on their approval to get your team moving. Worst case, I should have an answer before you land. Given the ramifications of what he’s trying to do, I see no issue.”
The Taskforce called each stage of an operation a different Greek letter, starting with Alpha for the initial introduction of forces. Being at Omega—the last letter in the Greek alphabet, symbolizing the end—meant we were ready to execute the mission. The missions themselves could take anywhere from three months to a year. Getting to Omega was hard work, with an enormous infrastructure behind it. There were generally three or four different missions canceled for every one that made it to Omega. It was the crown jewel of our profession, the gold at the end of the rainbow.
“Good enough,” I said. “When do we leave?”
Kurt said, “Well, your team’ll be flying with the support package tonight, along with Blaine. The flight plan’s already been filed, so a few extra people won’t cause a spike. You, however, will deploy on Monday, as scheduled.” He grinned. “Don’t worry, you’ll get the leave I promised.”
I heard what he said, my face betraying the struggle going on inside. Kurt noticed my discomfort but didn’t ask for my opinion. “Okay, before I turn it over to Blaine, remember, we don’t have execute authority on this. I expect it but don’t have it yet. Don’t go Rambo on me.”
7
It would have made things a hell of a lot easier if Kurt had simply ordered me to go. Now I would have to make a choice about whether to leave the team on the night they deployed, or abandon my family after I had promised I would be home for my daughter’s birthday. Nothing was more important to me than Heather and Angie, but as the team leader the mission took priority. It was an impossible choice.
My deployment was nothing new for my family. I had married Heather after I was accepted into the Special Mission Unit on Fort Bragg, so she was used to frequent absences. Even so, leaving is like twisting a knife each time I do it, especially now that Angie is old enough to know I’m gone. Our last night together before the culmination exercise hadn’t been a very good one.
I had been out grilling steaks when I heard a thump inside the house, like something had crashed. I went inside to find Heather staring at the thermostat on the wall, clearly upset. I asked her what