Tom Clancy's op-center_ acts of war - Tom Clancy [83]
Mahmoud spoke to Hasan, who translated.
"Mahmoud wishes you to talk," Hasan said.
Rodgers looked at Mahmoud. Some of the anger had left his face, which was good. Rodgers wanted to keep things slow and chatty, give Op-Center time to receive and decode the message. He also wanted to buy time for them to turn a satellite on the ROC if they hadn't already. And he suspected that if he told them some of what the ROC could do, they wouldn't imagine that it could do more--such as access highly secure computers in Washington. If the terrorists learned the full capabilities of the ROC, national security and undercover lives would be compromised. And dodgers would have no choice but to get to either keyboard and hit Control, Alt, Del, and Cap "F"--fry the facility, whatever the cost.
"This is a United States surveillance facility," Rodgers said. "We listen to radio communications."
As Hasan explained to Mahmoud, Rodgers felt Pupshaw squirm.
"General, let them kill us instead," the Striker whispered.
"Quiet," Rodgers reprimanded him.
Hasan turned back to Rodgers. "Mahmoud wishes to know if you knew about the work we did today."
"No," Rodgers said. "This is the first time our facility has been used. We're still working on it."
Hasan translated. Mahmoud spoke and pointed to the small satellite dish.
"Can you send a message from here?" Hasan asked.
"A satellite message?" Rodgers asked hopefully.
"Yes. Yes, we can."
"Computer messages as well as voice messages?" Hasan inquired.
Rodgers nodded. If Mahmoud saw the ROC as his personal megaphone, so much the better. Op-Center could keep track of them by watching or listening to them.
Mahmoud smiled and said something to Ibrahim. Ibrahim answered confidently. Mahmoud spoke again, and this time Ibrahim put his other arm around Mary Rose's chest and pulled her from the van.
"What are you doing?" Mary Rose asked fearfully. "General! General--"
"Leave her alone!" Rodgers demanded. "We're doing what you want!"
He began hopping forward. "If you want someone, take me," he said.
Hasan held him back. Rodgers grabbed the Syrian's hair, but couldn't keep his balance. Hasan threw him down into the nearest battery well. Sondra reached out to help Rodgers, but he waved her away. If anyone was going to get knocked around, he wanted it to be him. She sat on the edge of the well.
"I have treated you well!" Hasan shouted. He spat in the general's face. "Animal! You don't deserve it!"
"Bring her back," Rodgers snarled at Hasan. "I'm doing what you asked."
"Be silent!"
"No!" Rodgers shot back. "I thought we had an agreement."
Mahmoud walked over and pointed the gun down at Rodgers. The Syrian's face was impassive as he spoke to Hasan.
Hasan ran his fingers through his hair. "You angered me for nothing, Mr. Rambo," he said. "Ibrahim is taking the woman to the Turk's motorcycle. He will follow us at a distance. Mahmoud has ordered that you use these computers to turn off the satellite. If we are stopped, her eyes will be cut out and she will be left in the desert."
Rodgers swore at himself. He'd blundered into this and made an enemy of Hasan. He had to step back and try to think logically.
Hasan pulled Rodgers up and threw him into the free chair by the computer station. As he did, Mahmoud spoke.
"Mahmoud says you have wasted too much time," Hasan told him. "We want to see this van from a satellite."
Rodgers shook his head. "We don't have that capaci--"
Mahmoud turned and kicked Sondra in the face. She had seen the boot coming and rolled with it, lessening the impact. It spilled her onto her side, but she sat up again quickly, defiantly.
Rodgers felt the kick as well. It had punted logic into a remote end zone. He looked at Hasan. "You tell Mahmoud that if he touches one of my people again, he will get nothing, ever."
Mahmoud spoke hurriedly to Hasan.
"Mahmoud says he will beat her to death unless you obtain the capacity we requested," Hasan replied.
"You