Tom Clancy's op-centre_ mirror image - Tom Clancy [88]
"That's fear, " Liz had said. "I asked about shared fear. Think about it. Take your time."
He had, and then he'd said, "I guess we share fear because it's caused by something that threatens us all, as opposed to courage, which comes from the individual."
He'd been naive and Liz had let it go. Now, after three missions, Squires had come to understand that shared fear wasn't something to overcome. It was a mutual support system that turned people of disparate backgrounds and intellects and interests into a single, bonded organism. It was what made the crew of a World War II bomber or a police squad car or an elite commando force closer than a husband and wife could ever be. It was what made a whole greater than the sum of its parts.
As much as patriotism and valor, shared fear was the glue that held Striker together.
Squires was about to tackle Seeing the World as a motivation when Mike Rodgers called on the secure TAC-Sat. Squires was instantly out of his reverie and, as his old soccer coach used to put it, "There with the goods.
"Charlie," Rodgers said, "sorry it's taken so long to get to you. We've been going over your game plan and we're really going to need World Cup performance on this one. In just over eleven hours, having stayed out of Russian airspace until the last possible moment, your team will parachute to a point in Russia just west of Khabarovsk. Bob is giving your pilot the flight plan and coordinates-- and we hope that the Il-76T buys him enough time to get in and out before Russian air defenses realize it's not one of their own aircraft. Your target is a four-car-plus-engine train of the Trans-Siberian express. If the cargo is narcotics, currency, gold, or weapons, you're to eliminate them. If the weapons are nuclear, get us proof and disable them if you can. Sergeant Grey has the training for that. Any questions so far?"
"Yes, sir," Squires said. "If the Hermitage is involved, they could be shipping art. Do you want us blowing up Renoirs and Van Goghs?"
The line was silent for a moment. "No. Photograph and disengage."
"Yes, sir."
Rodgers continued, "Your target area is a one hundred-eleven-foot-tall cliff overlooking the track. The appropriate topographic maps will be sent to your computer. You'll rappel down and wait for the train. We chose that area because there are trees or rocks from the cliff face that you can use to block the track. We'd prefer that to using explosives that may cause casualties. If the train is running on time, you'll only have about an hour before it arrives. If it's running late, you'll have to wait. This one can't get away, though you're to make every effort not to hurt any Russian soldiers."
Squires wasn't surprised by the warning: ambassadors hated having to explain illegal incursions, let alone what the CIA called "maximal demotions." Though Squires was well trained to kill with everything from a shoelace to an Uzi, he had never had to do it-- and he hoped he never did.
"The Il-76T will have gone to Hokkaido for refueling and then return," Rodgers said, "though it will not be your extraction vehicle. When you've completed your mission, you'll signal the Il-76T and go to the rendezvous point, the southern side of a bridge one-point-three miles west of the target."
Now, that was intriguing, Squires thought. The only reason Rodgers wouldn't tell him about the extraction craft was in case they were captured. He didn't want the Russians to know. As if the mission itself weren't stimulating enough, the mystery sent another part of Squires's motivation into overdrive. The part that, like almost every male he had ever known, loved flashy, secretive, state-of the-art hardware.
"Charlie, this one isn't like North Korea," Rodgers said. There was more friend than general in his voice. Now that he'd had Squires's undivided attention while he laid out the specifics, he was ready to give him the overview. "We've reason to believe that elements in Russia