"Charlie, you can't stop them all," the expert said sadly. "You can be ten feet away with a loaded weapon in your hands, and sometimes you can't take action, because to do so would only get more hostages killed. I'm as sickened by that murder as you are, my friend, but these people won't be doing any more of that."
"Well, thanks for coming in. Bill Henriksen, president of Global Security and a consultant to ABC on terrorism. It's forty-six minutes after the hour." Cut to commercial.
In his desk he had Bill's beeper number. This he called, keying in his private line. Four minutes later, the phone rang.
"Yeah, John, what is it?" There was street noise on the cellular phone. Henriksen must have been outside the ABC studio, just off Central Park West, probably walking to his car.
"Bill, I need to see you in my office ASAP. Can you come right down?"
"Sure. Give me twenty minutes."
Henriksen had a clicker to get into the building's garage, and access to one of the reserved spaces. He walked into the office eighteen minutes after the call.
"What gives?"
"Caught you on TV this morning."
"They always call me in on this stuff," Henriksen said. "Great job taking the bastards down, least from what the TV footage showed. I'll get the rest of it."
"Oh?"
"Yeah, I have the right contacts. The video they released was edited down quite a bit. My people'll get all the tapes from the Spanish-it isn't classified in any way-for analysis."
"Watch this," John told him, flipping his office TV to the VCR and running the released tape of Worldpark. Then he had to rise and switch to the cassette of Vienna. Thirty seconds of that and then Bern. "So, what do you think?"
"The same team on all three?" Henriksen wondered aloud. "Sure does look like it-but who the hell are they?"
"You know who Popov is, right?"
Bill nodded. "Yeah, the KGB guy you found. Is he the guy who twigged to this?"
"Yep." A nod. "Less than an hour ago, he was in here to show me these tapes. It worries him. Does it worry you?"
The former FBI agent grimaced. "Not sure. I'd want to know more about them first."
"Can you find out?"
This time he shrugged. "I can talk to some contacts, rattle a few bushes. Thing is, if there is a really black special-ops team out there, I should have known about it already. I mean, I've got the contacts throughout the business. What about you?"
"I can probably try a few things, quietly. Probably mask it as plain curiosity."
"Okay, I can check around. What else did Popov say to you?"
"He wants to know why I'm having him do the things."
"That's the problem with spooks. They like to know things. I mean, he's thinking, what if he starts a mission and one of the subjects gets taken alive. Very often they sing like fucking canaries once they're in custody, John. If one fingers him, he could be in the shitter. Unlikely, I admit, but possible, and spooks are trained to be cautious."
"What if we have to take him out?"
Another grimace. "You want to be careful doing that, in case he's left a package with a friend somewhere. No telling if he has, but I'd have to assume he's done it. Like I said, they're trained to be cautious. This operation is not without its dangers, John. We knew that going in. How close are we to having the technical-"
"Very close. The test program is moving along nicely Another month or so and we'll know all we need to know."
"Well, all I have to do is get the contract for Sydney I'm flying down tomorrow. These incidents won't hurt."
"Who will you be working with?"
"The Aussies have their own SAS. It's supposed to be small-pretty well-trained, but short on the newest hardware. That's the hook I plan to use. I got what they need, at cost," Henriksen emphasized. "Run that tape again, the one of the Spanish job," he said.
John rose from his desk, inserted the tape, and rewound it back to the beginning of the released TV coverage. It showed the assault team zip-lining down from the helicopter.
"Shit, I missed that!" the expert admitted.
"What?"
"We need to have the tape enhanced, but that doesn't look like a police chopper. It's a Sikorsky H-G0."
"So, the -60 has never been certified for civilian use. See how it's got POLICE painted on the side? That's a civilian application. It isn't a police chopper, John. It's military… and if this is a refueling probe," he said, pointing, "then it's a special-ops bird. That means U.S. Air Force, man. That also tells us where these people are based-"
"Where?"
"England. The Air Force has a special-ops wing based in Europe, part in Germany, part in England… MH-60K, I think the designation of the chopper is, made for combat search-and-rescue and getting people into special places to do special things. Hey, your friend Popov is right. There is a special bunch of people handling these things, and they've got American support at least, maybe a lot more. Thing is, who the hell are they?"
"It's important?"
"Potentially, yes. What if the Aussies call them in to help out on the job I'm trying to get, John" That could screw up the whole thing."
