Terror Trail. Don Pendleton

      CHAPTER ONE

      Oval Office

      Washington, D.C.

      “Is your man up to this?” the President of the United States asked.

       Hal Brognola, the director of the Sensitive Operations Group, understood the question. The President was asking through genuine concern. The SOG was ultimately the man’s responsibility. Stony Man, the ultrasecret covert-operations group, ultimately came under the President’s purview. He alone knew of its existence, understood and accepted what it had to do and gave his blessing.

       Stony Man operations were off the books. In many cases they might have been deemed illegal, because to get the job done the SOG operatives needed to bend, twist and often totally ignore the rules. The missions, aimed at combating enemies of the U.S.A., were not conducted against saintly, reasonable individuals. There were no opportunities for sit-down discussions, no openings for compromise. When faced with ruthless threats and out-and-out terrorism, Stony Man responded with the instinctive reactions of a mother lion protecting her cubs. In this instance they were hitting back against enemies who wanted nothing less than to inflict death and suffering on the citizens of the U.S.A.; in the past Phoenix Force and Able Team had encountered insidious plots aimed at bringing terror and destruction to America. Stepping up to the firing line was the SOG’s mission objective. They accepted that mandate without question. The President understood and was eternally grateful to his small, exceptionally courageous teams.

       Which was why he asked the question.

       “Is your man up to this?”

       “Yes, Mr. President. In fact he was the first to volunteer when the subject came up.” Brognola allowed a brief smile. “I believe he was ready to fight anyone who tried to talk him out of it.”

       The President sighed, leaning back in his seat behind his Oval Office desk.

       “This is different from a full team effort,” he said. “One man in a foreign environment, surrounded by people hell-bent on some violent mission, and the only backup miles away if anything goes wrong.”

       “We don’t have much of a choice here, Mr. President. The background we have on Hand of Allah is damn thin. So thin we’re having to go this route. Right now all we have is some electronic chatter. Couple of cell phone snatches.”

       “Yes, I know, Hal. Don’t forget I was the one who passed it along to you because it was so thin. Have your people managed to pick up any more data?”

       “The cyber team have been on it around the clock. Hand of Allah is pretty low-profile. Up until now the group has been considered little more than a bunch of talkers, not doers. If they are planning something drastic they’ve decided to hold back from advertising it too much. The Stony Man cyber team have been monitoring every source they have. Luckily for us they came across some loose chatter about Hand of Allah planning a strike against the U.S., by setting loose its martyrs on the streets. Looks like someone got excited over the prospect and had to broadcast it.”

       “We were lucky to get what information we did, Hal. That gossip tied in with our other break. Information from a Yemeni national working undercover for the CIA. Behin Jahir is the one who came up with solid evidence that Hand of Allah is planning something. And he gave us the name of the group’s facilitator here in America.”

       “Shaia Kerim. Kurtzman’s team worked up his profile and it’s given us a way in.”

       “What would help is also identifying the Hand of Allah leader,” the President said. “Unusual for one of these people to stay invisible. They normally want to step into the spotlight. Just so they can tell us who they are and why we’ll never catch them.

       “A shy terrorist,” Brognola said. “Maybe he’s creating a new trend.”

       “What’s the next move?”

       “Able Team has been briefed on what we have here. I’m going to cut them loose and let them work on that. The rest of Phoenix Force will follow up with Behin. Go to Yemen.”

       “I hope we’re not sending a man to his death, Hal. Alone in the enemy camp. It’s a risky exercise. Maybe too risky to expect it to succeed.”

       “Mr. President, if anyone can pull this off it’s Calvin James.”

       “I hope you’re right, Hal. If anything happens to that boy, I’ll have a hard time forgiving myself.”

       “You and me both, Mr. President. You and me both.”

      War Room

      Stony Man Farm

      “I STILL THINK IT’S crazy,” T. J. Hawkins said.

       “I’m not all that pleased with the idea myself,” David McCarter added.

       “Nobody said it was perfect,” Calvin James pointed out, “but since no one can come up with a better idea, I say we go with it.”

       “Cal, I hate to bring this up again, but you could be putting yourself in harm’s way,” Brognola said.

       “I understand. Look, every time we head out on a mission we’re doing just that. Risk is what we live with. Five or one, it makes no difference.”

       “In a team you have backup, close and personal,” Rafael Encizo argued.

       “I know that. And a bullet could still find me with all you guys around.”

       “Still a risk,” Barbara Price said. “A big risk.”

       “What’s the alternative?” James said. “Go in like the heavy mob and blow the chance of picking up the intel we need? We need pinpoint information. Shaia Kerim is the only name we have belonging to Hand of Allah. He’s the point man. The only other detail that’s come to light is they have a working plan to put their people on U.S. streets. Right now, according to Behin Jahir, Hand of Allah is somewhere in the Yemeni desert. A training camp. We need to locate it because that’s where this planned strike is being masterminded. Rest of the information is so skinny you can see through it. So we need someone to get close to harden up our knowledge. That’s me.”

       This was their third roundtable meeting on James’s proposed undercover mission, and the concern of his Phoenix Force teammates was the reason for the ongoing discussion.

       “Remind me again why you?” Aaron Kurtzman asked from his wheelchair on the opposite side of the conference table. He was directly across from James, his intense gaze centered on the Phoenix Force warrior. “Why not any of the others?”

       “One, I’m black and thus more likely to be accepted by the Muslim community. I also speak French. We know Kerim speaks the language, so we have something in common.” James paused. “And face it, brother, I’m the only one around this table who is really cool.”

       McCarter raised his hands in surrender. “Well, that bloody does it for me. He’s cocky enough to pull this off.” The Brit leaned over and slapped James on the shoulder. “Be nice to the rest of us and maybe we’ll be around to cover your back.”

       “No question there,” Brognola said. “You guys will be ready to jump in once Cal blows the time-out whistle.”

       “You’ve got that,” Hawkins said.

       “Aaron, can you push on with that character file for Cal? Give him a life so that if anyone does some electronic trawling he’ll exist,” McCarter said.

      * * *

      STONY MAN WANTED Shaia Kerim to believe he was safe, that his association with Hand of Allah was not known by anyone outside the group. The fact he was an active member had been carefully guarded, and he continued to operate under a false sense of security because the Stony Man team had decided to allow it to happen while they built their case, infiltrating Hand of Allah so they could take