Chapter 55

 

Branford, Connecticut

8:35 p.m.

 

A grove of pines hid the farmhouse from neighboring properties. They couldn’t have chosen a more ideal location for a transfer point, Mako thought. At this time of year, none of the nearby cottages were occupied. This deserted farm, with its flat acreage and close proximity to the Interstate, was currently locked up in a drawn-out court battle.

Mako and his people only planned to use it for a couple of hours.

The small house sat within sight of an old pier with pilings deep enough to easily accommodate the eight-foot draft of the submersible. Behind the house and some sixty yards toward the woods was an airstrip, overrun with weeds and grass from disuse. Still, it was long enough to allow the landing and takeoff of a twin-engine turboprop. That was all they needed.

Everything moved according to plan. Everyone knew what they had to do.

Mako glanced at his watch and then looked up to see the fishing boat moving away from the dock. Her running lights flickered on the water in front of her. Behind her, she was towing the unmanned and submerged forty-foot DSRV that had brought them to shore from Hartford. The submersible was simply being returned to the vicinity of the oil rig on Long Island Sound, where it had originally been taken from.

The oil rig was still on fire. Mako’s demolitions man had packed the rescue vehicle with explosives. Once the fishing boat’s tow line was cut and some distance was put between the two vessels, the submersible would self-destruct, joining the fate of its mother facility.

Mako turned around as one of the engines of the Beech 1900 aircraft came to life. The lights were on under the wings of the craft. A couple of the crew members closed the cargo bay on the plane. All the equipment was loaded. Mako turned around, looking for Kilo. He was standing in the spotlight of the plane, against an old station wagon by the garage. He had his back to Mako and appeared to be talking on his cell phone.

Mako motioned to his crew to board the plane. His sharp gaze swept over the moonlit property, checking for any mistakes, anything left behind. They’d stayed out of the farmhouse, so that wasn’t a concern.

Kilo ended the call and headed in Mako’s direction.

“We’re ready to go,” Mako said.

“I have to go separately.”

“What’s the matter?”

“The phone call.” Kilo looked at the plane as the second engine started up. “Three survivors have been taken off Hartford.”

“I didn’t hear any of that. That information didn’t come over our satellite channels.” Mako had the de-encryption for all of Pittsburgh’s communications.

“They’re already suspecting an inside job. That’s why they’ve taken everything under. I’ve been directed to eliminate the three who survived. McCann is one of them. We don’t know what they saw or heard.”

“Where have they taken them?”

“Yale-New Haven. It should be easy to get in and out,” Kilo told him. “You go on. I’ll catch up to you at the last stop at 1600 hours tomorrow, before we go north.”

Something didn’t sit right with Mako. He didn’t like the fact that they would hire him to do a job but would call Kilo to finish up the loose ends. He was tempted to tell the other man that he was coming with him to complete the assignment. But that was risky. Kilo operated on the edge. He could always have other directives. He was also too messy. The possibility of exposure wasn’t worth it.

“All right,” Mako said, giving the man a pat on the back before turning toward the plane. “I’ll see you at 1600.”

~~~~