With a high-pitched squeal the nine-inch angle grinder disc ripped through the bulky vehicle’s back panel, spewing a metre-long shower of white-hot sparks over the operator’s boots and surrounding concrete floor. The strident sound bounced off the galvanised iron walls, making the diesel fitter’s shed seem more like the venue of a rock concert than a work area.
At a tap on his shoulder, the operator shut down the grinder, yanked his heavy-duty earmuffs onto his neck, and turned to eye Terrance Sloan through his goggles.
At Sloan’s barked, ‘How long’s it gonna be?’ the operator pushed the goggles to the top of his head and rubbed the sweat from his face with a gloved hand.
‘About an hour to finish this, boss. Then I have the dunny, passenger seats, and overhead luggage compartments to cut out.’
‘How long before you’re ready to back her down the tunnel?’
After briefly staring into the distance, the man replied, ‘Two and a half hours, max.’
With a grunt Sloan whirled around, calling over his shoulder as he marched off, ‘I’ll get someone to give you a hand.’
One hundred and eighty kilometres south of the Coyote gold mine, the Rockwell 690 twin prop aircraft cruised at thirty thousand feet in the smooth air of late afternoon. From the co-pilot’s seat Aaron Knight dialled a number on the sat-phone and waited for the call to be answered.
‘Thanos,’ a voice barked over the phone connection, ‘what’s your ETA?’
‘Commencing our descent now, Odin,’ Knight replied.
In the pilot’s seat Imogen Lee flicked a smirk at Hunter Reed in the rear. ‘So, if Aaron is Thanos, I guess that makes you Ebony Maw?’
Reed rolled his eyes. ‘They’re just code names to throw off anyone monitoring the airways. I don’t have a handle but if I did, I’d probably go with the Hulk.’
Lee shrugged. ‘Didn’t Thanos beat the crap out of the Hulk?’
‘Like I said, they’re just code names. They don’t mean anything.’
‘If I had a handle,’ Lee mused, ‘I think I’d like to be Captain Marvel.’
‘With your being involved with Thanos, I’d be thinking Proxima Midnight would be more apt.’
Lee grinned. ‘Actually ... I kinda like that idea.’
‘Yeah, a Goth chick with horns,’ Reed said with a sarcastic twist of lips. ‘I can see how it would appeal to you.’
Interrupting their banter with a forbidding glare, Knight spoke into the receiver. ‘Roger, Odin. We have a packed cargo hold on board for delivery.’
‘You got everything I requested?’
‘Affirmative. And what’s the status of stage two?’
‘Two is complete.’
‘Copy. We’ll be on the ground soon.’
In the Global Observer room at Pearce Airbase, Mark rubbed his eyes and once more checked his mobile phone.
No messages.
This was getting boring.
After sitting back to take a long pull from his caffeine-and-sugar-laced energy drink, he wiped an arm across his mouth and glanced at the Global Observer pilot seated beside him. When the man continued staring unblinkingly at the screen in front of him, Mark bent and reached into his duffel. His searching fingers found the spare can, and he extracted it. ‘Wanna drink?’ He waved the can at the pilot. ‘It’ll help you stay awake.’
After flicking a glance at the can the pilot muttered, ‘Don’t need help to stay awake. And I never drink that stuff. You know it’s loaded with taurine, glucuronolactone, and guarana?’
Mark grinned. ‘And a dash of B vitamins.’ He waved the can again. ‘You sure?’
The pilot had already returned his gaze to the screen. ‘I’m sure.’
With a shrug, Mark dropped the can back in his duffel. After settling himself in the chair, he focused his attention on the screen and continued scanning the Tanami Highway.
Moments later, the screen flashed dark green for a split second.
With a jolt, Mark blinked and hastily backed out the camera zoom, to glimpse the top of a dark green RAAF Super Hercules. The plane appeared to be also following the highway, east toward the Northern Territory border and Alice Springs.
Clicking on the screen to his left he brought up the twenty-four-hour flight radar, and zoomed in on the general area near the Northern Territory-Western Australian border. He clicked on each of the yellow aircraft-shaped icons in turn to open their information windows, and studied the details. An Alliance Embraer E190 jet was flying north from Alice Springs to Darwin. An Air Asia Airbus A330 from Kuala Lumpur was crossing the Northern Territory heading for Sydney. And the Super Hercules was making for the border.
Nothing notable, or unexpected.
He sighed and was about to resume his search, when another, smaller icon caught his eye. The light aircraft, travelling from the south, appeared to be on a collision course with the Hercules. When he clicked on the icon, a separate window opened with the plane’s description and other details. Leaning forward, he studied the information.
A Rockwell 690. Altitude twelve hundred feet, speed one-eighty kilometres per hour.
He sat back with a frown and watched the Herc, at eighteen thousand feet, pass safely above the light aircraft and continue following the highway.
Is the 690 coming in to land? But ... where’s the runway?
Switching to satellite view, he waited for the background to re-draw and then watched the seven-seater aircraft come in to land.
An unsealed runway ... next to a mine site.
When an information icon appeared on screen and hovered above the site, he put the mouse over it.
Coyote Gold Mine.
Switching to the Observer controls again, he zoomed in on the mine site and saw two black vehicles turn off the highway.
Making for the nearby airstrip.
He zoomed in further....
Seeing the elderly man waiting for them outside Pine Gap’s main administration building, Bugs strode up to him, freckled hand extended, grinning broadly. ‘Salty, me ol’ mate. How the heck are ya?’
‘Hey there, youngster.’ Salty smiled back at him. ‘I’m doin’ alright, for an old bloke.’ They shook hands and then Salty nodded greetings to Modeen and the rest of the team. ‘Hank’s really keen for an update.’
‘Good,’ she said crisply. ‘Let’s go meet him.’
After ushering them toward Rosenberg’s office, Salty pulled her aside before they reached the doorway. ‘Y’might wanna keep the meeting brief,’ he said quietly. ‘I’ve got some intel for you.’
She nodded and followed the others inside.
As the seven filed into his roomy office, Rosenberg rose with a smile of recognition. ‘Ben Smith.’ He extended a hand, which Ben shook. ‘It’s a been a while. How are you and your team going?’
‘Not my team anymore,’ Ben replied. ‘JD ... I mean Josephine Bennet, here,’ and he indicated her with a lift of his chin, ‘is the head of our unit now.’
‘I see.’ Rosenberg ran his eyes over her and then held out a hand. ‘A pleasure, Josephine. I’ve heard good things about you, so it comes as no surprise you’ve risen through the ranks. Well done.’ He threw an empathetic sideways glance at Ben, whose face remained expressionless.
‘Pleased to meet you too, Hank. And call me Jo.’ After shaking his hand and introducing the other members of the team, she said, ‘Now, we have a theory as to why the perpetrators doubled back to the Alice.’
‘A theory?’ Before seating himself again, he indicated the visitor chairs assembled in readiness around his desk. ‘Great, let’s hear it.’
She sat directly across from him and waited for the others to take their seats before announcing, ‘We think they might be planning to send the container by rail to Darwin.’
Rosenberg’s head twitched, and he got to his feet again. Leaning in, he scrutinised the map on the wall next to his desk. ‘Well now, I hadn’t thought of that,’ he mused aloud, tapping the map with a finger. ‘It makes perfect sense, though, and explains why we haven’t found the damn semi.’
‘We checked the containers fitting the description in the railway yard,’ she went on. ‘There were only two, both empty. We also searched the town before coming here. Came up with nothing.’
As he resumed his seat, Rosenberg crossed his arms. ‘The cargo train doesn’t leave ’til Saturday. I’ll have every damn container in the yard checked before then.’
Modeen’s lips twitched. ‘I was hoping you’d say that.’
‘Glad you’ve given us somethin’ more to go on. So far we’ve got zilch. I’ve called off our air surveillance from Guam, but our Navy is still on alert and assisting yours out in the Arafura Sea. Marines are driving the roads in every direction from Alice Springs, and so far, zippo.’ He reached for his phone. ‘Excuse me while I arrange for those containers to be checked.’
While Rosenberg was on the phone, Salty caught Modeen’s eye and tilted his head at the door. Rising, she followed him outside to the drinking fountain in the corridor.
Taking a paper cup from the stack he bent to fill it with water, murmuring, ‘I did some digging into the background of those Commandos, as you suggested.’
‘And?’ When the phone in her pocket vibrated, she touched a hand to his shoulder. ‘Hold that thought, Salty.’ As she put the mobile to her ear, it vibrated again, this time with an incoming text. After a quick glance at the image on screen, she grinned and said, ‘Good work, Mark. Keep a watch on them. I want to know everything that happens at the site.’ Ending the call, she turned back to eye Salty expectantly.
‘Guess where two employees of Command Cleaning Services are currently stationed?’
‘Let me see.’ She held up her phone so he could see the satellite image on screen. ‘Would it be here, by any chance?’
After studying the image for a moment, he grinned and they chimed together, ‘Coyote Gold Mine.’
Sobering, Salty said, ‘The mine was shut down and put in mothballs back in two thousand and thirteen. Shortly afterward, Command Cleaning Services acquired one of the contracts, and posted two employees there as onsite caretakers.’
‘How convenient.’ Modeen tilted her head toward Rosenberg’s office. ‘Help me wrap this meeting up quickly so we can go check it out.’ As she made to move away, Salty placed a hand on her arm.
‘I did some other digging too,’ he said gravely, ‘into the mine’s employee files. Found more current appointments, for a mechanic, welder, electrician, gardener, and a cook. All employment contracts included free married accommodation. So there could be as many as eight civilians or more onsite.’
Modeen stiffened. ‘Damn, a possible hostage situation.’ She shook her head. ‘You know what that means.’
‘Yep. Your priorities have changed.’
‘Correct. This is now a locate and rescue mission, first and foremost.’
Two black Mercedes Sprinter vans skidded to a stop beside the now stationary Rockwell 690 aircraft. The vans’ side doors slid open and two men jumped from each vehicle with rifles slung. Without speaking, they marched to the plane and began unloading the equipment crammed in the fuselage and cargo hold.
Moments later Hunter Reed climbed out of the nearest van to direct the transfer of equipment, while behind him Aaron Knight and Terrance Sloan locked palms in an epic handshake.
When Imogen Lee emerged from the aircraft’s hatch, Sloan broke off to flash her a predatory smirk. ‘Ahh, the lovely Imogen.’
As he stepped in to wrap her in a bear hug, a scowling Knight barked, ‘You see the Hercules fly over?’
Still holding Lee close, Sloan gave a snort. ‘Relax. They’re searching for a semi.’ After finally releasing Lee, he said smugly, ‘And ours is safely tucked away, out of sight. Besides, the Herc didn’t give us a second glance, just flew right by and kept on going.’ He swooped a hand to the east, mimicking the flyby. ‘Around about now they’ll be busy going through every container at the freight terminal. We’ll be long gone before they even get close enough to sniff our exhaust.’
‘I would’ve loved to have seen their faces,’ Lee said smugly, ‘when the idiots realised the drone was still on the ground.’
Knight’s lips gave a sour twist. ‘Don’t fall into the trap of thinking we have idiots chasing us.’
‘Relax, mate.’ Sloan thumped him on a shoulder. ‘Everything’s fine.’
‘I’ll relax when this is a done deal. How is stage three progressing?’
‘The bus is being gutted as we speak.’ Sloan turned toward the west. ‘It’ll be dark soon, and once the drone is loaded we’ll be able to slip away under the cover of night.’ He gave a triumphant sneer. ‘Nobody’s gonna be lookin’ for a converted tour bus, and even if they do manage to stumble upon us, we’ve got plenty of firepower.’
‘Don’t get cocky. Remember who it is we’ve got on our tails.’ Knight indicated the man-portable anti-tank missiles being unloaded from the aircraft. ‘All that extra firepower will be for nought if we’re caught here with our pants down. The only thing that’ll save us is the hostages, so keep ’em close.’
‘Of course.’ Sloan arched an eyebrow at him. ‘And those Javelins and Stingers are coming on the bus with us. If we don’t have to use them, they’ll fetch a cool quarter of a million each on the black market. A nice little bonus for us.’
Muttering, ‘Let’s hope we make it that far,’ Knight rocked his head back to stare into the darkening sky above. ‘And, that we’re not being watched right now.’