51

At five hundred feet, Johan worked the toggles of his parachute, turning into the final upwind segment of his flight pattern. He maintained his distance from the parachute below him and saw the man behind him doing the same.

So far, the team Armstrong had built had shown martial skill in both individual abilities and team dynamics, and the aircrew Tyler had provided proved they could plan and execute a jump run. All in all, Johan was gaining confidence in the mission.

He saw the lead jumper touch down, and then, like dominoes, the ones behind him, until Johan was flaring his own chute. He hit the ground, ran off his speed, then rotated to collapse his chute, watching the remaining members of the team land, all within half of a football field. It would be a greater diameter at night but was still much smaller than the plateau where he’d placed the beacon.

He half-hitched the lines of his parachute, gathered the canopy, and walked to the trucks in the middle of the drop zone, finding Colonel Armstrong sitting on one of the trucks’ beds.

Armstrong said, “Looked good.”

Johan nodded, saying, “Yeah. Only two jumps and we’re tracking fine. The men are experienced.”

Armstrong smiled and said, “I told you not to worry.”

Johan shucked his parachute harness, letting it fall to the ground. “We’ll see tonight. You have the drivers, right?”

Tonight was to be a full dress rehearsal, using the same type of beacon he’d placed on the plateau and the very drivers who would meet them on the ground. They would simulate as much of the same conditions as they could, doing a blind drop that Johan had set up earlier in the day, briefing the pilots the same way he would for the infiltration, and testing whether the drivers could find the drop zone and recover the jumpers.

Armstrong said, “I have the lead driver. We’ll have to substitute for the others.”

“Sir, why? Jesus, you know how critical the infiltration is. I need them all here.”

“There are issues getting them out of the military base. The drivers aren’t just privates. I thought it better to get the team leaders here. General Mosebo wasn’t willing to let every officer of his Special Forces leave. It would raise questions, and . . . he’s fucking paranoid. You’ll need to work with that.”

“What’s that mean?”

“He thinks everyone is out to get him. He doesn’t trust his own men, so he definitely won’t trust you.”

“Fucking great.”

“It won’t matter. He’s going to hide during the entire thing. He’s not brave enough to take charge of the operation. You probably won’t even see him until it’s over. Anyway, a month ago he planned a cover trip for seven to ‘visit South African Special Forces,’ something that now looks natural and would be odd to change. I thought you’d want the six team leaders instead of splitting that in half with drivers.”

Johan slowly nodded, then said, “Getting on the ground is critical. We fuck that up and nothing else matters.”

“You’ll have the lead driver. It’ll work out.”

Johan said, “I guess we’ll see tonight.”

“Have you decided on assignments for our guys?”

“Yeah. My team’s taking the television station.”

Armstrong squinted his eyes and said, “That’s the easiest target. I figured you’d be on the prime minister. He’s the center of gravity.”

Johan said, “I need to be able to control the overall operation. It’s centrally located to all the other objectives, and I won’t get tied down in a gunfight. I can flex as a reserve if I need to. Someone’s got to be the ground-force commander, and with you staying airborne, that leaves me.”

Armstrong nodded and said, “Okay, okay. I wasn’t implying anything. What did you give Andy?”

Johan smiled and said, “He’s got the police station. Toughest target.”

Armstrong nodded and said, “He’ll like that. So you’re prepared to go tomorrow night?”

“Barring some disaster at tonight’s rehearsal, or something catastrophic at our planning session with the African SF guys, yeah, we will. Are we good on the safe house in Lesotho? I don’t want to land and be asked where I want to go.”

Armstrong laughed and said, “Yeah, we’re good. Tyler got us a compound. Some bed-and-breakfast with five rooms. We own it all.”

“A bed-and-breakfast? You’re kidding me.”

“No, it’s some rustic place out near the king’s residence. A village called Morija.”

“The king? Are you serious? You’re putting us near that sort of security?”

“He lives about seven kilometers away, in another town. It’s through the mountains, and it’s rustic. Trust me, there won’t be a threat. It’s better than a hotel in the city. At least you can plan, out in the mountains.”

“What do we do if he tries to stop us? I don’t mean tactically, like we run into his security. I mean strategically, like he comes out against us before we consolidate control. The people love him.”

“He’s not allowed to. It’s in their constitution. The king can’t interfere with the government. We saw that in 2014, with the half coup that started this whole mess. He sat on the sidelines the entire time, letting the ministers of parliament and the military sort it out. All he’s going to want is peace, and he’ll get it with your operation. In twenty-four hours it’ll be over, and he’ll stay at the residence the entire time, with his men on high alert to protect him. He’s not going to venture out to stop anything, and when it’s over, he’ll see the writing on the wall. He’ll state the coup was for the best, and something like ‘why can’t we just get along?’ The people do love him, and that’s going to work in our favor.”

Johan said, “I hope you’re right.”

Armstrong said, “I am. I’ve put a lot of work into this.”

Johan nodded, saying, “Tyler got the safe house? We couldn’t get it on our own?”

“He was offering the total package, and he’s operated on the continent quite a bit. Why would I want to sacrifice profits doing the work ourselves?”

“Because it means less chance of something getting fucked up, that’s why. You trust him that much?”

“I trust his greed. He wants to get paid, and he won’t screw anything up before that occurs.”

“Yeah, you keep mentioning that he’s fronting this whole thing, so what’s he getting out of it? It’s not money. Cohen’s paying us flat cash, but he isn’t for Tyler, or he wouldn’t be donating all this shit for free.”

Armstrong saw the men coming off the drop zone and said, “I told you, it’s not your concern. Time to get busy. The Lesotho men are waiting in the barracks.”

Before Johan could question him again, Armstrong shouted, “Andy, I saw that ass slide! Not what I remember from the Recces.”

Andy jogged up and laughed, saying, “I wanted to get closest to the mark. Didn’t work out.”

He slapped Johan on the arm and said, “Still trying to beat this guy.”

Armstrong smiled, saying, “Everyone’s been trying to beat Johan for years.”

Johan did not return the smile. He said, “But I always come out on top.” He looked at Armstrong, thinking about his reluctance to discuss Tyler’s payment. He didn’t like being kept in the dark. It smacked of being used.

He said, “Don’t I, Colonel?”

Armstrong hooded his eyes, and Johan turned to Andy, saying, “Load up the men. We’ve got some planning to do with the locals.”