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"What does he have?" Bolan asked.
"There's a village right down the road, and Katz says it has a gas station or a garage we might be able to use."
"We also need to try to find a couple more jerricans, too," Encizo commented. "We can't count on finding a gas station every time we need one."
The village looked deserted when the Stony Man team cautiously drove in. As Katz had told them, the garage was on the edge of town and there were trucks parked in front, but the place looked deserted, as well.
"What kind of village is this," Hawkins asked as he looked around, "Serb, Croat or Muslim? I don't know how to tell the difference between them."
"Are you going ethnic on us," Encizo asked, "and picking your targets by culture?"
"No," Hawkins replied, shaking his head, "I'm just trying to figure out the likelihood of someone shooting at us based on what flag they're saluting. It's strictly a rules-of-engagement kind of thing."
"The rules of engagement are 'If someone shoots at us, we will shoot back at them regardless of their religion, creed or political faction.'"
Hawkins grinned. "That's fair enough."
"That's the only way we ever work."
Luck was with them again, and the storage tank behind the garage still contained fifty or sixty gallons of gasoline. Rummaging around inside the garage, they found a hand pump to transfer the gas. While James and Manning filled the tank, Encizo and Hawkins scrounged three more serviceable jerricans to add to the one that had come with the truck.
As soon as the Toyota was refueled and the full gas cans had been stashed in the back, the Stony Man team was on the road again.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO.
San Simone
From Able Team's observation point overlooking the Villa del Norte, Schwarz's acoustical scanner picked up the sound of a shot coming from inside the building. "Someone just fired a pistol in there," he announced.
"Just one shot?" Lyons asked.
Schwarz nodded.
"Maybe our man was expressing his dissatisfaction with one of his subordinates."
"Or maybe he was cleaning his pistol and had an accident."
"Someone's coming out the back of the house," Blanca.n.a.les said. "Two men and they're carrying a body."
The two men took their burden to the kennel be-hind the house, opened the door in the chain-link fence and dumped it inside. In a flash, the dogs were on it, tearing and eating the flesh.
"G.o.d Almighty!" Schwarz muttered.
"Okay," Lyons said. "Now we have him cold. He's a hotheaded b.a.s.t.a.r.d and likes to feed the bodies of his men to his dogs. Nice guy."
"He's acting like a mafioso," Blanca.n.a.les said, "not an Arab terrorist."
"Maybe he's been in Italy too long," Schwarz observed, "and the Mafia has rubbed off on him like a bad habit."
"Now that we have a good ID," Blanca.n.a.les said, "and know that it's him, what are we going to do about it?"
Lyons was silent for a long moment. "Well," he said finally, "I guess that we can always go down there and bust his chops."
"Or?" Blanca.n.a.les could hear an unspoken alter-native still forming in Lyons's mind.
"Or we can just sit up here and see what plays out down them. We're on him now, so the ball's in our court.' '
Neither Blanca.n.a.les nor Schwarz could believe what they had just heard. Carl "The Ironman" Ly-ons was recommending caution? "Are you feeling okay, boss?" Schwarz asked. "I've never felt better, Gadgets. I'm just trying to put myself into the mind of that b.a.s.t.a.r.d. He's got some kind of problem, and I'd like to know what it is. And I think he's just squirrelly enough that he'll slip up and let us know before too long. Remember, we don't just want him-we want everyone who's working for him, too. That will save someone else a lot of trouble later."
"He has a problem other than the fact that every cop in Italy and hundreds of NATO security people are after him, you mean?"
"Actually, yes. If he's shooting his own people, he's panicking, and I'd like to see if we can work that into something we can use."
"I thought that was my line," Blanca.n.a.les said. "I'm the guy who's supposed to do all of the psych-ing out and playing mind games around here."
"Just consider it cross training," Lyons replied.
"Does that mean that I'm going to have to start busting down doors, then?"
"Better get yourself some shoulder pads, Pol," Schwarz said, grinning, "or start taking steroids. You're not built for going through doors like the Ironman."
ALl NADAL PICKED UP the phone and was surprised to hear the voice of his main Italian informant, the head of the Italian police's drag-interdiction unit, on the other end of the line. The Lebanese had other midlevel police informants, but this man was the most senior official he had in the Italian government.
"You have a problem," the police colonel said without identifying himself or pa.s.sing pleasantries. "There is a top secret American counterterrorist unit operating against you. They are the ones who hit your safehouses, and they foiled your attack on the air base. They have also been able to break into your computer communications and have released information about you to the police and the UN."
Nadal felt a chill shoot through him. "How did they break into my computers?"
"I do not have that information," the colonel continued. "I just know that they did. I also know that they have access to everything you had in your computer files. In short you have been compromised, and I recommend that you leave the country immediately. You are in danger every minute that you remain in Italy, and there's nothing I can do to protect you now. It's grown far too big, and I must protect my-self. Once you are back in Tripoli, I will contact you through the usual channels, but I can no longer afford to have any contact with you here in Italy. Good luck."
The line went dead, and Nadal put the handset back on the cradle. This couldn't have come at a worse time. There would never be a good time for him to hear that the network he had spent so much time building had been compromised. But with the decision about further attacks on Aviano still up in the air, this wasn't the time for him to abandon his operation and seek personal safety in Libya. His controllers would take that as a sign of cowardice, and the penalty for that was death.
He didn't doubt that the colonel's warning was true, but he couldn't go back to Libya now and still live. The only way he could survive was to turn this situation around. This special Yankee counterterrorist team had to be the men he had been curious about before. From the reports of his agents, there were only five of them, and one was believed to be a pilot. Surely he could come up with a plan to take out five men.
He hadn't forgotten that he had already tried to capture one these Americans on the base and had failed. It was clear to him now that he hadn't chosen the right man for that job. When he targeted them again, he would use every man he had to ensure that the hit was made properly. Then, when the Yankees were out of the way, he would see what he could do to put his organization back together. He wasn't about to stand by and watch while what he had worked so long to put in place was brought to min.
On his way back to the living room, Nadal put a stem, determined look on his face. He couldn't let his two remaining cell leaders know of the police colonel's warning. They were both good men, but they didn't b.u.m with the same revolutionary zeal that fueled everything he did. If they learned that the organization had been compromised, they might try to run to save their lives. And that would be unfortunate, because then he would have to kill them, too.
"We have a new mission," he told them. "First, though, as soon as you get back to your cells, I want you to desh-oy all of your computers immediately. The enemy has found a way to break into them, and it is no longer safe to use them for communication."
"But everything we have planned is on our computers, as well as all of our contacts."
"Make printouts of the information if you have to, but destroy the computers.
"Then," he said, looking both of the men straight in the eye, "there is a small group of Americans based at the Aviano air base who must die as soon as possible. There are only five of them and you can use as many men as you have to to get the job done."
"Are these the same men that Jamal went after?" the Syrian asked cautiously. The failed a.s.sa.s.sination team had come from his cell, and the man in charge had been one of his best. Or so he had thought.
Nadal nodded. "Yes. And this time you cannot fall. They must be killed, all of them."
The Syrian locked eyes with his leader. "Now that the air-base security forces have been alerted against us, it will not be as easy for us to get weapons into the base as it was the first time."
"I know that." Nadal kept his voice neutral. He didn't want to have to kill this man, too. The cell structure of his organization required good subcom-manders, and he didn't have anyone to replace him at this time. "But it has to be done anyway."
The Syrian dropped his gaze. "I will set my best men on it."
"Both of you will do that," Nadal said. "And you will lead them yourself." He glanced at his watch. "Now, I want you to go and ready your units. I will be in touch with you on the phone tomorrow to work out the details."
"HEADS UP, GUYS," Schwarz sang out. "We have movement to our front."
In the glare of the security lights around the villa, they saw the front door open. This time, there were only two men who walked out and got into the white BMW sedan.
"You were right about him having been p.i.s.sed at one of his own guys," Blanca.n.a.les told Lyons. "He seems to have misplaced one of his visitors."
"He didn't misplace him," Schwarz said. "He invited him to be his dogs' dinner.
"Do we follow these guys?" Schwarz continued as he watched the two men start down the long driveway. After spending a day on the hill, a nice warm car ride would go well right now.
Lyons shook his head. "No, I got their mug shots and the plate number, so we can track them down later. Right now, I want the guy in the house."
"So we're going to follow him?"
"More or less," Lyons said.
"Dammit, Ironman?' Schwarz exploded. "How about letting us in on what's going down? I'm freez-ing my a.s.s off up here and I'm hungry. If there's some purpose to this exercise, I'd really like to know what it is."
"Patience, Gadgets, patience. But since you're burning with such a great desire to go into action, there is something you can do for the cause."
"What's that?"
"Do you have any of your tracking beacons in your little bag of tricks?"
"Sure. I always have a couple."
"Good. Here's what I'd like you to do. I want you to sneak down there and-"
"Forget it," Schwarz broke in. "I'm not going anywhere near those man-eating dogs."
"They only eat you after you're dead."
"No way, Jack," Schwarz stated, shaking his head. "My telephone psychic told me to stay away from dogs this year."
Just then, Lyons's cellular phone rang. "Lyons," he answered.
"We have a problem," Katzenelenbogen told him. He hated to call Able Team off of the chase, but with the Bosnia mission going the way it was, he needed them at the CP in case they had to be sent to back up Bolan.
"The situation in Bosnia has turned serious," he explained. "The air strike didn't do the job, and the guys have had their mission extended. I need you guys back here to stand by in case they need backup."
"d.a.m.n!" Lyons said. "Things were just starting to get interesting around here."
"It can't be helped, Ironman. The guys have the priority this time."
"I copy," Lyons said. "We'll wrap up and head back."
"Make it sooner rather than later," Katz advised. "And if you get hung up, call and I'll send Jack after you."
"Will do."
"Katz wants us to break off here and get back to Aviano ASAP," Lyons told his teammates. "Apparently Striker's mission isn't going well."
Schwarz didn't wish the other team any bad luck, but getting off this cold hill sounded good to him. "I'll start packing our stuff up."
Lyons knew that Katz wanted them back ASAP, but now that they had tracked the Lebanese to his lair, a few more minutes one way or the other wouldn't make any real difference.
"Gadgets, did you get the phone number to this place when you were tracking the E-mail address?"
"Yeah."
"I want to give our man down there a call and see if I can get him to rabbit for us."
"I thought you said that Katz needed us back at the CP ASAP?"
"He does. But I still want to put a tag on that guy's car so we can find him later."
"I told you that I'm not going down there with those d.a.m.ned dogs, Carl. You can just forget it."
"But there won't be any dogs where I want you tO go."
"What's the catch? Are you and Pol going to take the dogs out first?"
"Nope. I'm going to get our man to run, but I'm going to create a diversion so we can tag his car. I don't want to lose track of him."
"Why don't we just shoot the b.a.s.t.a.r.d while we have the chance and have done with it?"
"Because I want the rest of his people, too," Ly-ons replied, dropping the banter. "Leaving them in place only means that someone will have to chase all of them down later. And you know that I really hate to leave things half-done."
"What kind of diversion?"
'Tm going to have Pol take the Lancia down there and have a breakdown right at the end of the driveway. And then..."
WHEN ALI NADAL'S black BMW sports sedan approached the end of the driveway, he saw a silver gray Lancia sedan off the road blocking his way. The car's hood was up, and a man was leaning over as if he was working on the engine. Drivers often used his turnout to park, but he also knew a good ambush site when he saw one.