he were approaching an extraterrestrial object. The door handle unlatched with a tactile and positive click; whoever had done the restoration work had done it exceptionally well. The dark interior combined utilitarian finishes and materials with style and comfort. The keys were in the ignition. The 376-cubic-inch, 430-horsepower General Motors LS3 V-8 roared to life instantly, its throaty growl tamed by an effective ceramic-coated exhaust system that allowed the vehicle to maintain a reasonable amount of stealth given its power.
“Not bad for a Japanese import, eh?” Political correctness was not one of Raife’s strengths.
“I love it.”
“This one’s from Thorn,” Raife confessed, using the nickname for his father-in-law. “He’s taken pity on you in your weakened state.”
“Where did he find it?”
“Don’t you recognize her?”
Reece looked in the seats behind him and then back to his friend.
“It’s yours. Ol’ Clint couldn’t bring himself to destroy her when you left California. He held on to it just in case. When he found out you were alive, he reached out to Thorn through the Special Operations Association. Their Vietnam network is strong. Thorn had it shipped out here, but not before having it fixed up for you.”
“This is a bit more than ‘fixed up.’ This is a work of art!”
“Glad you like it. ICON 4X4 did the restoration so it should actually make it to town unlike your stock original. I almost forgot, look behind the seat.”
Reece switched off the motor and looked over his shoulder. Hanging in a purpose-built Greyman tactical rack behind the seat was a Daniel Defense MK12 with a SilencerCo Omega suppressor and a Nightforce 1-8x24mm ATACR optic mounted on the receiver’s top rail.
“Trouble seems to find you. I figured it would be wise to have more than that nine-mil pea shooter in your holster.”
“You were not wrong, my friend,” Reece said with genuine sincerity.
“Make yourself at home and relax. The family is flying in tomorrow and Dad is throwing a big dinner party in your honor.”
“It will be great to see everyone.”
“Almost everyone. You remember my younger sister Hanna. She’s currently in Romania saving the world, but I think she’s planning to come home for Christmas.”
“It will be great to see her. And it gives me a few months to get into shape. As I remember, she was always doing those ultra-marathons.”
“She won the Grand Traverse a couple years ago, so you have a lot of work to do.”
“That’s no joke. I’ve always wanted to do that. Crested Butte to Aspen, right?”
“That’s right. Forty miles of ski-mountaineering over the Elk Mountain range.”
“You have to have a partner for that one. Who’d she race with?”
“Me,” Raife smiled. “And, if they didn’t remove your liver along with your brain tumor you might want to bring it, along with a spare. You know how my family is.”
“If I find an extra, I’ll be sure to bring it.”
“I’ll be at the shop if you need anything.”
“Hey Raife,” Reece called out as his friend walked toward his Land Rover.
“Yeah?”
“You might want to check the oil in that Defender. It’s been sitting there for a few minutes so it probably all leaked out.”
Raife turned and smiled to himself as he saluted his friend with his middle finger.
CHAPTER 2
Bangui, Central African Republic
ROMAN DOBRYNIN WAS NOT a man accustomed to waiting. Usually, just the opposite. People waited on him: subordinates, security personnel, even foreign dignitaries. He was the Russian president’s man in Africa, or at least in the Central African Republic. In his mid-fifties, he was a seasoned diplomat, having earned his stripes in the chaos that was Chechnya. He had proven himself to be an aggressive negotiator unafraid to threaten and then employ the darker arts of manipulation to achieve his, and Mother Russia’s, strategic goals. Technically a senior policy advisor in Russia’s Ministry of Foreign Affairs, he was their de facto senior man in the CAR. His official title was National Security Advisor to the President of the Central African Republic.
Russia was a power on the rise in Africa, and Dobrynin had counterparts in the Congo, Ethiopia, Guinea, Eritrea, and Mozambique. With France all but abandoning its former colony, Russia and China were quick to fill the void; arms deals, security training assistance, regional negotiations, lumber, diamonds, oil, gold, cobalt, and most important for Russia, uranium. Russia had vaguely disguised its intentions on the international stage, citing its involvement in the region beginning in 1964. Strategically located in the heart of the Dark Continent, the Central African Republic was the ideal hub from which Russia