homing system was impervious to them. In just over five seconds after launch, the missile’s 6.6-pound high-explosive fragmentation warhead ripped into the airframe. A secondary explosion erupted in the fuel tank, and the flaming nine-ton wreckage plummeted toward the earth.
Cluzet lowered the launcher, a smile plastered across his boyish face. His green eyes tracked the falling wreckage until it crashed in a fiery heap on the valley floor far down below.
The irony wasn’t lost on him that he’d just shot down a Russian helicopter flown by an Afghan pilot. It used to be Afghans that shot down Russian pilots.
But always, it was the Stinger that was the victor.
Plus ça change, plus c’est la même chose.
“Nice shot,” Manstein said, clapping him on the back.
“Hard to miss a flying brick.”
Cluzet checked his recently acquired Russian airborne watch. “Let’s get all hands on deck and help these mountain goats to finish up. We need to get this shipment loaded up fast and get out of here and on the road before another helicopter comes looking for their dead friends.”
“The Ingush won’t like it,” Manstein said. “They’re fighters, not stevedores.”
“They’ll like getting eighty-millimeter Russian rockets up the ass even less,” Cluzet said. “Now go!”
28
WARSAW, POLAND
Jack wasn’t embarrassed to admit that flying in the Hendley Associates Gulfstream G550 was better than first-class commercial any day. No TSA lines at the terminal, no waiting to board, no coughing kids throwing snot and bacteria into the air, and no snoring seatmates—well, unless Ding Chavez was sacked out somewhere in the cabin.
It was expensive for Gerry to fly him over in an empty plane, but it was his call to make and Jack was grateful. It was a great time-saver on an assignment he really hadn’t wanted to take. He had an obligation to fulfill on the other side of the planet, and it bothered him like hell to put it off a single day longer than necessary.
The G550 executive jet kissed the tarmac under the steady hand of Captain Helen Reid and her first officer copilot, Chester “Country” Hicks, at Warsaw Chopin, the capital city’s principal airport and the largest one in Poland. Captain Reid taxied to a small private terminal of a local fixed-based operator that Lisanne Robertson, the director of transportation for Hendley Associates and The Campus, had contracted with for refueling and scheduled maintenance services in addition to landing rights.
Jack yawned as he pulled on his sport coat. The overnight flight had taken just over ten hours, nonstop, well within the range of the Gulfstream’s twin Rolls-Royce engines. He originally planned to sleep on the way over, but decided instead to dig a little deeper into the few files he had on Gage Capital Partners and the two dozen shell companies he’d found connected with Aaron and his son, Christopher. He finally managed to squeeze in a power nap an hour before they landed, and Lisanne had whipped up a couple of cups of strong black coffee and a spicy turkey-sausage-and-egg breakfast sandwich for him to wolf down before landing.
It was too bad Midas—Bartosz Jankowski—was stuck in the Philippines on a Campus assignment. He’d never heard the former Ranger talk about his parents’ native homeland, nor did he ever mention spending time in Poland. But Midas spoke the language fluently, as well as Russian. The former Delta recce was damned handy to have in a gunfight, too, though the only wounds Jack anticipated receiving on this trip were paper cuts from an accounts receivable ledger if he could ever lay his hands on one.
“We’re wheels up in eight hours. Any chance you’ll be done by then? Happy to give you a lift back if you don’t mind an overnight in London.”
Jack tried to hide his disappointment. Ysabel was still in London, staying with her parents. It would be a convenient excuse to visit her without actually being invited and try to figure out what was going on between the two of them.
If anything, Jack thought. He was beginning to wonder if her radio silence was more than just rest and recuperation. Their time together in Afghanistan proved they both still cared for each other. On the other hand, it also proved they still had unresolved issues. Right now, he wasn’t sure which side would win out in the end.
“Sadly, no. Could be eight hours or eight months before I get to the bottom of this thing.”
“What can I do to help?”
Jack smiled. Lisanne knew how to handle weapons, how to clear a room, and