“I understand, Admiral,” Elliot MacIntyre replied. “We’re taking a hellish bite out of your lift capacity and, if we’d had time to bring in one of our own Special Ops Osprey squadrons, we would
have. But we couldn’t and we have to borrow yours. It is absolutely imperative we have four Ospreys
and a pair of spares on station at Jakarta skybase tonight. It’s the same with your F-35s. Yours are the only full-stealth aircraft we can get
within range in time.”
“We’d have gotten them there,” Sorenson insisted. “My people don’t fall down on the job.”
“I never thought that they would, Admiral.” MacIntyre knew the real source of the edge in Sorenson’s voice. No commander liked having their quarterdeck violated and NAVSPECFORCE had been directly tinkering with NAVEX 7.2’s internal operations, a titanic bending of naval etiquette. But, at the moment, MacIntyre didn’t give a damn about bruised egos. Those Ospreys had to be on station tonight with well-rested aircrews aboard and with clean maintenance cards, wounded feelings be damned.
“Another point, Admiral MacIntyre,” Sorenson continued. “My aircraft and my aircrews will be playing a major role in the evacuation of
the Embassy in Jakarta and, as yet, my tactical officers have received only a
very abbreviated briefing package of the operation.”
What you mean, you hard-headed Swede, is that you have received a very abbreviated briefing package on the operation, MacIntyre interjected silently.
“My people have no idea who we will be working with and who they will be relying
on,” Sorensen went on. “That’s highly unsatisfactory, sir.”
“But necessary, Admiral,” MacIntyre replied, “absolutely necessary due to a variety of critical security concerns that I am
not at liberty to discuss. You have my personal assurance that your aircrews
will receive all the information they require for the successful conduct of
this operation.”
MacIntyre heard the breath hiss from behind Sorenson’s clenched teeth. “Then a final point, Admiral. You have reserved one of my Ospreys for your personal use tonight. So far, my AIRBOSS has received no information at all as to your
intended flight destination.”
“That’s correct, Admiral,” MacIntyre replied, speaking succinctly. “Your aircrew will be provided with all of the navigational data they’ll need after we are airborne. They will also be placed under specific orders
from the highest authority to not reveal anything, about anything, to anyone
about what they might observe on this flight.”
“I see … Admiral.”
“I’m pleased that you do, Admiral.”
The North Coast of Lompoc Island
1200 Hours; Zone Time, October 31, 2008
Makara Harconan paced the sun-striped floor of the clan chief’s hut, trying to will away his awareness of time. The isolated Bugi village had offered him the best they could. The best food, the best lodging, their best ship and crew ready to sail at a moment’s notice. What they could not provide was an easing of his mind.
There are things a man can sacrifice in pursuit of a goal. His wealth, his position, his comfort, personal welfare and safety, his Dutch father’s heritage, the very world he has built for himself. Harconan had done so willingly, staking it all on a roll of the dice.
But there are some things a man, a true man, cannot cast aside at his
convenience. Harconan had never been afraid to stand alone if needs required
it. But if standing alone meant that all of those you had ever cared for must
perish …
He didn’t know. That was the worst. The satphones and radios were down at his
headquarters and Lo had missed three calls on the emergency contact schedule.
If he missed this fourth call …
Abruptly the satellite phone, sitting active on the table in the center of the room, buzzed for attention. The channel register indicated an incoming call on the crisis link. Harconan pounced on the receiver.
“Lo?”
“Makara Harconan?” Even through the static, it was a voice Harconan recognized.
He only wished he didn’t.
Harconan understood everything now. It all fell into place and he could see it all. That was Lan Lo’s last precious gift to him: understanding.
“Good afternoon, Admiral Ketalaman.”
“Good afternoon, Mr. Harconan. I’m pleased we have finally reached you. We have important matters to discuss.”
“As I have been eager to speak with you as well, Admiral. Only I didn’t know it.”
It was Merpati Ketalaman of Sumatra, the Admiral who hated the sea. The controlled one. The man who always spoke softly. Harconan had purchased him years before as a useful asset to his piracy operations. Ketalaman had been a most pragmatic individual, one who could be totally trusted – at least for as long as his actions were in his own best interests.
“What’s happened at my headquarters?” Harconan demanded. “What have you done with my people?”
“As I said, I have been eager to speak with you,” Ketalaman continued. “We had a most successful relationship when you were conducting your piracy
operations and it has been my desire to co-ordinate activities with you once
more. But you have been rather difficult to locate recently.”
“My people, Ketalaman.” Harconan’s voice was deadly.
“I regret to say there has been an unfortunate incident. When we approached your
base, there was a conflict between my men and your security forces. It was most
regrettable. If you had been present, I’m sure it could have been prevented.”
“And my assistant, Lan Lo?”
“I also regret to say that he is dead, but I give you my word that it was not at
the hands of my men.”
Harconan felt his mouth twist. “I can believe that.”
It wasn’t a matter of believing Ketalaman. It was a matter of believing in Lo. To allow himself to become a threat to Harconan would have been unacceptable.
“You seem to have gone to a great deal of trouble to renew acquaintances.”
“I have, Mr. Harconan. I believe that, as two realistic men, we can be of use to
each other once more.”
Harconan’s instinct was to scream at this man to go to hell, but his voice remained calm
as he replied. “How so, Admiral?”
“We are essentially working to the same goal. You desire the disruption of the
Jakarta government. So do I. You desire the political disassociation of the
islands of the Archipelago; I do as well. I desire control only of Java,
Sumatra and certain small subsidiary territories. As our intentions parallel, I
suggest that we meet and discuss combining our operations. I believe you would
make a useful ally.”
“I’m flattered, Admiral,” Harconan replied, bitterness leaking into his voice. “But why should either of us bother?”
“Because your alliance would be helpful to me and wise for you. You have resources that I would find of use in stabilizing the situation on Java and Sumatra. Your Bugi sea clans would then be assured of my good will in the future.”
