Armed Resistance. Don Pendleton

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       “One thing that stumps me is why we weren’t alerted earlier that these weapons had gone missing from the armory at Camp Shelby,” Hawkins said. “I mean, we’re talking about a massive installation, utterly secure with the largest Army reserve unit in the free world stationed there.”

       “That’s part of what Able Team is going to be looking into,” Price said. “They’ll be carrying credentials identifying them as agents with the Army’s Criminal Intelligence Division.”

       “That’s a new one,” Encizo observed.

       Brognola said, “Since these are military weapons that have gone missing, this would normally fall into their purview. We knew if we sent them posing as members of Homeland Security or the FBI, there was a chance they’d get stonewalled out of the gate.”

       “At least from this angle the sending of Army CID agents has the dubious distinction of looking like we’re trying to keep it inside the family, so to speak,” Hawkins observed.

       “A very astute observation, T.J.,” Price said.

       “My mom says I’m smart,” Hawkins replied with a cheesy grin.

       “Any other questions?” Price said.

       “Just one,” Manning said. “We know that the situation in Sudan is tumultuous at best. You told us that we basically can’t trust anybody over there. What other opposition could we expect to encounter beside that of the Lord’s Resistance Army?”

       “I wish I had better news but the question is fair all the same,” Price said with a deep sigh. “The fact is you’re right, there has been an almost constant ethnic and rebel militia going up against some other ethnic and rebel militia since the 1960s. Hundreds of thousands of refugees have been forced out of the country and into the neighboring territories of Ethiopia, Kenya and the DRC. The Sudanese government army hasn’t had the resources to combat the widespread terror and violence in the country. These groups aren’t just fighting for food and water. In some cases they’re filled with religious fervor, as well.

       “In fact, the larger part of General Kiir’s SPLA fighters are self-proclaimed Christians. They view themselves as men of God and feel it is their solemn duty to protect all citizens of the country. But there are many atrocities committed even among their own groups, something you would not consider all that uncommon in a country filled with this type of strife. Basically, outside of a handful of General Kiir’s men you are persona non grata and you will have to rely heavily on the skill of your Sudanese contact.”

       “I’m surprised they’d even let us into the country,” James said.

       “They wouldn’t and we never intended to bring you in that way,” Brognola replied. “Your contact will meet you at the Ugandan capital city of Kampala. You’ll fly in posing as oil barons, not an uncommon sight there by any means. He’ll then smuggle you over the border into the areas held secure by the SPLA, specifically General Kiir’s men.”

       “Your contact is a man named Kumar,” Price said. “General Kiir has assured us that Kumar will conduct your safe passage both into and out of the country.”

       “Remember, don’t take chances,” Brognola said. “If the situation gets out of control then do whatever you must to get out of the country alive. That’s your top priority if at any point things fall apart. Don’t get yourself killed over a few military weapons, men. It’s not worth it unless you gain ground and find that it’s worth it. Understood?”

       The men nodded and mumbled an agreement.

       “Then Godspeed, Phoenix Force,” Brognola said.

      CHAPTER THREE

      Camp Shelby, Mississippi

      “I should be fishing,” Carl Lyons announced.

       A military policeman cleared them through the gate with a smart salute.

       “Cheer up, Ironman,” Hermann Schwarz replied from the backseat of the sedan with the government plates. “We could’ve been stuck with an assignment someplace where it’s cold.”

       “Or worse,” Rosario Blancanales added from behind the wheel. “How would you like to have the mission location Phoenix got?”

       Lyons scowled. “We’re supposed to be on vacation.”

       “I’m hungry,” Schwarz said. “Wonder what the chow’s like here?”

       “You’ve had Army chow plenty of times,” Blancanales reminded him. “You never really liked it.”

       Schwarz looked puzzled. “I didn’t?”

       Blancanales looked him in the eyes through the rearview mirror and shook his head.

       Indeed, both men were quite familiar with Army food. While Schwarz had significantly less experience in the field than his friend, he brought skills that were unusual for a combat veteran. Following a stint in Vietnam as a radio intelligence officer, Schwarz had begun his second tour with Bolan during the Mafia wars after spending only five months at a technical school in East Los Angeles. With his electronic intuition, one that had earned him the name Gadgets, Schwarz was a shoo-in for selection to become part of Stony Man’s elite urban counterterrorist unit.

       Blancanales had a more distinguished career in the sense of notoriety. A decorated Green Beret, “the Politician” had earned a reputation as an effective member of the pacification programs implemented by the Army during the Vietnam War. He also served as Able Team’s medic. Most of the time, Blancanales acted as the team’s primary spokesperson due in no small part to his talent at being charming and gregarious.

       The team leader was glad to leave these two men to their specific talents. Lyons had first met Bolan when the two men were on opposite sides of the law. Bolan had not spared Lyons’s life once, but three times, actually, and it came as quite a surprise when Bolan and Brognola approached him about joining Able Team as their leader—not that he wasn’t qualified. The only member of Stony Man’s field units who had never served in the Armed Forces, Lyons had been a member of the LAPD SWAT team and a decorated police sergeant. His successful completion of the Ironman competition, coupled with his intense inner strength and physical stature, had earned him the nickname and he wore it well.

       “We got a major shit storm in front of us and all you two can think about is food?” Lyons grumbled. “Hopeless, utterly hopeless.”

       “Well, who peed on your cereal this morning?” Schwarz asked.

       “You know he gets like that when he gets hungry, too,” Blancanales said. “He’s the boss so he’s not really allowed to show his discomfort.”

       Ignoring the chance offered by his two friends to trade coarse jokes, Lyons said, “What do we know about this General Saroyan?”

       “Highly decorated officer,” Blancanales cited mechanically. “Came up the hard way, from what I understand. Did tours in both Iraq wars and spent some time with a military intelligence unit following the 9/11 attacks. He’s been post commander here at Camp Shelby since 2007. Definitely not the politicking type, which means we can probably assume he’ll shoot straight with us.”

       “He’d СКАЧАТЬ