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Chapter69

Jennifer and I entered the outskirts of the Dharavi slum, drawing more and more stares the farther in we went. The sun was already down below the buildings, meaning any tours of the area were long over, and the denizens of the slum were wondering what the hell we were still doing in here.

I called Brett and Knuckles, saying, “We’re getting the stink eye, how are you guys doing?”

Earlier, Brett and Knuckles had run a close target reconnaissance of the terrorists’ location and had sent me as much information as they could, including photos of the target building and the structures up and down the alley. When they were complete, they were supposed to come back to the Rock Star bird for a debrief, but Knuckles had called and said they’d found a place to stay within sight of the terrorists’ location. An NGO canteen that had a smattering of greasy hippy-like Westerners coming and going among the slew of locals.

Knuckles looked like a hippy himself, and Brett, being African American, managed to confuse everyone. He couldn’t be a tourist, so he must be with the NGO. That had been a few hours ago, and I wasn’t certain how long they could stay. We’d only traveled three blocks andJennifer had been stopped twice for a selfie with random strangers, as if they had never seen a blond Caucasian woman.

Knuckles said, “We’re okay, but our heat state is rising. This place had enough turnover in the day that nobody’s noticed, but now it’s slowed down. People are stopping longer, and sooner or later, someone’s going to ask to sit at our table.”

“Hopefully it’s later. We’ll be at your location in about five minutes.”

“What’s the plan?”

“We’re going to walk past the target on our way to your location to check on activity, then we’re going to make a hasty plan, walk back, and slam that place. I brought bangers and breaching charges, so we should be good if they’ve got him locked up in a reefer or other cage.”

“You really think Sledge is here?”

“I’d say it’s fifty-fifty. He might be at the residence, but that watch is here, so even if it’s just a terrorist, we’re going to get something.”

Brett said, “What if it’s a room full of terrorists? There’s only the four of us.”

“It’s not going to be a roomful. You said you saw the work crew leave, right?”

“Yeah, they’re gone.”

“And one guy left and came back with food, but the Garmin didn’t leave?”

“Yep. Same guy left for both lunch and dinner.”

“There were only five at the wedding attack. Three who came in shooting, and the two bodyguards. One of the shooters was killed that night, and one of the bodyguards was killed later, and we know Jaiden is in the residence, so that leaves two unaccounted for.”

“But you know Jaiden isn’t at the residence by himself. He has help, and ifhehas help, these guys might also.”

“True, but the guy wasn’t carrying enough food for a platoon. I’m thinking five at the max. What’s the issue here? You think these amateurs are dangerous?”

I heard Knuckles laugh, then say, “Come on, as your 2IC I just felt it necessary to inform you of the danger.”

“I thought Danger was your middle name.”

Brett came on, saying, “I’m not worried about the locals, but what if we’ve read this wrong and the Chinese are in cahoots with them? That Condor team is no joke.”

I hadn’t considered that. What if Mr.Chin had only told us the partial truth, and the Condor team wasn’t hunting the Garmin watch like we were but was with the terrorists right now? It gave me a pause on the whole assault plan. I was all about flexing under a time crunch, but maybe this was a little bit too much of a flex and Mr.Chin was walking us into a trap. For all I knew, it was a Condor team member wearing the damn thing.

I said, “Let us get by the target and we’ll reassess when we link up.”

“Roger all. You having any trouble navigating?”

“Not a bit. App’s working like a charm.”

Like a couple of explorers in the Amazon for the first time, Brett and Knuckles had used a navigation application on their Taskforce phone to leave a trail of breadcrumbs everywhere they went in the slum, including during the CTR of the target and the final stop at the NGO canteen. They’d transmitted it to us, and now all we had to do was follow the trail.

We continued on, taking lefts and rights in the maze, following the breadcrumbs, and were about to make the final turn down the alley that ran past the target when Brett came on, saying, “Pike, Koko, Pike, Koko, hold your position.”

We stopped immediately, me saying, “What’s up?”

“We just had two policemen walk by and they’re now standing just south of the target entrance.”