Returned

Diversion

Thirteen

Diversion

Prescott had planned everything out. He kept timing himself and looking in the direction of Bruno. He had already forwarded the required information for Bruno to process and standby. As soon as the scheduled time had hit, Prescott grabbed his gear, removed his handchute and without warning, jumped out of the chopper. Sloane and his team scampered. In that very moment, Bruno too jumped through the opposite door.

Prescott was halfway down before he pressed his chute to spread, slowing his landing pace. Bruno had landed before him. The robot had already picked up the coordinates they required even before Prescott touched ground. The green signal beeped continuously on a small screen to Bruno’s wrist. Prescott quickly adjusted his pack and heaved it to his back. They saw some locals peering with a bewildered look at them as if they were fallen angels.

Back on the chopper, one of Sloane’s men suggested that they circle round and locate the rogue NASA guys but Sloane cut him out.

“What the hell are you talking about? We are not losing one minute on those guys, we already have our target in sight. We have to reach it before the Chinese notice anything.”

“Copy that sir,” the agent said and fell mute.

Down in the streets, Prescott and Bruno followed the beeper until they found what they were looking for. Just around the corner of the last block on the street, was parked a glittering black Ford Galloper.

***********************

Sloane had no choice but to improvise. Inasmuch as he was instructed by Bowden to call the shots of the operation, the guy Prescott seemed to have the required information to pull the mission off. And he had least expected Prescott to jump out of the chopper unannounced the way he did. Now, he decided that they didn’t need to knock on Jennifer’s gate politely. He asked the pilot to find a space inside the compound for them to land the chopper.

Luckily, the pilot spotted a helipad just at the back of the mansion. It seemed old and out of use for many years, but it would do. The pilot eased the chopper gently into the compound and landed on the old helipad. All five agents trooped out under the swirling rotors, led by Sloane.

As far as Sloane was concerned, if Prescott thought he would come through the main gate politely, or whatever plan he had up his aces, he would be through here before any of that happened. It was no longer a debrief session; he would extract the target and their host inclusive. The debriefing would be done when they arrived back at the station.

The agents trickled in line and got to the back door but it was locked. One of the agents launched an explosive in the keyhole and the lock burst open. Sloane kicked the door open and they trained their rifles into the house entering one after the other in commando style. Inside, they searched the large house room after room, but there seemed to be no single soul in the building.

Sloane decided to take the combing further to the front of the building. When they opened the front door to step outside, they stepped into yet another surprise. Trained at them were automatic laser rifles from a heavily armed squad of fifteen men dressed in the same uniform as they. Only, they were a mix of Chinese and Nigerians. There were a few civilians standing some yards away, watching the drama. Possibly the domestic staff, Sloane thought.

“You are on foreign territory and in criminal disguise,” the U.S-trained Ma Yanng announced in impeccable English littered with a little Chinese accent. “You are advised to drop your weapons peacefully and be escorted by men of the Tame Dragon elite unit. We would not want to create a scene here.”

Sloane was totally taken aback. In all his calculations, he had never envisaged this scenario which unfolded before his eyes without warning. He had least expected the Chinese to act as fast as they did. It meant therefore that they had seen them come in and had taken the target out, and waited for them to walk into their trap. He didn’t know which call to make, but he certainly was not prepared to lead his men to the slaughter house, neither was he prepared to die on this day.

“What do you intend to do?” Sloane asked boldly.

“You are in no positions to ask questions sir,” Yanng maintained. “Drop your weapons, put your hands on your head and come forward gently.”

Sloane signaled his men to drop their guns. He dropped his too. His men meekly obeyed Yanng, put their hands on the back of their heads and moved forward. As he put his hands on his head, Sloane quickly pressed a button on the call latch he wore like a watch to his wrist. He was glad that the pilots had gotten his signal in time, because in only a few seconds, the helicopter lifted into the air and surged forward.

“s**t,” Yanng exhaled his frustration.

But there was nothing they could do. He could not even shoot at the chopper watching it momentarily as it flew away. Sloane grinned widely when Yanng turned to him. All five of the operatives were cuffed and led to the three large blue vans waiting on the terrace leading to the gate.

Yanng came level-faced with Sloane, stopping him in his tracks.

“Where is the other man that jumped?” the Chinese man asked.

“He did jump, and is not here. You have already said that.”

“Where is he going?”

“I do not know,” Sloane said.

“I don’t want this harder than it already is my friend,” Yanng said sternly.

“Me neither.”

“Then you better start talking,” Yanng returned.

Sloane didn’t say anymore words. He just started moving to the vehicle gently as if Yanng had already permitted him. It seemed Yanng too didn’t want any more drama, but he was sure he would get his answers in the van, en route to the state Headquarters of Tame Dragon in the Makurdi town. Time was fast against him now, and he needed quick answers for his Superior, Jon Cho, to whom he reported directly, outside the Tame Dragon chain of command.

As their van pulled out of the gate, there was another van with same colours waiting just outside the gate. Another team of six men of Tame Dragon stood loosely around the vehicle until Yanng jumped down from his van to join them and they all snapped to attention.

“Where are they?” he asked the second team’s leader.

“We couldn’t find them sir,” the Nigerian man known as Sergeant Obi said firmly.

“That’s not possible! Didn’t you track them?” Yanng insisted.

“We tried sir, but we didn’t have their identity codes.”

“Try again!”

At this order, the other Nigerian called Aku, rushed forward with a glassy, transparent handheld gadget. He tapped on the pad and it flickered to life with several moving green and red dots. The dots pointed to miniature moving human figures on the screen. Other figures seemed to be speeding in vehicles.

“Narrow the tracking signal down within a four-street search radius of this area,” Yanng ordered.

“I already did that sir,” Aku confirmed.

“Highlight all national identity codes on the street and isolate them, then identify the foreign identities and pin point them.

Aku smiled. Even though it was his job, he admired Yanng’s quick logic. But when he tried Yanng’s suggestion, he still could not find any recent foreign identities. Then it suddenly occurred to him.

“Sir,” Aku said happily, “I think they scrambled their identity channels.”

“But how is that possible? Only robots have the scrambling device.”

Yanng took Aku’s device and preened into it.

“Wow,” he said knowingly, “one of them must be a robot.”

“Or both of them,” Aku said.

“The scrambling device on a robot has an infrared coverage for three more characters. The guy I saw was human; I didn’t watch the second jump through the lenses. That must have been the robot.”

Without wasting further time, Yanng called for the set-up of a temporary tactical and holding station right there at Ms. Jennifer’s gate. He would conduct his debriefing there and also coordinate the search from the temporary station. He placed a call from his wrist. As his earlobe began to blink red, he gave a dispatch order.

“All teams… set up a search perimeter within ten streets’ radius of Ms. Jennifer Koko’s residence. We are looking for a Caucasian American, possibly in Tame Dragon’s uniform as disguise. He is in company of a robot. They jumped out of a chopper barely twenty minutes ago. They could not have gone far. Search all exiting vehicles as well, they may have ground help.”

Yanng turned to Aku and said, “Track the vehicle of Ms. Jennifer; I want to know her position.”

Aku tracked down Jennifer’s vehicle. It was headed outskirts of town, in the direction of Jos. He reported that he identified Jennifer in the vehicle, her driver and her robot.

“How about the three aliens,” Yanng asked.

“Aliens cannot have national identity codes here sir,” the tech guy returned.

“I mean the three persons that entered this compound yesterday morning, idiot.”

“There’s no record of their codes here sir.”

“Why is Ms. Jennifer going on an official mission with her domestic robot? How long will it take for you to pull a live video surveillance of that vehicle?”

“Fifteen minutes sir.”

“Make it ten… now!” Yanng barked. “I want to know the occupants of that vehicle.”

Yanng dialed Cho’s number to fill him in on the incursion of the CIA and the latest developments with Jennifer. He was not going to fail on his job.