Black Flagged Redux

Chapter 61





5:35 PM

Nuequen Province

Western Argentina





General Terrence Sanderson stared out at the HH-60H Rescue Hawk sitting in the middle of the dirt road outside of his headquarters lodge. The matte black helicopter was shadowed from the setting sun by the pines blanketing the foothills to the west. The grounding of this helicopter had pushed the president over the edge. Most of Sanderson's plan had been a bluff, with the exception of his threat to expose the helicopter and video evidence of the raid. Even that had been a bluff on many levels, since it would have achieved nothing for his organization. The helicopter was his trophy for now, until the U.S. government figured out how to insert a team to repair it. He imagined they would fly out using the same route and land it on one of their radar invisible destroyers. What a pain in the ass that would be for the U.S. Navy.

His satellite phone rang inside the lodge, and he opened the screen door to walk back inside. The plate of cookies still sat on the table, with one missing upon their return to the compound. He had found his note turned over, with a scrawled message at the top:



Expect resume shortly, LCDR Daly.



Parker knew Daly well from his time in the SEALs and said he'd make an excellent addition to their training or headquarters staff. He could possibly serve as a recruiter for more direct action operators. Now that Sanderson's people could come and go as they pleased, he was only limited by his imagination. He might even consider moving the training compound, though he was very comfortable on señor Galenden's property. He picked up the phone, recognizing the number.

"Bob's Used Helicopters…lightly flown and gently landed," he answered.

"Clever. I was going to wait a little while to get back in touch, but apparently we'll be working together, effective immediately."

"I heard the news about an hour ago. The rest of my group is on their way to catch the next available flights to Germany. Including the four already in Europe, that'll give them fourteen operatives to shake things loose over there. What a day this has been. I can't thank you enough for all of your help over the past couple of years. I'll buy you a proper drink when I get back to the States."

"I'll take you up on that. Until then, I'm working on a plan to find your organization a permanent home…or at least an official slot on someone's organizational chart."

"Don't do anything that's going to jeopardize your career. You've done enough for me already," Sanderson said.

"This is different. There's some serious talk about permanently assigning Special Operations assets to our spook friends. Langley has their own people, but the group is fairly small and highly compartmentalized. The National Clandestine Service has started to informally ask the Pentagon for help. Naturally, there's a lot of resistance from SOCOM. They don't like to give up operational control of their units, especially to the CIA…the two barely function together as it is. This might be a nice fit for you, and a chance to expand the program."

"This sounds exactly like the service we're already providing," Sanderson said.

"My thoughts exactly, and SOCOM wouldn't have to give up control of any assets. If things go well in Europe, you might just slide into this role without any help from your fan club in D.C."

"Thank you again for everything. I'll never forget this."

"It was my pleasure, though your number one fan didn't look very happy. I'd think twice about accepting an invitation to the J. Edgar Hoover Building."

"I'll stick to videoconferences for now," Sanderson said.

"Sounds like a wise plan. Rotor failure on that helicopter, eh?"

".50 caliber rotor failure," Sanderson said.

"Works every time. I'll be in touch shortly with more details. You might consider acquiring some more satellite phones. You're going to be a busy man."

"Already in progress. I'll have a mobile communications suite here by midday tomorrow. Full satellite coverage, high speed bandwidth…the works. No need to keep this place a secret any more. Just keep me posted if anyone has a change of heart over there," Sanderson said.

"I will. Just make sure you take a lot of pictures of that helicopter. I'd like to see one with you in the pilot's seat. I'll pass it on to remind everyone."

"Take care, my friend. Thanks again for betting on an old horse," Sanderson said.

"I only bet on winners. See you shortly."

Sanderson hung up and walked into the kitchen to find a strong drink. He stopped halfway, with a better plan already forming. There was no sense in drinking alone, when it was clearly time for a celebration at the compound. He just wished everyone could be here for it.