The Latakia Intercept: A Ross Brannan Thriller (The Secret Cold War Book 1) by R G Ainslee

Author:R G Ainslee [Ainslee, R G]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2018-04-14T22:00:00+00:00

Tuesday, 2 October

At the morning briefing, Wyndham prepared to present his daily update. His mood hadn't changed for the better. His clever eyes shifted to me and back to a yellow teletype message sheet.

"A large concentration of Egyptian forces is now observable." A nervous urgency pervaded his words. "Israeli intelligence detected large troop movements towards the canal. This coincides with an announcement by the Egyptian high command of a weeklong exercise adjacent to the Suez."

Soldano interrupted, "Are the Israelis going to respond?"

Wyndham spoke with obvious irritation, "Appears not. The Israelis dismissed these deployments as ordinary training exercises." He shifted his attention back to the yellow sheet. "Yesterday, Israeli missile boats put to sea in apparent maneuvers, but returned to port because of the upcoming holiday. Both the Israelis and Arabs have religious seasons that coincide: Yom Kippur and Ramadan. One may conclude this is either an impediment to an attack … or an opportunity to deal a decisive blow."

I asked, "Which is it?" The way things were unfolding made me uncomfortable.

"I don't anticipate the Israelis to wait for the balloon to go up. I expect them to deliver the first strike. Even if the Arabs struck first, the IDF would be on them in a heartbeat. Neither the Egyptians or Syrians possess the organizational capability to pull-off a true surprise attack."

I didn't enquire further about Penwell or the bags. Decided it would be fruitless.

Hakim still bothered me. I had decided not to mention the near confrontation. No one was interested in rocking the boat. It was something I would have to deal with on my own. My anger with Anya had cooled. It bothered me that she might be telling the truth. I realized I would probably never find out for sure.

* * *

We took-off mid-morning on our first scheduled sortie of the day. Wyndham's news about increasing tensions stimulated me to sharpen my focus. However, the flight was routine: Tall Kings, Barlocks, and Spoon Rests, no signals associated with the SA-6 system.

On the ground, I stood on the wing with arms crossed and made no effort to hide my interest in the Air Force sergeant and his messenger bags. He exited his vehicle and approached with a nervous gait, his eyes avoiding my stare.

"Hey, I still want to know what we're carrying." I tried to sound resolute.

He ignored my challenge and removed two full bags and replacing them with an empty.

I hopped to the tarmac. "Need some help? Looks like you got an extra one today."

He took off at a brisk pace towards the car. I thought about chasing him down, but Soldano and Morgan were already on their way back to the plane.

Morgan glanced back at the speeding car. "Looks like he's running late."

"I wonder why?"

Soldano said, "Never mind him, let's mind our own business."

"You still not curious about what we're carrying?"

"Brannan. Give it up. If you're so obsessed, ask Wyndham."

A few minutes after reaching cruising altitude, Soldano said to Morgan, "I'm unhappy with our results. I want

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