Father Mulligan: Jim Scott Books, #17

By Mike Jackson

Father Mulligan is the eighth and next to last book of the Asps series, and the 17th Jim Scott Book.  The Asps, finish with a mission in Zambia.  As they head back to Montana, they asked to divert to the Cayman Islands.  Jim and Holly are aboard the C-130 with them.  This leads to the first attempt on Jim's life in this novel.  The team also gets involved trying to thwart a terrorist attack in America, even though it is far outside their purview, and well against the law to do so since they are CIA and Military.  In the process, the two situations intermingle, while the FBI tries to investigate Jim.  Other problems are uncovered along the way…and dealt with…harshly.  Also, during the course of the book, Holly has to deal with a dream she had, which leads to an eerie meeting.

 

One would think given fair warning not to mess with someone—especially someone like Jim Scott—it might be a good idea to take ones losses, and lick ones wounds.  In this novel, a warning given is ignored, leading to a cascade of events.  No matter how smart, how rich, and how ruthless a person can be…there is always someone who is smarter, richer, and, when prodded, even more ruthless.  In this book, Jim Scott is prodded.  

• Language: English
• Publisher: Mike Jackson
• Release date: Dec 28, 2022
• ISBN: 9798215064559

Mike Jackson

After serving in the Navy, Mike Jackson went into construction for a couple of years, then into banking for a few more. His next endeavor was in sales, where he spent most of the remainder of his life…until he started writing. On finding out that the most enjoyable thing of his life was writing, he's kept at it for several years and is still plodding along. Mike is married with two adult children and two grandkids. Mike and his wife have one dog at the present time, but he is a pip…and runs the house.

Book preview

1.

Senior CIA Field Operative and retired Army Special Forces Sergeant Major Bruce Edmonds whispered, Commence, as he squeezed off a killing shot with his silenced sniper rifle.  Several other lethal shots were fired from other silenced rifles at almost the same time.  The twelve insurgents/terrorists surrounding a small house-like structure—which was really no more than a two-room shack—dropped without a sound.

Even as they hit the ground, two very quiet dune buggies were speeding toward the shack.  They both stopped at about the same time—one in front of the building, the other behind it.  Recently promoted Marine Master Sergeant and Navy SEAL, Al (Bear) Turner, with Marine Major and Navy SEAL Billy Garcia, jumped out of the buggy in front.  They headed to, then through, the front door of the shack.  In the rear, Navy Machinist Mate Chief Petty Officer and Seabee Pete Sokolowski, along with Army Special Forces Master Sergeant Ike Hill, jumped out of their buggy, headed for the rear door. 

All four men had specially designed, silenced nine-millimeter hand guns—called Asps, as was the team they belonged to.  Ike was followed closely by Air Forces Special Forces Staff Sergeant Medic John (Jack) Littlefield, Asp in hand, carrying a medical kit on his back.  Inside the shack were four more of the insurgents/terrorists, with seven members of a joint United States and British uranium exploration team—operating under a contract with the Zambian Government—being held captives for ransom by the terrorists. Three of the four terrorists were in the front room.  They died almost instantly, as Billy and Bear each fired two shots...the middle of the three terrorists being dealt a double dose of lethal wounds to his head.  In the rear, Pete killed the one terrorist there, as Ike held fire, seeing no need to use his weapon. 

Next, all five Asps started releasing the captives.  In short order, Jack determined none of the captives needed serious medical attention, so they were hurried out of the building.  By then the rest of the team, save one—which included retired Marine Brigadier General Kye Rossi MacInnis (now an CIA Agent) and her husband, retired Navy Radioman Master Chief Petty Officer and Navy SEAL, Roy (Dusty) MacInnis, (who was also now an CIA Agent)—hurried forward in the two other buggies the team had.  With them were Senior British Secret Intelligence Service (SIS) (MI6) Agent Tony Henry and British Sergeant Major Cyrus Squires.  Cyrus led a team of Special Air Service (SAS) troops.  With him were ten other SAS men, five of whom now followed on foot from their various points of concealment, with the other five staying in their places to guard against the unexpected—or, in this case, the expected—arrival of additional terrorists.  The Asps had one other member, SIS Agent Maggie Doyle Littlefield.  She was married to Jack, because of which she was on permanent loan to the CIA, to facilitate their marriage. 

Maggie was back with the crew of the C-130 that had flown the combined team into the area.  The plane was now parked some twenty-plus miles from the site of the just-concluded rescue effort.  The crew of the plane consisted of the pilot, retired Air Force Brigadier General Wendy Austin; the co-pilot, retired Air Force Major General Goose Kovarik; his son, retired Air Force Captain Chet Kovarik; and retired Air Force Captain Phil Eckstein.  Chet and Phil had both been enlisted men until late in their careers, but had retired as Captains, after being made officers by a very grateful President near the end of the War on Terror...declared over by his successor.  They both had been loadmasters on the very C-130 they presently flew in.  It had been assigned to a team, called the Janitors, which did off the books (black bag) jobs for ‘their’ President.  The plane had been purchased from the government by the leader of the Janitors when the team was disbanded, late in the President’s second term in office.  The leader of the Janitors, Jim Scott (a retired Marine Major and retired CIA field operative) and his wife, Holly, were also aboard the plane. 

At the shack, Tony, Bruce, and Dusty started a thorough search to see what possible intelligence might be there.  As they searched, the seven freed captives were placed in two of the buggies.  Each buggy could carry up to six, but five was a more comfortable fit.  There were two seats in the front, a fifty-caliber gun mount with a seat, and another seat capable of holding three in the rear—though with two, it was more comfortable.  It had been predetermined the seven hostages would be driven to the plane immediately.  One of the freed men would sit in one of the gun mounts.  Kye would sit in another, while Dusty would drive one buggy—with one of the SAS men the other.

When everyone was placed in the buggies, Bear stuck his head in the door of the shack.  Dusty, they’re ready.

Dusty handed the few things of interest he’d found to Bruce, nodded, then headed for the doorway.  As he did, one of the SAS troops, perched high in one of the trees surrounding the building, grumbled, Sergeant Major, you were right about the possibility of unwanted guests arriving.  Three trucks, canvas covers in the rear, are heading down the road leading here.  Best guess would be ten to fourteen men possible in the rear of each.  I’d say about fifteen minutes out.

The entire team was using communication sets set to the same frequency.  Sergeant Major Squires looked at Bruce, who growled, Dusty, get going.  Cyrus, let’s set a nice little ambush for these bozos.

Pregnant idea, old chap.

As Dusty hurried to take his place in the driver’s seat of the buggy he’d drive, Bruce ordered, Bear, you and Billy set out a few claymores, just in case we need them.  I’d just as soon we appropriate one of their trucks, so hold off with detonating the claymores, unless absolutely necessary.  Billy, when you guys get through, you switch to armor-piercing rounds for your rifle.

Billy nodded as he hurried off to help Bear, while Cyrus and Bruce started placing their men for the coming ambush.  Both men were pleased to note it was starting to get dark, since all members of the group had night vision gear.  Even if the enemy had the same gear, they probably wouldn’t be wearing them as they pulled into their compound.  When Billy and Bear finished their mine laying, they headed off to join the others.  As he went, Billy removed the clip from his sniper rifle, stopped to eject the round in the chamber, and picked it up to put back into the clip he’d just removed.  He inserted the clip of armor-piercing ammunition into the rifle.  Unlike several sniper rifles, which are one shot, these specially made sniper rifles were equipped to handle a clip of twelve rounds.  The rifles all members of the group were using were specially made just under fifty-caliber weapons.  The combined team joked about the rifles, as they called them their forty-nine-and-a-half rifles. 

The SAS troops were equipped with the rifles by Jim Scott, who had a small arms plant not too far from his ranch in Montana, co-owned with a Cherokee Indian tribe in the area.  The arrangement at the plant was jokingly referred to by Jim as ‘his money, their muscle.’  In fact, the rifles had been designed by a long-time friend of Jim’s.  The Asp handguns the Asps and Tony Henry carried had been designed by Jim, with the initial help of an old friend and comrade-in-arms by the name of Billy Longbow, who had been part of the old Janitor team until killed on a mission.  Billy Garcia had been named Billy after Billy Longbow.  Billy’s father, Hector Garcia, a retired Marine Master Sergeant—as had been Billy Longbow—had started out in boot camp with Billy.  He served most of his Marine career with him.  Billy Longbow had belonged to the same Cherokee tribe Jim was partnered with in the small arms factory.

The combined team carried three types of ammunition for the sniper rifles.  The most commonly used was anti-personnel ammunition, which exploded a millisecond after striking the intended target...in addition to that ammunition, there were the armor-piercing rounds Billy now had in his rifle—plus incendiary rounds, used when the enemy was in a structure, and needed to be herded outside the building.  Each member of the combined team had one clip each of the two types of rounds not normally used.

***

While the ambush was being set up, Dusty was leading the two-buggy caravan toward the C-130.  He called ahead to tell them he was coming, so his group would not be received as an enemy force...though he knew the likelihood of it happening was slim, since those on the plane had excellent night vision gear at their disposal.

***

When the three trucks came into view, Bruce muttered, Hold fire unless they turn to flee on seeing their dead comrades.  If they do, Billy, you make damn sure you stop ‘em.

You got it, replied Billy, as he readied himself to take what action was needed.

The driver and man alongside him in the cab of the first truck saw the bodies almost at once.  The driver was told to make a U-turn, then hold while the other two trucks pulled into the compound grounds.  When he did, the man next to the driver—who was the leader of the overall operation—rolled down his window.  He signaled the other two trucks to stop.  Next, he ordered the men in the rear of the three trucks to get out to start a careful search of the area, including the shack.  When most of those men had gotten down to start looking around, Bruce growled, Target practice, folks, even as he squeezed off a silent shot that found it’s mark, killing his target.

Faced with a murderous barrage of fire, and having had no idea where it was coming from, many of the men either tried to return to the trucks, or head for the shack.  The leader of the terrorists told his driver to leave the area immediately.  But even as the truck started to move, Billy fired through the open rear of the truck, through the cab, on into the engine of the truck.  The truck’s engine made a few sounds of protest, before it stopped only a few feet from where it had started.  The third truck pulled out to swing around the truck in front of it...and met the same fate.  Billy fired through the windshield of the remaining truck.  The shot passed through the windshield, the driver’s forehead, then on out the rear of the truck. 

The terrorists had not failed to fire back...but at nothing they could see.  Their attackers were well hidden.  Their silent rifles also used ammunition that was all but smokeless, with almost no flashpoint, for the terrorists to fire at.  Faced with such a situation, they fired blindly toward they knew not what.  Even with their haphazard return fire, they managed to wing one of the SAS troops in the arm.  Bruce’s left arm was also grazed just slightly, while another round took a chunk out of his leg.  The attackers had seven men high up in trees.  Those men were having a field day, as they could see almost all the terrorists while suffering not a shot anywhere near them.

When the terrorists realized the trucks offered no safe haven, those who could, made their way to the shack.  Once sure all the remaining enemy force were in the shack, Bruce muttered, Tony, Bear—please be so kind as to start a little fire for us.

Both men knew he meant to put their clip of incendiary rounds in their rifles.  Both did so without a word.  Loaded up, they started pumping round after round of the shells into the shack, which in no time began to blaze away.  The fleeing terrorists made easy pickings for the team.  Soon all was still.  Bruce stood up.  Okay, let’s check them out.  Cyrus, you come with me, along with Bear, Billy, and Ike.  The rest of you, hold fast, to make sure no one is faking it out there.  Any movement, please stop said movement.

As he stood up, Ike joked, Bruce, we’ve been spending too much time with our British friends—you’re starting to sound like one of them.

Tony grunted, I’ll remember you said that, Ike.

Amid a few chuckles, the men designated followed Bruce.  They systematically made sure all the terrorists were dead...helping a few along the road to death on finding them not quite to the desired state.  When the task was complete, Bear started to pick up the unused mines, with Billy’s help.  The team soon loaded up in the two remaining buggies they had used to get to the camp, along with the truck so nicely preserved for that purpose.  When they were underway toward the C-130, Bruce called ahead to let those there know they were headed back.  He also told Wendy—to whom he was speaking—to let Dusty know the other two buggies weren’t needed for the return trip.

***

When everyone was aboard, with the plane’s engines warmed up, Bruce told Billy to fire a few rounds into the engine of the truck being left behind.  Soon the plane took off, headed for Nairobi, the capital city of Kenya, where the plane bringing the British contingent had been left at the start of the combined mission.  Their plane would take the SAS troops, with the freed hostages, back to England.  Tony Henry had already asked if the C-130 could drop him off at Jamaica on its way back to Montana. 

***

After those going on in the English plane left, the C-130 flown by Wendy took off on a heading for Jamaica, before going home to Montana.  Well into the trip, Jim and Holly came to the rear of the plane, after having been relieved in the cockpit.  Holly had relieved Wendy for a break, before doing the same for Goose.  When he returned, she headed back with Jim, who had been relieved as navigator by Dusty.  They were talking gently as they reached the lounging section of the plane.  Jim had installed a few easy chairs, as well as a few beds, for the crew and team to use during long flights.  As they walked up to the others, Jim shook his head.  Oh, no—not again, Pete.

Pete had been retelling for the nobody-could-remember-how-many-times, a story of a bit of golfing he and Jim had experienced recently.  Neither was very adept at the sport.  Jim had taken a mighty swing...only to dribble the ball about twenty feet down the fairway, off the tee.  He had asked for a mulligan.  Pete had less than politely told him ‘no.’  Now Pete was at the point where he had told Jim ‘no,’ as Jim and Holly walked up.  He just smiled at Jim’s comment.  Holly sighed.  Dammit, Pete, I’ve heard your golfing story so often, I actually had a dream about mulligans—or, more precisely, about a Father Mulligan.  Anybody know a Father Mulligan?

Both Jim and Pete were Catholics, though Holly was not.  Some of the others of the crew were also Catholic.  All said they had never heard of a Father Mulligan, even as kidding and joking around continued about various things.  Just as Tony was about to offer his two cents worth on the subject of golf, his cell phone rang.  He answered it to find his boss, Sir Alistair Baldwin, the Chief of SIS, on the other end of the call.  He listened before he replied, Sir, I’m with Jim and his people, on the way to Jamaica.  Our lads are already on the way home, as I told you when I called about the success of the mission a while ago.  Let me ask Jim and Bruce if they’re game.  Hold on, please.

He looked at Jim, then glanced at Bruce.  The Chief says we’ve got a live one on the Cayman Islands.  Abu Mohammad—whatever his real name is—we don’t know, as you know—is reported to be hiding out there in one of the more or less deserted sections of Grand Cayman.  Has about twenty of his al-Qaida followers with him.  What in the world he’s doing there is anybody’s guess.  We have what is reported to be accurate information of exactly where he is.  Want to give it a go?

Bruce looked at Jim and nodded, even as Jim mumbled, Sure, why not?  I’m sure you can clear a landing wherever we decide to set down, if not at the airport.

Tony nodded, Absolutely, before he spoke back into this phone.  They’re game, sir.  You can just send the information you have into Jim’s master computer.  He can retrieve it here on the plane.  You know the drill.  We’ll take it from there.  Have any questions, I’ll ring you up.

Tony listened a bit, then chuckled before ending the conversation with his superior.  He looked at Jim, and grinned.  Already in your computer.  Says they’ve got GPS location.  He’s checked it out.  Said there is a nice place to land nearby.

Jim nodded as he headed for a computer linked to the one at the ranch.  As he went, he told Holly to let Wendy know to change course to Grand Cayman.  As soon as he had downloaded all the information, he pulled up and printed out a small-scale version of a topographical map from his collection.  While he did, Bruce and Tony watched as he laid the information out on a table.  The team members in the rear of the plane gathered around.  They soon agreed on the location of the terrorists, as there was only one small building in the area where the GPS indicated they could be found.

Jim hurried forward.  He showed what he had to Wendy, as Goose took over flying the plane while she went over the material.  After looking at the map, she shrugged.  "Well, if your map is correct, Jim—and they always are—this area where the trees separate the building from the open field should do...seems to have a slight upslope.  If so, I guess I could try a dead-stick, so they don’t know we’ve arrived.  Damned shame our infrared is on the blink.  But we should do a flyover anyhow...from enough altitude that even if they spot us, they probably won’t think anything of it.

Goose, sitting right seat, glanced over at Wendy, and chuckled.  You’re the only pilot I know who would casually discuss a dead-stick landing with a 130 on a grass field you have never seen before, Wendy.

Aw, piece of cake.

2.

By the time Wendy flew high over the intended landing site, a plan of action for the immediate aftermath of the landing had been settled on.  When it was time for the landing, no one would be needed to navigate.  Bruce, with his slightly wounded arm and a bit more severely wounded leg, had been elected to act as engineer.  With Bruce up front, Jim would lead the raid.  Holly and Pete would be at the loading ramp, to hop right off as soon as the plane stopped.  Their job would be to set up a walking perimeter around the plane, while Phil and Chet freed three of the four dune buggies aboard for the trip to the presumed site of the terrorist camp.  After Jim, Dusty, and Kye drove the three buggies off the plane, Phil and Chet would relieve Pete and Holly.

Going on the raid would be Jim, driving one buggy, with Ike on the fifty-caliber machine gun, Billy, and Pete riding.  Dusty would have Bear on the gun, with Jack, and Maggie riding.  Kye would have Holly on the gun, with Tony riding.

Wendy, Goose, Bruce, Phil, and Chet would look after the plane.  Under normal circumstances, Bruce would have gone with the team, wounds or no wounds, but with the infrared system on the plane not functioning, the added protection for the plane was felt to be desirable.  The C-130 had been used in Kenya for two reasons.  One was Wendy would be flying it—plus it was considered a good thing by all concerned.  Secondly, the infrared system would hopefully spot any potential problems, thus giving an accurate count of the terrorists and hostages.  The problem was, when they over flew the site of the terrorists’ camp, the system failed to work.  A fast check by Phil, sitting in the engineer’s seat, and Pete, the master mechanic aboard, turned up nothing they could put their finger on as to why the system was down.  It had been decided the system would be checked out in detail once the plane returned to the ranch.

After having seen the building shown on the map—with two tents added since the map had been made—all felt they were in the correct location.  Now, as Wendy made a wide turn and came down to just above sea level, all was ready.  Those in the rear simply waited.  Sure she was lined up properly, Wendy cut the power on the plane.  It coasted in nicely to the selected landing area.  It was a grassy stretch of land with a slight upgrade...well more than long enough to handle the plane’s powerless landing.  When she neared a stand of trees at the far end of the make-do runway, she stomped on the left brake, with the plane spinning around nicely...pointing back the way it had just come from.

Goose let out a sigh, as he glanced at Wendy.  Very nicely done, My Lady.  Not sure I could have pulled it off—at least not as well as you did.  You’re one hell of a pilot.  Who’d have ever thought a tiny, sexy, redhead could have pulled it off.  Think I best go check my drawers to make sure they’re empty.

Wendy laughed as Holly, standing next to the control panel of the plane’s ramp, pushed the down button.  The ramp slowly started to drop.  As soon as it touched down, a man ran toward the rear of the plane.  On seeing him, Holly yelled, Bomb...get down.

As she yelled, Holly dove to the floor of the plane while drawing the Asp from her shoulder holster.  She fired off a quick shot, just before she slammed into the floor of the plane.  Holly had seen the dead man’s control in the man’s hand, as well as his thumb on the lever.  She knew what was to come, so was not surprised in the least when the bomb attached to the suicide murderer went off with a horrific explosion, sending nails and ball bearings into the plane.  Two of the nails hit Holly in her leg, one of the ball bearings struck her right arm.

Pete, who had been standing on the other side of the plane, had already taken two steps down the ramp before he too saw the terrorist.  As he reached for his Asp, he was less fortunate.  He had made a belated dive to the base of the ramp as he too fired at the bomber, but he was just a bit too slow.  He was cut to pieces with a hail of nails and ball bearings.

Even though the bomber, hit in the forehead by Holly’s miraculous shot, had toppled forward as he was heading to the ground—thus averting the entire force of the blast from causing catastrophic damage to the plane—the hail of nails and ball bearings entering the rear of the plane caused several other members of the group there to be hit.  Bear had taken three nails and two ball bearings to the bulletproof vest he, as well as the other team members, was wearing.  Another nail hit him in the forehead.  It penetrated about three inches right into his head.  While he didn’t even lose consciousness, he realized he’d been hit.  He reached up toward his forehead.  Jack, who along with Jim, Phil, Billy, and Ike had not been hit by any of the damaging projectiles, saw Bear’s move.  He quickly yelled, No, Bear!  Don’t touch that damned thing.  Just sit down in one of the easy chairs.  Remain totally motionless!

He added, Anyone hit, leave the nails and what not right where they hit you.  I’ll look at each as I get time.

Even as he spoke, Jack was hurrying to see if he could assist Holly and Pete.  One look at Pete told him not to bother—so he went to Holly.  He told her to lie still as he started looking over her situation.

Meanwhile, up in the cockpit, even as they heard the blast, Wendy and Goose both noticed more trouble on the way.  The stand of trees was in a semi-half-circle around the plane.  The plane had nestled down, with the rear pointed at what would have been the joint of an L—had there not been a slight rounding off of that joining—where the trees headed off in opposite directions.  More terrorists were pouring out from the surrounding trees.  When her head cleared from the concussion of the blast—which had traveled the length of the inside of the plane—she said into the plane’s intercom, We’re about to be under attack from the trees.  Look sharp back there, if you’re all okay.

Expecting no reply, she, Goose, and Bruce hurried to get up on the wings of the plane, to be better able to fire on the approaching terrorists.

On hearing Wendy’s warning, Maggie, hit in her vest, right leg, and ear, called out, I’ve got one of the Gatlings on the port side, as she hobbled over to it. 

Phil, was standing only a few feet from the other side of the plane.  I’ve got one of them over on the starboard side.

Jim, Billy, and Ike were already running to