AMIRA: A Logan West Universe Thriller by Matthew Betley

Author:Matthew Betley [Betley, Matthew]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2021-04-05T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter 16

Paolich Airport, Southern Sudan

0623 Local Time

The dim morning light increased in intensity as Amira Cerone walked back across the runway of the Paolich Airport towards the camp the USAID workers had established. She’d driven back towards the pumping facility, abandoned the Hilux outside the north perimeter, retrieved her backpack, changed clothes, and begun the several-mile hike back to camp. Her adrenaline from the firefights and mission accomplishment had energized her for the long walk. She’d contemplated her final conversation with Omar, her only regret that her leadership wanted him alive.

“You know, you’re lucky. If it were up to me, you’d be in the afterlife with your friend,” Amira had said as she’d thrown some QuickClot on the stubs at the first joints of his two fingers and bandaged them. “But you’re a message, and I need you to understand that. But even if you don’t get it, I’m sure others will.”

“And what is that?” Omar had asked, cradling his mutilated left hand in his right, his wrists still zip-tied together.

“That you should’ve never taken the pumping station, that you should’ve let the referendum play out next month. South Sudan will get its independence. Everyone knows it. Your soon-to-be country didn’t need you, no matter what your ego thinks. It will be here soon enough, and this is the critical part – if you or any other group decide to attack that or any other pumping station, it won’t be just me that comes next time. It will be a whole lot of people just like me or worse, and no matter what you think, it won’t end well for you or anyone like you.” She’d knelt down to emphasize her last words, her pale blue eyes boring into his. “Your fight is over, and you survived. For your sake, although I’m not sure you deserve it, I hope you understand that you get a second chance, which is more than the rest of your friends can say.”

He’d remained quiet, and she’d abruptly stood, turned, and walked away. She’d left the machete near his damaged Hilux and figured that it would take him a decent amount of time to hop or crawl to it, cut himself free, and escape back under whatever rock from which he’d emerged.

As Trevor would’ve said, “A job well done. Mission accomplished, and you walked out alive. That’s all you can ask for in this business.” And she knew he was right. She’d done what her country had asked of her, what they’d trained her to do, but more importantly, what she’d volunteered for. The path she walked was the one she’d chosen, and she had no regrets about her choices, including executing the wounded rebel. He hadn’t been an innocent. They all had blood on their hands.

She crossed to the other side of the runway when a male figure emerged from the main tent. As she neared him, she recognized Dr. David Granger, the US Embassy doctor, a six-foot, handsome man who wore his hair in a care-free, adult version of Justin Bieber.

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