Drone Strike by Dale Brown

Author:Dale Brown
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: HarperCollins
Published: 2014-04-07T04:00:00+00:00

20

Iran

THEY TOOK A SHORTCUT ACROSS THE RIDGE, DRIVING on a hard-­pack road that got them out in front of Granderson and the others. Grease had been ­studying the maps and gotten advice from Granderson; there was an Iranian army barracks about twenty-­five miles ahead on the highway. Once past that, they should have an easy time north; they could cut south of the cities of Semna¯n and Sorkheh, then follow the highway west for another two hours or so before veering once more onto narrower roads in the mountain foothills. At this point they would pick up one of the trails the Delta team had scouted as an alternate route to the target area, aiming for a hiding place originally planned as part of the escape route. Ironically, it was within a half-­hour drive of their new target area. They would stay there through the next day, achieve their objective, and leave.

It was easy when you laid it out step by step that way. Simple and direct.

Turk leaned into the back, grabbing one of their last two bottles of water. He took two sips, then put it back.

“Rationing yourself?” Grease asked.

“Yeah.”

“There should be more water at the place where we stop. A team went in and set it up two weeks ago.”

“What if it’s been found?”

“Nobody’ll find it.”

Turk folded his arms. “I hope you’re right.”

“Granderson and the truck are two miles ahead,” said Grease. “Pickup’s about a half mile ahead of that. Gorud’s driving. The Israeli swapped with him in the troop truck.”

“Why?”

“His leg’s pretty screwed up. Didn’t you notice?”

“I thought he was all right.”

Grease shook his head. Badly battered when they encountered the police, the Israeli’s knee had locked; most likely there were torn ligaments and cartilage damage as well.

“You think Green and the others are going to make it?” Turk asked.

Grease thought for a moment before answering. “Yeah. Probably.”

“Probably or maybe?”

Another pause as he weighed his estimate. “Probably,” he announced at last.

“That’s what everybody has to say, right?” asked Turk, suddenly oppressed by the weight of what they had to do. His energy had completely drained, taking his optimism with it.

“You know what will help?” asked Grease. “Focus your mind on the next checkpoint, the next step along the way. If you try to keep the whole mission in your head, it may wig you out. But if you go from A to B to C, it’ll be much easier. It’s a fact.”

Turk’s ears perked up—­he heard a jet nearby, low.

Two of them.

“Somebody’s looking for us,” he told Grease, thumbing above.

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