Project StrikeForce by Swaim Kevin Lee

Author:Swaim, Kevin Lee [Swaim, Kevin Lee]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Picadillo Publishing
Published: 2014-04-26T23:00:00+00:00

Nancy hung up her phone and turned to Deion. “Okay, they’ve got eyes on the drone data and they’ve tapped the cell phone towers in the area. Clark is working on overriding Rumple’s commands. As soon as the orders come in, Delta will be back on site, but it’s going to take time.”

“How good is the drone data?” he asked.

“Just video and night vision. It’s enough to let us know if we’re in trouble, but it’s not armed.”

He didn’t like it, but Jaabir offered their only lead. “If we want this guy, it’s all we’re going to get.”

She nodded. “I agree. He’s too valuable. We need him.”

He could tell she was pissed about Rumple, but at least she was focusing on the mission. “Let’s tell Val and Neil.”

He found them at the truck, checking their M4’s. “We’re on. Jaabir should be back anytime. We’ve got drone coverage and we’re getting the Delta callback orders rescinded, but they probably won’t make it back before the meeting time.”

“We understand,” Valerie said, concerned. “It’s just this is a little more cowboy than we’re used to.”

He grabbed her hand and gave it a quick squeeze. “It’ll be fine, Val. I wouldn’t let anything happen to you.”

Neil squinted at him, uncertain. “What about Nancy?” he asked, motioning to the house. “Can we count on her?”

He laughed. “She’s the most dangerous one here.”

Neil nodded, but the skepticism on his face suggested he did not share Deion’s opinion. The sun was almost below the horizon, and what little light it shed cast long red shadows down the street. They finished their weapons check and entered the house to wait for Jaabir.

He removed an ear-piece from a pouch on his belt and plugged it in to his PRC-148 and keyed the mic, “Clark? Do you read me?”

“Loud and clear, Deion,” came Clark’s voice seconds later. “We’re patched in to the MBITR network. Karen has your position on-screen. We’re combing the area for signs of suspicious activity.”

“Roger that. Keep us informed.”

Nancy pulled the heavy curtains aside over the front window to watch the front of the building. She motioned to him right before there was a soft knock on the door. He opened it and found Jaabir waiting, his AK slung low.

“We take your truck,” Jaabir said.

They piled in the Toyota, Neil driving with Jaabir in the passenger seat, Valerie, Nancy and Deion in the back, guns ready. Deion left his seat-belt unfastened, just in case someone threw in a bomb. It was easier to bail out, a lesson learned from his previous time in Afghanistan.

Jaabir guided them through back alleys and side streets, headlights off, navigating by the meager light cast from open windows. It took less than ten minutes before they came to a small house, a green bulb glowing in the front window.

“Here,” Jaabir directed.

They exited the Toyota, weapons lowered but alert. It looked like any other street in Kandahar, the dirt road nearly empty as the people heeded the call for evening prayers, the sound blaring from a mosque in the distance.

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