The Taste of Fear by Bates Jeremy

Author:Bates, Jeremy [Bates, Jeremy]
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub, azw3
ISBN: 9781937178192
Publisher: WiDo Publishing
Published: 2012-08-31T18:30:00+00:00

Chapter 20

Friday, December 27, 3:32 p.m.

Stuttgart, Germany

Chief Master Sergeant Larry Cohen was sitting behind his desk in the United States Africa Command. He finished off the dregs of his cold coffee, then drew his thumb and forefinger across his tired eyes. Talk about a long bloody day. He was the senior enlisted leader of AFRICOM, a newly created subcommand that was responsible for U.S. military operations in fifty-three African nations. Yesterday’s bombings of the Kenyan and Tanzanian embassies were its first major crisis. Larry had just ended a secure video conference with the White House Situation Room, and his boss, the defense secretary, had made it very clear he wanted all twenty-three hostages found within the next twenty-four hours. Which was next to impossible, but which, of course, Larry had not said.

The phone on his desk rang. It had been ringing all fucking day.

He picked up the receiver. “Cohen,” he said curtly.

“Shalom, Chief,” a familiar voice said.

Larry sat back in his chair and smiled humorlessly. “I was expecting a call from you, Danny. Isn’t this exactly the kind of thing your man is paying you the big bucks to keep his ass out of?”

“And get his ass out of.”

“This is out of even your league, my friend.”

“Probably. But I’m not calling for permission.”

“What do you want to know?”

“Everything.”

Larry shook his head. “Christ, Danny. I don’t get anything from you in six years. And now you call up and expect the works?”

“What are old friends for?”

Larry had known Danny Zamir since they were kids. Both had grown up in the same apartment building in the same sleepy Jerusalem neighborhood, where they had spent much of their free time out front San Simon Monastery smoking cigarettes and chasing girls. When Larry was seventeen, his parents moved to the U.S. His father was American, his mother Israeli, giving him dual citizenship. He didn’t care much for university, so he enlisted in the Air Force instead, entering into active duty in 1988. Danny, meanwhile, joined the Tzahal—Israeli Defense Forces—and less than eight months later he volunteered for the Sayeret Matkal, the country’s equivalent to the SAS or SEALs, an elite special operational forces unit dealing in deep reconnaissance, counterterrorism, and intelligence gathering. Despite the distance and the passing of the years, however, they had remained close friends.

“The truth is,” Larry said, “I don’t have much to tell you.”

“Humor me,” Danny said.

“They’re an Al Qaeda cell that’s been active in Somalia. Last year we learned that three senior members tied to the ’98 bombings had popped up in Afmadow and Hayi. We hit them hard. AC-130 gunship. Attack helicopters. A dozen dead, including their leaders. We thought we shut them down.”

“The media’s saying there were three vans at each embassy?”

“Correct. We’re working with local police to set up roadblocks along major roads. But it’s like fishing for minnows with a tuna net. If you ask me, they’re already out of the cities. And if they have any smarts, they’ll have all split up, which is going to make finding them that much harder.

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