Threat Vector by Clancy Tom & Greaney Mark

Author:Clancy, Tom & Greaney, Mark [Clancy, Tom & Greaney, Mark]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Action & Adventure, Thrillers, thriller, Mystery, Adventure, Azizex666, Fiction, War, Suspense, War & Military
ISBN: 9780399160455
Google: K_NJMgEACAAJ
Amazon: 0399160450
Barnesnoble: 0399160450
Goodreads: 15985392
Publisher: Putnam Adult
Published: 2012-12-04T08:00:00+00:00

FORTY

Adam Yao had lowered the backrest of his driver’s seat in the Mitsubishi minivan all the way back, and he lay flat, his body out of the sight line of the windows. He did not move a muscle, but his mind raced.

Just thirty seconds earlier, a large twelve-passenger van had rolled up with its lights off, forty feet away in the alley, not far from Yao’s position in the parking lot. Adam ducked down before the driver noticed him in the minivan, but Adam did get a look at the man behind the wheel. He looked American, he wore a baseball cap and had a radio headset, and behind him in the vehicle Yao saw several other dark figures.

“Adam, what’s going on?” It was Ding’s voice in his earpiece, but Adam did not answer. Instead he reached for his backpack in the front passenger seat. He pulled out a rectangular hand mirror, and carefully raised it above the driver’s-side window. Through it he could see the twelve-passenger van. It had stopped near the exit to the strip club, and the side door had opened up. Seven men slipped out silently; they all held black rifles close to their bodies, and they wore small backpacks, sidearms, and body armor.

As he lay silent and still, Ding’s voice came over his earpiece yet again. “What is it, Adam?”

Yao replied, “There’s a fucking A-Team back here. Not Marshals, not CIA. These guys are probably Jay-Sock.” JSOC, Joint Special Operations Command, and pronounced “Jay-Sock” by those aware of the organization, was the Department of Defense’s direct-action special-mission units, SEAL Team Six or Delta Force. Yao knew that the Pentagon would not send anyone else to do this job but JSOC. “I think they are about to come in through the back door, and it sure doesn’t look like they’re heading in to watch boobs jiggle.”

“Shit,” Ding said. “How many?”

“I count seven operators,” Adam said.

Jack said, “There are probably four or five times that number of armed Triads in there. You need to stop them before they get slaughtered.”

“Right,” Adam said, and he quickly opened his door and slid out of the Mitsubishi. The Americans at the back door were facing the other direction, seconds away from moving into Club Stylish. Yao decided to call out to them, but he’d taken no more than one step when he was knocked to the ground from behind. His earpiece flew from his ear and he crashed face-first onto the wet alleyway, his breath knocked from his lungs.

He did not see the man who took him down, but he felt the weight of a knee on his back, he felt the burn in his shoulders as his arms were yanked roughly behind him, and the sting in his wrists as his hands were secured with flexi-cuffs. Before he could speak, he heard someone tearing electrical tape from a roll, and the tape was wrapped tightly around his head several times at the mouth, gagging him roughly.

He was dragged by his feet in the parking lot; he fought to keep his face from rubbing against the asphalt.

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