Reaper: Drone Strike by Nicholas Irving

Author:Nicholas Irving [Irving, Nicholas & Tata, A. J.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Military, War & Military, Thrillers, Fiction
ISBN: 9781250240750
Google: PHdbyAEACAAJ
Amazon: B07ZBW8JZ3
Goodreads: 51179674
Publisher: St. Martin's Press
Published: 2020-05-12T05:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER 17

Sassi Cavezza

Sassi shuddered, covered her ears, and bolted into the corner as men were running in the corridor and yelling in Arabic.

“Quick, get the soldier,” one had said. A door had opened. A chain had rattled. Mumbling and heavy groans followed.

Sassi removed from her boot the small Beretta Bascula knife that her captors had overlooked. They’d retrieved from her Beretta’s personally delivered pistol that she carried for self-preservation and which had preserved her this morning, and her Beretta dagger. At least she was still alive.

After the second explosion, Sassi figured they were coming for her. Everything was happening so fast, she figured that rival gangs or even the Russians were here to take whatever they wanted, including her. There was a faint sliver of hope that the UN had dispatched a rescue operation, but she wouldn’t let her mind go there only to get her hopes dashed. The UN couldn’t make decisions quickly enough to have a force on the ground and executing within twenty-four days, much less twenty-four hours. The leadership would debate which nations would contribute forces, who would be in command, what risks were acceptable, and so on, until she was dead or wished she were. The violence happening outside her door reminded her of a basement she’d been locked in when Zarqawi had been executing so many civilians and nongovernmental organization employees.

She remembered in Fallujah she had huddled in the corner, waiting for Zarqawi to barge in and film her beheading. Just as she was now, she had been holding this very same knife, prepared to fight to the death. Then, U.S. Marines had come storming in, led by the village elder, and she was almost insulted that they had come instead of Zarqawi. Sassi had of course been ultimately thankful that the Marines had saved her. It was a completely irrational thought that she could have defended herself against Zarqawi and his thugs, but nonetheless, she was a proud woman and believed in her abilities.

Sassi also believed that lightning would never strike twice. There was no way that this was some rescue attempt meant to save her from the clutches of this band of pirates. While she had no idea where she was, the voices she had been listening to possessed the Lebanese dialect of Arabic, rich with its Mediterranean influences. Softer words and hushed tones, almost sounding apologetic. Bartering tones, where give-and-take is expected, as opposed to the harsher inflections of Iraq and Saudi Arabia, where demands ruled the day.

Convinced that she was about to duel with someone meaning her harm, Sassi backed into the corner to the right of the door. She had studied the hinges, welded in place, and noticed the door opened inward. When the intruder came in, she would have a brief advantage. She knew where he was entering, and he had no clue where in the room she would be. It was her best shot. After that, the odds were that he would be heavily armed and able to quickly subdue her.

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