Standing Among The Tombstones, The Showdown Trilogy Book 3 (The Last Brigade 6) by William Alan Webb

Author:William Alan Webb [Webb, William Alan]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2023-05-08T16:00:00+00:00

Invited to eat with El Mofty and some of his lieutenants, hunger and thirst left Steeple ready to eat damned near anything put in front of him. To his surprise, the food was quite good. Simple, but tasty and plentiful. Corn tortillas stuffed with tomatoes, some green plants that resembled lettuce and had a bitter taste, something with the consistency of cucumber that Steeple guessed was cactus, and a white meat that might or might not have been chicken. Everyone washed down their food with a greenish beverage that everyone referred to as ‘tea’, the ubiquitous term for locally brewed drinks around the world. The flavor reminded him of a Lemon Lime carbonated soda that had gone flat, only a little sweeter. All in all, Steeple had no complaints.

The Sevens eating with them all wore the red-trimmed robes that Steeple learned were only allowed for the Emir’s personal bodyguard of 200 men or so. They regarded him with suspicion, and made no attempt to disguise it. Yet since their Emir tolerated him, they did too, and no one said anything rude to Steeple during the entire meal.

“Does the great American general have any advice for us?” one of the older Sevens said after the dishes had been cleared away by women wearing hoods. Steeple didn’t ask their status, because the truth was, he didn’t care. He hated everything about the Caliphate, its fake prophet, fake Emir, fake book outlining the doctrines of the faith as they deviated from Islam; the whole thing was an absurdity that got out of hand. Whatever the plight of those women, it didn’t concern him. All that did concern him was figuring out a way to command Overtime again.

“The great American general does have some advice for you,” Steeple began, “you need to position your rocket-propelled grenades more strategically. You are thinking in two dimensions. Place them in concealed locations on rooftops. The enemy will be expecting ground-level threats, so surprise them. Air support will be their greatest advantage, but if you can hit a helicopter with one of those RPG rounds, it might prevent them from getting close enough to be effective.”

“You act like this is our first fight,” El Mofty replied.

Realizing that he’d pushed the Emir to the brink of patience, Steeple went quiet, but only for a moment. Honed instincts warned him when to press home his point, and when not to. In that moment, he felt there was nothing to lose.

“I am told that you have IEDs.”

“IEDs?” said the man who ask the first question.

“Improvised Explosive Device. A homemade bomb.”

“We have those.”

“How many? I hope we have a lot of them, we’re going to need them.”

If anyone picked up on him using the inclusive ‘we’, they didn’t mention it.

“Not that many,” El Mofty said, an admission that Steeple hadn’t expected, which meant there were even less than ‘not that many’. Are there any at all? Perhaps the Emir was prepared to listen to Steeple’s advice now.

“Regarding the IEDs,” Steeple continued, “you should place them near the likely landing spots for the helicopters.

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