The Last of the Dog Team by William W. Johnstone

Author:William W. Johnstone [Johnstone, William W.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: General, Fiction, Suspense, History, Action & Adventure, Espionage, Westerns, Military, Vietnam War
ISBN: 9780786015719
Publisher: Pinnacle
Published: 1980-01-02T00:00:00+00:00

The Last of the Dogteam

BOOK THREE

TEN

The officer in charge of the team called a halt: a rest period for which all were grateful. It gave the men time to remove the leaches that had worked their way up boots, under field pants, and onto flesh, puffing up to three and four times their normal size, sucking the blood of the men. A South American officer moved down the line of sprawled men to stop in front of Terry. He squatted down, sipping water from his canteen.

“It won't be long nbw, Sergeant. Three miles. Are you ready?”

“I know who to kill, if that's what you mean,” Staff Sergeant Kovak took a sip of water from his own canteen. “Are you certain our man is there?”

Major Pizarro shrugged. "If my informant is correct. That's the problem with torture: people will tell you anything you want to hear

191

just to make the pain stop. But, yes, I believe the general will be at this camp.“ His eyes shifted to the still sealed gun case, part of it resting on Terry's leg. ”The weapon, you are certain of its reliability? It will do the job?"

“You get me to the man,” Terry said calmly, “and I'll do the rest.”

“The bullet—it really explodes on contact?” the Latin was not fully convinced.

“Yes, it's tipped with an explosive. Don't worry, Major. Just get me to the target.”

The Major regarded the Sergeant. “You're very young to be so highly rated by your government. I had expected a much older man.”

Terry was not disturbed; his age had come up in question many times before. “I have good eyes, calm nerves, and a steady trigger finger, Major. Ill do my job.”

The Latin nodded. “Yes , , . well, rest now—sleep if you can. I'll wake you in about an hour.”

Terry closed his eyes. To the amazement of the Major, he was asleep in less than three minutes, sleeping as peacefully as if he were on his way to a ballet, instead of an assassination.

“General Flores,” “Ferret briefed Terry, showing him the man's picture from a thick dossier. ”Hard line Communist stirring up trouble among the masses. The Man says send

k

i .

a gun—you're the gun."

Terry nodded, studying the face of the General he was to kill. “This is an Agency shoot. Why don't they send some of their own people?”

“Because they asked for you, hot-shot. Now, listen: the way this thing sounds to me, youTl have time for two shots, maybe three. The friendlies can get you to within maybe five hundred meters.” Ferret showed Terry pictures of the camp and aerial photographs of the terrain surrounding the camp, marking an X where Terry would shoot. “Can you do it?”

“No sweat, Colonel.”

“There'll be plenty of sweat, all yours, with much pain—if you miss and get caught.”

“Colonel, if you have doubts about me, send someone else.” Military or not, Terry spoke his mind and pulled very few punches.

Ferret smiled. “Kovak, this country is very important to us. We need all the friends we can get in South America.

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