Skulls shadows, p.21
Skull's Shadows, page 21
“Like you said,” the man insisted. “I’ll tell them you forced me.”
“That will only work so far,” Skull said putting a hand on his shoulder. “Believe me. They’ll make you talk and then you’ll tell them everything you know. I can’t let you stay.”
The man shook his head and pulled back. “I’ve done my part. More than was asked of me, and now I’m done. I’ll go home to my wife and children and that will be the end of it.”
“We can send for them later.”
Alcroft shook his head sadly. “My mother-in-law lives down the street. My wife would never agree to leave her. I’ll never talk. I won’t break. Trust me.”
Skull paused for a moment. “Okay, I guess.” He stuck out his hand. “Thanks for everything.”
Alcroft shook hands with him and smiled. “Glad to help. Now you’d better get out of here.”
“You too,” said Skull turning and walking through the door. He waited several seconds and then reversed course.
Alcroft was walking away.
Skull put one round into the back of his head. “Everyone breaks,” he whispered.
-32-
Skull made his way up to the surface and emerged into the night. The exit wasn’t far from where he had stashed his gear, so he raced to it, throwing his ruck on his back and then sprinting to the northeast toward the coast.
With good visibility from a full moon, he didn’t have to use his flashlight. He stopped to rest once, looking back at the billowing fire that marked the facility. The thermite grenades burned hot enough to ignite aluminum, and had likely started other chemicals blazing, producing a complete conflagration, especially with the fire suppression system deactivated.
Tied to a pier extending out from the beach, the moonlight revealed the shape of a Brazilian-built twin-turboprop seaplane large enough to hold a dozen men. He raced toward it, seeing the faint glow of the cockpit instruments as he approached without stealth.
A man stood outside the plane with a submachine gun.
Markis.
“Howdy, Skull. Long time no see,” said the voice.
Not Daniel; his father David. A veteran combat pilot, which made more sense. With the Eden Plague’s rejuvenating effects they could be mistaken for brothers, especially in the dark.
“Thanks for the pickup.”
“Any time,” David said, shaking Skull’s hand with a smile that seemed genuine and looking off to the southwest toward the flickering glow. “Looks like you made a mess over there. We’d best be on our way.”
“Aren’t we waiting for the team?”
“What team?” David Markis seemed genuinely puzzled.
“Spooky told me he would be hitting the lab in about…” he checked his Patek. “Ninety-five minutes?”
“Don’t know nothin’ about that. Alls he told me was, you’d trash the lab and I’d fly you away.”
Skull chuckled ruefully. “Bastard.”
“Now, now. Plenty of time for name-callin’ later.”
“Let’s go, then,” said Skull, following the senior Markis into the plane and pulling the door shut.
“Grab the copilot’s seat and strap in,” David told him, climbing into the pilot's chair. The rest of the space was taken up by cardboard boxes secured to the floor and wall by cargo netting. “I’m going to push us out of here as fast and low as I can.”
The plane moved forward into the sea and began accelerating at full throttle. The twin engines reached a high whine as the plane lifted off the water and made a sharp turn to the right before it started gaining altitude.
The compass showed them heading south, and the lights of the coast off to Skull’s right fell farther behind as the minutes passed.
“You look beat, son,” David said. “Put your head back. Nothin’ gonna happen for a couple of hours.”
Skull did as Markis instructed, resolving to just take a cat nap. He was surprised when he woke up at least three hours later. The plane flew level and easy over open water, and the sun had risen above the wide Atlantic to the east, with hardly a cloud in the sky.
“Morning,” said David. “Sleep good?”
“Fair. Did we make a clean getaway?”
“Clean as they get,” David answered. “If we hadn’t, the first we’d hear about it was an F-35 up our ass. This baby’s fast, but not that fast.” He patted the cockpit dash.
Skull nodded. “So what’s the plan?”
“We fly to a particular set of coordinates south of Puerto Rico. We set down on what I hope is a nice flat stretch of water and we meet Spooky. He’ll be in a speedboat and have a tanker with him to refuel the plane. You go with Spooky in the speedboat to Colombia and the boys and I go take these supplies to our people in Antigua.”
“Antigua?”
“Don’t ask. I already said too much. Need to know.”
“Okay,” said Skull. “You happen to have a map of the area with you?”
Markis pointed at a folded, laminated chart in a holder next to Skull.
Looking over the chart for several minutes, Skull eventually put a finger on a small airstrip on the southeast tip of Cuba. Ever since Fidel’s death, Cuba had slowly begun to become the paradise its natural beauty promised. Skull knew that, and had long planned to visit.
“There,” Skull told the pilot. “Put me down there.”
David turned and looked at him like he was crazy. “Cuba? We got it all lined up for Puerto Rico. Don’t worry, it’s part of Spooky’s plan. It’s fine.”
Skull nodded. Without hostility at David’s words he unbuckled, crawling backward out of the seat and into the cargo area. Several minutes later he returned wearing a parachute and carrying his gear, plus an inflatable life raft. He pulled one of his HK pistols and put it against David Markis’ head. “Okay, let’s try this again. You set me down where I want or I shoot you and bail out of the plane.”
David turned his head toward Skull, ignoring the gun. “You ain’t gonna shoot me, son, and we both know it.”
Skull pressed the muzzle hard into David’s temple.
“On the other hand, I’m as flexible as the next man. Semper Gumby and all that. You ain’t gotta threaten me.” Markis reached for the chart. “What’s the name of the airfield again?”
Several hours later they made an unauthorized landing on the Cuban coast. Two policemen approached the plane once it had finally stopped, with a couple of bemused beachcombers watching. Generous bribes smoothed everything over, and Skull put on his two packs containing his gear and got off the plane. At the bottom, he turned and looked back to see David peering at him. “Tell Daniel we’re even now.”
“I’ll tell him.” David smiled a toothy grin. “But now you owe me, boy.”
“Fuck off, old man,” Skull said with an answering grin and turned south.
According to the map, a little beach resort town rested not far from there. A place where the locals were polite and discreet, Skull wagered. A place where they respected a man’s privacy and where he could disappear and relax for a while.
Skull had always wanted to become truly fluent in Spanish, and he realized he could use a little time off near the ocean relaxing in the sun and breeze.
But only for a time.
Then, he’d get back to work.
His kind of work.
End of Skull’s Shadows.
Want to read the next book?
Purchase Eden’s Exodus now at Smashwords
OR
Read an excerpt first…
EDEN’S EXODUS Excerpt
Reaper looked down at the Mendoles compound from the jungle-covered hillside five hundred yards away. An enormous French style chateau surrounded by gardens and walking paths, it included a number of outbuildings to serve as garages, sheds, or additional housing. The entire complex was enclosed by a tall stone wall with concertina wire atop it. Two armed guards watched the front gate and a dozen more roamed the main house and the grounds.
Clearly, the cartel didn’t really anticipate imminent direct action; the guards were there to deter their competition and make the occupants feel safe. Undoubtedly they relied on their deep penetration of the Colombian government to give them warning against a law enforcement raid, and they would have spies and informants everywhere.
Rule of thumb calculations told her that about twice as many men loitered off shift as were visible, about half of whom would probably be elsewhere – in town or at separate homes.
Reaper tried not to squirm in the humid heat. Acclimatization to Colombia for nearly half a year had accustomed her to the worst of the humidity, but being under the jungle canopy seemed to only make matters worse. Keeping the bugs away always turned into a losing battle even with industrial strength insect repellant. She wondered idly if the mosquitoes that sucked her blood could become carriers for the Eden virus the way they had for malaria and yellow fever. If so, more power to them.
“Reaper, this is Hawkeye,” said a voice from her miniature earpiece. “Support team in position. All lines of sight clear.”
Reaper looked far to her right and thought she might be able to make out one of the men, but couldn’t be sure. They were well camouflaged and Hawkeye knew his. The man had quickly moved into the position as the team’s de facto second-in-command.
“Roger, Hawkeye,” said Reaper. “No unusual activity detected. Go to fifty percent security. Eat and get some sleep. Make sure everyone is ready for kickoff at 0300 hours.”
“Wilco,” said Hawkeye.
“And Hawkeye… keep a close eye on Blade and Hound Dog.”
“Got it. Support team out.”
“Pass the word,” said Reaper to the team members lying on her left and right. “Fifty percent security with your battle buddy. Everyone gets at least four hours of sleep before 0300.” Then she went back to studying the compound.
It’s a good thing we’re all Edens, she thought. No way we’re going in there without taking some casualties. Hitting them early in the morning will grant us the element of surprise, but it’s still going to be dicey.
She really didn’t want to go in through the main entrance…but she also didn’t want to rely on Shortfuse either.
Damned if I do…and speak of the devil. Here’s the nutcase now.
“Why don’t you get a little rest, boss?” said Shortfuse as he crawled up close to her. “I’ll keep watch.”
“Thanks, but no thanks,” said Reaper. “I never sleep before a mission. Go ahead if you want.”
“I can’t sleep before a mission either. Too keyed up.” He studied the walls and the gate. “That’s going to be a tough nut to crack.”
Reaper turned and looked at him. “I appreciate you making an effort, I really do, but we’re not going to be friends. You’re only here because Spooky thinks you might be useful. That may be true, but I don’t like people on my team that make me want to watch my own back. You aren’t reliable.”
“We didn’t get off to a good start, but that doesn’t mean I’m not reliable.”
“What about blowing Sparky’s fingers off?” Reaper asked. “He was a damn fine commo guy and we needed him, but after that, he decided not to come back. Can’t say I blame him.”
The man sighed and looked away. “I didn’t actually do it on purpose.”
“What?” asked Reaper. “You laughed and made a big deal out of how much you enjoyed it.”
“That was all show. Better for everyone to think the demo guy is crazy, not incompetent.”
“Are you incompetent?”
“Hell no,” he said fiercely. “I’m the best you’ll find anywhere.”
“So what happened? If you didn’t do it on purpose and you’re not incompetent, how did he lose his fingers on a charge you prepared?”
“I don’t know,” said Shortfuse.
“What do you mean, you don’t know?” Reaper asked. “Didn’t you prepare the charges?”
“I don’t remember, okay?” the man answered.
“You’re going to have to explain that one.”
He rubbed his hand through his hair. “I get blackouts every now and then. Ever since my last tour in Afghanistan. Doc said it was normal. Part of my mind dealing with cumulative stress.”
“Does Spooky know?”
Shortfuse shook his head.
“How did you get through the screening?”
“You know how it is,” he said. “All the questions rely upon the person being honest regarding the questions. I’ve been through enough PTSD briefings to know which bubbles to darken in and which ones to steer clear of.”
“This info just makes it worse,” said Reaper. “I can’t use you, can I? Look, nothing personal, but you could black out at any time.”
“It’s getting better. That was the first one I’ve had in a long time. I think the virus is fixing things.”
“Why would I take the risk?”
“Because you need me and...I need this,” Shortfuse answered. “Ever since my family left me there’s been nothing else. Do you have any idea what it’s like to lose everything at once?”
“Actually, I do,” said Reaper, turning away.
“I know you don’t trust me over what happened, but the truth is, I’m a good soldier and a better demo man. If you let me stay on the team you won’t have any trouble out of me and I promise you won’t have to watch your back. I’ll do that for you.”
Reaper mulled things over. “Okay. For now. But here’s what’s going to happen. After this job, you’re going to train me on everything you know about demolitions and explosives. I want to know what you know.”
“I can’t teach you everything,” he said. “We’re talking decades of experience. I may not look that old, but they forced me to retire after thirty years of service.”
“Well, then show me what you can. Teach me what’s important. I want to double check everything you do to make sure no one else loses body parts.”
Shortfuse’s jaw got tight and his eyes narrowed.
“I’m not going to endanger the team to soothe your pride,” Reaper said. “I’ll make a show of being an asshole about it in front of the others if you want, but that’s the deal and it’s the best one you’re going to get from me right now. Take it or leave it.”
“Okay. I guess I’ll take it. Not like I have a lot of other options.”
“No, you don’t.”
The man nodded and gently took the binoculars out of her hands. He looked down at the compound.
“What do you think?” Reaper asked. “Think you could blow a hole through that wall?”
Shortfuse lowered the binos and smiled at her. “Most definitely.”
***
They crept through the jungle wearing night vision goggles. Reaper led the assault team forward slowly and carefully. She saw the edge of the compound wall up ahead through the goggles’ green glow.
“Hawkeye, this is Reaper,” Reaper whispered. “Commo check.”
“Read you Lima Charlie,” Hawkeye responded.
“Same here. We’re nearly in position. Everything still quiet?”
“Roger that. Had a car come in around midnight, but nothing since then. There’s a light in the guard house and one in the north shed, but otherwise looks like everyone’s asleep.”
“Good. I’m putting the assault team in position and we’re moving up to place the charges. I’m pretty sure they don’t have motion sensors around the walls, but just in case, let me know if you notice any activity.”
“Wilco.”
Reaper lined up her ten men in a pair of files, ready to charge through the breach. Then she and Shortfuse crept forward slowly; he carried a bag of demo in his arms. They rested at the base of the wall and Shortfuse pulled out a small shovel and began digging.
“What are you doing?” Reaper hissed.
“I have to tamp down the charge, otherwise it’ll dissipate in the air. The farther down I can get it the better.” Shortfuse scooped dirt away from the wall until there was a hole about two feet deep. He pulled a bundle of plastic explosive and wires from the small bag. Placing the package in the hole, he pulled up a wire and laid it aside on the ground. He then covered up the hole with dirt and patted it firmly in place.
Picking up the wire he’d left above ground, he plugged the end into a small radio received, which he stuck into the top of the packed dirt. “That’s it.”
The two crept back to the line of team members waiting in the blackness.
“Listen up,” Shortfuse said. “Hug the dirt, cover your ears and turn off your radios. After it blows, turn them back on and be prepared to climb through rubble.”
Once she was certain everyone understood, Reaper transmitted, “Hawkeye, this is Reaper. We’re ready to blow the charge; stand by.”
“Standing by.”
Reaper nodded at Shortfuse.
He pulled a small radio transmitter from his bag and got down behind a big tree. “Fire in the hole,” he said as he pressed the button.
The wall erupted into a blast of noise and light. The force of the shockwave washed over them. Chunks of concrete and rubble rained down through the branches of the trees above.
“Go!” barked Reaper, rushing forward. She climbed carefully over the pile of smoking rubble at the breach. Sniper and machine gun fire from Hawkeye’s three-man team peppered the compound, covering their entry.
“The house first,” she said, rushing forward, followed by her assault team.
Lights popped on all over the compound. Racing up the front steps of the mansion, she crouched down beside the door. “Stack up!” she yelled to the first four as they moved into position. “Go!” She pushed the door open.
The four rushed into the room along the right wall in a textbook deployment, weapons covering their sectors, but there was nothing to shoot. Reaper turned to the next two. “Cover the front of the house,” she ordered. “That’s our way out of here, so keep it clear.”
Reaper led the rest of the team inside toward their target’s bedroom, on the second floor off the main staircase. That was where she hoped expected to find their objective. “We’re in,” she radioed. “Snatch team proceeding to second floor.”
“That will only work so far,” Skull said putting a hand on his shoulder. “Believe me. They’ll make you talk and then you’ll tell them everything you know. I can’t let you stay.”
The man shook his head and pulled back. “I’ve done my part. More than was asked of me, and now I’m done. I’ll go home to my wife and children and that will be the end of it.”
“We can send for them later.”
Alcroft shook his head sadly. “My mother-in-law lives down the street. My wife would never agree to leave her. I’ll never talk. I won’t break. Trust me.”
Skull paused for a moment. “Okay, I guess.” He stuck out his hand. “Thanks for everything.”
Alcroft shook hands with him and smiled. “Glad to help. Now you’d better get out of here.”
“You too,” said Skull turning and walking through the door. He waited several seconds and then reversed course.
Alcroft was walking away.
Skull put one round into the back of his head. “Everyone breaks,” he whispered.
-32-
Skull made his way up to the surface and emerged into the night. The exit wasn’t far from where he had stashed his gear, so he raced to it, throwing his ruck on his back and then sprinting to the northeast toward the coast.
With good visibility from a full moon, he didn’t have to use his flashlight. He stopped to rest once, looking back at the billowing fire that marked the facility. The thermite grenades burned hot enough to ignite aluminum, and had likely started other chemicals blazing, producing a complete conflagration, especially with the fire suppression system deactivated.
Tied to a pier extending out from the beach, the moonlight revealed the shape of a Brazilian-built twin-turboprop seaplane large enough to hold a dozen men. He raced toward it, seeing the faint glow of the cockpit instruments as he approached without stealth.
A man stood outside the plane with a submachine gun.
Markis.
“Howdy, Skull. Long time no see,” said the voice.
Not Daniel; his father David. A veteran combat pilot, which made more sense. With the Eden Plague’s rejuvenating effects they could be mistaken for brothers, especially in the dark.
“Thanks for the pickup.”
“Any time,” David said, shaking Skull’s hand with a smile that seemed genuine and looking off to the southwest toward the flickering glow. “Looks like you made a mess over there. We’d best be on our way.”
“Aren’t we waiting for the team?”
“What team?” David Markis seemed genuinely puzzled.
“Spooky told me he would be hitting the lab in about…” he checked his Patek. “Ninety-five minutes?”
“Don’t know nothin’ about that. Alls he told me was, you’d trash the lab and I’d fly you away.”
Skull chuckled ruefully. “Bastard.”
“Now, now. Plenty of time for name-callin’ later.”
“Let’s go, then,” said Skull, following the senior Markis into the plane and pulling the door shut.
“Grab the copilot’s seat and strap in,” David told him, climbing into the pilot's chair. The rest of the space was taken up by cardboard boxes secured to the floor and wall by cargo netting. “I’m going to push us out of here as fast and low as I can.”
The plane moved forward into the sea and began accelerating at full throttle. The twin engines reached a high whine as the plane lifted off the water and made a sharp turn to the right before it started gaining altitude.
The compass showed them heading south, and the lights of the coast off to Skull’s right fell farther behind as the minutes passed.
“You look beat, son,” David said. “Put your head back. Nothin’ gonna happen for a couple of hours.”
Skull did as Markis instructed, resolving to just take a cat nap. He was surprised when he woke up at least three hours later. The plane flew level and easy over open water, and the sun had risen above the wide Atlantic to the east, with hardly a cloud in the sky.
“Morning,” said David. “Sleep good?”
“Fair. Did we make a clean getaway?”
“Clean as they get,” David answered. “If we hadn’t, the first we’d hear about it was an F-35 up our ass. This baby’s fast, but not that fast.” He patted the cockpit dash.
Skull nodded. “So what’s the plan?”
“We fly to a particular set of coordinates south of Puerto Rico. We set down on what I hope is a nice flat stretch of water and we meet Spooky. He’ll be in a speedboat and have a tanker with him to refuel the plane. You go with Spooky in the speedboat to Colombia and the boys and I go take these supplies to our people in Antigua.”
“Antigua?”
“Don’t ask. I already said too much. Need to know.”
“Okay,” said Skull. “You happen to have a map of the area with you?”
Markis pointed at a folded, laminated chart in a holder next to Skull.
Looking over the chart for several minutes, Skull eventually put a finger on a small airstrip on the southeast tip of Cuba. Ever since Fidel’s death, Cuba had slowly begun to become the paradise its natural beauty promised. Skull knew that, and had long planned to visit.
“There,” Skull told the pilot. “Put me down there.”
David turned and looked at him like he was crazy. “Cuba? We got it all lined up for Puerto Rico. Don’t worry, it’s part of Spooky’s plan. It’s fine.”
Skull nodded. Without hostility at David’s words he unbuckled, crawling backward out of the seat and into the cargo area. Several minutes later he returned wearing a parachute and carrying his gear, plus an inflatable life raft. He pulled one of his HK pistols and put it against David Markis’ head. “Okay, let’s try this again. You set me down where I want or I shoot you and bail out of the plane.”
David turned his head toward Skull, ignoring the gun. “You ain’t gonna shoot me, son, and we both know it.”
Skull pressed the muzzle hard into David’s temple.
“On the other hand, I’m as flexible as the next man. Semper Gumby and all that. You ain’t gotta threaten me.” Markis reached for the chart. “What’s the name of the airfield again?”
Several hours later they made an unauthorized landing on the Cuban coast. Two policemen approached the plane once it had finally stopped, with a couple of bemused beachcombers watching. Generous bribes smoothed everything over, and Skull put on his two packs containing his gear and got off the plane. At the bottom, he turned and looked back to see David peering at him. “Tell Daniel we’re even now.”
“I’ll tell him.” David smiled a toothy grin. “But now you owe me, boy.”
“Fuck off, old man,” Skull said with an answering grin and turned south.
According to the map, a little beach resort town rested not far from there. A place where the locals were polite and discreet, Skull wagered. A place where they respected a man’s privacy and where he could disappear and relax for a while.
Skull had always wanted to become truly fluent in Spanish, and he realized he could use a little time off near the ocean relaxing in the sun and breeze.
But only for a time.
Then, he’d get back to work.
His kind of work.
End of Skull’s Shadows.
Want to read the next book?
Purchase Eden’s Exodus now at Smashwords
OR
Read an excerpt first…
EDEN’S EXODUS Excerpt
Reaper looked down at the Mendoles compound from the jungle-covered hillside five hundred yards away. An enormous French style chateau surrounded by gardens and walking paths, it included a number of outbuildings to serve as garages, sheds, or additional housing. The entire complex was enclosed by a tall stone wall with concertina wire atop it. Two armed guards watched the front gate and a dozen more roamed the main house and the grounds.
Clearly, the cartel didn’t really anticipate imminent direct action; the guards were there to deter their competition and make the occupants feel safe. Undoubtedly they relied on their deep penetration of the Colombian government to give them warning against a law enforcement raid, and they would have spies and informants everywhere.
Rule of thumb calculations told her that about twice as many men loitered off shift as were visible, about half of whom would probably be elsewhere – in town or at separate homes.
Reaper tried not to squirm in the humid heat. Acclimatization to Colombia for nearly half a year had accustomed her to the worst of the humidity, but being under the jungle canopy seemed to only make matters worse. Keeping the bugs away always turned into a losing battle even with industrial strength insect repellant. She wondered idly if the mosquitoes that sucked her blood could become carriers for the Eden virus the way they had for malaria and yellow fever. If so, more power to them.
“Reaper, this is Hawkeye,” said a voice from her miniature earpiece. “Support team in position. All lines of sight clear.”
Reaper looked far to her right and thought she might be able to make out one of the men, but couldn’t be sure. They were well camouflaged and Hawkeye knew his. The man had quickly moved into the position as the team’s de facto second-in-command.
“Roger, Hawkeye,” said Reaper. “No unusual activity detected. Go to fifty percent security. Eat and get some sleep. Make sure everyone is ready for kickoff at 0300 hours.”
“Wilco,” said Hawkeye.
“And Hawkeye… keep a close eye on Blade and Hound Dog.”
“Got it. Support team out.”
“Pass the word,” said Reaper to the team members lying on her left and right. “Fifty percent security with your battle buddy. Everyone gets at least four hours of sleep before 0300.” Then she went back to studying the compound.
It’s a good thing we’re all Edens, she thought. No way we’re going in there without taking some casualties. Hitting them early in the morning will grant us the element of surprise, but it’s still going to be dicey.
She really didn’t want to go in through the main entrance…but she also didn’t want to rely on Shortfuse either.
Damned if I do…and speak of the devil. Here’s the nutcase now.
“Why don’t you get a little rest, boss?” said Shortfuse as he crawled up close to her. “I’ll keep watch.”
“Thanks, but no thanks,” said Reaper. “I never sleep before a mission. Go ahead if you want.”
“I can’t sleep before a mission either. Too keyed up.” He studied the walls and the gate. “That’s going to be a tough nut to crack.”
Reaper turned and looked at him. “I appreciate you making an effort, I really do, but we’re not going to be friends. You’re only here because Spooky thinks you might be useful. That may be true, but I don’t like people on my team that make me want to watch my own back. You aren’t reliable.”
“We didn’t get off to a good start, but that doesn’t mean I’m not reliable.”
“What about blowing Sparky’s fingers off?” Reaper asked. “He was a damn fine commo guy and we needed him, but after that, he decided not to come back. Can’t say I blame him.”
The man sighed and looked away. “I didn’t actually do it on purpose.”
“What?” asked Reaper. “You laughed and made a big deal out of how much you enjoyed it.”
“That was all show. Better for everyone to think the demo guy is crazy, not incompetent.”
“Are you incompetent?”
“Hell no,” he said fiercely. “I’m the best you’ll find anywhere.”
“So what happened? If you didn’t do it on purpose and you’re not incompetent, how did he lose his fingers on a charge you prepared?”
“I don’t know,” said Shortfuse.
“What do you mean, you don’t know?” Reaper asked. “Didn’t you prepare the charges?”
“I don’t remember, okay?” the man answered.
“You’re going to have to explain that one.”
He rubbed his hand through his hair. “I get blackouts every now and then. Ever since my last tour in Afghanistan. Doc said it was normal. Part of my mind dealing with cumulative stress.”
“Does Spooky know?”
Shortfuse shook his head.
“How did you get through the screening?”
“You know how it is,” he said. “All the questions rely upon the person being honest regarding the questions. I’ve been through enough PTSD briefings to know which bubbles to darken in and which ones to steer clear of.”
“This info just makes it worse,” said Reaper. “I can’t use you, can I? Look, nothing personal, but you could black out at any time.”
“It’s getting better. That was the first one I’ve had in a long time. I think the virus is fixing things.”
“Why would I take the risk?”
“Because you need me and...I need this,” Shortfuse answered. “Ever since my family left me there’s been nothing else. Do you have any idea what it’s like to lose everything at once?”
“Actually, I do,” said Reaper, turning away.
“I know you don’t trust me over what happened, but the truth is, I’m a good soldier and a better demo man. If you let me stay on the team you won’t have any trouble out of me and I promise you won’t have to watch your back. I’ll do that for you.”
Reaper mulled things over. “Okay. For now. But here’s what’s going to happen. After this job, you’re going to train me on everything you know about demolitions and explosives. I want to know what you know.”
“I can’t teach you everything,” he said. “We’re talking decades of experience. I may not look that old, but they forced me to retire after thirty years of service.”
“Well, then show me what you can. Teach me what’s important. I want to double check everything you do to make sure no one else loses body parts.”
Shortfuse’s jaw got tight and his eyes narrowed.
“I’m not going to endanger the team to soothe your pride,” Reaper said. “I’ll make a show of being an asshole about it in front of the others if you want, but that’s the deal and it’s the best one you’re going to get from me right now. Take it or leave it.”
“Okay. I guess I’ll take it. Not like I have a lot of other options.”
“No, you don’t.”
The man nodded and gently took the binoculars out of her hands. He looked down at the compound.
“What do you think?” Reaper asked. “Think you could blow a hole through that wall?”
Shortfuse lowered the binos and smiled at her. “Most definitely.”
***
They crept through the jungle wearing night vision goggles. Reaper led the assault team forward slowly and carefully. She saw the edge of the compound wall up ahead through the goggles’ green glow.
“Hawkeye, this is Reaper,” Reaper whispered. “Commo check.”
“Read you Lima Charlie,” Hawkeye responded.
“Same here. We’re nearly in position. Everything still quiet?”
“Roger that. Had a car come in around midnight, but nothing since then. There’s a light in the guard house and one in the north shed, but otherwise looks like everyone’s asleep.”
“Good. I’m putting the assault team in position and we’re moving up to place the charges. I’m pretty sure they don’t have motion sensors around the walls, but just in case, let me know if you notice any activity.”
“Wilco.”
Reaper lined up her ten men in a pair of files, ready to charge through the breach. Then she and Shortfuse crept forward slowly; he carried a bag of demo in his arms. They rested at the base of the wall and Shortfuse pulled out a small shovel and began digging.
“What are you doing?” Reaper hissed.
“I have to tamp down the charge, otherwise it’ll dissipate in the air. The farther down I can get it the better.” Shortfuse scooped dirt away from the wall until there was a hole about two feet deep. He pulled a bundle of plastic explosive and wires from the small bag. Placing the package in the hole, he pulled up a wire and laid it aside on the ground. He then covered up the hole with dirt and patted it firmly in place.
Picking up the wire he’d left above ground, he plugged the end into a small radio received, which he stuck into the top of the packed dirt. “That’s it.”
The two crept back to the line of team members waiting in the blackness.
“Listen up,” Shortfuse said. “Hug the dirt, cover your ears and turn off your radios. After it blows, turn them back on and be prepared to climb through rubble.”
Once she was certain everyone understood, Reaper transmitted, “Hawkeye, this is Reaper. We’re ready to blow the charge; stand by.”
“Standing by.”
Reaper nodded at Shortfuse.
He pulled a small radio transmitter from his bag and got down behind a big tree. “Fire in the hole,” he said as he pressed the button.
The wall erupted into a blast of noise and light. The force of the shockwave washed over them. Chunks of concrete and rubble rained down through the branches of the trees above.
“Go!” barked Reaper, rushing forward. She climbed carefully over the pile of smoking rubble at the breach. Sniper and machine gun fire from Hawkeye’s three-man team peppered the compound, covering their entry.
“The house first,” she said, rushing forward, followed by her assault team.
Lights popped on all over the compound. Racing up the front steps of the mansion, she crouched down beside the door. “Stack up!” she yelled to the first four as they moved into position. “Go!” She pushed the door open.
The four rushed into the room along the right wall in a textbook deployment, weapons covering their sectors, but there was nothing to shoot. Reaper turned to the next two. “Cover the front of the house,” she ordered. “That’s our way out of here, so keep it clear.”
Reaper led the rest of the team inside toward their target’s bedroom, on the second floor off the main staircase. That was where she hoped expected to find their objective. “We’re in,” she radioed. “Snatch team proceeding to second floor.”
