Running footsteps splashed across the muddy ground.
Goose heaved himself from the dead man toward the M-4A1. His hands found the grips even in the mud and the rain, with pain filling his head. For seventeen years, he’d carried a weapon like this rifle. It had been his constant companion. He was more familiar with it than anything else in his life.
The last of the mercenaries ran at him and opened fire. Unable to get to his feet because his knee wouldn’t hold him, Goose rolled onto his stomach with the rifle propped on his elbows before him. It was the basic position the army had taught him in boot, and it was the first position his daddy had taught him when he’d taken him deer hunting.
The man’s bullets dug holes in the mud beside Goose’s face. One clipped his helmet, and two others ricocheted from the body armor covering his back.
Goose sighted on the man’s face and pulled the trigger. The man stopped running and stood there swaying. A look of disbelief was frozen on his face. Goose fired again and the man’s head jerked back. Then he slumped forward on his knees and went face-first into the mud.
Not believing what had happened himself, Goose lay there and stared at the dead men around him. The rain came down harder, covering him in a gentle wash that cleaned him of the mud and the blood.
After he got his breath, he stood and walked, limping on his bad knee and trying to ignore the pain.
Downtown Sanliurfa
Sanliurfa Province, Turkey
Local Time 1039 Hours
Danielle covered her face with her hands and shoved her head down between her knees as glass from the fallen ceiling fan sprayed around her. Fragments pelted her, and she felt a few sharp stings on her forearms and the back of her neck. When the worst of it seemed over, she cautiously looked up again.
Pete had roped his arms protectively around the notebook computer on the table. He held his position for a few moments, then leaned back and studied the ceiling with some trepidation.
“You know,” he said, “I’m beginning to wonder if we should take this meeting down into the wine cellar.”
Shaking, Danielle studied the cuts on her bare arms. Glass fragments glittered on her clothing. She started to brush at it, then realized that she’d only cut up her hands. She took a napkin off the table and knocked the glass from her lap.
“If we go down there,” she said, “we’ll lose the Internet connection. We’re lucky we have it now.”
“Yeah, but part of me keeps wondering if the Syrians are using Internet hot spots as targets.”
The thought chilled Danielle. She swept her gaze over the people around them. She didn’t like thinking she was responsible for bringing death closer to them.
“That’s not what’s happening,” Pete said. “I didn’t mean to drop that on you. That wasn’t fair.”
Danielle nodded.
The screen pixilated again. This time the image reformed even sharper than before. She stared hard at the faces of the two men revealed in the video footage. The driver remained mostly hidden behind the glare reflecting off the windshield. The man on the passenger side of the vehicle held a rocket launcher over his shoulder.
Three-quarters of his face showed.
“That rocket launcher blocks a lot of his face,” Danielle said.
“We knew that when we started this. So did your friend. We all agreed that this was the best image we had.”
“I know.”
“If we don’t get anything from this photo, it’s not going to happen. And we’re lucky to get this much.”
Danielle glared at the image and willed it to give up its secrets. “Do those men look Syrian to you?”
Pete shook his head. “No. But that doesn’t mean they weren’t hired by the Syrians.”
“Whoever those men were, they singled us out. They knew which helicopter Icarus evaced on.”
“You’re assuming that.”
“It’s a safe assumption. No one else on any of those helicopters would have been a target.”
“What about you?”
“Me?” That thought hadn’t occurred to Danielle.
“Sure. You’re a reporter. OneWorld NewsNet. You’ve been hotdogging screen time out here, becoming the voice of the people of the free world. At least for American television.” Pete grinned sheepishly. “The Syrians might like the idea of taking out a significant member of the American press.”
Danielle hadn’t thought of herself in that way. It was flattering, she supposed. And maybe even a little true.
“You were doing spots from Harran,” Pete pointed out. “They knew you were there.”
“They wouldn’t hire an assassination team to come after me.”
Pete nodded at the image on the computer. “Like you said, those men don’t look like Syrian military. Somebody hired them. That’s why you wanted to take a closer look at them.”
Danielle knew that was true. But she’d also concentrated on the men because it was all she could do. Remington had given orders that the press were to stay out of the street and out of the way of his men. The Rangers had orders to take into custody any press members they found roaming and lock them up for the duration of the attack.
Many of the reporters felt certain that being placed under such “protection” would actually turn out to be a death sentence. All of them had cleared immediately.
Abruptly a line of script ran across the bottom of the computer screen.
Mystic:>TALK TO ME, MUCKRAKER.
Danielle slid forward, placed her hands on the keyboard, and opened up a chat application. She went immediately to a private room she’d arranged with Mystic.
Muckraker:>YOU THERE?
Almost immediately a response appeared on the screen.
Mystic:>YES. GLAD TO KNOW YOU’RE STILL ALL IN ONE PIECE.
Another nearby explosion shook the hotel.
Muckraker:>SO FAR. DOESN’T APPEAR HOPEFUL.
Mystic:>I’M WATCHING THE COVERAGE ON CNN.
Danielle knew that OneWorld NewsNet and others continued carrying the story through a few automated cameras set up throughout the city.
Mystic:>I SAW A MODEL REENACTMENT OF SANTA ANNA’S ARMY TAKING THE ALAMO. LOOKS A LOT LIKE WHAT YOU GUYS ARE GOING THROUGH NOW. VASTLY OUTNUMBERED.
Muckraker:>AREN’T YOU FULL OF GOOD CHEER.
Mystic:>WELL, AT LEAST I COME BEARING GIFTS.
Danielle’s heart leaped.
Muckraker:>YOU IDENTIFIED THE MEN IN THE IMAGE.
Mystic:>ONLY ONE OF THEM. BUT HE’S A BIG PIECE. I’M SENDING YOU A PACKET. LOG IN TO YOUR FTP SITE AND PICK IT UP. I SQUEEZED IT AND DRAINED IT. SHOULD DOWNLOAD FAST FOR YOU.
Danielle opened up another window and accessed the FTP client she had on the computer. Once activated, the program searched for new packages and found one immediately. She started the download.
Muckraker:>GOT IT.
Mystic:>YOU’RE GOING TO LIKE THIS.
Muckraker:>THE SHOOTER TIES BACK TO OUR CIA SECTION CHIEF.
Mystic:>IMPRESSIVE. PSYCHIC MUCH?
Muckraker:>NOT HARD TO FIGURE OUT WHO AROUND HERE WOULD HIRE AN ASSASSINATION TEAM TO TAKE OUT THE MAN ABOARD THAT HELICOPTER.
Mystic:>TRUE. THAT’S HOW I WAS ABLE TO TURN THIS SO QUICKLY. I HAD MY SUSPICIONS TOO.
Muckraker:>WHO IS HE?
Mystic:>GOT THE PACKET?
Danielle watched the last of the transfer take place. She opened it and saw thumbnail images pop up in neat rows. Some of the images were of people. Others showed newspaper stories and official-looking documents.
Muckraker:>LOOKING AT IT NOW. HIS NAME IS MARCUS ALLEN? REAL OR ALIAS?
Mystic:>EVERYTHING I’VE BEEN ABLE TO DIG UP SAYS THAT IT’S HIS TRUE NAME. GUY HAS A HISTORY. CAREER SOLDIER GOT BOOTED FOR PLAYING HARDBALL WITH PRISONERS. HE QUIETLY MUSTERED OUT AS THE HEAT STARTED TURNING UP. THEN HE STARTED HITTING THE MERCENARY SCENE. IT DIDN’T TAKE ME LONG TO FIND OUT HE’S ONE OF THE GUYS YOUR SPY GUY HAS GONE TO IN THE PAST. USUALLY FOR BLACK-BAG AND DIRTY-TRICKS ASSIGNMENTS. AND FOR ASSASSINATIONS.
Beside Danielle, Pete grimaced and cursed. “You know what? I didn’t think, given the fact that we’re getting bombed, that I could feel any worse. But this?” He shook his head. “Thinking these guys are still walking around out there gives me the willies.”
Danielle silently agreed.
Muckraker:>YOU’VE GOT EVIDENCE OF THIS?
She pulled some of the news stories up.
Mystic:>NO. I DON’T HAVE SOLID EVIDENCE. WHAT I HAVE WOULD NEVER MAKE A COURT CASE. BUT I DO HAVE SUBSTANTIVE. CONNECTING THE DOTS IS NO PROBLEM.
Danielle’s mind flew. If Goose was still alive, this man in the image—
Marcus Allen,
she thought, putting a name to the fear she felt—could still be alive also.
Mystic:>YOU NEED TO THINK ABOUT GETTING OUT OF THERE. THIS GUY MIGHT NOT BE THE ONLY ONE YOUR SECTION CHIEF HAS IN MOTION. I TRIPPED A FEW ALARMS GETTING THIS GUY’S INFO.
Muckraker:>NOT LIKE YOU TO BE LESS THAN GRACEFUL.
Mystic:>YOU CAN HAVE STEALTH OR YOU CAN HAVE SPEED WHEN IT COMES TO THESE THINGS. IT’S HARD TO ACHIEVE BOTH. SINCE THERE’S A BIG CHANCE THE SYRIAN ARMY IS GOING TO INVADE THAT CITY AT ANY MOMENT …
Muckraker:>UNDERSTOOD. CAN YOU KEEP WORKING WITH THIS NAME? MAYBE GET ME A LIST AND PIX OF KNOWN ASSOCIATES.
Mystic:>I CAN. I WILL. BUT IF THIS THING STARTS GETTING DICEY AGAIN, I’M ALL ABOUT DISCRETION BEING THE BETTER PART OF VALOR.
Muckraker:>I KNOW.
Someone had already tried to trace Mystic through Internet connections during an earlier investigation.
Muckraker:>TAKE CARE OF YOURSELF.
Mystic:>I ALWAYS DO. WHAT ARE YOU GOING TO DO?
Muckraker:>WHAT I CAN. SEE IF I CAN FIND THE SECTION CHIEF AND STIR UP TROUBLE. IF HE’S STILL IN THE CITY. HE’S GOT A HABIT OF DISAPPEARING WHEN THINGS GET REALLY DANGEROUS.
Mystic:>ACTUALLY I CAN HELP YOU WITH THAT TOO. I’VE BEEN TRACKING SOME INTERNET TRAFFIC COMING OUT OF SANLIURFA THAT’S NOT COMING OUT OF THE ESTABLISHED MIL-NET.
Muckraker:>MIL-NET?
Mystic:>MILITARY NETWORK. I’VE BEEN WATCHING SOME OF THE TRAFFIC GOING INTO AND OUT OF THE AREA THERE. FIGURED IF I COULD GIVE YOU SOME EARLY HEADS-UP WARNING, IT MIGHT HELP.
“Wow,” Pete said. “I’m even more impressed.”
“He’s an impressive guy.”
Muckraker:>THANKS FOR THAT. I’LL BE MONITORING YOU WHEN I CAN.
Mystic:>COOL. I’VE GOT A COUPLE OTHER PEOPLE THAT I’M SHEPHERDING IN THAT PART OF THE WORLD.
Danielle’s curiosity came to the forefront immediately.
Muckraker:>ANYONE I SHOULD KNOW ABOUT?
Mystic:>…
Mystic:>SORRY. I’M TIRED. TYPED THAT BEFORE I THOUGHT. FINGERS WORK FASTER THAN MY BRAIN SOMETIMES. I CAN’T TALK ABOUT THOSE PEOPLE.
Danielle cursed. For years, Mystic had been a ghost. He’d never asked for anything, but he’d aided her from time to time with key pieces of information. She’d have given a lot to find out more about him.
Muckraker:>YOU SAID YOU KNEW WHERE I COULD FIND MY GUY?
Mystic:>YEAH. HE’S HOLED UP AT A HOTEL THERE IN THE CITY. LET ME GIVE YOU THE ADDRESS.
United States 75th Army Rangers Temporary Post
Sanliurfa, Turkey
Local Time 1318 Hours
Hell descended on Sanliurfa. The war, snarling and blistering hot, ravaged the city and sucked the marrow from its broken bones despite the pounding rain. A few of the SCUD missiles the Syrians were firing had gotten past the Patriot defensive systems, and Remington felt the explosions shake the earth and quiver through his boot soles.
He stood at parade rest in front of the ops board and kept the battlefield in view in his mind even when the satellite systems occasionally failed and the screens went dark. Fear came at him harder then. His dependence on technology left him crippled and floundering.
It’s not me,
Remington told himself, struggling for a calm, clear head.
It’s war the way it’s fought now. Battles these days move too fast for an unaided man to keep up with. No one could adequately track developing fronts and unit strength without computers.
Back when war had first been invented, generals had peered over a battlefield from a cliff or a hill, or they had led their troops from the front lines. They’d been able to see everything they needed to.
Remington had studied war, from the Chinese texts to the Romans to MOUT battles staged inside cities. In the beginning, war had started in communities as one faction inside a metropolitan area— no matter how large or how small—had fought to contain or destroy another. Then war had gotten too large and was waged outside the city, partly to make sure there was still something left standing for the victor to claim. From there war had spread to the struggles between the cities, where economies and religions threatened to conquer all.
War was still waged for the same reasons. Spin doctors simply tried to put different faces on it.
The Greek city-states had battled each other. The nations comprising the German confederacy had battled each other. The North had battled the South in the United States. Remington believed it was man’s nature to battle other men.