by Brent Towns
Once she had rid herself of the WDI and collected the bounty on The Ghost, she would slip back into the shadows and return the Cabal to life.
Samokov, Macedonia
The night was their friend and the phosphorescence of their NVGs, their lover. Team Reaper made their way down the steep slope of the mountain through the trees with slow precision. They’d been dropped on the opposite side of the high ridge by a Black Hawk helicopter, the landform acting as a buffer for the aircraft’s noise. They’d trekked over the top, and their current course would bring them directly down on the compound where Marek was living.
Kane called a halt. “Take five.”
They settled down among the tall pines. Kane said into his comms. “Zero Two, copy?”
“Copy, Reaper One,” Arenas came back.
“We’re at Location Golf. Taking five, over.”
“Roger that.”
Kane checked the time; it was 01:30. Another two hours, and they would be on target. The team had worked out and agreed on a plan before insertion. After going over satellite photos, they had figured out an optimal position for Cara to set up and provide overwatch with her suppressed.375 caliber CheyTac Intervention sniper rifle, which had a range of two thousand-plus meters.
The others would infiltrate and either take Marek alive or, if he chose to go down the other path, kill him.
Kane’s thoughts drifted to the changes that were coming. With Hank Jones being forced out and Thurston under the gun, he wondered what the future might hold for him and his team. Maybe the CIA would take them into the fold, or… Who knew?”
The wind picked up in the trees, and an icy chill touched Kane’s exposed skin. An involuntary shiver ran down his spine.
“You alright, Reaper?” Cara asked.
He looked up and saw her standing there, the CheyTac on its sling over her shoulder. “Yeah, I’m alright. Just thinking is all.” He didn’t mention that he felt like someone had just walked over his grave.
“Get your head back in the game,” she said softly. “We can worry about the other later.”
He sighed. “You’re right. Get them up. We’re moving out.”
Washington, DC, Minus Five Hours.
Hank Jones walked into Brett Edison’s office at 20:30 hours with dread running through his mind. As soon as he saw the smug expression on the man’s face, he knew this would be bad. “I’m glad you could come on such short notice, Hank,” he said. “I wanted you to be the first to know.”
“Know what?”
“Know that once your people return from their current mission, the office of the Worldwide Drug Initiative will be disbanded, and a new office will be formed within the NSA, where a tighter rein can be kept on them.”
Jones swallowed the anger he felt rising in his throat. “Really?”
“Yes. I had a discussion with the President, and we both thought it would be the best place for them. Especially with the new intake.”
“What new intake?”
“All of the current personnel will be let go and new ones brought in. We can’t have them bringing bad habits into the new team.”
“Just like that?” Jones asked.
“I’m afraid so. They’ll finish their current mission, however. Nothing happens before then.”
“You finally got your way, then.”
“What?”
“Come on, Brett. Everyone knows you never liked the team. Now that you’ve got someone in office who will listen to you, you’ve gotten what you always wanted. Team Reaper gone.”
“It was nothing personal, Hank.”
“Bullshit.”
“If you say so.”
“I do say so. But rest assured, you haven’t heard the last of them. I shit you not.”
Edison’s expression changed and his voice grew bitter. “Just face it, Hank. They’re done. Just like you.”
“Fuck you, Brett,” Jones growled. “You and what you stand for.”
Skopje, North Macedonia
“I’m sorry if I woke you, Mary, but I have news.”
“I wasn’t asleep, sir. We’ve got people downrange. I won’t sleep until the mission is done.”
“Then I won’t keep you long.” He went on to fill her in on the details of his meeting with Edison.
“I see.”
“I’m sorry, Mary. I know you put a lot into what you’ve got. I’ll try to fix things, but I can’t promise anything.”
“I know you’ll do your best, Hank.”
“Talk soon, Mary.”
“Yes, sir.”
The call disconnected, and Thurston took off her headset and flung it at the wall in a fit of rage. “Fuck!”
Samokov, Macedonia
“Reaper Two in position.” Cara’s voice was quiet over the comms.
“Roger that,” Kane replied. “Both teams move in.”
Kane and Troy broke cover from the trees and reached the low stucco wall that surrounded the compound. They paused for a moment, then Cara said, “Tango down.”
They vaulted the wall and kept moving toward the pool house. Kane glanced left and saw Axe and Brick moving toward the tennis court. From there, they would move on the sentry at the gazebo.
“Hold! Hold! Hold!” Cara’s voice was urgent. All four men dropped to the ground and held their breath. “Brick, you’ve got two tangos coming at you from behind the tennis court.”
“I’ve got them.”
“You take the one on the left, and I’ll hit the right.”
“Just say the word.”
“Three, two, one, execute.”
There had been a slight pause in Cara’s voice as she fired on two, realizing that if she had fired on her command, her target would have moved reflexively after Brick’s bullet had impacted his target. This way, both shots arrived at the same time, and the targets were put down without any hiccups.
“Threat neutralized.”
Kane and Troy got to their feet. They moved swiftly and silently to the corner of the pool house. Kane edged around it and saw another sentry standing near the pool. He raised his suppressed 416 and was about to fire when Troy whispered harshly, “Hold.”
Kane lowered the weapon and turned to his friend. “What?”
“I saw movement toward the corner of the main house.”
“Reaper Two,” Kane said. “The corner of the main house. Troy thought he saw something.”
“Wait one.”
Before she could get back to him, the night erupted with gunfire. Muzzle flashes filled the darkness, and Kane and Troy flung themselves to the ground. Bullets hammered into the side of the pool house above them.
Kane cursed and said, “Cara, put that bastard down.”
“Reaper, I can see three shooters and more moving that are trying to flank you.”
“Bravo One, give me a sitrep, over.”
“We’re trying to work it out, Reaper. We’re registering heat signatures everywhere.”
“Is it a trap?”
“It can’t be, but it’s sure something.”
Kane and Troy returned fire. Meanwhile, Brick and Axe were trying to flank the immediate threat. “Keep them pinned, Reaper, while Brick and I flank them.”
“Yeah, real good, Axe,” Kane growled as he fired a burst at a muzzle flash. “I’ll do what I can.”
The firing grew more intense, then the call came over the radio, “Taking fire. Troops in contact.”
It was Axe. Things were going south rapidly, and if they weren’t careful, they would take casualties, and that would be it.
The CheyTac slammed into Cara’s shoulder, and through the night scope, she saw another target go down. Things were fast getting out of hand, and she knew the others were relying on her to get the job done. She worked the bolt and ejected the spent cartridge. The fresh round went home, and she quickly found another target.
Once more, the rifle bucked, and a shooter died. She said, “Reaper Four, passage is cleared. Proceed.”
“Copy.”
Cara shifted her aim back to the house, where Kane and Troy were still taking incoming fire. She saw that one of the shooters was on the ground, but two more were firing at a steady rate.
She worked the bolt again and squeezed the trigger—another one down. “Hang on, Reaper, one more to go.”
“Reaper Two, we’re picking up heat signatures moving in from the east. Confirm.”
The call had come from Teller, Reynolds’ second seat. Cara panned right with the rifle and picked up the movement. She stopped and waited for the pattern to become clearer. When it did, she muttered a curse. “Reaper Two to all call signs. We’ve got visitors coming in from the east. From what I can see, they’re pros.”
Cara fired. One of the shooters fell, and the rest scrambled for cover.
“Reaper Two, numbers, over,” came the call from Kane.
“One less than before. Estimate ten to twelve.”
“Copy.”
Another shot, another kill.
Cara cursed again. “Zero, requesting air support. We need to drop something on these pricks before they can reorganize and cause all kinds of issues.”
“Roger, Reaper Two. We’re on it.”
Cara then reached out to Kane. “Reaper, I’ve just called for air support. Dig in and hang on.”
“Copy, Reaper Two. Digging in.”
Skopje, North Macedonia
Ferrero looked at Reynolds. “You’re cleared hot, Brooke. Give our people some cover.”
“Roger that.” She worked the joystick and brought the Gray Eagle around for a safer run. Out of the corner of her mouth, she said to Teller, “Talk to me.”
“I’ve got targets in three different positions, the largest group being to the east.”
“Let’s light them up.”
“Ready when you are, Mama.”
“Don’t turn me on that way, Daddy.”
Teller chuckled. “Just fire the damn missile.”
“Missile gone.”
Ferrero watched the screen until the missile impacted the target. Then he heard Teller say, “We have target impact.”
Samokov, Macedonia
Cara’s night sight flared at the impact of the missile, and the valley was rocked by the explosion. She closed her eyes until the flare died, then went back to work. “Reaper, you’re clear.”
“Copy, Reaper Two. Moving.”
Kane fired twice and dropped another shooter as he hurried past the pool. The missile strike had stopped the concentrated fire from the east, which made their passage easier. He reached the corner of the house and followed the garden along the side until he got to the next corner. There he waited for Troy, then moved toward the main entrance.
On the gravel turn-around were three dark SUVs, and he suddenly realized who the extra shooters were; they were from Grayson. She knew they’d come after Marek, and she’d placed men there to be ready—except they’d had an up-close and personal encounter with a Hellfire. But it didn’t mean—
The door of the main entrance opened, and something flew toward them. “Shit, get down.”
The grenade exploded in a bright flash, and Kane felt the heat of it wash over him. Gravel rained down on the two team operators like hailstones. “You all right, Troy?”
“Still in the fight. Reaper.”
Kane came to his knees as a handful of shooters spilled out of the open doorway. With a flick of his finger, he switched the rate of fire on his 416 to auto and lit them up. Behind him, Troy did the same, and the shooters performed the macabre dance of the dying under the assault of the incoming rounds.
The two Team Reaper operators pressed forward, stepping over the bodies in the doorway. They raised their NVGs as they entered the brightly lit foyer. Troy was first in, and he swept it from left to right.
Kane followed him in and moved right toward a closed door. Troy walked backward toward him, watching their rear and the door on the left. He put his back against the wall near the doorframe and looked at Kane. He gave a nod, and Kane let his carbine hang by its strap and drew his M17. He opened the door and walked through.
Axe and Brick entered through the rear. After dealing with the two shooters outside on the paved dining area, they gained access and cleared the kitchen. It was empty, so Brick led the way into a large dining hall. The table was long and ran almost the full length of the room. As Axe went down one side, Brick traversed the other. They met at the opposite end and moved into a hallway. They reached the foyer just as Kane and Troy breached the room on the left.
Gunfire erupted from within the room. Axe took a couple of steps toward the door, but the door on the right opened and an armed man appeared, wielding an automatic weapon.
The 416 in Axe’s hands spat fire and the man was thrown back against the doorframe before sliding down it slowly, the weapon spilling to the floor. Without interrupting his pace, Axe changed direction and entered a spacious room.
The man on the other side of the doorway held a handgun at shoulder height, ready to shoot, and as soon as Axe appeared, he squeezed the trigger. The big man grunted from the bullet strike, and he staggered for a moment before falling to his knees. Behind him, Brick’s suppressed 416 rattled off three shots, the casings clinking and skittering across the tiled floor.
The shooter fell and rolled onto his back. Brick hurried forward to check the threat and found it had been neutralized. He checked the face of the man against a picture he had taped to his forearm and saw that it was Marek himself. He pressed his transmit button on his comms and said, “Reaper Five to all call signs. Jackpot. I say again, Jackpot.”
He turned away from the dead Marek and hurried to check on Axe, who was still on his knees. “How you doing, old man?”
“It fucking hurts,” he groaned.
“Where’d he get you?”
“Body armor. Think he broke a fucking rib.”
Brick slapped him on the back. “You’ll be all right.”
“Thanks. Great of you to check, old cock.”
The former SEAL grinned at his use of one of Knocker’s favorite sayings. “Can you get up?”
“Yeah, just give me a minute to catch my breath.”
Kane and Troy appeared in the doorway. Kane looked at his friend. “What’s wrong?”
“Took a round to his chest plate. He’ll live.”
“Good, then get him up. We’re out of here. Cara, how are we looking outside?”
“All clear so far.”
“Right, we’re coming out. Mission accomplished.”
The CheyTac slammed into Cara’s shoulder, and through the night scope, she saw another target go down. Things were fast getting out of hand, and she knew the others were relying on her to get the job done. She worked the bolt and ejected the spent cartridge. The fresh round went home, and she quickly found another target.
Once more, the rifle bucked, and a shooter died. She said, “Reaper Four, passage is cleared. Proceed.”
“Copy.”
Cara shifted her aim back to the house, where Kane and Troy were still taking incoming fire. She saw that one of the shooters was on the ground, but two more were firing at a steady rate.
She worked the bolt again and squeezed the trigger—another one down. “Hang on, Reaper, one more to go.”
“Reaper Two, we’re picking up heat signatures moving in from the east. Confirm.”
The call had come from Teller, Reynolds’ second seat. Cara panned right with the rifle and picked up the movement. She stopped and waited for the pattern to become clearer. When it did, she muttered a curse. “Reaper Two to all call signs. We’ve got visitors coming in from the east. From what I can see, they’re pros.”
Cara fired. One of the shooters fell, and the rest scrambled for cover.
“Reaper Two, numbers, over,” came the call from Kane.
“One less than before. Estimate ten to twelve.”
“Copy.”
Another shot, another kill.
Cara cursed again. “Zero, req
uesting air support. We need to drop something on these pricks before they can reorganize and cause all kinds of issues.”
“Roger, Reaper Two. We’re on it.”
Cara then reached out to Kane. “Reaper, I’ve just called for air support. Dig in and hang on.”
“Copy, Reaper Two. Digging in.”
Skopje, North Macedonia
Ferrero looked at Reynolds. “You’re cleared hot, Brooke. Give our people some cover.”
“Roger that.” She worked the joystick and brought the Gray Eagle around for a safer run. Out of the corner of her mouth, she said to Teller, “Talk to me.”
“I’ve got targets in three different positions, the largest group being to the east.”
“Let’s light them up.”
“Ready when you are, Mama.”
“Don’t turn me on that way, Daddy.”
Teller chuckled. “Just fire the damn missile.”
“Missile gone.”
Ferrero watched the screen until the missile impacted the target. Then he heard Teller say, “We have target impact.”
Samokov, Macedonia
Cara’s night sight flared at the impact of the missile, and the valley was rocked by the explosion. She closed her eyes until the flare died, then went back to work. “Reaper, you’re clear.”
“Copy, Reaper Two. Moving.”
Kane fired twice and dropped another shooter as he hurried past the pool. The missile strike had stopped the concentrated fire from the east, which made their passage easier. He reached the corner of the house and followed the garden along the side until he got to the next corner. There he waited for Troy, then moved toward the main entrance.