side were dark and unoccupied. “I want this area contained,” he said. “I don’t want anyone escaping that house.”
He looked at Matt and the crew around him. Everyone seemed prepared to run through a wall for him. It made his heart pump even harder.
• • •
Barzani saw it all. He sat in the back seat of the Jeep Grand Cherokee and watched it on his tablet as Memu kept guard from behind the wheel. They parked in a nearby condominium complex, a place where most of the units were used by renters and a new arrival in the parking lot caused no attention. Besides, none of the authorities were looking for him anyway. They presumed he was inside the safe house.
“Sarock,” Memu said from the front seat, “what exactly are we waiting for?”
Barzani had the perimeter of the complex rigged with tiny digital security cameras so they could spy their surroundings. What his crew didn’t know was that he’d programmed his tablet to accept the signal from a remote location.
“Sarock?” Memu repeated.
“Yes,” Barzani said, “I hear you. We are simply making sure we have no one following us. Patience, Memu. We are so close to our goal, we dare not take a wrong step now.”
The security guard seemed to be satisfied with the answer. Since they were backed into their parking spot, he folded his arms and kept his focus out the front window.
“Yes, Sarock,” he said.
Barzani slowly removed the metal cylinder from his pocket and kept it out of view from the front seat. At the top of the cylinder was a digital keypad with the numbers 1–4 displayed. They created a slight beam and Barzani had to cover the light with his hand to avoid Memu’s attention.
On his computer, he could see the authorities closing in on the cabin. They were in the shadows and although he could not identify each person, he knew Nick Bracco and his partner were there. He also knew his men were watching the same image on their monitors inside the cabin. It was only a matter of time before they began firing. His heart swelled with pride. Their dedication went beyond anything he could have ever hoped for.
His soldiers were about to make the ultimate sacrifice. Barzani wished to take as many American lawmen with them.
While Steele took the SWAT team around back, Nick and Matt watched the operation unfold from across the street. Matt was flat on his stomach, his rifle resting on the tripod, with his eye steady in his sight.
Nick was next to him on one knee, viewing the cabin through his binoculars. There were no lights on inside the house, so he kept switching between night vision and regular lenses.
“What are they waiting for?” Matt asked.
“They could be asking themselves the same question about us,” Nick said.
Darkness swallowed the approaching team, while Nick controlled the offensive through his wireless headset.
Nick tapped the headset. “Stevie, you heard male voices through the parabolic?”
“For sure,” Stevie said. “I caught fractions of different conversations, but I definitely heard the word Sarock several times. It’s them.”
“Good work,” Nick said.
Nick tugged on his arm sling; his shoulder began to throb from overuse. He’d stayed off the pain killers since the other meds didn’t seem to mix well with them.
“Team A, you in position?” Nick said into the headset.
“Roger.”
“B?”
“Roger.”
“C?”
“Giddyup.”
Nick licked his lips. He didn’t want any mistakes. Barzani was finally going to be put to rest.
Nick touched his headset. “Is the gas ready?”
“Ready,” came the voice.
Nick had to be definitive. He had to shake off any residual effects of the medication which kept his PTSD in check. But there was a nagging thought running through his mind, he was missing something. Like someone leaving for the airport and sensing they’d forgotten to lock the front door.
“You okay?” Matt said without ever leaving his sight.
“Fine,” Nick lied.
“You going to give the order, or should we wait for them to make a mistake?”
Nick took a deep breath. “I don’t like it.”
Matt turned to face him. “What?”
“Something’s wrong,” he said. “No booby traps. No snipers. It’s too easy.”
Matt sat up and twisted to look behind them. “You think they’ve doubled back behind us?”
“No,” Nick said. “We have that covered. There’s something else and I can’t get to it in my mind.”
Matt grabbed Nick’s good shoulder and stared straight at him. “Look, you’ve taken every precaution. Sometimes you just have to take the chance. It’s risk versus reward, and Nick, right about now the reward is quite appealing.”
Nick nodded. Since he couldn’t qualify his fears, he had no reason the hold up the attack. “You’re right,” he said. “It’s time.”
Nick tapped his headset and addressed the entire team. “They’ll have gas masks and night vision, but they can’t use both and still fire their weapons. So we gas them, then attack. Understood?”
He received three affirmative responses.
Nick looked down at Matt. “If they turn on the lights, our guys could be sitting ducks. Make sure you pick off as many as you can.”
“I’m on it,” Matt said, back into his sight, steady as a rock. His cheeks didn’t even move as he spoke.
“Okay,” Nick said into the headset. “Fire the canisters.”
A couple of loud popping sounds echoed throughout the treetops followed by glass shattering. A moment later a muted blast came from inside the house. It only took a few seconds before the smoke began to drift out of the cabin windows, up and away from the approaching soldiers and SWAT team.
From their position, Nick and Matt could see Team A rush the front door. Two soldiers, one on each side of a battering ram, swung the large metal pipe and bashed in the wooden door like it was Styrofoam. The door crashed down in one piece separating from the hinges and slamming hard against the floor. The team of eight charged in the cabin single file, organized and skillful, like it was choreographed for a film.
Nick got to his feet, too antsy to stay back. He wanted to get inside as soon as possible.
“Stay put,” Matt barked.
Nick tucked himself behind a large tree and shifted his weight back and forth, waiting for gunfire. Waiting for the offensive to take hold. Waiting for Barzani’s body to be carried out on a stretcher.
Instead, there was a flash of bright light which, for a split second, didn’t quite register to Nick’s eye. Not until it was followed by a thunderous explosion. A wall of intense pressure punched the air out of the cabin at a rate of three hundred yards per second. Nick was thrown back into a thick bush and lost his breath. He swallowed gulps of oxygen like a swimmer who’d just surfaced from a long dive. The flash of the explosion overwhelmed his eyes and took out his sight. He could hear the crackling of flames and feel the heat generated from the blast. Screams pierced the night. Men’s screams. Soldiers who’d run straight into the arms of danger.
Next to him, below him, he could hear Matt calling his name.
“You okay?” Matt’s voice was muted, but he could tell he was probably screaming.
Nick had to wait before he could respond. His entire body trembled while he struggled to breathe.
He felt a pair of hands on him while the floaters in front of his face began to give way to the night sky. He could see some tree limbs.
“I’m okay,” he gasped.
Now Matt’s voice was above him, while his shoulder was being tucked into his arm sling properly. He could
