One Rough Man

“Maybe, maybe not. I can’t get in touch with Mason or his team, and I don’t want to lose the targets again. If we can’t link up with them, we’ll get a fix on the beacon and hit Pike and the girl ourselves.”

He saw the team start to grin, apparently anticipating an easy kill and the bonus that went along with it. “Don’t get a hard-on yet. I’ve told you what happened in D.C. Remember that. This isn’t a cake-walk. We close in on him and take him out with overwhelming force. I’m not risking another complicated operation. We smoke him and the girl, then immediately head back here and catch the first thing flying home.”

Lucas gave the team a minute to break their weapons out and kit up, then said, “All right. Let’s move. Remember what I said. You might think you’re a killer, but this guy really is.”

Twenty minutes later, Lucas’s team idled in the parking lot of a restaurant on the northern end of Sarajevo. They had traveled the entire length of the city, the cars spreading out on the surface roads in an attempt to contact Mason and his team by both cell phone and radio. They had failed, and now Lucas had a choice to make. I can spend my time trying to find Mason, or I can spend my time trying to kill Pike.

He decided to execute the mission with the second-tier team, since he had no idea how long Pike’s beacon would last. Batteries might be going dead while I sit here with my thumb up my ass. Lose that, and the whole game’s over. He’d worry about Mason later. In fact, he wouldn’t worry about Mason at all. He’d failed, and now, as in the past, Lucas would be forced to clean up the mess. He liked to think he was being logical, but the truth was he wanted Pike. Wanted to be the one who twisted the knife. And make no mistake, Pike wasn’t going to die easy. Not anymore. As he saw it, all of his troubles centered on one man. The ongoing investigation that had forced him to flee the U.S. was precisely the result of this asshole’s evading Lucas’s net. The thought rankled him. Made him eager for the hunt.

He watched the beacon track on the computer in his lap and committed the team.

“Target’s on the move. He’s headed this way. By the speed of the beacon, he’s mounted. We’ll wait here until he dismounts. Once he’s stationary, we’ll roll. This car will lead, passing up his location. The trail car will follow, stopping short. On my command — I say again, on my command — we’ll execute the mission. Nobody, and I mean nobody, will fire until I give the command. Once that command is given, everyone with a shot needs to fire. Is that understood?”

Lucas waited, hearing confirmation from every member of the team. “Okay. Good. I’ll call once he stops. We’ll take a look at the terrain, form a quick plan, then move.”

Superimposed over the satellite image of the neighborhood, Lucas watched the beacon inch closer, seeing it stop short about a kilometer from their location. Within a minute, he saw the dot move again at a much slower speed.

“Stand by. He’s now on foot.”

Lucas felt the tension grow. The endgame was approaching. Pike was a dangerous man, someone to fear, but he couldn’t possibly stand up to the concerted effort of the entire team. Maybe he can kill one or two, but there’s no way he can kill us all.

He saw the blip stop inside the courtyard at the back of a house on the east side of a small street. This was it.

“All right. Team leaders get over here.”

He pointed out the house, dictating where the vehicles would stop and where they would dismount and set up fields of fire.

“We wait until he comes out, all night if we have to. Once he’s out, we open up, killing him. Pretty simple. Any questions?”

One team leader asked, “What about the girl? Isn’t she part of the mission?”

“Yeah, she is, but I can’t predict whether she’s with him or not. If she’s with him, smoke her. If not, we’ll find her later. I’m through messing around with this guy.”

* * *

Retro and I covered the back door and a corner window from the courtyard at the back of the house, waiting on the call from Knuckles. My earpiece gave a hollow echo, Knuckles speaking in a calm monotone, “Execute, Execute, Execute.” The call brought back memories of assaults past. I tensed up, waiting to see if someone would attempt to run from the rear of the house. My mind’s eye ran through what was occurring in the house, the team flowing like water through the rooms looking for a threat. I heard no gunfire, which could be either good or bad.

Five minutes later I heard the all-clear given, and the back door was opened by Knuckles.

“What did you find?” I said.

“Nothing. We found the cell phone, but it’s the only thing here right now. No other targets. The house looks like it’s lived in, but there’s nobody home.”

“Great. That figures.”

“What do you think? A stay-behind?”

“I don’t know. I suppose that’s the best course of action. We don’t have anything else. I could stay, you could give me another couple of guys, and we could sort it out when the owner returns. How’s that sound?”

“I’m good with that, but maybe we’re getting ahead of ourselves. Let’s turn this place upside down first. Maybe we’ll find something of interest. In the meantime, maybe whoever owns this phone will return while we’re still here.”

“Let’s get busy. I’ll start upstairs.”

* * *

A hundred meters down the street, Bakr had finished with the device and was sitting before his dinner of moldy bread and nuts when he perked up at the sound of another car, only the second one he had heard all day.

* * *

Lucas pulled past the target house, parking on the east side of the narrow street. The position gave him a full view of the right side of the street and clear fields of fire to the front door of the target. His satellite imagery display showed the beacon superimposed directly over the house. Pike had moved inside. He waited until he saw the follow vehicle stop short on the other side of the target about a hundred meters away before telling the team to deploy into firing positions. He watched one man exit the follow vehicle and move nonchalantly to the corner of the house where his car was parked, taking cover behind a concrete planter. Another man sauntered across the street, attempting to cover the back of the target house.

* * *

Bakr peeked out the front window. His heart skipped a beat when he saw a car stop right in front of his house with three Caucasian men inside. That was not natural at all. He continued watching from the corner of the window, wanting to believe his paranoia was getting the better of him, but feeling the adrenaline start to flow. He saw one man with a rifle walk to the corner of his house and take a knee, peering over the planter out front. The man made an attempt at hiding the weapon under his jacket, but the barrel could still be observed poking out under the hem. Bakr had seen enough.

He raced to the basement, taking the stairs two at a time. Grabbing an AK-47 and four loaded magazines, he sprinted out of the basement and up to the second floor. Peering out a bedroom window, he saw the gunman directly below him.

The man was obviously preparing to assault the house with the other men from the car. Bakr knew he had to go on the offensive, and quickly. He could attempt to run out of the back of the house, but feared it was already covered with men he couldn’t see. He could run out the front, but that would send him straight into at least three men. Either plan of escape would be better if he seized the initiative while they were still getting ready. He slowly opened the window, praying it didn’t squeak.

99

The sound of an AK-47 rocking on full automatic caused me to hit the floor. What the fuck? It wasn’t in our house, so it wasn’t directed against the team. I peeked out a window, trying to identify the source of the fire, the upstairs vantage point giving me an unobstructed view down the road. I saw a