As the anchor spoke, a window opened on-screen. Remington watched as footage rolled of a Syrian tank crashing through a building then firing its main gun. The explosion of the shot was muted, but the flash of the shell overpowered the low-level-light video pickup and turned the screen white for a second.
The caption War in Turkey lit up the bottom of the screen, followed by the silhouette of a man in full battle gear carrying another man in his arms.
“What is that?” Remington asked.
“An icon,” one of the dispatch officers answered. “That’s Goose. They cut it out of the footage of the attack at the border. When the aircraft from Wasp dropped out of the sky. They’re starting to use it all the time now. Kind of identifies what we got going on over here.”
Anger and frustration filled Remington. With that one rescue, with those few seconds of imagery, Goose seemed to have captured the world’s attention regarding the Syrian-Turkey conflict.
And Danielle Vinchenzo seemed to have an obsession with the first sergeant. Even after Remington had given blanket orders to his troops that their contact with the media from this point on was to be limited, Vinchenzo had managed to keep Goose in the limelight.
As Remington watched, Goose momentarily filled the screen, in hot pursuit of a Syrian tank. Then the screen cleared and the broadcast switched to a street scene with a Sanliurfa slug line. The silhouette of Goose blinked into place at the end of the slug.
“As you could tell from the earlier footage,” Danielle Vinchenzo said, “American forces, their Turkish counterparts, and the U.N. contingent assigned on a peacekeeping mission in the area took a pounding. Squads continue to comb the wreckage for survivors as well as for enemy troops caught behind the lines when Sanliurfa’s defenders managed to break the Syrian attack and push their line back.”
Sporadic gunfire chattered in the background. A few howitzer shells still took to the air from Mkchian’s artillery banks.
“Has there been any indication of what losses the troops have suffered?” Addison asked.
Remington mentally cursed the news anchor. The last thing he wanted the media to do was release stats on the op. Syrian army intelligence was probably up early this morning catching all the news broadcasts they could to gather information.
Back in the Gulf wars, more so with the second than with the first, the media had worked with the military forces on the ground. The fall of Baghdad had been a carefully orchestrated event in some ways, both for the military and the media.
“I don’t have any numbers for you yet,” Danielle answered, “but I hope to have them soon. From my impression, walking around just this small section of the city, the losses have been considerable.”
The camera panned to take in the fallen buildings across the street. Flames clung stubbornly to two burned-out husks of cars.
“I intend to talk with First Sergeant Samuel Gander at his earliest convenience,” Danielle said, “to see if I can get more concrete news.”
Remington blew out an angry breath. He didn’t know why the woman wasn’t coming to him. He was captain in charge of the American forces occupying the city.
The headset chirped in his ear. He seethed as he watched the news broadcast roll on. “Control,” he snapped.
“This is BirdDog,” Perrin said.
“You’d better have good news, mister,” Remington growled. “Tell me you found your target.”
“No, sir,” Perrin said. “I can’t tell you that. But I did find out something else you might be interested in.”
Remington waited.
“Seems Phoenix Leader has arranged a tête-à-tête with the alphabet group.”
The implications of Perrin’s statement spilled through Remington’s mind like a passenger-train pileup. “Why?”
“Don’t know,” Perrin said. “What I’ve heard is that Phoenix Leader found one of the alphabet guys in the street near where he talked to the target. He took the guy into custody and is refusing to give him back to the alphabet section chief.”
The ramifications shifted constantly as Remington pushed them around. The captain wanted to know what Goose had learned and what he had to say to Agent Cody.
“Is there any sign of your target?” Remington asked.
“No, sir.” Perrin paused. “The guy Phoenix Leader has in custody? He’s the same one I encountered earlier.”
“When you saw Phoenix Leader talking to the target?”
“Affirmative.”
What are you doing, Goose? Remington wondered. Covering your tracks? Or making a deal with the devil?
“Anything you want me to do, Control?” Perrin asked.
“Negative. Keep them in sight.”
“Phoenix Leader doesn’t look like he’s going anywhere. He’s camped out in the security office of the hospital.”
“Don’t lose them if they try to leave,” Remington commanded, turning and heading for the door. “I’ll be there in five.”
At the door, Remington took a final glance at the OneWorld NewsNet channel. Danielle Vinchenzo was still talking. The icon at the end of the slug line remained in place.
And Cal Remington was figuring it was about time to do something with his first sergeant. If he couldn’t get Goose to play ball and keep him informed, then he was going to break him.
Sunshine Hills Cemetery
Outside Marbury, Alabama
Local Time 2232 Hours
Delroy ran, not daring to look back over his shoulder at the thing that chased him through the cemetery. God, help me. Keep that thing from me.
The spongy ground absorbed the rapid impact of his frantic steps. Twice, the ground slid out from under him, causing him to stumble.
He kept his attention focused on the trail leading out of the cemetery.
Marbury was miles away. He knew he’d never make it, but he had no choice except to try. There was nowhere else to run.
Before he had covered fifty yards, a hand closed over Delroy’s shoulder and yanked him around. He tried to bring the shovel up but couldn’t move fast enough. The thing’s hand exploded into his face, slapping him so hard that he thought his neck was broken. Overcome by exhaustion after pushing himself so hard and so long, Delroy didn’t have
