“We’re live,” Conner said, stepping back. “We own the front door.”
“Okay,” Goose said, knowing that for the moment they were still running silent, “move out. Conner, this is your door.”
“Affirmative, First Sergeant.” Conner stepped into position as Goose moved away to flank Fieldstone. “Always wanted to know what was behind Door Number Two.”
“Let’s move,” Goose told Fieldstone.
The private went forward, stepping quickly and smoothly. At the juncture of the next hallway, they swapped positions, offering overlapping fields of fire as Goose took the lead, still shoulder to shoulder, moving as much by feel as by sight.
At the end of the hallway, they went up the stairs. Fieldstone covered their back trail as Goose kept his MP5 pointed at the switchback stairs. Goose wished they had the headsets up and operational, but he knew the signals could have been detected and set off warnings for the Syrians. Going room to room without satellite thermographic recon was nerve-racking.
The stairwell opened on another long hallway that ran north and south the length of the building. The hallway was dark but the NVGs lit the area.
Nothing moved.
A door filled the wall ahead of them, probably leading to what had been one of the upstairs labs.
Fieldstone tried the doorknob. “Locked.”
“Unlock it,” Goose said in a low voice. He took the younger soldier’s MP5 and stood with a machine pistol pointed down to the end of the hallway.
“Unlocked,” Fieldstone said.
Goose handed the private his weapon, then opened the door. He pushed the MP5 slightly ahead of him, keeping it safely tucked into the frame of his body so it couldn’t be easily taken away from him.
He’d expected a large, empty room. Instead, he found three women shackled to a single eyebolt in the floor. Two women, Goose amended. One of them couldn’t have been over fifteen, and she looked enough like one of the older women to be her daughter.
They cringed away from him, cringed away from the weapon he carried.
God help us, Goose thought. We’ve got civilians loose inside the target zone.
“First Sergeant,” Fieldstone said in surprise from behind Goose’s back.
And that was when the wheels finally came off and the play went bust.
Goose turned to Fieldstone just as the young private’s head disappeared. Fieldstone never heard the shots that killed him, and by that time he was deadweight falling forward on Goose as the staccato rattle of a fully automatic weapon opened up in the hallway.
United States 75th Army Rangers Temporary Post
Sanliurfa, Turkey
Local Time 2128 Hours
The sat-link relay to Operation Run Dry came alive at once with a harsh squawk; then First Sergeant Goose Gander’s voice filled the command center.
“Base,” Goose said in a hoarse voice. Gunfire sounded in the background, followed immediately by the terrified screams of women. “Base. Base. Do you read? This is Alpha Leader. We’ve got a busted play. I say again, we have a busted play. I need sat-link now.”
Remington strode across the room and stopped behind the op tech that watched over Alpha and Bravo Details. “Put me into the channel,” the captain ordered, pulling his headset up from his neck and fitting it into place.
“Base,” Goose called again.
More gunfire sounded, cutting into the screams of the women.
“That sounds like women, sir,” the private manning the station said.
“Very astute, Private. Now patch me into that channel.” Remington peered at the satellite picture of the terrain.
The warehouse where Goose was with his Alpha squad showed up plainly.
“You’re in, Captain,” the private said.
“Alpha Leader,” Remington said smoothly, “this is Base.”
“Base.” Goose grunted and growled, like he was shifting deadweight. “The play’s busted, Base.”
“You have your orders, Alpha Leader.”
“We have civilians on-site. I’ve got three women—two women and one girl—here with me. There may be more.”
“Affirmative, Alpha Leader. Get done what you can get done. If you can get those people out of there, do so.” Remington clicked out of the link. He knew that if Goose found civilians on-site he wouldn’t leave until he had them clear or there was no chance. “Bring that screen up in thermographic. I want those people inside that warehouse tagged and followed. I’ve got targets up and running, and I want to know where they are.”
“Yes, sir.”
Back in the radio link, Remington said, “Alpha Prime, do you read?”
“Alpha Prime reads, Base.” Keller sounded calm.
“You have your objective, Prime.”
“Affirmative, Base. We’re about finished here.”
Remington watched as the screen shifted hues, changing to thermographic display.
Felix stepped up beside him, almost seeming to appear out of nowhere. Remington didn’t know where the man had been earlier.
“Innocents are in the way of harm, are they, Captain Remington?” Felix smiled as he watched the frantic activity of the yellow and red figures on the screen. Dozens were in motion now. “Strange that with all this equipment and the information you got from Abu Alam, you didn’t know there were women there.”
Remington glanced at the man, feeling the need to show Felix that he was more in control of the situation than it looked. “I knew they were there.”
Felix lifted his eyebrows higher than his sunglasses. “But you didn’t tell your teams.”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“They didn’t need to know.”
“It appears that they do now.”
Remington nodded. “So now they know.”
Felix smiled. “You didn’t want them searching for the women.”
“No,” Remington said, “I didn’t want my guys holding back when they went into that building.”
“And if an innocent had died under friendly fire that wasn’t?”
“Sometimes,” Remington said, “losing an innocent can’t be helped. I accept that possibility.”
“I see.” Felix smiled again. “You are an interesting man, Captain Remington. I shall enjoy seeing more of how your mind works as our friendship continues.”
“Trust me,” Remington said. “You’ve only just started to watch my mind work.”
The buzz of
