A handful of warehouses that had once been homes for desert traders still existed, all of them tucked up against the ridgeline.
When it came to raw manpower, the Rangers were outnumbered three to one. The Syrians had bivouacked two hundred men in the area. Twenty-two of them were tank crews. Another 103 were APC crew and transport troops for quick strikes. That left seventy-five men for security detail, pit crew, and on-site mechanical repairs and replacement.
And, Goose told himself, somewhere in there are four high-ranking Syrian military officials.
Keller tapped him on the arm.
Goose looked at the lieutenant, read the signs for pulling back, and nodded. Together, slowly, they pulled back through the mud and rain. Over the ridge, out of line of sight, and too far away to be heard, Goose hunkered down with the lieutenant.
“Well?” Keller prompted.
Goose nodded. “It’ll be tough, sir.”
“There are a lot of guys there, a lot of armor.”
“Yes, sir,” Goose agreed. “But if we stick to the plan, if Bravo goes in and secures the cav—takes out the security there and booby-traps the units—then we go in and take out our four assigned targets, we should have confusion going everywhere. Bravo will scoot for the airfield, and we’ll take out the fuel supplies.”
“Those rooms are supposed to be big.”
“Yes, sir,” Goose agreed. “They’d have to be big, sir, to hold all the fuel the captain says they have there. That’s what makes this a primary target.”
“And it gives us a chance for a little payback,” Keller said.
“Yes, sir. Captain Remington believes that the Syrians have never seen how Rangers work behind enemy lines. He figures if we introduce them to our work, they’ll dodge shadows for a while and not be so hasty in their advances.”
Keller looked up and squinted against the rain. “Right now we’ve got them vulnerable.”
“Yes, sir.”
Keller scraped his boot through the mud. “But this mud isn’t exactly friendly.”
“No, sir,” Goose replied. “This is where we apply that old saying ‘The enemy of my enemy is my friend.’”
“I didn’t know that applied to mud and rain.”
Goose grinned. “Tonight, sir, tonight it does.”
“Okay,” Keller said, “pass the word. We hold back until 2100; then we move Bravo into position and start leapfrogging through this.”
“Yes, sir,” Goose said, sliding away to go find Corporal Tommy Brass. His knee quivered and ached after fifty-three klicks and a full pack. He was surprised it had held together the whole distance. But he’d prayed the whole way, and he knew his team needed him.
Goose moved silently through the night, just another shadow drifting through the rain. But the Ranger first sergeant was one of the most lethal shadows on the move.
United States of America
Fort Benning, Georgia
Local Time 1108 Hours
“Okay,” Lieutenant Benbow said in the small room the provost marshal’s office had given them for privacy, “I’ve got to admit to you, Trimble managed to do some real damage in there.”
Sitting beside Megan, Jenny McGrath felt like that was one of the biggest understatements of the century. She was afraid for her friend and didn’t know what she could do to help.
More than anything, Jenny wanted to know what would happen to Megan if the jury found her guilty today. In the beginning of the trial, Major Trimble had promised all concerned that it would be speedy.
“I know I didn’t help in there,” Megan said. Her voice was a shadow of its former self, as if she was all washed out and didn’t have anything more to give.
“Under the circumstances, I think you did the best you could,” Benbow said.
Jenny put her hand on top of Megan’s in a gesture of support. She was surprised at how cold her friend’s hand was.
“What do we do now?” Megan asked.
Benbow shifted in his chair. “I’m going to work on the cross. Since Trimble called you to the stand and introduced a lot of these other elements, I’ve got some latitude to bring in more of the information we have about Boyd Fletcher.”
Jenny didn’t understand much of the legal work. She did know that in a civilian trial Megan would never have had to take the witness stand unless she’d wanted to. In a military court, she’d had no choice. And Trimble had been able to call her to testify, which was also something that wouldn’t normally have been allowed.
“I’m going to do a hatchet job on Boyd Fletcher,” Benbow said. “Maybe I can earn us some sympathy from the jury there.”
“They think I threw Gerry’s clothes over the side of the building,” Megan said in a dull voice. “Trimble has made me out to be some kind of … of … conniving crackpot.”
Benbow sighed. “I have to admit, I didn’t see this coming.” He looked at his notes. “I don’t know, Megan; maybe I can talk them into a deal. Trimble has laid the groundwork for a possible mental-health defense.”
“And he did that as well,” Megan said.
“I think so. He was just putting a golden parachute into place for you.” Benbow smiled a little. “I was watching Arthur Flynn while this was going down. He’s not a happy guy. Trimble, jerk that he is, is so set on getting you and breaking down your testimony that he’s killing the civil suit.”
“So if I’m crazy I could get off,” Megan said.
Benbow nodded.
“Do you think I’m crazy?”
“No, Megan. I don’t think that.”
“Do you think I threw Gerry’s clothing over the side of the building?”
“No, I don’t believe that either.”
Megan took a breath. “Then do you believe me when I say the Rapture occurred that night?”
Benbow pushed out his breath in a long sigh. “When it comes to that, I just don’t know. I
