Bridger fought the urge to cough as he passed the door leading to the tunnel. He paused and stared at the door. “Tell me al-Abadi wasn’t in that tunnel.”
Deric shook his head and coughed violently. “I didn’t see him in there.”
Bridger huffed and trotted back to Gregg. “What are they saying?”
Gregg dropped the headphones and shook his head. “They don’t care. They said that they lost too many men.”
Bridger gave him a wide eyed stare. “Not from us!”
Gregg shrugged. “They don’t care.”
Both men looked to Chesterfield. “You’re screwed, man.”
“Let me talk to them! This is supposed to be my op!” Darren nodded toward the headphones. “Please, just…I’ll tell them to stand down.”
Gregg looked to Bobby who shrugged. “It’s worth a shot.”
Gregg slid the headphones onto Chesterfield’s head and adjusted the lip mic. “You’re hot.”
“This is Agent Chesterfield. Stand down! That’s an order!” He listened to the replies then nodded to Gregg. “I think they got the message.”
Camp Deric, South of Dallas, TX
ALI BIN-HAMZA leaned against a tree, his face covered in dirt, sweat and blood. He sucked in the warm Texas air and glared back at the military style bunkers. “We were this close.”
“Ali…look!” One of his few remaining soldiers pointed back towards the woods. “Isn’t that him?”
Ali lifted his spy glasses and stared at the short, pudgy man darting across the clearing and towards a stand of trees. “That is him!” He grabbed the man closest to him. “Get him now!”
Three of his soldiers bolted across the open ground and Ali realized, he was alone. He stared into the shadows behind him expecting to see that babyfaced coward but there was nobody left.
He slumped to the ground, his leg throbbing from the bullet wound yet he resisted screaming. Instead, he clenched his jaw and prayed that Allah would bring them good fortune.
Camp Deric, South of Dallas, TX
JAY’S VOICE CRACKLED over the coms. “We got a runner. Muhammed just escaped the middle bunker.”
Bridger groaned. “Son of a bitch. Why would he rabbit on us? Does he have a fucking death wish?” He went to the door and reached for the handle. He glanced back to Slippy. “Tell me it’s clear.”
Slippy gave him a thumbs up and Bridger disappeared out the door.
“That’s al-Abadi, I take it?”
Gregg set a video camera on the counter in front of Chesterfield. “You don’t worry about who it is. Right now, you have some ‘splaining to do.”
Camp Deric, South of Dallas, TX
JAY PLANTED THE reticle squarely on the chest of the lead haji. He knew that even with the suppressor, the tactical team would hear the shot. What he couldn’t know was whether that would negate their stand down order.
Movement from the corner of his eye broke his thought process and he glanced to the right to see Bridger running full steam across the front clearing, making a bead on the three men crossing.
“I can drop them, Bobby. Give me the clearance.”
“We have a ceasefire. Don’t shoot unless you have to,” Bridger huffed as he sprinted down the gentle slope.
Jay spun on his axis and found al-Abadi huffing and puffing his way to the trees. As soon as he broke into the woods, Jay scanned back to the men quickly closing the gap. “I may not have a choice.”
“Then do it!” Bridger made a running leap and vaulted a rock outcropping. He oomphed as his full weight came down on the other side and pumped his legs faster, hoping to close the distance on the little weapons dealer.
Jay offered up a silent prayer and loosed a round. The lead runner tumbled and fell. Jay watched carefully and sighed when the man didn’t stand again. “One down.”
Bridger broke into the trees with a crash and Jay loosed a second shot, dropping the second terrorist just meters behind Bridger. “One man standing.”
Bridger spotted al-Abadi and tackled him, rolling him across the ground as the man screamed and kicked at him. “Stop it!” Bridger drew a fist back, prepared to render him unconscious when al-Abadi recognized him and stared up at the giant man with wide eyes. “Quiet.”
Jay watched as the third terrorist came into view then he stopped and scanned the woods. He had just applied pressure to the trigger when the man suddenly dropped into the tall grass and disappeared.
Jay let his breath out as he released the trigger and studied the area where the man had disappeared. “One left, Bobby. He dropped out of view.”
“Copy that.” Bridger pulled al-Abadi behind a large oak and planted him in the dirt. “Why the fuck did you try to run?”
Muhammed al-Abadi shook his head. “There was a loud explosion on one side and gas began to pour in from the other. I expected them to enter at any moment.” His voice was a frightened whisper and Bridger pressed his finger to his lips, shushing him.
His eyes scanned the edge of the trees and every rustle of leaves, snap of a twig or even the wind through the tall grass had his head snapping in that direction.
“We are about to die, aren’t we?”
“If you don’t stop talking we are,” Bridger hissed. He swept his eyes back and forth, looking for any movement. He was almost convinced that he was imagining the noises when he heard a grunt to his left. His arm instinctively flew out and pressed al-Abadi to the base of the tree while his right pulled his side arm. He loosed two rounds in the general direction of the noise and heard a yip as one of the rounds found its mark.
Bridger ducked low and focused on the sounds from that direction. “You hit him, buddy,” Jay’s whispered voice came across his earpiece. Bobby slowly reached up and tugged the bud from his ear. He strained to listen and could just make out the sound of somebody crawling through the underbrush.
He slowly brought his right arm up and allowed his weapon point toward the
