Choke Point

EIGHT

Kozak and 30K were in the lead Hummer, with 30K at the wheel and Kozak handling the UAV’s remote. One of the AFEUR troops stood behind them in the roof-mounted weapons station, manning the M2 Browning .50-caliber machine gun (aka ‘Ma Deuce’). Rain poured off the gunner’s legs and boots and puddled on the Hummer’s floor. Kozak wished they could just call the man back inside and seal the hatch because he was getting soaked himself.

At the moment, the drone crawler darted just above the treetops, skimming like a flat rock across an emerald-colored pond. The drone’s sensors were reaching out into the jungle ahead, data piped back from thermal and optic cameras, along with Forward Looking Infra Radar (FLIR) images indicating that the jungle on either side of the dirt road was still clear.

Bad news was that the drone’s satellite link was beginning to deteriorate as the storm neared the coast, with even heavier rain on the way and wind gusts up to sixty miles per hour.

‘Ghost Lead, this is Kozak. Secondary battery on the drone down to thirty minutes. Doesn’t matter anyway. Gotta reel her in once the big rain hits.’

‘Roger that. For now, though, get her up as high as you can and focus on the rivers ahead. They might try to move our package by boat. We have a Key Hole coming within range, but I need something now.’

‘I’m on it. Taking her up. Kozak, out.’

The drone crawler had been designed to remain on a fairly short leash, with a 1.5 to 2 kilometer range and sixty to ninety minutes of battery life, depending upon its power state: high drain occurred when in crawler mode, medium drain when quadcoptering, and low drain when stationary and just transmitting. Their load out included this UAV plus one backup, and while the UCAV — a tri-rotor drone with variants that included fragmentation grenades, missiles and a 5.56mm light machine gun — would’ve come in handy, they usually reserved that bird for interdiction, direct action and other assault-type missions, not hostage rescues.

Kozak fought with the controls as yet another gust buffeted the drone. The images coming in turned grainy, occasionally popping with static like his mom’s old Sony TV wired up to that rooftop antenna. He caught sight of two intersecting rivers, where the tree line seemed to fold in as though the ground were plummeting into a fault line. Farther out, the sky had turned gunmetal gray, with a wall of black clouds approaching from the west like an invading mother ship. There wasn’t much time.

‘So how you liking the new boss?’ asked 30K.

‘Good.’

‘What do you mean good?’

Kozak refocused his attention on the drone’s monitor. ‘I like him.’

‘Better than Ferguson?’

‘They’re two completely different operators.’

‘What does that mean?’

Kozak thought a moment.

Captain Cedrick Ferguson, a thirty-eight-year-old African-American from Minneapolis, had formed a deep bond with them and had served successfully as their Ghost Lead on some highly volatile operations in Zambia, Nigeria, the arctic, and even Russia. Ferguson was a family man with two young sons and was married to a school principal. He was arguably the most levelheaded and decisive man Kozak had ever known, with both his professional and personal lives balanced in a way that only few soldiers could manage. The bullets could be flying, people could be dying, but Ferguson’s cool and curt commands would put you at ease. His absence was actually part of the larger Group for Specialized Tactics’ team availability and organizational structure.

The GST had four operational detachments of between eight and twelve operators each. The detachments, known as A, B, C, and D squadrons, fielded four-man teams, and very often Ghost Leads would rotate through several teams before a kind of natural selection took place and they settled in with a consistent group of operators, developing a shorthand forged only through time and experience.

Teams rotated through three status levels: Ready, Standby and Hold, with two detachments always in the ready status to immediately deploy, one on standby, and one on hold. Ferguson had temporarily rotated to a team on hold so he could enjoy some well-deserved R & R and spend time with his family. And yes, news of a new Ghost Lead taking them out, one who wasn’t even an Army SF operator, had unnerved Kozak. The rumors had run rampant, the reservations so tangible that Kozak actually had a bitter taste in his mouth a few hours before he’d met Ross. But when he’d learned of the man’s credentials and listened to Major Mitchell speak so highly of one Captain Andrew Ross, Kozak was put at ease. What’s more, Ross said he had a grandfather on his mother’s side who’d been born in Saint Petersburg, Russia.

Unsurprisingly, 30K had a problem with new Ghost Leads — especially those who were, as he’d put it, ‘members of Uncle Sam’s Canoe Club.’

‘Well, I get the impression Captain Ross thinks he’s above us. He was a Navy SEAL, serving with operators I’m sure he believes were the very best. You know, the SEALs got all the Hollywood hype, so now as he gets older, he’s just slumming with us, putting in his time.’

Kozak glanced incredulously at his teammate. ‘When did you get that impression?’

‘First time I laid eyes on him.’

‘Or maybe after he corrected you for jumping the gun?’

‘I don’t like any of this. I don’t think bringing in people from other branches is a good idea.’

‘You afraid to learn something new?’

30K snorted. ‘So if we watch the Army-Navy Game, who do you think he’ll root for?’

‘Who cares?’

‘Aw, I’m talking to the wrong guy.’

‘I think Pepper likes him. And if Pepper is good to go, then so am I. Besides, when we’re out here, none of that shit matters.’

30K muttered something under his breath, then said, ‘You’re in awe of the guy, aren’t you?’

‘Hey, you read his record. Silver Star, three Bronze with V, too many commendations to remember, and even the Presidential Unit Citation.’

‘We ain’t here for medals.’

‘He was DEVGRU — Naval Special Warfare Development Group. It’s not like they killed bin Laden or anything, right?’

‘Why don’t you join the Navy?’

Kozak shook his head and sighed. ‘If you’re looking for hard-core proof that the guy is legit, then there it is.’

‘You’re just another fanboy.’

‘Give him a chance.’

‘Oh, I’ll work with him. I’ll show him how we roll. He might look like Mr Perfect on the outside, but something doesn’t sit right with me. I want to know his weaknesses. His baggage. Then I can work around them — to keep us both alive.’

Kozak hardened his voice. ‘Do you trust me?’

‘I will. I’m not done training you yet.’

‘You amaze me.’

‘And one day when you grow up, you’ll amaze me, too, little brother …’

The narrow dirt road began to jog to the left, and 30K hit the brakes to roll into the turn. As the Hummer began to fishtail slightly to the left –

Fireflies twinkled beside the rubber trees lining both sides of the road.

Only they weren’t fireflies.