Choke Point

FORTY-ONE

Pepper was crouched near the window, watching as Aden’s ill-equipped fire services attempted to put out the burning police car with portable extinguishers instead of high-pressure water from a hydrant. Behind them lay a funnel-shaped scorch mark that extended from the asphalt near the mangled car’s chassis all the way to the opposite curb, where other first responders were gathering pieces of debris and shoving them in plastic garbage bags.

At the same time, Pepper was listening intently to the voices coming from the bedroom. The conversation had taken a turn for the worse, he feared, and as he was about to rise and head over toward the door, another explosion thundered from somewhere north, followed by a few shouts from men up on the roof. The small group of firefighters down below shoved radios into their back pockets, and a trio fled in a pickup truck toward the sound of the detonation.

‘Somebody’s having fun with firecrackers,’ grunted 30K, coming up beside Pepper.

‘Nothing ever gets to you, huh?’

‘Actually this apartment does. Know why? Because we can’t defend it. The escape routes suck. Next building’s too far to jump. Gotta run a line of paracord. I’d rather be on the first floor.’

‘Me, too. This is shit. We’re bailing.’

The bedroom door opened and out stepped Ross and Naseem, the latter looking a little pale. ‘Stay away from the window,’ he said.

‘We get that,’ said 30K with a roll of his eyes.

Ross waved over Kozak and they huddled up, staring at Naseem, whose eyes had taken on a sheen that suggested he had something grave to tell them.

However, it was Ross who spoke first:

‘I had the major do a little extra digging for us when I heard our contact here was a CIA informant.’ Ross lifted his chin toward the colonel. ‘Naseem, it’s hard for me to accept that you betrayed your own forces during the uprising, only to tell me you’re working for them again.’

‘The situation is very complicated, and you don’t understand the politics of my country. You don’t understand how your loyalty must sometimes shift — if only temporarily — to get the job done. What I did was meant to save lives.’

‘I’m sorry, Colonel, but I don’t understand that at all,’ said Ross. ‘See these guys here? We’d die for each other. That won’t ever change. So let me ask you, pointblank, are you working for the Harak now? You plan on stabbing your own guys in the back?’

‘Of course not. What I did back then was necessary. But as I said, this is none of your business. They asked me to get you to a safe house near the port, and I will do that.’

‘Wow, shocking,’ said 30K. ‘Yet another local yokel we can’t trust. I say we dump this guy. We go down to the goddamned port, and when the ship arrives, we board her —’

‘And blow the whole operation,’ said Kozak. ‘Dude, that’s your gun talking.’

30K made a pistol with his thumb and forefinger. ‘Shoot first, apologize later.’

‘Captain?’ called Pepper. ‘We can’t stay here tonight. Not up here anyway.’

‘That’s correct, you won’t be staying here,’ said Naseem. ‘I have an apartment on the first floor as well, with a back door exit and van waiting outside at all times. This place is for our observers on the roof. I took you here in case there were more car bombs.’

‘All right, then,’ said 30K. ‘Let’s get down there, check it out, and order up some pizza.’

‘Pizza?’ asked Kozak in disbelief.

Naseem answered for 30K. ‘As a matter of fact, there is a Pizza Hut at the port, and they will deliver.’

‘I know,’ said 30K. ‘I saw it on Google Earth.’ He glanced at Pepper. ‘Double pepperoni?’

Pepper sighed. ‘Nah, pork’s illegal here anyway. Probably just a salad.’

Another explosion close enough to shake the building sent Naseem darting for the ladder.

The Ocean Cavalier was running ahead of schedule and would dock at the Port of Aden at exactly 3:41 a.m. local time. Current time was 9:04 p.m., and Ross was satisfied that, for the time being, the team was safe. Kozak had deployed the drone, which was now in a fixed position on a rocky escarpment overlooking their position. They had marked all the friendly forces within an eight-hundred-meter perimeter and were closely monitoring the comings and goings of any pedestrians brave enough to hit the streets. There had only been a few, mostly police or fire personnel. No hostile contacts identified thus far. The bombing had stopped, and Naseem maintained his argument that Harak forces were responsible. This wouldn’t be the first time they had targeted police and military checkpoints along the main highways.

That four men could devour a half dozen extra-large pizzas within fifteen minutes was a testament to the superior appetites of America’s Special Forces operators. Go big or go home. Even Pepper had succumbed to temptation and ripped into his pie like a honey badger who’d been starved for a week. They’d ordered two veggie lovers, two cheese lovers, one gunfire lovers, and one called the supreme leader or something like that, Ross had mused.

Now they were lying back, rubbing their swollen bellies like pregnant women and burping up toppings, when Kozak gaped at the drone’s remote monitor, leaned forward, and said quite evenly, ‘Holy shit.’

30K and Pepper were up on the apartment building’s roof within thirty seconds of Kozak’s report. They were joined by three of Naseem’s Republican Guard snipers, who were dressed in black fatigues and fielding Dragunov SVD rifles with attached night-vision scopes. The night was warm, the city lights shimmering out to the calm waters of the Arabian Sea unfurling like a black carpet in the distance. There was something strangely calm in the air as the drone of distant traffic faded and the barking mutts once scavenging through the endless alleys settled down for the night. A chill rippled across 30K’s shoulders.

He made another sweep, surveying the rooftops through his rifle’s scope, his chest tightening as he did so. ‘Ghost Lead, this is 30K.’

‘Talk to me, 30K,’ said Ross over the team net. They’d donned their Cross-Coms, plates, helmets and web gear, and the boss had made a point of avoiding optical camouflage, at least around these guys. Better they thought of the Ghosts as another Special Forces team and nothing more.

‘Boss, I’m patching you into my rifle’s scope,’ said 30K. ‘You see we got snipers on the buildings there, there, and over there, to the north. See these two guys up there? And check this out. Look at these bastards over here. And that guy way up there, on the clock tower.’

‘They’re wearing desert fatigues. Are they Naseem’s guys?’ asked Ross.

30K asked one of the snipers, who shook his head, then he confirmed that with Ross.

The bottom line was that Harak forces had posted snipers all over the rooftops in Crater. That, in 30K’s opinion, could mean only one thing.

He lowered his rifle and told Ross that they should get the drone out near Queen Arwa Road, the one leading through the mountain pass and over to the container port in Al Ma’ala — the only good route to reach the port without hiking across the mountain.

Or more precisely, their best escape route.

‘I know what you’re thinking, bro,’ said Ross. ‘Good call. I’ll see if we have a Keyhole in position.’

‘Drone’s heading out now,’ said Kozak.

30K shifted along the rooftop and came up alongside Pepper, who turned to him and said, ‘The sons of Noah called this place the land of milk and honey. Did you know that?’

‘What?’

‘Gilgamesh came here to search for the secret to eternal life.’

‘Did that pizza fry your brain?’

‘Wise men gathered frankincense and myrrh from the mountains here.’

‘Pepper, what the hell?’

‘Dude, this is sacred ground, and these guys here, they’re just turning it to shit.’

‘You mean because they built a Pizza Hut here?’

‘No, you idiot. I mean they keep fighting. You heard the man. The north and the south. It’s never gonna end. I can almost feel God here — and he ain’t happy.’

‘Maybe they should have a pizza party. Everybody loves pizza.’

Pepper almost smiled. ‘You should trade in your rifle for a briefcase and become a diplomat.’

‘Yeah, that’d work. I’d start a war everywhere I went. Funny thing is —’

30K broke off as Kozak’s voice crackled over the radio, his tone urgent:

‘Ghost Team, this is Kozak. I put the drone up on the highway — and we need to get the hell out of here! Right now!’

30K cursed, lifted his rifle, then trained his scope on the highway, panning northwest until his heart sank. He shot to his feet and rapped a fist on Pepper’s shoulder. ‘Come on!’