Choke Point

SIXTY-TWO

‘Delta Dragon, this is Cannonball,’ came a familiar voice over the command net. Ross had met Captain Pat Rugg on the LCS. At six-five, 270 pounds, the Marine was an irradiated beast, lacking only the green skin and glowing eyes. His biceps were as thick as Ross’s hips. He had this Genghis Khan/Conan the Barbarian rap about not being happy until his enemies were crushed, their cities reduced to ashes, their women lamenting. This, he explained, was what was best in life.

Well, it was time to make the platoon leader happy.

‘Cannonball, this is Delta Dragon. Where are you guys?’

‘Getting into position now.’

‘Roger that. Wait for our charges, then cut loose.’

‘Understood. Cannonball, out.’

The Marines had planted charges along the railroad tracks and would also take out the trip wire booby traps Ross and the team had marked for them.

A window popped up in Ross’s HUD, and there was Mitchell, seated at a command terminal back home in Fort Bragg, his face illuminated by the bank of monitors around him. ‘Ross, the Stallion and Seahawks are inbound, ETA two minutes.’

‘Roger that, sir. We’re set. I can already hear the choppers.’

‘Good hunting, Captain.’

‘Thank you, sir.’

30K, who was crouched down beside Ross in the trees behind the bunkers, lowered his binoculars and said, ‘They’re starting to freak out now.’

‘Kozak? Pepper? You ready?’

They chimed in, one after the other.

‘All right, guys. On three. One, two —’

Ross thumbed the button on his remote detonator, as did 30K. Two of the bunkers vanished in white-hot flashes followed by an echoing boom and blast wave that stretched as far back as their position. Even as the dirt was still flying, multiple explosions went off behind them, and that was Rugg and his people exercising their addiction to high explosives.

As those random thunderclaps rose, an even larger explosion resounded from the opposite side of the outpost, where Kozak and Pepper had planted their charges on Hamid’s helicopter.

Not a gasp after those fires lifted into the air, the remaining men in the perimeter bunkers turned their machine gun fire skyward, tracer rounds gleaming like laser fire and reaching out toward the approaching Seahawks –

But that offensive lasted only a few seconds before Rugg’s Marines, carefully concealed in the jungle, opened fire on those bunker positions, while he sent in another squad to flank them.

Ross and 30K sprinted off, weaving through the trees and toward the huts, just thirty meters away, where their own intel indicated that Valencia, Delgado, and Hamid were inside the center hut, where they’d established a command post. Bahar had not been spotted since his first appearance with Hamid near the chopper. They were about to find out if he was still there.

‘Delta Dragon, if you’re gonna move, move now,’ cried Cannonball over the command net. ‘I’ve got the bunkers tied up for you, but I don’t know for how long.’

‘Roger, we’re on it!’

As Ross and 30K drew closer, 30K tossed out a sensor grenade that revealed six more men posted beside and on top of at least three of the huts.

‘Kozak? How’re you doing?’ Ross asked.

‘The big boy’s still about a minute out. Stallion’s just coming in now.’

‘Get a move on!’

‘Hell, yeah, sir!’