Choke Point

SEVEN

The Group for Specialized Tactics had a streamlined organizational structure to ensure that communication was swift and clear. As Ross and every other Special Forces operator well knew, intel could go stale in a day, an hour, a minute, so it was vital for the group’s command structure to stay lean.

To that end, Major Scott Mitchell was Ross’s sole commander, and Mitchell reported directly to US Special Operations Command/Joint Special Operations Command. Colonel David Evans was the primary liaison between JSOC and Mitchell, ensuring that budgets and bureaucracy did not interfere with the operational arm. To a former command master chief SEAL like Ross who’d spent the better part of his career navigating through a gauntlet of bureaucracies to get his job done, this was, in no uncertain terms, a dream come true.

While Pepper drove and the caravan of four Humvees and the M35 headed south along a heavily rutted dirt road for the town with the semi-pronounceable name, Ross had a tablet computer with satellite link balanced on his lap. He’d established a secure link to GST headquarters at Fort Bragg, North Carolina, and a window had opened to the major’s desk. Mitchell had a touch of gray at his temples and a few wrinkles and scars on his face; otherwise you’d swear he was still a twenty-five-year-old operator, as hard-core and gung ho as his first day with the Ghosts. Ross had seen pictures of Mitchell when the man was younger, and the major resembled the type of guy you’d see on a baseball card, youthful and intense. A few of the Ghost trainees had shared stories of the major’s exploits, rumors mostly, but there was an early mission in the Philippines where Mitchell had been stabbed with a unique, multibladed sword constructed in the shape of a Chinese character, and Mitchell had a scar of that same character on his chest. Someday Ross would ask him about that.

‘Hello, Guardian,’ Ross said, using Mitchell’s call sign for the mission, even though this was a video call. Better to be too formal than too casual with superior officers.

‘Good to see you, Delta Dragon,’ Mitchell said with a knowing grin. ‘Our Key Hole satellite from the NRO is still out of range. They’ll need at least another fifteen minutes. Some pretty dense canopy down there, though, so I’m not sure what kind of images we’ll get.’

‘I know, sir, but it’s worth a shot. Just need to get that bird in position before the storm moves through. After that, all bets are off.’

Mitchell nodded. ‘Now I understand it got a little loud down there.’

Ross winced. ‘One of our AFEUR teammates was compromised and inadvertently fired a round.’

‘You put that very carefully.’

Ross shrugged. ‘I’m the new guy — and this wasn’t the first impression I wanted to make.’

Mitchell steepled his fingers and sighed. ‘So the shot went off, and it all went to hell from there.’

‘Not exactly.’

‘Ross, the Ghosts are about maximum impact with zero footprint.’

‘Absolutely, sir.’

‘You told me this was exactly what you wanted, that you needed to be a Ghost more than anything right now. I believed you. I still believe you — and I’m counting on you to get this done. So are the Secretary of Defense and the National Command Authority.’

Ross’s breathing grew shallow. ‘I understand, sir. I won’t let you down.’

‘Good.’

‘Sir, we get anything more on Delgado?’

Mitchell made a face, that same one he’d made during the first briefing in the isolation chamber back at Fort Bragg. ‘Langley won’t confirm a damned thing. Unfortunately there’s no love lost between us.’

Ross repressed his grin.

It was no secret that one of Mitchell’s operations in southern Afghanistan had got him caught between his orders and a clandestine operation being carried out by the CIA. He’d almost gone up on murder charges until the spooks’ little conspiracy backfired in their faces. And here they were now, trying to bail out the same agency that had almost hung Mitchell.

Trying not to sound as though he were prying, Ross said, ‘Sir, Langley could’ve sent in their own S and R team for this. So I’m still asking the same questions I had before we left: What was Delgado’s mission? Why is he so important? I mean, come on, they owe us that much, don’t they?’

‘He’s a spy working in Colombia. What more do you need?’

‘With all due respect, sir, it’s never that simple.’

A gleam lit Mitchell’s eyes, as though he were proud of Ross for prying. ‘All right. It’s not much, but Delgado’s been in South America for the past ten years. He’s one of the Agency’s most valuable agents in Colombia. This, of course, I got off the record. Colonel Evans says there might be something more because the secretary made a point of requesting us to get this job done.’

‘Fair enough, sir.’

‘I’ll be in touch when the NRO has our bird ready.’

‘Roger that, sir. Thank you, sir.’

Ross nearly lost his grip on the tablet as they hit a pothole and he thumbed off the link.

Pepper looked at him and cocked a brow, hazel eyes flashing beneath his salt-and-pepper crew cut. ‘Mitchell’s a good guy, a straight shooter.’

‘He would’ve been a great Navy SEAL.’

‘Somehow I don’t think that bothers him.’

They exchanged a grin, then Pepper said, ‘That was some good work back there.’

‘Good work?’ Ross snorted. ‘It never goes as planned, does it?’

‘Why should it? That’d be boring.’

Ross had to agree with that. ‘Well, thanks for the backup.’

‘That’s why I get the big bucks. So hey, you served with Matt Tanner?’

Ross glanced at Pepper and frowned. ‘Yeah, Tanner and I go pretty far back, SEAL Team Four in Little Creek. Great guy. Saved my ass more than once.’

‘He said the same about you.’

‘He’s talking about bar fights. So how do you know him?’

‘Tanner was part of an operation in China, and he’d worked with the major. Mitchell brought him to the Liberator to meet the gang.’

Ross’s eyes widened. ‘Tanner never told me that. So you’re saying that Mitchell brought a Navy SEAL to an Army bar?’

‘Hell, yeah, he did. And your boy Tanner actually survived. Good guy. I kept his e-mail. And when I heard you were coming over, I gave him a shout to see if he knew you.’

‘Spying on the new guy?’

‘No, I was actually glad you were coming. It’ll take Kozak and 30K a while to warm up, but you know how that is.’

‘Yeah, you gotta earn it.’

‘Kozak will come around pretty quickly. 30K? He’s another story. That guy needs some 550 paracord to tie down his ego.’

‘I like him.’

‘Really?’

‘He’ll keep me honest.’

Pepper stared through a thought. ‘Oh, that he will. And, sir, I …’ He broke off.

‘What?’

‘It’s nothing.’

Ross frowned. ‘Better spit it out now, or I’ll be thinking about it the whole drive out.’

‘I didn’t want to say anything.’

‘What’s bothering you?’

‘Okay. It’s just … Tanner told me about your boy. I wanted to say I’m really sorry about that.’

Ross stiffened, and his blood turned cold. ‘That’s not something I talk about.’

Pepper grimaced and shook his head, as though embarrassed. ‘No problem. I just wanted you to know that I’d heard, and if you ever want to vent or something …’

‘I wish he hadn’t told you.’

Pepper took a deep breath. ‘Me, too.’

Ross closed his eyes and rubbed the burning sensation. For the past two years he’d done everything he could to move on, to purge all the guilt from his mind, to avoid dwelling on it so he could perform his job. But it — 14 August — always found him, no matter where he was, even deep in a South American jungle.

He snapped open his eyes and quickly activated his Cross-Com. ‘Kozak, what do you got for me?’