Transfer of Power

RAPP HONESTLY THOUGHT they were about to pull off the infiltration without a hitch. And then he heard the call that Whiskey Four was in trouble. His ears perked up, and his eyes intently watched the small monitor at his feet. The terrorist on the screen was sitting with his back to the door. Rapp could see the Tango’s AK-74 leaning against the table within arm’s reach.

After several tense seconds it came over the radio that Whiskey Four was okay and that the team was proceeding into the mansion. Rapp eased a bit, and then he saw the Tango come forward in his chair. Rapp’s body shifted forward as he continued to watch the small screen at his feet.

The Tango had seen something on one of the monitors, but Rapp couldn’t see what it was. When the terrorist’s left hand reached out, Rapp noticed what looked like a radio sitting on the console.

“Go!” The word came from his mouth without any thought or pause.

Rielly turned the key, twisted the knob, and shoved the door open. Rapp was moving through the opening instantly, his silenced MP-10 hugged tight, and his left eye boring down the sights. The terrorist’s head was framed perfectly. The radio was coming to his mouth. He had already got the name Rafique out and was just starting to say something else.

Rapp squeezed the trigger once and held it for a second.

Two rounds spit from the end of the silencer and hit the Tango directly in the back of the head. The hollow-point Glaser rounds breached the skull and released a total of six hundred sixty lethal miniature projectiles. The terrorist was propelled forward, his head landing on the console and his radio dropping to the floor.

Rapp moved quickly for the terrorist’s radio, saying over his lip mike, “I need help. Get the Whiskey Team over here on the double.”

Keeping his gun trained on the open door that led out into the hallway, he grabbed the radio and brought it up to his ear. The voice he heard on the other end caused Rapp’s skin to crawl. It was Aziz.

Rapp had to think fast. Speaking into his own headset first, he said, “Control, we may have to go with jamming. Be ready to do so on my command.” Rapp thought about how to play it. Afterjust a second or two he brought the radio to his mouth and hoped his clipped Farsi accent would work.

“Everything’s all right. It was nothing.”

There was silence for a moment, and then Aziz asked, “Who is this?”

Rapp hesitated for only a second. Into his lip mike, he said, “Control, jam everything! I repeat, everything!”