oscar-mike.
“Where to next, Captain?” Jonah asked Kellan as they left the hamlet.
“You took Grizzly to visit an apartment building in the city center, correct?”
“Yes, sir.”
“We have intel that the contraband material in question is passed from the hamlet we just left to a group residing inside the apartments.”
“Would this be the American-made military munitions even the military doesn’t have access to?”
“It would.”
“Damn,” Jonah muttered.
“Hitman-Two-One, Diyala firm base.” Top Resler’s voice sounded in Jonah’s ear.
“Go for Two-One,” Jonah replied.
“There’s chatter on the net saying an Army EOD unit is disarming an IED not far from firm base. Interested?”
Jonah turned in his seat to look at Kellan.
“Yes,” Kellan said shortly, jaw tight.
Jonah realized Kellan was angry. Whatever the cause of these suspicious items showing up in Iraq, it pissed Kellan off. Given Kellan’s level of anger, Jonah almost felt sorry for the assholes responsible for this investigation. Almost.
Jonah keyed his mic. “That’s affirmative, Diyala. Give me the grid.”
§ § §
They rolled slowly down the wide street. Several Army Humvees lined the sides, and two blocked progress where they were parked nose-to-nose. Jonah’s Marine status got them far down the line, but it was the FBI that finally got them past the roadblock. They used the gun truck as a meager shield, those not riding walking beside it at a steady pace.
Reaching the lone Army EOD Humvee, they found a sergeant and a specialist on high alert.
“Due respect, sirs,” the sergeant said, not looking away from where his weapon was pointed. “I don’t know what kind of juice you have to get past all that security, but my team leader is currently suited up and disarming an IED. I gotta keep eyes on all the unfriendlies that think this is a spectator sport.”
Written on the side strap of his helmet, Jonah saw the sergeant’s name: Whitcomb.
“Sergeant Whitcomb, I’m Gunnery Sergeant Carver,” Jonah said, understanding Whitcomb’s anxiety. “I’m providing security to an FBI team that needs access to that IED once your Team Leader has cleared it.”
Both of the EOD soldiers froze momentarily. Jonah knew the look; they were listening to a radio transmission.
Whitcomb keyed his shoulder mic and responded, “Roger that, Haines. Be advised, you got FBI here that wanna see the device when you’ve cleared it, so don’t keep any souvenirs.”
Whatever Haines’ response had been, made the specialist, whose helmet strap identified him as Buress, snort a brief laugh.
“Yeah, you can tell them yourself when you’re clear. Their security is a tall-ass Marine who looks like he could handle even your brand of crazy,” Whitcomb spoke again into his mic.
“Sergeant Whitcomb, I got three on a roof, eleven o’clock,” Buress stated, lifting his weapon higher.
Jonah and his Marines lifted their weapons too.
“Hurry it up, Haines,” Whitcomb said.
After a pause, Whitcomb addressed himself to Jonah. “Haines says he’s sorry for the delay, but he’s found additional devices and would appreciate it if the FBI would find a way to keep American components out of the hands of the enemy.”
Jonah felt the entire FBI team tense at Whitcomb’s words. Kellan gripped Jonah’s arm tightly.
“Sergeant Whitcomb, please advise Sergeant Haines to neutralize all the devices, but otherwise, do not touch them,” Jonah ordered, knowing the Army was not required to follow his order.
“Haines don’t take too well to bein’ told what to do,” Whitcomb responded. “Your best bet is to get to his location quick as you can.”
“I’ll leave some of my men here on the outer perimeter if you’d be so kind as to escort us to Sergeant Haines.”
§ § §
“This guy is a diabolical motherfucker,” Haines said with something akin to respect.
“How so?” Milagros asked.
Haines gestured with a multifunctional tool
“Where to next, Captain?” Jonah asked Kellan as they left the hamlet.
“You took Grizzly to visit an apartment building in the city center, correct?”
“Yes, sir.”
“We have intel that the contraband material in question is passed from the hamlet we just left to a group residing inside the apartments.”
“Would this be the American-made military munitions even the military doesn’t have access to?”
“It would.”
“Damn,” Jonah muttered.
“Hitman-Two-One, Diyala firm base.” Top Resler’s voice sounded in Jonah’s ear.
“Go for Two-One,” Jonah replied.
“There’s chatter on the net saying an Army EOD unit is disarming an IED not far from firm base. Interested?”
Jonah turned in his seat to look at Kellan.
“Yes,” Kellan said shortly, jaw tight.
Jonah realized Kellan was angry. Whatever the cause of these suspicious items showing up in Iraq, it pissed Kellan off. Given Kellan’s level of anger, Jonah almost felt sorry for the assholes responsible for this investigation. Almost.
Jonah keyed his mic. “That’s affirmative, Diyala. Give me the grid.”
§ § §
They rolled slowly down the wide street. Several Army Humvees lined the sides, and two blocked progress where they were parked nose-to-nose. Jonah’s Marine status got them far down the line, but it was the FBI that finally got them past the roadblock. They used the gun truck as a meager shield, those not riding walking beside it at a steady pace.
Reaching the lone Army EOD Humvee, they found a sergeant and a specialist on high alert.
“Due respect, sirs,” the sergeant said, not looking away from where his weapon was pointed. “I don’t know what kind of juice you have to get past all that security, but my team leader is currently suited up and disarming an IED. I gotta keep eyes on all the unfriendlies that think this is a spectator sport.”
Written on the side strap of his helmet, Jonah saw the sergeant’s name: Whitcomb.
“Sergeant Whitcomb, I’m Gunnery Sergeant Carver,” Jonah said, understanding Whitcomb’s anxiety. “I’m providing security to an FBI team that needs access to that IED once your Team Leader has cleared it.”
Both of the EOD soldiers froze momentarily. Jonah knew the look; they were listening to a radio transmission.
Whitcomb keyed his shoulder mic and responded, “Roger that, Haines. Be advised, you got FBI here that wanna see the device when you’ve cleared it, so don’t keep any souvenirs.”
Whatever Haines’ response had been, made the specialist, whose helmet strap identified him as Buress, snort a brief laugh.
“Yeah, you can tell them yourself when you’re clear. Their security is a tall-ass Marine who looks like he could handle even your brand of crazy,” Whitcomb spoke again into his mic.
“Sergeant Whitcomb, I got three on a roof, eleven o’clock,” Buress stated, lifting his weapon higher.
Jonah and his Marines lifted their weapons too.
“Hurry it up, Haines,” Whitcomb said.
After a pause, Whitcomb addressed himself to Jonah. “Haines says he’s sorry for the delay, but he’s found additional devices and would appreciate it if the FBI would find a way to keep American components out of the hands of the enemy.”
Jonah felt the entire FBI team tense at Whitcomb’s words. Kellan gripped Jonah’s arm tightly.
“Sergeant Whitcomb, please advise Sergeant Haines to neutralize all the devices, but otherwise, do not touch them,” Jonah ordered, knowing the Army was not required to follow his order.
“Haines don’t take too well to bein’ told what to do,” Whitcomb responded. “Your best bet is to get to his location quick as you can.”
“I’ll leave some of my men here on the outer perimeter if you’d be so kind as to escort us to Sergeant Haines.”
§ § §
“This guy is a diabolical motherfucker,” Haines said with something akin to respect.
“How so?” Milagros asked.
Haines gestured with a multifunctional tool
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