Echo Six: Black Ops 8 - ISIS Killing Fields by Eric Meyer Page A
Authors: Eric Meyer
Tags: thriller, Literature & Fiction, Action & Adventure, Mystery, War & Military, Genre Fiction, Mystery; Thriller & Suspense, War, Men's Adventure, Thriller & Suspense
Ads: Link
found diMosta, still quartering the distant dunes and hills with his scope. "Anything?"
He was thoughtful. "I could swear I saw movement up there." The sniper pointed to a low hill a few hundred meters away, "Nothing for a while, but I could go check it out."
"Negative, not unless you see it again. We may be moving soon."
"Back over the border, that'll be a relief."
"They may order us back over the border, or..."
"You think they could want us to attack an ISIS position inside Syria?"
He shrugged. "I hope not, Vince. I sincerely hope not. Not with that bunch of clowns they sent along with us. We're supposed to show them how it works. Some wise guy got the idea that on the job training is best."
"Shit."
"Exactly."
One hour after the first call to Admiral Brooks, Geena called him back, "The Admiral for you."
"Talley, Sir."
Once again, there were no wasted words. "Since you're inside Syria, you can carry on to a new target. It's a fortified village called Al-Amoh, about fifty klicks from your position. Intel is showing reports of an ISIS command center inside, and a garrison of about twenty men. You're to destroy the center, and hold for further orders."
"Yes, Sir. Twenty hostiles, and I have a dozen men in my command."
"As well as the Iraqis."
He didn't answer at first, as he worked out a polite way to describe their allies. "I'm not sure they'll be at any useful fighting readiness, Sir."
Code for 'they couldn't punch their way out of a paper bag.'
"Then you have your work cut out, Commander. Bring them up to readiness, and while you're at it..."
"Sir?"
"Don't kill any more prisoners. Not for any reason, clear?"
"He was..."
"Is that clear, Mister?"
"Yessir."
"Good. Ms Blake has the coordinates of your new target, so talk to her about where you're going."
"What about air support? We could run into serious problems inside Syria."
"The Russian Air Force is running round the clock missions. Anything we send in is in danger of being shot down. Get your men to Al-Amoh, and take down that ISIS command center. When you're done, we'll give you a safe route out. ISIS is gonna be boiling for your blood when they find out what you've done. And Talley! Look after the Iraqis. Remember, they're our allies."
"Yes, Sir."
"Good luck, Brooks out."
Something had been nagging at the back of his mind. The name of the command post, Al-Amoh, it reminded him of the Mexican war against General Santa Ana. The epic defense of the Alamo, the name was almost the same. As he recalled, the defenders all died when the Mexicans stormed the mission. Not a good omen.
* * *
It was mid-morning before the bulk of Khalil's men arrived. They assembled behind a long, low row of dunes two klicks from the foreigners. The sand dunes screened the noise of their vehicle, and Khalil was confident they'd achieve complete surprise. He regarded his fighters milling around their vehicles, chattering to each other in excited, high-pitched tones. They were about to attack the foreigners and their Iraqi collaborators. To wipe them out and allow their blood to soak into the desert sands, for the vultures to pick over their dead flesh, and gnaw at their bones.
He felt a tremendous pride in his achievement, a total of eighty men, every one of them a committed and skilled fighter.
More than a match for the arrogant foreigners!
He waved to his second-in-command. "Abu, come here. I will explain how we will destroy the enemy. There is something else you should know." He took out the rumpled photo that never left his side, "This soldier is their leader. His name is Talley, and the Caliph has given orders for him to be a priority target. Capture him if possible, I have plans for this man."
Abu Abbas glanced at it and passed it to the next man. He was older than most of his men. An embittered warrior who'd volunteered for every battle since the invasion of Iraq almost twenty-five years ago. During his years of constant fighting, he'd lost an eye to a
He was thoughtful. "I could swear I saw movement up there." The sniper pointed to a low hill a few hundred meters away, "Nothing for a while, but I could go check it out."
"Negative, not unless you see it again. We may be moving soon."
"Back over the border, that'll be a relief."
"They may order us back over the border, or..."
"You think they could want us to attack an ISIS position inside Syria?"
He shrugged. "I hope not, Vince. I sincerely hope not. Not with that bunch of clowns they sent along with us. We're supposed to show them how it works. Some wise guy got the idea that on the job training is best."
"Shit."
"Exactly."
One hour after the first call to Admiral Brooks, Geena called him back, "The Admiral for you."
"Talley, Sir."
Once again, there were no wasted words. "Since you're inside Syria, you can carry on to a new target. It's a fortified village called Al-Amoh, about fifty klicks from your position. Intel is showing reports of an ISIS command center inside, and a garrison of about twenty men. You're to destroy the center, and hold for further orders."
"Yes, Sir. Twenty hostiles, and I have a dozen men in my command."
"As well as the Iraqis."
He didn't answer at first, as he worked out a polite way to describe their allies. "I'm not sure they'll be at any useful fighting readiness, Sir."
Code for 'they couldn't punch their way out of a paper bag.'
"Then you have your work cut out, Commander. Bring them up to readiness, and while you're at it..."
"Sir?"
"Don't kill any more prisoners. Not for any reason, clear?"
"He was..."
"Is that clear, Mister?"
"Yessir."
"Good. Ms Blake has the coordinates of your new target, so talk to her about where you're going."
"What about air support? We could run into serious problems inside Syria."
"The Russian Air Force is running round the clock missions. Anything we send in is in danger of being shot down. Get your men to Al-Amoh, and take down that ISIS command center. When you're done, we'll give you a safe route out. ISIS is gonna be boiling for your blood when they find out what you've done. And Talley! Look after the Iraqis. Remember, they're our allies."
"Yes, Sir."
"Good luck, Brooks out."
Something had been nagging at the back of his mind. The name of the command post, Al-Amoh, it reminded him of the Mexican war against General Santa Ana. The epic defense of the Alamo, the name was almost the same. As he recalled, the defenders all died when the Mexicans stormed the mission. Not a good omen.
* * *
It was mid-morning before the bulk of Khalil's men arrived. They assembled behind a long, low row of dunes two klicks from the foreigners. The sand dunes screened the noise of their vehicle, and Khalil was confident they'd achieve complete surprise. He regarded his fighters milling around their vehicles, chattering to each other in excited, high-pitched tones. They were about to attack the foreigners and their Iraqi collaborators. To wipe them out and allow their blood to soak into the desert sands, for the vultures to pick over their dead flesh, and gnaw at their bones.
He felt a tremendous pride in his achievement, a total of eighty men, every one of them a committed and skilled fighter.
More than a match for the arrogant foreigners!
He waved to his second-in-command. "Abu, come here. I will explain how we will destroy the enemy. There is something else you should know." He took out the rumpled photo that never left his side, "This soldier is their leader. His name is Talley, and the Caliph has given orders for him to be a priority target. Capture him if possible, I have plans for this man."
Abu Abbas glanced at it and passed it to the next man. He was older than most of his men. An embittered warrior who'd volunteered for every battle since the invasion of Iraq almost twenty-five years ago. During his years of constant fighting, he'd lost an eye to a
Similar Books
