----
Chapter One
Colonel Cameron Murphy wasn’t afraid of dying. The thought of dying without
accomplishing his mission, however, really burned his ass.
“On my mark,” he whispered into his mouthpiece as he looked at his men, six
of the best Special Forces soldiers he’d ever known.
They nodded, one after the other, wound tight and ready for action.
He motioned to Martin and Bullseye to start spreading out to the right. The
small group was too close together, too easy a target if the enemy picked up on
their location. They were surrounded. The noose was tightening.
Two-hundred feet ahead. Blackhaw signaled to his left and pointed.
Cameron stared into the lush African jungle. Nothing but the odd leaf
bobbing, likely disturbed by some giant insect. The birds and the rest of the
wildlife had left or hid as soon as the gun battle had begun. But if there was
anything to see, Blackhaw would be the one to pick it up. His Cherokee blood
made him a hunter to be reckoned with.
There. The straight line of a rifle, a contrast to the curvy air roots
among which the enemy hid.
“Now!” Cameron tossed his grenade and charged forward, spraying the jungle
with bullets as he went.
“Tangos to the left!” Bullseye covered him from behind, keeping up.
More and more fire came at them from the terrorists who guarded the hidden
fields in the jungle — the source of drug money used to finance attacks around
the world. Stopping the money flow would cut off the legs of the terrorist
group — catching the leader would cut off its head. Cameron was determined to
accomplish his dual mission, even if his team was outnumbered twenty to one.
“Watch the back,” Blackhaw shouted over the incessant gunfire as he rushed
by.
Then they were through, broken out of the noose.
“Hold your fire,” Cameron spoke into his headset. The men melted into the
woods like shadows, running forward with the easy grace of panthers. Before they
could make plans for a final attack, they had to rendezvous with the rest of
their team. They’d gone off a few days ago in search of the jungle fortress the
terrorist leaders used for central command. “Anyone injured?”
Instead of an answer, his earpiece carried a more distant communication.
“Platoon Commander to Colonel Murphy. Return to base. Over.”
Had the man gone crazy? Cameron swore, but slowed. If whatever was going down
was more important than this, it had to be as serious as shrapnel in the eye.
“Team returning. Over.” He lifted his hand to signal to his men.
“Return requested for the Colonel only. Over.”
He stopped.
Something in the other man’s voice made a shiver run down his back in all
that jungle heat.
Chapter Two
“Over two hundred people are confirmed dead, so far,” the Platoon Commander
was saying and went on with details.
Cameron stared at his feet. His brain had stopped back at the beginning of
the briefing: Domestic terrorists blew up the city hall in Great Falls,
Montana.
Great Falls.
City Hall.
Vicky.
“I’m sorry, Colonel. We’ll keep you posted on all developments related to
your sister’s condition.”
“Who is investigating?” He looked up. It felt as if ice were spreading
through his chest, frosting the edges of the hole where his heart used to be.
“Local law enforcement is working with the FBI,” the Commander said with
sympathy.
“Can I be assigned to the investigation?” A couple of fragmented thoughts
formed into a semi-coherent plan in his head. “In any capacity?”
“Not at this stage. Our mission here is too important.”
“It will have to wait. I need a leave of absence effective immediately.” He
didn’t word it as a question. Even if he couldn’t work on bringing the bastards
who’d done this to justice, no way was he going to wait to hear his sister’s
fate from strangers. “Until she gets off the machines.”
“Impossible.”
“My sister is on a ventilator.” His anger bubbled
Chapter One
Colonel Cameron Murphy wasn’t afraid of dying. The thought of dying without
accomplishing his mission, however, really burned his ass.
“On my mark,” he whispered into his mouthpiece as he looked at his men, six
of the best Special Forces soldiers he’d ever known.
They nodded, one after the other, wound tight and ready for action.
He motioned to Martin and Bullseye to start spreading out to the right. The
small group was too close together, too easy a target if the enemy picked up on
their location. They were surrounded. The noose was tightening.
Two-hundred feet ahead. Blackhaw signaled to his left and pointed.
Cameron stared into the lush African jungle. Nothing but the odd leaf
bobbing, likely disturbed by some giant insect. The birds and the rest of the
wildlife had left or hid as soon as the gun battle had begun. But if there was
anything to see, Blackhaw would be the one to pick it up. His Cherokee blood
made him a hunter to be reckoned with.
There. The straight line of a rifle, a contrast to the curvy air roots
among which the enemy hid.
“Now!” Cameron tossed his grenade and charged forward, spraying the jungle
with bullets as he went.
“Tangos to the left!” Bullseye covered him from behind, keeping up.
More and more fire came at them from the terrorists who guarded the hidden
fields in the jungle — the source of drug money used to finance attacks around
the world. Stopping the money flow would cut off the legs of the terrorist
group — catching the leader would cut off its head. Cameron was determined to
accomplish his dual mission, even if his team was outnumbered twenty to one.
“Watch the back,” Blackhaw shouted over the incessant gunfire as he rushed
by.
Then they were through, broken out of the noose.
“Hold your fire,” Cameron spoke into his headset. The men melted into the
woods like shadows, running forward with the easy grace of panthers. Before they
could make plans for a final attack, they had to rendezvous with the rest of
their team. They’d gone off a few days ago in search of the jungle fortress the
terrorist leaders used for central command. “Anyone injured?”
Instead of an answer, his earpiece carried a more distant communication.
“Platoon Commander to Colonel Murphy. Return to base. Over.”
Had the man gone crazy? Cameron swore, but slowed. If whatever was going down
was more important than this, it had to be as serious as shrapnel in the eye.
“Team returning. Over.” He lifted his hand to signal to his men.
“Return requested for the Colonel only. Over.”
He stopped.
Something in the other man’s voice made a shiver run down his back in all
that jungle heat.
Chapter Two
“Over two hundred people are confirmed dead, so far,” the Platoon Commander
was saying and went on with details.
Cameron stared at his feet. His brain had stopped back at the beginning of
the briefing: Domestic terrorists blew up the city hall in Great Falls,
Montana.
Great Falls.
City Hall.
Vicky.
“I’m sorry, Colonel. We’ll keep you posted on all developments related to
your sister’s condition.”
“Who is investigating?” He looked up. It felt as if ice were spreading
through his chest, frosting the edges of the hole where his heart used to be.
“Local law enforcement is working with the FBI,” the Commander said with
sympathy.
“Can I be assigned to the investigation?” A couple of fragmented thoughts
formed into a semi-coherent plan in his head. “In any capacity?”
“Not at this stage. Our mission here is too important.”
“It will have to wait. I need a leave of absence effective immediately.” He
didn’t word it as a question. Even if he couldn’t work on bringing the bastards
who’d done this to justice, no way was he going to wait to hear his sister’s
fate from strangers. “Until she gets off the machines.”
“Impossible.”
“My sister is on a ventilator.” His anger bubbled
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