Meant to Be (22 page)

“
I have a
pretty good idea of
what
she is,” Angela said when he did not respond.
“That’s enough to get me started.”

Rad blinked his eyes in disbelief. “So
you would do a story based on your assumptions, not facts, possibly
jeopardizing the lives of people serving their country?”

She shrugged. “Sure. I’m a
journalist.”

“
So I can either protect
the life of one of my fellow Americans by giving you the
introduction, or decline and possibly ruin her career at best… or
conceivably, get her killed.”

“
You needn’t put it so
bluntly,” Angela said curtly. “I’m only asking you to make an
introduction for heaven’s sake, not enter a torture
chamber.”

Rad took a moment to contemplate the
options and the risk. She could be lying about doing a story based
on mere speculation—or she could be just malicious enough to be
telling the truth. Was it worth the chance? He found it distasteful
to introduce someone he loathed and did not trust to someone he
respected, but the alternative could mean that an embedded
American’s identity would be revealed. Just as significant, and
possibly more dangerous, was that Pakistan and the entire
international community could be alerted that something was about
to happen. There were so many ways this thing could unravel. Having
Angela Powers in country just quadrupled all of them.

On the other hand, there was no one in
the world he trusted to handle the likes of Angela Powers more than
McDunna. He would not fall for her seduction tricks or her power
threats. In fact, he would be insulted by both.

Rad took a deep breath and studied
her. She wanted a story, and it appeared she was willing to do
anything to get it. He was dealing with a woman who was
calculating, cunning, and controlling—and just spiteful and
vindictive enough to get someone killed.

“
You know damn well I’m
not going to jeopardize the life of a fellow American.”

“
Of course I do.” She
turned to pick up her leather tote bag, then looked over her
shoulder and winked. “Let’s go.”

Chapter 19

After finding McDunna and
reluctantly making the introduction, Rad returned to the empty
briefing room and sat down. He could see the men were gathered
around the picnic table outside again and assumed they were
discussing the upcoming mission. He didn’t want to join them just
yet. He knew there would be questions from Wynn, and he wasn’t
ready to answer them. Hell, he didn’t even know if he had the
answers.

Sitting down on the couch, with his
head leaned back and his eyes closed, he thought about his
conversation with Angie. Had he said too much? Acted too concerned?
Had he and Lauren been too sociable out on the landing zone? Or was
Angela just grasping for straws?

He groaned and sat up straight. Here
he was worrying about Angie’s next move when his thoughts should be
on Lauren. Had she landed yet? Even though McDunna had made light
of her getting out of Pakistan to do the briefing, he knew she had
a long ordeal to get back in. She would probably be dropped miles
away from the village where she lived and would have to trek over
dangerous terrain to either reach a pre-arranged ride or wait for
cover of darkness and hike in herself. He knew she had the
training, the background, and the smarts to do it—but it was still
risky, and he hated the thought she would put herself in that type
of danger. He hated even more that he had no way to contact her
now, and no timetable as to when she would contact him.

Rad raised his hands to his head and
rubbed his temples. Like Lauren said, he had to keep his focus on
the mission. That’s what she wanted him to do. That was his job. He
leaned back again and closed his eyes. The voices outside the
window created a soothing hum that lulled him into a half
sleep.

“
You okay,
man?”

Rad looked up to see Wynn standing in
the doorway. “Yeah. I’m great.”

Wynn closed the door behind him and
stared at Rad a moment. “Nothing personal, but you don’t look like
it.”

Rad shrugged. He didn’t even know
where to begin.

“
So I take it you just
found out with the rest of us.” Wynn sat down beside Rad. “That’s
some tough shit to handle, dude. Especially at a time like
this.”

“
I’ll get over it.” Rad
leaned forward with his elbows on his knees. “Anyone else say
anything?”

Wynn nodded. “They figured it out. Be
impossible not to.”

“
Okay.” Rad stood. “I’ll
come clean at the next meeting. I don’t want them to think I’m
hiding anything.”

To synchronize their preparations for
war, he had called team meetings where he handed out to-do lists
like taking inventory, requesting gear, and prepping weapons and
radios.

“
You sure you’re good to
go? To lead this thing?”

Rad looked over him. “Why wouldn’t I
be? Same shit, different day.”

“’
Cause you got a no-count
love affair going on brother, that’s why.”

Although he was one of the most
sensitive and emotional men Rad had ever met, Wynn was also a
sparkplug for jokes and pranks. “I’m almost afraid to ask.” Rad
gazed at him inquisitively. “What in the hell is a no-count love
affair?”

Wynn leaned back and crossed his arms.
“There ain’t no countin’ what you’ll do for it.”

Rad rolled his eyes. “Don’t worry. I
got my head in the game, man. Not on her.”

And I’ve never wanted
anything more than to get this guy.
Rad
gave his friend a smile and squeezed his shoulder. He was excited
about this mission and felt honored to lead it. The man they were
targeting had killed Americans and continued to organize fighters
to ambush U.S. troops.

He wanted nothing more than to show
the terrorists they had underestimated their enemy—in fact, picked
a fight with the wrong one. This group of men had the skill and the
courage to prove just that. They feared no one, and held back
nothing, because they knew their enemy only understood one
thing—brute force.

Rad glanced out the window at the
sound of voices and watched a cluster of men hurry toward a vehicle
parked outside. “Mail’s here.”

Wynn jumped off the couch.
“Awesome!”

Mail was as close to a holiday as you
could get on a military base. Rad walked out and leaned his
shoulder against the doorway as the men ran around waving
envelopes, acting like kids at Christmas.

“
Radcliff,
Michael.”

“
Here you go, boss.” Pops
took the stack of three letters and walked it over to
Rad.

“
Looks like you’re a
pretty popular guy.”

Rad joined the other men, sitting on
the ground with his back propped against the building. The first
one he opened was from his mother in Texas. It was long and
detailed and made him smile. She talked about everything from the
weather to family matters, relatives, and general news about home.
The next one, from his sister, was shorter, but it was filled with
news from the states and an update on how Tara was doing. He hadn’t
heard from her in more than two weeks and was relieved to finally
get word.

When he got to the last piece of mail,
Rad paused and turned it over. He didn’t recognize the handwriting,
which was scrawled as if it had been written during a roller
coaster ride. There was no address, just his name printed on a
dirty, crinkled piece of paper that looked like it had been dug out
of the trash.

Unfolding the letter slowly, he
swallowed hard when he read the words:

Hey, Dude — Don’t worry
about me. Just kick some ass. I got it on this side. –
L.C.

“
You okay?” Pops sat down
beside him.

Rad folded the piece of paper back up
and stuck it in his pocket. “Yeah, I’m fine.”

“
Not bad news from home, I
hope.”

“
No.” Rad forced a smile.
“It’s all good.” He stared into the horizon a moment as he
visualized Lauren jotting down those words while heading back to
Pakistan in the chopper. No wonder the writing was barely legible.
She must have given the note to the pilot, who passed it on to
someone else to put with the mail. They were words of comfort to
him, yet written in such a way as to be inconspicuous if read by
someone else.

“
Looks like everyone’s
about done.” Pops stood. “Ready to get this thing rolling? You’re
the lead guy, you know.”

Rad nodded, although all he wanted to
do was go back to his bunk and re-read the note. “Yeah, let’s go,”
he said. “I got this.”

Chapter 20

Until they were given a
“go,” Rad and his team had to continue to plan and prepare and
think about the mission. The men fine-tuned things they didn’t
like, but overall, they saw the true tactical genius behind
it.

The first thing they examined was the
infil. Tactics kept changing as the war had changed, and special
operations were constantly being refined. The preference was to
find a landing zone nearby and hike quietly to their target, taking
the terrorists by surprise. In this particular situation, none of
the routes worked. The location of the house and the mountainous
terrain would require the team to walk up the streets, right
through the center of town. The risk of getting compromised and the
chance Ahmed would be alerted to the danger were too great with
that avenue of approach. Flying in and roping down was the lesser
of two evils. It would be loud, but it would be fast.

In addition to the assault teams
clearing the buildings inside the compound, another team would rope
in to act as external security. Two assaulters and a combat assault
dog would patrol the perimeter to track down squirters—anyone who
tried to escape. Two others, along with an interpreter, would deal
with onlookers or local police.

Besides its location in a sovereign
country and the fact that it was a Tier One target, there was
nothing unique or difficult about the operation itself. In fact it
probably wouldn’t be nearly as complicated or dangerous as the last
mission this team had completed deep in the mountains of
Afghanistan…

For that one, three assault teams had
hiked in after making their chosen point of entry by a landing zone
a few clicks away. Following the point man, they’d moved in
staggered formation down a narrow, rutted dirt road, following the
contour of the mountain. They carried an arsenal of weapons—from
pistols to machine guns—because once they hit the ground, there was
a chance they’d need every extra bullet and grenade they could
carry to get back out.

Their target was three separate
houses, located pretty much side-by-side, and owned by brothers who
were all arms dealers and violent criminals. The fact the houses
were clustered together was helpful, but the fact they were located
in the middle of an al-Qaida hotbed was not. Every military age
man—or MAM—was considered an enemy combatant in this part of the
world.

After hiking over dangerous mountain
terrain, they passed into the town and advanced through a maze of
narrow alleyways. Threading their way between houses, they needed
no verbal communication to complete this well-orchestrated maneuver
they had all done hundreds of times. Stepping over trash and
avoiding sewer pits were the most difficult parts of the operation
as they moved noiselessly in the dark toward their
target.

When they neared the houses, everyone
moved to their positions and checked in. “Alpha is set,” came over
the radio.

“
Bravo is set.”

“
Charlie is
set.”

Rad’s team moved forward wordlessly,
creeping through the shadows to get a good vantage point of the
building they would assault.

Rad heard Reese’s voice come over the
radio. “Two sleepers on the front porch.”

Acknowledging the call, Rad
continued moving. When he was about thirty feet away, one of the
men on the porch sat up, stared straight at him, and picked up his
gun. Rad froze but was not that concerned. As dark as it was, there
was no way the target could actually
see
anything without night vision
goggles like Rad was wearing. But when the man’s finger moved to
the trigger, Rad tapped him with a suppressed shot no louder than a
staple gun.

Although the shot was practically
noiseless, the man falling back onto the porch was not. The soldier
who had been sleeping beside him sat up and sprayed the area with
his AK. He only got off a short burst before he fell onto the porch
as well. A third man started out the door and was dropped by Reese
before he even made it across the threshold.

“
Probably woke up the
neighbors,” Rad said into the mic. “Let’s move.”

Ten seconds into the attack and
already three were dead. The smell of gunpowder filled the air, and
adrenalin pulsed through every warrior. By this time the enemy was
starting to wake up and mobilize. Rad heard ineffectual AK fire
coming from a smaller building to his right and knew the
precariousness of the situation was escalating by the
minute.

Making his way past the three dead men
on the porch, Rad heard a blast just as the window frame near his
head splintered from a shot to his right. Not even flinching, he
shouldered his rifle, turned in the direction of the shot, and
watched one of his men eliminate the problem.