13

Downtown Sanliurfa

Sanliurfa Province, Turkey

Local Time 0627 Hours

When the hostess returned, she brought with her two servers carrying a veritable feast. Despite his reluctance, Remington dug in. But only a few moments later, his walkie-talkie buzzed.

Felix had turned his attention back to the computer and was typing in commands.

Remington dug his ear-throat headset from a pocket and strapped it on. He jammed the cord into the device and listened to the beep that signaled activation. “Remington,” the captain barked.

“Sir, I thought maybe you’d want to know that Harran is under attack by the Syrian military.”

Anger and dread warred for supremacy inside Remington. He’d known the attack was coming, but he hadn’t wanted to deal with it so early. The troops weren’t ready, and he didn’t have a fallback position set up.

“How do you know that?”

“We’re fielding reports from there. Lieutenant Swindoll says it’s a massive incursion.”

“We missed a troop movement that large? Why didn’t the satellite surveillance warn us about the troop movement?”

“The system has been on the blink all night, sir. We kept you updated.”

The reports were on Remington’s desk. The satellite system had been performing well. Nicolae Carpathia had granted Remington access to the satellites shortly after the disappearances, during the first wave of Syrian attacks.

“Do we have satellite surveillance over that area now?”

“No, sir. We believe our ground relays in the area are being jammed.”

Remington’s mind flew. It was possible that the Syrians had gotten troops into the city to jam the ground stations. It was just as possible the local and temporary systems were being tasked beyond their capabilities.

Felix focused on the computer. His long-fingered hands flew across the keyboard. “Harran?”

For an instant, Remington held back an answer. He didn’t like spreading military intelligence around, nor did he care for anyone else usurping control. But in the end, he needed to see whatever intel was available. “Yes.” The admission was grudging at best.

“I can get you access.” Felix’s confident tone further irritated the captain.

“How?”

Felix smiled. “Danielle Vinchenzo is part of OneWorld NewsNet. We’re everywhere.”

Remington was only slightly surprised that Felix acknowledged the ties to the international news agency. It was no secret that Nicolae Carpathia owned OneWorld Communications. The Romanian president owned or managed several international companies and corporations. But for a man like Felix, who talked of murder as a good thing, to be affiliated with the broadcasting corporation in any way seemed wrong.

The LCD screen cleared immediately. The focus was tight on Danielle Vinchenzo. The reporter was no longer calm, cool, and collected. Hunkered down behind a stone building, she tried valiantly to report the news.

“-repeat, Mark. The 75th Rangers here in Harran have just come under attack by what is believed to be Syrian forces.” Danielle ducked as a nearby explosion threw debris over her.

The camera shot wavered and spun drunkenly. The camera operator cursed and the angle changed as he obviously dropped into what he believed was a better defensive posture.

“Sir?” The prompt came from the outpost officer. “Captain Remington?”

“I’m here.” Remington tried to ease his grip on the walkie-talkie. “Get Harrison and Macauley into my ready room. Tell them I’ll be there in ten.”

“Yes, sir.”

“And keep me updated.”

“Yes, sir.”

Remington put the radio on standby.

“Your men have lost satellite feeds?” Felix took a sat-phone from inside his jacket. The device was so thin that it hadn’t broken the line of the jacket in any way.

“My support staff believes the local relays are being jammed.”

Felix smiled. “Well then, we’ll have to cut out the local relays, won’t we?” He spoke into the phone fluently in a language that wasn’t English. It sounded guttural and dark, and Remington could only assume it was Romanian. A moment later, Felix folded the phone and put it away. “You’ll have a work-around in place within minutes. It should provide you with anything you need.”

Remington wasn’t happy. Minutes cost soldiers their lives.

Looking unhappy himself, Felix shrugged. “It’s the best I can do, Captain.”

Remington stood and took his hat from the table. “I’ve got to go.”

Felix nodded. “I understand. I’m sorry you didn’t get to finish your breakfast.” He took a roll and buttered it, showing no concern for the violent tableau taking place on his computer.

The camera panned over streets where Rangers took cover. A tank round slammed into a Hummer and threw it end over end till it crashed through a storefront window.

“Are you getting this?” Danielle asked.

“Yeah, yeah,” the cameraman muttered angrily. “I’m filming.”

“Stay with it.”

“I am. I am. ”

The camera swung around and focused on the Ulu Cami mosque. The Ranger fire team assigned there was trying to call in coordinates for army artillery units. In the next moment, a Syrian jet streaked out of the sky and opened fire. Cannon rounds chopped into the ancient structure, knocking stone and mortar away. A Ranger tumbled over the edge of the mosque’s tower, but before he could strike the ground, the jet fired two rockets that exploded against the building. The mosque fell to pieces, tumbling into a pile of rubble.

Remington started for the door.

“Good luck, Captain.” Felix waved, then switched his attention back to the computer.

Local Time 0631 Hours

Remington clambered into his Hummer, started the engine, and backed out of the parking area. Then he stopped. Felix’s midnight blue Mercedes was parked in front of him.

Uncertainty wove a tangled web inside the captain. He was jealous of Goose, and he recognized the potential for a split pull in the command because the first sergeant was so popular, but Goose was his to deal with. No one else had that right.

And no one else is going to tell me what to do or how to do it.

The fact that the satellites had been jammed without anyone’s knowledge bothered him too. The feeds came through Carpathia’s corporations. Remington didn’t know how people there could miss the fact that they were being jammed. The fail-out and recovery had gone on all night, usually lasting for only minutes at a time.

Then Felix had called and demanded a meeting this morning. Another attempt to tell Remington how to do his business.

Snarling an oath, Remington turned the Hummer’s wheel a little and released the clutch. The Hummer surged forward, and the reinforced bumper slid across the Mercedes’s right rear quarter panel. The luxury car’s fender caved instantly, and the security system alarm blared.

Remington experienced momentary satisfaction with the destruction when he imagined Felix’s discomfiture, but that quickly faded. Several important resources were at risk in Harran. He had to find a way to save what he could.

With any luck, Goose would be buried in that cellar Lieutenant Swindoll had assigned him.

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