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1
The Outskirtsof an Abandoned Yoruba Village, Niger, Africa
Navy SEAL, Callen “Blitz” Berenger, scanned the village in front of his team, flat on his stomach, the sweltering heat registered as a green haze in his night vision goggles. They had been sent here off a tip from a local and some solid intel from the CIA that the group they were hunting,Almawquif Almuahad Lil’islamor AAL, was recruiting in this area. At the beginning, most of the members were Tuareg clansmen who had banded with their Libyan counterpart, Path of Enlightenment,Tariq Altanwir,or TA, but the ranks had swelled with many Nigerien members since the collapse of the Libyan state.
There had been numerous attacks led by Teboho Achebe, the anointed leader of AAL, assuming the crown of legrand croyant—the grand believer and his Russian counterpart, Anya Olenska, the daughter of Leonid Olenska, Russian oligarch and rumored to be the mastermind of the operation to murder United States Ambassador David Ogden, his wife Serena and their daughters. It was also discovered but not confirmed that Leonid was the ex-facto leader of a splinter group, Z Militia.
Achebe and his Russian counterparts were now the most wanted terrorists by the United States and the United Kingdom. Achebe and Olenska had killed six MI6 agents to get his daughter Ayo back, pissing off the Brits.
They had been running and gunning for seven days of continuous ops, but their taskmaster with the go-ahead from the ambassador, Katherine “Kat” Cross was amped for this mission, and they fed off that energy. Mission planning and prep had become like reflex—run the scenarios, recon the area, gear up, get in, and do the job necessary whether that was clear buildings or face the enemy head-on with no margin for error.
Ever since Teboho Achebe had escaped the custody of the Koutoukalé Prison and the US government, he’d been going strong across Niger. The United States still had an arrest warrant out for him and Anya. Leonid was another kettle of fish. Since there was still no proof of his involvement, they were holding back on charging him. The man had the wealth to disappear, and the US was playing their cards close to the vest before revealing their hand.
Their new ambassador, Isabelle Theriot, now engaged to Zephirin “Gator” LaBauve, his teammate, was spearheading the operations. There was still something interesting about her past that Gator was keeping to himself, but Blitz believed that was his prerogative. It didn’t have to do with team security as far as Blitz knew because Gator would never put the team at risk.
Embedded with Blitz’s team were Lieutenant Elias “Joker” Jackman, their CO, Milo “Professor” Prescott, Sam “Buck” Buckard, Andrew “D-Day” Nolan, Mateo “Zorro” Martinez, Dakota “Bear” Locklear, and their military working dog, a black-as-pitch Belgian Malinois by the name of Flint, MI6 operator Lester Webb, a former SAS badass special operator, and the FBI Fly Team, agents Huxley, Zimmerman, Nguyn, Pierce, and the very determined and skilled Bree West.
His attention had to be focused on the mission at hand. Looking at Bree kitted out for the operation got under his skin in many ways.
She was a distraction for multiple reasons besides her professional attitude and honed observation skills. He glanced over at her focused expression, those never-miss-a-thing amber eyes in her oval face, those high elegant cheekbones, and that shredded body, thinking the same thing he’d thought when he’d first seen her a few weeks ago…fucking trouble. The kind of dick and mind shit he didn’t need and continually refused to act on, no matter how strong the impulses were. He knew the difference, because only a few months ago, he’d been involved with Geneve Bonnet, CEO of H20mni, attendant at the G5 Sahel Conference. Geneve played on his body, but she never troubled his mind. She was fun to be with and a good fuck, but nothing more.
Bree was a totally different story.
To top it off, the success of this mission leaned heavily on his team. None of the embedded agents, except Webb, had ever been in combat. Well, except for the ambush of Achebe, an isolated incident. This was no time to be preoccupied. Bree was a straight-up distraction both in the way she affected him on a personal level and in how his protective instincts were jamming him up all over the place.
If Blitz had his way, she wouldn’t be here. None of the agents would. It was clear she knew how to use the M4 and her sidearm. She was a trained agent with assault experience, but combat was completely different. Blitz and his team had trained for every conceivable combat scenario and learned to adjust to real-world situations that no FBI instructor could ever have imagined. These agents were outside a wire they didn’t know how to navigate and some of them might not even be aware they were in no-man’s land.
She was a solid agent and so was her Fly Team. He had to put his faith in their performance thus far, but he couldn’t help worrying about how he would keep her safe.
Intel said the village in the distance was harboring AAL members, and Achebo and Olenska had been sighted near here. The town had been abandoned a while ago with the constant expansion of the desert and the violence this far out as AAL expanded its territory. AAL feared the SEALs from the embassy after several defeats in the past. The terrorist group was leaving him and his team alone, but Blitz suspected that was going to be temporary. Even with the general populace angered by AAL’s brutality, Achebe and Anya remained elusive, but there was chatter that she held Bree responsible for her brother Uri’s death and there was going to be retribution. Anya would have to go through him and the whole team to get to Bree.
There was a sense of cautious security among the locals as he and his team executed op after op. The president was supportive of the efforts to rid the country of AAL. With the upcoming conference, it was imperative they eliminate the threat of this two-headed snake.
They were to clear the town and kill or capture Achebe and Olenska. The emphasis had been on capture to bring them back to the embassy for interrogation and process them back to the States for trial. The State Department wanted Anya Olenska alive to flip on her father, but Blitz was sure that woman would die before she would ever give the hated Americans anything to burn her dad.
Fuck, it’s hot, Blitz thought. The temperature was always pretty elevated, around 120 degrees during the day, but it had jumped about ten degrees a few days before and just stayed there. Dead of night, and he was dripping wet. This sweat bath added to days of sweat and left them all rank. If they didn’t get to shower and rest soon, they wouldn’t be able to stand each other.
Buck punctuated his feelings exactly, making them all chuckle with his cowboy wisdom. “It’s hotter than making whoopee in woolens.”
“Looks too quiet, LT,” Professor said.
“Everyone should still be sleeping,” Gator responded.
“There are guards,” Bear said, the glow from his infrared readout on his wrist barely registered. He relayed how many Teams 1 and 4 would encounter.
“We split up as planned,” Joker said. “We’ll break into four groups, Team 1 on me. We’re going east. Team 2 will take the southern approach. Team 3 west and Team 4 north. If we get squirters, we can head them off. Keep it as quiet as possible.”
The town was laid out in one long line of homes from east to west made out of heat-absorbing rust-red adobe that kept the interiors cool, and with perimeter walls and courtyards. But all Blitz saw strategically were places to hide and ambush them.
Team 1 consisted of Joker, D-Day, and Huxley, Team 2 Blitz, West, and Webb, Team 3 Zorro, Nguyn, and Pierce, and Team 4 Buck, Zimmerman, Bear, and Flint. Gator and Professor would find rooftop access, giving them the high ground and overwatch.
Blitz’s objective was smack dab in the middle of the village and head on from their current position. There was an open area to a perimeter fence they would have to climb over.
At Joker’s “Execute,” they all started moving forward, the dust from the desert coating his exposed skin. Team 1 and Team 3 went left toward the separate ends of the town. Team 3 would have to circle around to come in from the north and Team 4 went right.
Blitz stayed his course, leading Bree and Webb toward the fence. The night was pitch-black, but Blitz had no problem seeing through his night vision goggles, even with the heat fogging them up, the ground and village a grainy green. He looked to his right and left, as the Advanced Target Pointer on their guns danced around on the horizon. He knew exactly where his teammates were.
They moved slowly and stealthily, applying the same maxim they would use while clearing buildings: slow is smooth and smooth is fast.
