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The lift of the helicopter was familiar to Buck, signaling that the bird was going to land. His muscles tightened as Joker’s voice came through the comms. “Get ready to infil.”
As soon as the chopper set down, Buck was off and moving toward the high hill overlooking the road. He was soon joined by Joker, the team, and the two Bravo operators.
“Good to have you aboard,” Joker said. “Professor and Shotgun, you’ll take up your positions on the opposite hill, Baltimore and Zorro on this side.” They had a nice vantage point to snipe the four terrorists riding in the cabs, one on either side of the female hostages.
Both trucks were filled with fighters, and it would be up to the Niger army to handle them.
“Timing will be everything,” Buck said, lying on his stomach, as they watched the two-and-a-half-ton trucks grind their way on the open, dusty road in the distance.
Joker lowered his binoculars and wiped the back of his hand across his mouth. Behind them, the sun was high in the sky, beating down and accounting for that one-hundred-and-twenty-degree heat.
As the convoy came closer, it was clear they were pushing the engines as a loud, steady rumbling filled the air. They knew they weren’t safe until they crossed the border.
“Buck, D-Day, Bear, and I will neutralize any threat to our hostages once the tangos in the cabs are down. Professor and Zorro will join us after they take their shots.”
Joker set the binoculars to his eyes. “Two guys in the lead cab.”
“Copy that,” Professor confirmed through the comms. “Two in the cab of the second vehicle.”
“Acquire targets,” Joker said.
Zorro said, “Target 1, green.”
“Target 2, green,” Baltimore said.
“Target 3, green,” Professor stated.
“Target 4, green,” Shotgun confirmed.
“Weapons release on my command,” Joker said, looking through the binoculars. As the trucks got closer to the optimal place for the military to move in, Joker said, “Hold! Hold! Hostage in play.”
Buck looked through his binoculars and saw the lead vehicle, with the forty-five-year-old Serena Lachey fighting with the passenger tango. It was clear he was assaulting her. The driver was yelling. Serena, with her hands bound, was pummeling her attacker. The driver grabbed the back of her head and slammed it against the dash, and she flopped back in the seat, her head lolling to the side. She was unconscious. Then the driver pulled a gun on the passenger, screaming some more. The passenger held up his hands.
Before either one of them could move another muscle, Joker said, “Execute.”
Buck watched as all four died simultaneously with silent, suppressed head shots. The trucks continued moving but started to slow. Buck stored his binoculars and rose, sprinting for the embankment with Joker and Zorro on his heels.
On the other side of the road, Professor, Bear, and D-Day were running full out for the second truck.
When Buck reached the cab, the truck was still rolling. He pulled open the door and dragged the dead driver out. He fell onto the dusty road. He reached in and grabbed hold of Serena’s arm and hauled her unconscious body across the blood-soaked seat. He turned, transferring her to the arms of Zorro, who transitioned her to his shoulder and took off for the hillside. Professor sprinted past with his arm around Caitlin. Her face was white, her eyes wide and terrified, but she maintained her speed.
With the hostages out of the danger zone, Buck started to retreat, but a fighter popped into the cab from the cloth-covered throughway. He pulled up his automatic and Buck didn’t have time to bring his M4 into position.
A shot shattered the windshield into a thousand pieces and took out the fighter.
“You’re welcome,” Baltimore’s voice came through the comm. Buck smiled and he gave the sniper a two-finger salute. The back of the truck broke into yelling chaos as the military converged. One guy leapt through, kicking Buck out of the cab.
Buck landed on his hip and shoulder, pain shooting through both joints.
As the tango exited the cab on the driver’s side, he dropped and dove underneath the truck. From his prone vantage point, Buck saw him scramble across the road on the other side and take off running.
Buck jumped up, rolled under the truck, and covered the distance between them, ignoring the pain shooting into his hip.
A shot caught the guy in the shoulder, and he fell, tumbling and rolling.
“No shot,” Baltimore said, as the guy disappeared around the bend of the hill.
The terrorist had barely made it to his feet when Buck caught him and brought him down hard, before they came to a halt.
