Clear by Fire (31 page)

“Boz, give me a sit rep?” he whispered.

“I’ve got one military-age male. He doesn’t appear to be wearing a uniform.”

“Roger that. Stand by for my count.” Barnes motioned for Villa to follow him as he slid back down the hill. Reaching flat ground, he used the dead space between the hill and the shack to mask his approach. The sound of laughter emanated from inside the small building, and he was positive that they hadn’t been compromised.

It was almost too easy.

He signaled to Villa that he was going to flank the building. Villa responded that he would hold on the east wall and breach on his signal. The silent conversation took only a second due to the countless missions they had run together. Keeping low, Barnes moved to the rear of the shack and out of sight.

A telephone line fed into the shack from a pole to his left, and he assumed they had access to a phone and maybe an alarm. He’d have liked to cut the phone line but didn’t have the time. Carefully, he peeked into the window and got a partial layout of the room. Barnes saw four rebels inside, sitting around a table they had made from ammo boxes and an old pallet. The concrete floor had seen better days and was covered in dust and trash.

He could tell from their mismatched clothing that the men were definitely not Syrian regulars.

“Villa, we have four crows that I can see. Wait until I engage before you breach.”

“Roger.”

“Boz, give me a ten count on my mark. Ready, mark.” Barnes began counting in his head, and when he reached five he stood up and moved across the window. One of the men inside caught the
movement and got to his feet. He looked to be in his midtwenties, and as he turned his head back to the table, Barnes slipped his finger into the trigger guard and flipped off the safety with his thumb.

The M68 optic had an infrared setting, which allowed him to aim while wearing NODs. However, the light coming from inside the shack washed out the aiming dot and flared his night vision. Due to the offset between the barrel and the optic, Barnes had to center his point of aim above the rebel’s forehead, so the round would impact where he wanted.

When he reached ten, he pulled the last bit of slack out of the trigger and sent a round through the man’s frontal lobe. The colonel was already on his next target before the round blew the man’s brains out the back of his skull. Working from left to right so he wasn’t in danger of hitting Villa, he settled his dot on the next target and fired. The bullet impacted as the door crashed open and Villa engaged the other two men from the doorway.

Barnes watched his soldier step into the room, arcing his rifle toward the window as he moved. Villa’s muzzle began sweeping down at an angle, and the colonel moved around to the front side of the building in case he fired. As soon as he cleared the corner, he heard two more shots from inside. Pushing through the open door, he stepped in behind Villa, who was holding on a man sitting on the floor.

Villa had fired two rounds low into the sitting man’s abdomen, to avoid hitting his boss as he moved. Keeping the rounds at a downward trajectory avoided a possible friendly-fire incident. As soon as Barnes came through the door, he raised his rifle and fired a shot to the dying man’s head.

“Nice shooting, I didn’t see that guy.”

“No problem, boss, I didn’t want to splash you.”

Barnes slapped his soldier on the shoulder and keyed his radio. “Boz, we are secured. We have five crows down.”

“Roger, Anvil 6. My guy is down and we have no movement.”

“Jones, are we good?”

“Roger that. We didn’t even hear the shots, but it sounds like you owe someone a beer.”

“As soon as I receive your allotment I will be sure to pay up.”

“Hey, boss, sounds good to me.”

“Harden, you can bring the van up.”

Barnes moved Villa out to set up a blocking position in the east, and he headed across the road to block the northern approach. He found a spot that offered cover and a good vantage point, and he took a knee.

Jones came over the radio. “Sir, I have movement coming your way. It looks like twelve military-aged men and they are all armed.”

“Villa, do you have eyes on them?”

“Yes, sir, they’re about two hundred meters away. It looks like they came out of a ditch or something.”

“Harden, we have company. I need you to black out your lights and conduct linkup.”

“Anvil 7 moving.”

Barnes left his position but stayed on the far side of the road. Moving in a crouch, he dropped into the low ground and began hand railing the road. He couldn’t see the enemy, but he needed to flank them.

“Boss, you want me to roll ’em up?”

“Stand by. Harden, what’s your location?”

“We are back on the road about five hundred meters out.”

Barnes clawed his way up the steep embankment to make sure he had moved far enough past the rebels before he clicked his radio. “Villa, it’s on you.”

Villa waited until they were within fifteen yards of his position so that Boz would be able to cover him if he had to break contact. He had no idea where the colonel was but was sure that he was lurking somewhere. The sound of the van’s engine was faint but growing as it sped up the road.

He wanted to let them get closer, but they would hear the van soon and he didn’t want to spook them. The first shot broke clean and impacted center mass on the lead rebel. The second round followed a microsecond behind the first and caught the man in the throat as he stumbled forward. Rolling his shoulder into the stock, Villa applied positive pressure to the butt plate for better recoil management.

Villa snapped off two more shots and waited a split second for the optic to settle. The colonel popped up and he saw him prone out on the road and begin engaging targets. Barnes fired so fast that the suppressed rifle sounded like it was on full auto as he tore into the ranks.

Villa deliberately aimed low as he fired, which allowed him to stay on target despite the muzzle rise. Movies depicted operators only shooting at the head, but Villa liked shooting at the pelvis. It was a great target because there were a lot of good organs and veins in the area, and guys tended to bleed out faster if hit low. It also provided a natural transition from one target to the next because it accounted for the increased muzzle rise created by the 7.62 round.

Barnes wished he had a frag, but since he didn’t he clicked his hand mike and said, “Moving.” He came up to a crouch, moved about five meters closer to the rebels, and fired off a burst before he ducked back off the road.

Boz snapped two shots from the hill, but he was close to the effective range of the rifle and the rounds landed short and ricocheted off the ground. “Keep them down. I’m moving,” he said across the radio.

Villa opened up with a burst as the rebels finally reacted to the ambush and began returning fire. Without night vision they couldn’t see who was shooting at them, so they just started spraying lead everywhere.

Barnes had wanted to avoid a firefight because he didn’t know who else was in the area. He saw the van fly through the checkpoint and pull off near the tower. Scottie jumped out of the driver’s seat with his long gun and sprinted toward the metal steps of the tower.
Harden had his rifle out but wasn’t sure where his team was, so he didn’t engage.

“Boss, the natives are getting restless and we have guys wearing Hezbollah yellow moving out into the street. I suggest that you start wrapping it up.”

“Roger that.” Barnes dropped his magazine and slipped a fresh one from his kit and into the mag well. Racking the bolt, he began crawling forward along the low side of the road. One of the rebels popped his head up and Scottie fired from the tower. The rebel’s head pitched violently backward before he slammed into the ground.

Boz’s voice came over the radio. “I’m coming up on your right, V.” Scottie fired again and the colonel heard the round’s dull thump as it hit flesh.

“Anvil 6, stay low, we’re going to move on these fuckers.” Villa fired a four-second burst into the rebels’ position, and Boz ran a few feet past him before diving to the ground. He began firing almost immediately to keep their heads down as Villa jumped up and bounded around him.

Once he was set, he ripped off another burst, allowing Boz to move up. They were so close now that he stayed in a crouch and fired as he moved up. The entire ambush had lasted three minutes and all the rebels were down.

“You two clear through. Harden, you and Scottie bring the van up.” Barnes hopped to his feet and doubled back to retrieve his magazine. “Jones, I assume we can’t come through your way.”

The van pulled up as Villa and Boz were checking the bodies. He watched Boz fire a round into a rebel’s face before continuing.

“I wouldn’t risk it. There’s a company-sized element loading up into a couple of technicals and heading your way.”

“That’s a good copy. When you have a chance, go ahead and move out. We are going to find a way around.”

“Roger that.”

Barnes waited for Boz and Villa to get into the van before he
jumped in. He did a quick head count before telling Scottie to move out. Harden already had a route planned and told Scottie to get off the road and drive south. They took it slow as they navigated the terrain, but once it flattened out he was able to pick up the pace. The dust made it hard to see even with night vision, but Scottie was a pro at driving in shitty conditions.

“Anvil 6, we are clear and heading to objective one,” Jones finally reported.

“We will see you there.”

It took them an hour to skirt the settlements and get back on the main road. Harden navigated while the men topped off their magazines and conducted a brief after-action review.

“Villa, I messed up not picking up that extra guy in the house. I didn’t have the angle I thought I did,” Barnes began.

“No worries, boss. I should have picked up that ditch and I should have had a better position off the road. You saved my ass by flanking those shit bags.”

“Hoyt and Jones should have picked that up on the way in and reported it,” Harden said from the front.

“I think I did pretty badass saving everyone. I wish these AKs didn’t suck so I could have kept the high ground,” Boz said.

“Boz, don’t you need to brush your teeth or something?” Scottie called from the front seat.

“You just keep driving and maybe one day when you grow up, you can go on missions with the big boys.”

Barnes waited until the laughter died down before he spoke.

“I want you all to focus on the days ahead. All of our sacrifices have brought us here and our actions will finally turn the tide. While others have given up on the cause, you men have answered the call, and for that I am eternally proud. If I must die to change the world, I will at least take my enemies to hell with me.”

The air was electric as he paused to look at his men. They knew what was at stake and were ready for whatever lay ahead.

Barnes let the silence speak for itself. The colonel’s placid exterior hid the caustic hubris that had been driving him for the past six years. He was good at masking his intent, but the fact remained that his pride demanded the blood sacrifice that his team was about to pour out on the world. All the lofty talk about duty and honor clouded the issue and took the spotlight off the simple fact that Barnes would kill as many people as it took to break the back of radical Islam. It was his belief that it was America’s role to pacify the region, and he was more than willing to go from country to country to achieve his goal.

Harden told the colonel that they were coming up on the outskirts of Damascus and would be arriving at the safe house that Dekker had purchased for them a few days earlier. The team was looking forward to a few hours of downtime before the final push. As they descended from the hills, they could see the lights of the ancient city sprawling out before them.

Scottie had stowed his night vision and was back to using the headlights as he merged into the light traffic. He was glad that the house wasn’t in the heart of the city, because Syrian drivers were terrible. When they were ten minutes out, Harden was able to get Jones on the radio.

Jones told him that they had a green light to come to the house, and Harden began directing the driver through the maze of streets. The house was located in a residential area that was close enough to the target area without being right in the middle of the bustling city.

Barnes felt the tingle of anticipation as he drew closer to his destiny. Tomorrow a new war would begin, and there was no one that he would have to answer to.

B
agram had changed since Mason was last there. The airfield had doubled in size, but it was still eerily familiar. It made him anxious to be back in Afghanistan, and a sense of fear washed over him as he shouldered his assault pack and set out to find his prey.

He pointed out the Joint Special Operations headquarters, which looked exactly the same as it had the last time Mason had seen it. It was a small building surrounded by a concrete wall, and the sight of it made him feel very exposed as he unconsciously felt for the pistol on his waist.

The compound’s wall was made from Jersey barriers that had been stacked three rows high. The barriers looked exactly like the ones you would find at a construction zone or on the freeway. The wall was about ten feet tall and topped with razor wire. The only other security that he could pick out, besides the guard, was a camera mounted on a wooden pole near the entrance.

A guard sat out front, in a green plastic chair, enjoying a cigarette while basking in the sun. His rifle was leaned against the concrete wall to his left, but he didn’t seem too worried about anyone bothering it.

“Are you sure that’s it?” Zeus asked, looking for the additional security that he assumed he was missing.

“Yeah, that’s it.”

Zeus shrugged and told Mason to stay where he was. The American opened his mouth in protest, but his friend was already walking casually toward the guard, who seemed to be more interested in blowing smoke rings than doing his job. He was able to get within five yards before the guard lazily got to his feet. Zeus showed him his identification card and the two men began talking.