When Logan Kyle and his team of hardened Navy SEALs veterans are called upon to take down the leader of an extremist religious sect, they believe it is just business as usual. Little do they know that their lives and those of everybody else in the w...
The moon hung huge and heavy over the harsh Afghani mountain range, like the burning eye of some malevolent deity pondering the fate of man. It was strangely cold for this time of year, the chill birthing banks of fog that oozed from the coniferous woods stubbornly clinging to the steep mountain flanks and drifting down into the valley. The haze pooled around a tiny speck of civilization, well hidden from the world and preying eyes—Mangwar.
The village was modest by any description, little more than a shantytown built around a low concrete structure that dated back to the seventies and the time of Russian occupation. Only a few feeble lamplights managed to penetrate the fog that shrouded the tents and mudstone buildings. Apart from the occasional barking and howling of some wolves in the distance, the night was quiet and still.
Above all, spiraling across the firmament like a vulture over a dying beast, a shape soared through the star-speckled night. Twice as large as the creature that was its namesake, the RQ-12 Raven drone softly hummed, driven ever forward by its propeller, its mechanical eye studiously surveying everything below, faithfully transmitting data to its masters, who were making their way slowly down the mountainside.
Moving through the darkness between the trunks and underbrush, little more than shadows themselves, the group of eight soldiers proceeded slowly and steadily in a stretched out combat line.
There was no hurry in their movements, nor was their fear or unease showing in their blackened faces, only calm control. Every movement spoke of confidence, told the tale that these men were masters of their craft. Clad in the same kind of military fatigues, with the best weapons and equipment the US military had to offer, Seal Team Six was on the prowl.
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They soon reached a small hill, crowned by a cluster of crooked trees that overlooked the eastern side of the village. Hand signals were given and the men spread out to form a protective circle around two of their own. The barrels of six silenced rifles stretched out into the dark, providing 360° of coverage so that the two men in the middle could go about their business.
Logan knelt down, taking a small blanket from his backpack and spreading it over him and his superior, Commander Beck, who took care to not make any noise as he removed the drone field-console from his backpack. The device had the size of a large telephone book and as soon as it was switched on, light flared up below the blanket, casting the faces of the two men in shadows.
The commander was a small and stocky man, and it showed in his square features dominated by a pair of eyes as grey as the shale of the mountains. He was a man of few words—never used two where one would suffice. Logan smiled thinly as Beck grunted, doing his reputation proud again as he flicked through several vision modes of the drone console. The pictures switched from night vision to infrared and monochrome thermal, yet all were equally inconclusive.
The fog was too thick, effectively hiding what was happening inside the village.
"Don't like it," whispered Beck. "First the mountains prevent us from making radio contact and now this. No Intel from the Raven. Sawmen won't be able to see more than fifty paces in this fog—so no sniper support, either. Oh, and our night vision won't do us much good in this murk. Did I forget something?"
"Midnight has passed. It's 9/11. Historically speaking, luck is not on our side," Logan said with a thin smile.
Beck scowled at his Lieutenant, who indicated a shrug.
"Do you want to blow off the OP?"
Beck stared hard at the monitor, then shook his head. "No. We can't pass this up. Langley and the admiral will have our hides if we let al-Hazred slip through our fingers just because of some fog. This is a lucky break. We have to use it before the packet moves again."
"We're going all in then?"
Beck nodded. "Oh, and Lieutenant... Try not to shoot the package this time."
