Read Online A Cold Day In Mosul by Isaac Hooke - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Isaac Hooke
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West encourages us to fight and rise up against the illegal Caliphate, and yet it refuses to grant the supplies, training, and airstrikes we need! And don't even get me started on the useless Iraqi army. We have waited for them to arrive for months. Months!"
"You're forgetting the goals of this operation," Doug said. "I don't give a rat's ass about the liberation of Mosul. I really don't. It would be nice, sure, but in the overall scheme of things it really is an internal Iraqi matter. All I care about is getting my operative back. I can give you supplies, and arms, but no airstrikes. Can I rely on you for help, or not?"
Othunan opened and closed his fists for several seconds, apparently fuming inside. But finally he seemed to relax. "Yes, I can help. But if I am to work for the American government, I will require a monthly fee."
Doug compressed his lips. "I think I can arrange something."
"I want three hundred thousand US dollars. Per month."
Doug stared at Othunan for several seconds.
"This is bullshit," Doug abruptly announced in English, then made a beeline for the warehouse exit. "Let's go, Emad. We've made a mistake."
Othunan stared wide-eyed at Doug's back.
Ethan didn't move. He regarded the resistance leader thoughtfully. He'd dealt with men like Othunan before. He was simply another war opportunist looking to cash in on the chaos and uncertainty brought about by the occupation; he had no intention of making any real difference. Sure, he'd performed a few attacks against the Islamic State, random strikes meant to draw Western attention and funding. Or maybe he just wanted to grandstand. Either way, his endgame was likely some position of power in post-Islamic State Iraq.
"Now you deal with me," Ethan told the resistance leader.
"I do not speak with underlings." Othunan started to turn away.
"Don't you move!" Ethan said angrily.
Othunan froze.
"I'm not an underling." Ethan glanced over his shoulder. He knew that William had been silently shadowing them, moving from shelf to shelf as well as he was able, because the resistance fighters assigned to watch him had moved, too. So he raised his voice, and said, "Put Othunan in your sights."
The red dot returned to Othunan's chest. Ethan raised his A4, adding the threat of his own weapon to the mix.
The two escorting resistance fighters immediately lifted their AKs; one aimed at Ethan, the other William. Ethan didn't flinch. Other men emerged from the shadows and clumsily repositioned themselves, placing one or the other operative within their sight lines.
Ethan smiled patiently.
"Are you all in position?" Ethan asked the resistance fighters. No one answered. "Good." He returned his attention to their leader. "How much is your life worth to you, Othunan? Ten thousand US dollars? Twenty thousand? Three hundred thousand, perchance?"
Othunan regarded him with a glower. "Three hundred thousand, at least."
Ethan tapped his chin. "Three hundred thousand US dollars. Seems reasonable. Tell you what I'll do. You agree to help us for one month, just one whole month, and I give you your life. Seems a fair exchange."
"If you shoot me," Othunan said. "My men will mow you down an instant later."
"They can certainly try," Ethan said menacingly.
"You won't shoot me," Othunan persisted. "You need my help."
"Do we really?" Ethan said. "We would like your help, but that's way different than needing your help. Trust me, we're very capable of finding and springing her on our own if we have to."
That was somewhat of a bluff, as Ethan knew it would take a lot less time to find her with a hundred men watching the comings and goings of the Islamic State as opposed to three. Plus, the compound where Sam was held would likely be well defended. The more men able to provide backup, the better.
Othunan worked his jaw, but said nothing.
Ethan softened his expression. "Look." The word came out as a half sigh. "We'll give you a monthly stipend. Okay? But it'll be more like three
"You're forgetting the goals of this operation," Doug said. "I don't give a rat's ass about the liberation of Mosul. I really don't. It would be nice, sure, but in the overall scheme of things it really is an internal Iraqi matter. All I care about is getting my operative back. I can give you supplies, and arms, but no airstrikes. Can I rely on you for help, or not?"
Othunan opened and closed his fists for several seconds, apparently fuming inside. But finally he seemed to relax. "Yes, I can help. But if I am to work for the American government, I will require a monthly fee."
Doug compressed his lips. "I think I can arrange something."
"I want three hundred thousand US dollars. Per month."
Doug stared at Othunan for several seconds.
"This is bullshit," Doug abruptly announced in English, then made a beeline for the warehouse exit. "Let's go, Emad. We've made a mistake."
Othunan stared wide-eyed at Doug's back.
Ethan didn't move. He regarded the resistance leader thoughtfully. He'd dealt with men like Othunan before. He was simply another war opportunist looking to cash in on the chaos and uncertainty brought about by the occupation; he had no intention of making any real difference. Sure, he'd performed a few attacks against the Islamic State, random strikes meant to draw Western attention and funding. Or maybe he just wanted to grandstand. Either way, his endgame was likely some position of power in post-Islamic State Iraq.
"Now you deal with me," Ethan told the resistance leader.
"I do not speak with underlings." Othunan started to turn away.
"Don't you move!" Ethan said angrily.
Othunan froze.
"I'm not an underling." Ethan glanced over his shoulder. He knew that William had been silently shadowing them, moving from shelf to shelf as well as he was able, because the resistance fighters assigned to watch him had moved, too. So he raised his voice, and said, "Put Othunan in your sights."
The red dot returned to Othunan's chest. Ethan raised his A4, adding the threat of his own weapon to the mix.
The two escorting resistance fighters immediately lifted their AKs; one aimed at Ethan, the other William. Ethan didn't flinch. Other men emerged from the shadows and clumsily repositioned themselves, placing one or the other operative within their sight lines.
Ethan smiled patiently.
"Are you all in position?" Ethan asked the resistance fighters. No one answered. "Good." He returned his attention to their leader. "How much is your life worth to you, Othunan? Ten thousand US dollars? Twenty thousand? Three hundred thousand, perchance?"
Othunan regarded him with a glower. "Three hundred thousand, at least."
Ethan tapped his chin. "Three hundred thousand US dollars. Seems reasonable. Tell you what I'll do. You agree to help us for one month, just one whole month, and I give you your life. Seems a fair exchange."
"If you shoot me," Othunan said. "My men will mow you down an instant later."
"They can certainly try," Ethan said menacingly.
"You won't shoot me," Othunan persisted. "You need my help."
"Do we really?" Ethan said. "We would like your help, but that's way different than needing your help. Trust me, we're very capable of finding and springing her on our own if we have to."
That was somewhat of a bluff, as Ethan knew it would take a lot less time to find her with a hundred men watching the comings and goings of the Islamic State as opposed to three. Plus, the compound where Sam was held would likely be well defended. The more men able to provide backup, the better.
Othunan worked his jaw, but said nothing.
Ethan softened his expression. "Look." The word came out as a half sigh. "We'll give you a monthly stipend. Okay? But it'll be more like three
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