Read Online Echo Six: Black Ops 7 - Tibetan Fury by Eric Meyer - Free Book Online
Authors: Eric Meyer
Tags: thriller, Literature & Fiction, Action & Adventure, Mystery, War & Military, Genre Fiction, Mystery; Thriller & Suspense, War, Men's Adventure
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quietly parachute into Tibet. It's a sleight of hand; while they're watching our right hand, the left hand will slip in the sucker punch. I know the risks, and it's not an ideal scenario, but we don't have a choice. We have to balance the risks, and this is the best way."
Talley wasn't convinced. "What about the missiles and heavy equipment? How can we transport it?"
"We'll have to manage without anything we can't carry. We need to move faster than we anticipated. Speed is even more important now. I've a backup LZ inside Tibet, just in case something went wrong. Well, it's gone wrong, so we'll use it. It's at Norbulingka. I'm rechecking the coordinates, and I'll let you have them in a few minutes. Don't worry; we'll ace this one, Talley. We've been through worse."
"Yes, Sir."
Except the Chinese already suspect something's up. The alarm bells sounded the moment the Nepalese military flight called us. Shit!
* * *
They stood at the head of the ramp. The jumpmaster had opened it several minutes before, allowing the icy Himalayan air to rush inside the cabin. It also allowed the roar of the four mighty turbojets to almost deafen them, together with the mighty winds that howled around the fuselage. The temperature measured sixty degrees below zero, and the wind strength was off the clock. They were all covered from head to toe in white camos, except Admiral Brooks, who wore a heavy, padded, olive green Air Force parka coat. He was strapped to the front of Heinrich Buchmann, on the basis that the German used a larger 'chute, and could utilize his enormous strength to bring the Admiral to a safe landing. One thing was certain; over the Himalayas it was going to be a hairy exit from the Globemaster, a white-knuckle ride down, and the landing was anyone's guess.
He glanced over at Grace Ferraro. Like the Echo Six team, she was covered in white camos. She'd insisted on carrying an assault rifle as well as a handgun, and in deference to her small size, he'd issued her with a Heckler and Koch MP5K, the tiny, snub-nose 9mm submachine gun. She also packed an HK P228, the compact version of the P226, in a leg holster. She looked warlike enough. Not at all like a Buddhist nun.
She caught him staring at her. "What?"
"I was wondering, are you okay with this? Well, it's not what you expected."
She gave him a rueful smile. "It's a bit late for second thoughts now."
"You don't have to do this."
Her stare hardened. "You don't get it, Abe. A good man's life depends on this, a Buddhist monk. I do have to do this."
He nodded. "As long as you're going to be safe."
"I did the free fall course."
"It's nothing like ordinary free fall. We'll be gliding in through possible gale force crosswinds at high altitude. Make sure you listen to my orders, and watch your wrist mount GPS like a hawk. If you don't, you'll die."
"Yes, Dad."
He laughed. "Okay, commo check everyone." He keyed his mic, "This is Echo One, how do you receive? By the numbers."
They called in. Guy Welland first, "Echo Two, receiving strength five."
"Echo Three, strength five." Domenico Rovere.
"Echo Four, strength five "
"Echo Five, strength five."
"Echo Six, strength five."
Echo Six was Admiral Brooks. He glanced at him. The guy was too old, much too old for this. And yet, he was the man in charge, and they were short handed.
The jumpmaster held up one finger.
One minute to eternity or a Chinese firing squad?
"Five, four, three, two, green light, go, go, go!"
They jumped into the unknown, the high altitude hell of the Himalayan night sky, and an unknown LZ in the heart of Communist Tibet.
Chapter Three
"Tell me your name."
He opened his eyes and looked up at the rough wooden ceiling of a hut, a prison hut. It was cold, bitterly cold, which was unsurprising. He could see through a nearby window, and the ground was covered in ice and snow. Yet there was no heating in the hut, and when the man spoke, his breath condensed in the icy air. The man in front of him
Talley wasn't convinced. "What about the missiles and heavy equipment? How can we transport it?"
"We'll have to manage without anything we can't carry. We need to move faster than we anticipated. Speed is even more important now. I've a backup LZ inside Tibet, just in case something went wrong. Well, it's gone wrong, so we'll use it. It's at Norbulingka. I'm rechecking the coordinates, and I'll let you have them in a few minutes. Don't worry; we'll ace this one, Talley. We've been through worse."
"Yes, Sir."
Except the Chinese already suspect something's up. The alarm bells sounded the moment the Nepalese military flight called us. Shit!
* * *
They stood at the head of the ramp. The jumpmaster had opened it several minutes before, allowing the icy Himalayan air to rush inside the cabin. It also allowed the roar of the four mighty turbojets to almost deafen them, together with the mighty winds that howled around the fuselage. The temperature measured sixty degrees below zero, and the wind strength was off the clock. They were all covered from head to toe in white camos, except Admiral Brooks, who wore a heavy, padded, olive green Air Force parka coat. He was strapped to the front of Heinrich Buchmann, on the basis that the German used a larger 'chute, and could utilize his enormous strength to bring the Admiral to a safe landing. One thing was certain; over the Himalayas it was going to be a hairy exit from the Globemaster, a white-knuckle ride down, and the landing was anyone's guess.
He glanced over at Grace Ferraro. Like the Echo Six team, she was covered in white camos. She'd insisted on carrying an assault rifle as well as a handgun, and in deference to her small size, he'd issued her with a Heckler and Koch MP5K, the tiny, snub-nose 9mm submachine gun. She also packed an HK P228, the compact version of the P226, in a leg holster. She looked warlike enough. Not at all like a Buddhist nun.
She caught him staring at her. "What?"
"I was wondering, are you okay with this? Well, it's not what you expected."
She gave him a rueful smile. "It's a bit late for second thoughts now."
"You don't have to do this."
Her stare hardened. "You don't get it, Abe. A good man's life depends on this, a Buddhist monk. I do have to do this."
He nodded. "As long as you're going to be safe."
"I did the free fall course."
"It's nothing like ordinary free fall. We'll be gliding in through possible gale force crosswinds at high altitude. Make sure you listen to my orders, and watch your wrist mount GPS like a hawk. If you don't, you'll die."
"Yes, Dad."
He laughed. "Okay, commo check everyone." He keyed his mic, "This is Echo One, how do you receive? By the numbers."
They called in. Guy Welland first, "Echo Two, receiving strength five."
"Echo Three, strength five." Domenico Rovere.
"Echo Four, strength five "
"Echo Five, strength five."
"Echo Six, strength five."
Echo Six was Admiral Brooks. He glanced at him. The guy was too old, much too old for this. And yet, he was the man in charge, and they were short handed.
The jumpmaster held up one finger.
One minute to eternity or a Chinese firing squad?
"Five, four, three, two, green light, go, go, go!"
They jumped into the unknown, the high altitude hell of the Himalayan night sky, and an unknown LZ in the heart of Communist Tibet.
Chapter Three
"Tell me your name."
He opened his eyes and looked up at the rough wooden ceiling of a hut, a prison hut. It was cold, bitterly cold, which was unsurprising. He could see through a nearby window, and the ground was covered in ice and snow. Yet there was no heating in the hut, and when the man spoke, his breath condensed in the icy air. The man in front of him
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