the military that extensive discipline and a rigorous regimen of physical demand was the perfect antidote for the seething fury that had boiled inside of her since childhood. She’d been an angry and confused six-year-old following the death of her parents in that tragic car accident, but then when her foster father had betrayed her and begun to…
She had tried to channel her rage and hurt by studying martial arts and spending most of her free time at a dojo run by one of her counselors in Tel Aviv, but that hadn’t filled the hole in her soul. Neither had the almost obsessive study of languages, mastering a new one every year. No, the pain and outrage had no outlet until she’d joined the military, and it had translated into a fearlessness and ability to execute that knew no equal. Mossad recruiters had been alerted, and after poring over every aspect of her background, decided she was perfect for the experimental new team they were assembling.
Everyone selected had several things in common. No family. No real friends. No husbands or wives; nobody close. Emotional detachment and fluid sense of morality. And nearly superhuman reflexes and skills with weapons.
Jet never knew how many were approached, or how many went into the program only to falter during the brutal and uncompromising training. She had been trained alone. Though she’d seen a few others coming and going, Jet had been kept in a separate area, segregated except for her three instructors. At one point, one of them had explained that the isolation was for her safety; nobody knew who was on the team except for those who’d made the grade and had to work together, and the man assigned to act as its control – a man known only to the team by the code name Ariel. Jet didn’t even get to meet him until she had been approved in the final weeks before her specialized training ended. She’d been surprised to find that he was relatively young – no more than his mid-thirties – and extremely intense. Brooding would have been one description that would have fitted perfectly.
She snapped back to the present. There was nothing to be gained doing a trip down memory lane. She needed to focus.
Her footfalls crunched on the dry twigs, and she slowed as her GPS indicated she was getting close to the compound. With any luck, the mission would be over within fifteen minutes from the time she deactivated the first motion detector. Maybe less. There were twelve sentries guarding the target, but they worked split shifts, so she only needed to contend with six. The others would be neutralized in their sleeping quarters, using gas. The two small aluminum canisters were wrapped in neoprene sheaths to protect them on approach.
The compound’s lights were visible from several hundred yards, even through the dense vegetation. She’d been following a trail the advance surveillance group had told her ran near the property. She paused in the underbrush to flip her night vision goggles out of her field of vision, and brushed a bead of moisture off her forehead. There were a few other minor loose ends to attend to, but it was almost showtime, and her first piece of business was to render the motion detectors useless.
~ ~ ~
The guard never knew what hit him – a throwing knife penetrated his ribcage from behind, piercing his heart, the neurotoxin on the blade instantly paralyzing him even as his life ebbed from him. Jet knew there were four sentries outside and two inside, and her strategy was to take out the exterior guards silently.
She moved like a wraith, nearly invisible in the shadows. The second guard would be rounding the building within one minute – the Mossad watchers had confirmed the security detail was on a tight timetable with its patrols, a throwback to the highly disciplined training the men had received in the Russian special forces – Spetsnaz GRU, the most elite of the elite.
The little PSS pistol popped, driving a 7.62mm bullet through the
She had tried to channel her rage and hurt by studying martial arts and spending most of her free time at a dojo run by one of her counselors in Tel Aviv, but that hadn’t filled the hole in her soul. Neither had the almost obsessive study of languages, mastering a new one every year. No, the pain and outrage had no outlet until she’d joined the military, and it had translated into a fearlessness and ability to execute that knew no equal. Mossad recruiters had been alerted, and after poring over every aspect of her background, decided she was perfect for the experimental new team they were assembling.
Everyone selected had several things in common. No family. No real friends. No husbands or wives; nobody close. Emotional detachment and fluid sense of morality. And nearly superhuman reflexes and skills with weapons.
Jet never knew how many were approached, or how many went into the program only to falter during the brutal and uncompromising training. She had been trained alone. Though she’d seen a few others coming and going, Jet had been kept in a separate area, segregated except for her three instructors. At one point, one of them had explained that the isolation was for her safety; nobody knew who was on the team except for those who’d made the grade and had to work together, and the man assigned to act as its control – a man known only to the team by the code name Ariel. Jet didn’t even get to meet him until she had been approved in the final weeks before her specialized training ended. She’d been surprised to find that he was relatively young – no more than his mid-thirties – and extremely intense. Brooding would have been one description that would have fitted perfectly.
She snapped back to the present. There was nothing to be gained doing a trip down memory lane. She needed to focus.
Her footfalls crunched on the dry twigs, and she slowed as her GPS indicated she was getting close to the compound. With any luck, the mission would be over within fifteen minutes from the time she deactivated the first motion detector. Maybe less. There were twelve sentries guarding the target, but they worked split shifts, so she only needed to contend with six. The others would be neutralized in their sleeping quarters, using gas. The two small aluminum canisters were wrapped in neoprene sheaths to protect them on approach.
The compound’s lights were visible from several hundred yards, even through the dense vegetation. She’d been following a trail the advance surveillance group had told her ran near the property. She paused in the underbrush to flip her night vision goggles out of her field of vision, and brushed a bead of moisture off her forehead. There were a few other minor loose ends to attend to, but it was almost showtime, and her first piece of business was to render the motion detectors useless.
~ ~ ~
The guard never knew what hit him – a throwing knife penetrated his ribcage from behind, piercing his heart, the neurotoxin on the blade instantly paralyzing him even as his life ebbed from him. Jet knew there were four sentries outside and two inside, and her strategy was to take out the exterior guards silently.
She moved like a wraith, nearly invisible in the shadows. The second guard would be rounding the building within one minute – the Mossad watchers had confirmed the security detail was on a tight timetable with its patrols, a throwback to the highly disciplined training the men had received in the Russian special forces – Spetsnaz GRU, the most elite of the elite.
The little PSS pistol popped, driving a 7.62mm bullet through the
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