Read Online Running the Maze by Jack Coughlin, Donald A. Davis - Free Book Online
Authors: Jack Coughlin, Donald A. Davis
Tags: thriller
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what has happened. My whole theory is based on Joey having seen something that I would recognize. I have to look at everything if we want to figure it out.” She carefully took the pictures, forcing herself to stay calm. Joey would still be dead, no matter whether or not she saw the ugly pictures of his ravaged body.
Master Gunny O. O. Dawkins pulled at his cheek as he thought. “The fuckin’ State Department is covering this up?”
“We don’t know that for sure, Double-Oh,” replied Swanson, “but according to my Feeb, that is where the information funnel narrows. That way, the incident is moved out of reach of any investigating arm and disappears into the diplomatic arena. Cables will be exchanged saying it was a tragic situation. No fault to be assigned beyond the Taliban gunmen who are also now dead and cannot challenge any official version.”
Middleton gathered the photos and returned them to the stack and straightened the corners. He closed his eyes for a moment before speaking. “All right. Here’s what we’re going to do. I want a plan to put some boots on the ground over there. Lizard, you get some overhead images of the area. Swanson will take Petty Officer Ledford in to see whatever it was her brother found. Go in, then get the hell out quick. Stay out of trouble, if you can. Should be a piece of cake, since the Paki army swears they have control of the area.”
“Sir!” Kyle almost came out of his chair in surprise. “All due respect, general, but Petty Officer Ledford isn’t qualified to do a special ops mission.”
“I don’t recall asking for your opinion, Gunnery Sergeant. You will take her in there, find what needs to be found, and then bring her out again. Are we clear?”
Swanson gave up. No use arguing with Middleton, who wore two stars on each shoulder. He knew the general was already thinking several moves ahead. “Aye-aye, sir. We’re clear.”
Beth Ledford was out of her chair in an instant, standing at rigid attention. “Sir. May I speak freely?”
Middleton’s brow furrowed. “Go ahead.”
“Sir, I do not feel that Gunnery Sergeant Swanson is the right man for this job. I don’t trust him. He is condescending, and if he does not believe I am up to the mission, he will be distracted and could get us both killed.”
Swanson jumped up to attention, too. “Sir!”
Middleton slammed his desk so hard that it sounded like a gunshot. “Sit down! Both of you! Jesus H. Christ on a shingle. What’s the matter with you two? This is not some junior high school hayride, nor is it a democracy. I make the decisions around here. I gave an order and you will obey it. You don’t have to like it; you just have to do it. Now … are we clear?”
“Yes, sir,” said Swanson.
“Yes, sir,” said Ledford.
“Good. A warning for both of you. You will get your shit together and work as a team. Put your differences on the shelf, because I don’t care whether you like each other. But you screw up this mission over something that minor and I’ll put you both in front of a court-martial. If my estimation is correct, Dr. Ledford stumbled on something that may be of great importance for our country’s security. Master Gunny Dawkins, we will give this priority over the Green Light on Charlie Brown. He gets to live a few more days.”
7
T HE MORNING SUN CAME up like a bright ball over the Atlantic horizon. First there was a hint of the coming dawn, then the first bars of sunshine hit the black water, and in only a few minutes, it was daylight at the Unknown Distance Range on the Marine Corps base in Quantico, Virginia. Chilly. Kyle Swanson was sitting on a fender of a Humvee, watching the dawn and drinking coffee from a thermos. He was still angry at Beth Ledford for saying she did not trust him. He was right in the argument, because the woman was not spec op trained. Freakin’ Coastie. There was an old ditty about their motto: Semper Paratus is a laugh, they join to
Master Gunny O. O. Dawkins pulled at his cheek as he thought. “The fuckin’ State Department is covering this up?”
“We don’t know that for sure, Double-Oh,” replied Swanson, “but according to my Feeb, that is where the information funnel narrows. That way, the incident is moved out of reach of any investigating arm and disappears into the diplomatic arena. Cables will be exchanged saying it was a tragic situation. No fault to be assigned beyond the Taliban gunmen who are also now dead and cannot challenge any official version.”
Middleton gathered the photos and returned them to the stack and straightened the corners. He closed his eyes for a moment before speaking. “All right. Here’s what we’re going to do. I want a plan to put some boots on the ground over there. Lizard, you get some overhead images of the area. Swanson will take Petty Officer Ledford in to see whatever it was her brother found. Go in, then get the hell out quick. Stay out of trouble, if you can. Should be a piece of cake, since the Paki army swears they have control of the area.”
“Sir!” Kyle almost came out of his chair in surprise. “All due respect, general, but Petty Officer Ledford isn’t qualified to do a special ops mission.”
“I don’t recall asking for your opinion, Gunnery Sergeant. You will take her in there, find what needs to be found, and then bring her out again. Are we clear?”
Swanson gave up. No use arguing with Middleton, who wore two stars on each shoulder. He knew the general was already thinking several moves ahead. “Aye-aye, sir. We’re clear.”
Beth Ledford was out of her chair in an instant, standing at rigid attention. “Sir. May I speak freely?”
Middleton’s brow furrowed. “Go ahead.”
“Sir, I do not feel that Gunnery Sergeant Swanson is the right man for this job. I don’t trust him. He is condescending, and if he does not believe I am up to the mission, he will be distracted and could get us both killed.”
Swanson jumped up to attention, too. “Sir!”
Middleton slammed his desk so hard that it sounded like a gunshot. “Sit down! Both of you! Jesus H. Christ on a shingle. What’s the matter with you two? This is not some junior high school hayride, nor is it a democracy. I make the decisions around here. I gave an order and you will obey it. You don’t have to like it; you just have to do it. Now … are we clear?”
“Yes, sir,” said Swanson.
“Yes, sir,” said Ledford.
“Good. A warning for both of you. You will get your shit together and work as a team. Put your differences on the shelf, because I don’t care whether you like each other. But you screw up this mission over something that minor and I’ll put you both in front of a court-martial. If my estimation is correct, Dr. Ledford stumbled on something that may be of great importance for our country’s security. Master Gunny Dawkins, we will give this priority over the Green Light on Charlie Brown. He gets to live a few more days.”
7
T HE MORNING SUN CAME up like a bright ball over the Atlantic horizon. First there was a hint of the coming dawn, then the first bars of sunshine hit the black water, and in only a few minutes, it was daylight at the Unknown Distance Range on the Marine Corps base in Quantico, Virginia. Chilly. Kyle Swanson was sitting on a fender of a Humvee, watching the dawn and drinking coffee from a thermos. He was still angry at Beth Ledford for saying she did not trust him. He was right in the argument, because the woman was not spec op trained. Freakin’ Coastie. There was an old ditty about their motto: Semper Paratus is a laugh, they join to
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