Cliff Ryder - Aim And Fire

“No, that will not happen.” Sepehr turned to the guard manning the console. “Deploy the sniper teams on the roof, with orders to destroy anything that approaches the outer perimeter. It doesn’t matter who they are, local police, FBI, Border Patrol—anyone is a target now. The guards at the front gate are also authorized to use whatever means necessary to repel the infidels.”

He turned to Joseph. “Get me an update of the repairs to the rocket. We must launch as soon as possible.” He grabbed the other man’s arm, halting his aimless pacing.

“Do not lose heart now. We are so close to achieving everything we have worked for, what you have labored your entire life to create. I need you to believe for only a few more minutes, then we are done.”

Joseph stared into Sepehr’s burning brown eyes, then, as if gathering strength from his will, nodded. “My belief in the jihad is infinite, brother. We will show the infidels the glory of Islamic might this day.”

“Good.” Sepehr leaned close and spoke his next words into Joseph’s ear. “Make sure the tunnel is prepared, in the event we will need to leave quickly.”

“Everything is ready. We just need that damn rocket to be ready, and we will strike a blow against America that they will never forget,” Joseph said.

“Inshallah,” Sepehr replied. “As Allah wills, so shall it be.”

Tracy snapped her phone closed and walked over, with Nate in tow, to a group of SWAT team members who had just exited their van. Behind them, a smaller armored truck pulled up. “Who’s in charge of your unit?” Tracy asked.

A Latino man a few years younger than Nate stepped forward, dressed in the usual SWAT uniform of black fatigues with a bulletproof tactical vest, elbow and knee pads, a submachine gun slung over his shoulder, a pistol at his side and a Kevlar helmet on his head. “Sergeant Jose Elidondo. And you are?” His tone wasn’t confronta-tional, merely neutral.

Tracy held out her identification. “Special Agent Tracy Wentworth, Department of Homeland Security, and rank-ing agent in charge of this operation.”

Although Tracy saw a few eye-rolls from the other team members, Elidondo absorbed this information without a pause. “What’s the situation?”

“There are anywhere from a half-dozen to thirty armed and barricaded terrorists in this compound that need to be neutralized. There is also the strong possibility of hazar-dous materials on site.”

“Chemical?” the sergeant asked.

“Radioactive,” Tracy replied.

That got a reaction out of the previously unflappable SWAT leader. His eyebrows rose. “Confirmed?”

Tracy barely hesitated, then nodded at the wreckage of their truck. “That’s their security team’s handiwork.

They fired on us without provocation—it’s why you’re out here now.”

The sergeant glanced over the smoldering remains.

“Okay, call the ball.”

“Sergeant, I don’t want to tell you how to do your job, but I need the people inside that fence captured or eliminated as soon as possible. However you choose to accomplish that is fine with me. There is one stipulation, however.” She gave him a photo. “If this man is seen on the premises, take all care to capture him alive.”

Tracy heard surprised muttering from the rest of the team. One tall man said, “Someone from DHS is actually gonna let us do our jobs? What alternate universe is this?”

They were quieted by a look from their superior before he turned back to Tracy. “You’re sure this is the way you want to go? You don’t want to try and negotiate?”

“We cannot afford to give them any more time. Even now, they may very well be on the way to putting their plan into action.” She pointed to the nose of the rocket, jutting up above the hill.

“Holy shit.” Elidondo’s eyes widened. “Take out everyone inside except your guy—got it. What about the rocket?”

“We’ve already got people working on that,” Tracy said.

“Okay, what can you tell us about the site?”

“I have detailed files. You boys got a laptop or patrol computer? What I can’t tell you is the level of weapons or any after-construction security details that may have been added.”

“Right this way, Agent Wentworth.” Briggs, the tall man who had scoffed at her, opened the back door of the van and pointed to a console built into the wall behind the passenger seat. He gave her a USB cable to hook into.

Tracy used the touch screen on her phone to send the files to the SWAT computer, then got out of the way as they all clustered around the screen. Elidondo printed copies, distributed them and outlined the insertion with swift strokes, creating a three-pronged assault in a few minutes. He led his squad out and joined a half-dozen more men. All of them gathered around as the plan was reviewed and copies of the building’s schematics were distributed. Four got into a small armored truck and drove back out into the desert. The helicopter that had been circling overhead was directed to land on the other side of the road. Three snipers, each carrying a Remington M700 rifle with telescopic sights, headed out to the rise with their spotters, giving the smoking remains of Nate’s truck a wide berth.

“You know some of these boys ain’t gonna come back.”

Nate stood beside her, his arms folded, as they watched the teams prep for the assault.

“I’m trying not to dwell on that at the moment. If necessary, I’m prepared to sacrifice all of them to get the job done. They knew the risks when they signed up. If they pull this off, they’ll have saved hundreds of thousands of lives.”

Tracy’s words were strong, but they belied the hollow feeling inside at sending those men off to perhaps die in the next few minutes. “What I need is a way to watch what’s happening.”

“Ma’am, you can follow our teams on the internal monitors here.” Briggs must have overheard her remark.

“Deal, but only if you never call me that again. ‘Tracy’ will be fine.”

“Yes, ma— Agent Wentworth.”

With a shrug, Tracy climbed into the back of the SWAT van, which was equipped with more than the standard bench seats and storage lockers. Next to the lockers were three small monitors, each corresponding to one of the teams that were about to make their move.

“I can’t recall the last time we had to use all three of these,” the tall officer said as he adjusted one of them for a cleared picture. “Team Alpha, you are online. Team Bravo, you are online. Team Charlie, you are online. All copy.”

A chorus of affirmatives answered the ops officer, then they heard Elidondo, who had taken a position in the armored truck that was going to breach the front gate. “All teams assume your positions and commence operation on my mark.”

There was a moment of silence, and Tracy heard the roar of the truck as it powered up the rise.

“Briggs, let your sergeant know that they have a pop-up barrier at the main entrance.”

“Thank you, Agent, that was already noted on the plans you provided. They’ll be accessing the grounds through the cyclone fence after eliminating the guard post.”

“I thought you weren’t going to tell them how to do their job,” Nate muttered, but Tracy was too intent on the images unfolding before her to take the bait.

The helicopter had picked up the members who would assault from the roof, and now waited for the word to swoop down and disgorge its heavily armed passengers to seize the high ground. The truck was waiting to roar in to breach the fence near the front gate, while the third team would enter at the rear of the compound and access the main building, sweeping forward to catch the occupants by surprise and overwhelm them with superior forces and firepower.