Apocalypse Dawn by Mel Odom Read Free Book Online

frequency through the headset. Bill looked grim but he didn’t say anything.
    “I tried backtracking the guy,” the agent said. “I put a trace on him through the sat-com relays I was using, a relatively simple snooper program that masks itself as a digital enhancement viewer. Using the information I received through a dozen traces, I triangulated the guy’s location through ground-based satellite relays.”
    “Where was it?”
    “In Aleppo, Syria. Do you know where that is?”
    “I know where Aleppo is,” Remington said.
    Goose digested that. Aleppo housed the Syrian Missile Command. They had three mobile surface-to-surface missile brigades there that included one battalion of FROG-7 surface-to-surface missiles and one battalion of SS-1 SCUD-B missiles.
    The FROG-7s were unguided rockets but capable of carrying nuclear, chemical, or biological payloads seventy kilometers in from their point of launch. The SCUDs had limited guidance systems that made them somewhat reliable but certainly more dangerous than the FROG-7s.
    “When did you know for sure the cell had made you?” Remington asked.
    The agent took a deep, shuddering breath, then knuckled fresh blood from the corner of his mouth. Goose believed the young man might have a cracked rib. If it had punctured a lung, thankfully the arterial flow seemed minimal, only coloring his breath now and again.

    “The minute the assassination started to go badly,” the agent said, “I was locked down by the three men your team rescued me from. After the sweep, they were the only ones left standing. They took a ship around Syria, sailing from Israel to Turkey so they wouldn’t draw attention to themselves. They knew the U.S. military was observing the coastal cities and didn’t want to take a chance on someone identifying me.’
    “Why didn’t they kill you?”
    “Killing me would have been simpler. But they wanted to use me to continue digging into military placements around the Turkish border. We sailed to Izmir, then took a car to Ankara to one of the safe houses they had set up. I suppose the agency picked me up there and told you.’
    Goose watched the southern horizon. Tension knotted his stomach. If the Syrians had the information they needed to attack the border armies, and they knew the CIA agent they’d been waiting for was now in American hands, there was nothing holding them-
    “Phoenix Leader,” Remington said.
    “Go, Base,” Goose responded.
    I need you to delay your return to the front lines.”
    Goose bridled at that. The last place he needed to be during the coming engagement-an engagement he had unknowingly triggered by rescuing this CIA agent-was away from the front line.
    “But, sir-“
    “That’s an order, Sergeant,” Remington barked. “I want you and your team to head to Glitter City. You’ll need to take control of the evacuation there.”
    Goose glanced at his watch, thought of Megan, Joey, and Chris, and did the necessary math. He was three minutes from Glitter City and ten minutes from the front line.
    Glitter City was basically a tent city built of Quonset huts and leftover buildings from small towns that had been bombed and shelled out of existence years ago during border hostilities. It was located halfway between the border and Sanliurfa. During the past few weeks, as armament on both the Turkish and Syrian sides had built up, reporters from FOX News and CNN had taken up transitory residence in the tent city, becoming media nomads reporting on soldiers in the field, weaponry, political and sociological issues, and the possibility of war or peace.
    During the previous weeks, at Remington’s insistence, Goose had done two interviews. He hadn’t enjoyed doing them. So far, as near as he could tell, neither of the pieces had aired. Which was fine with him, though he considered the possibility that he wasn’t very interesting or very photogenic. Maybe he was just too boring for TV. Still, he and Megan had enjoyed a laugh about