Betrayal by Tim Tigner Read Free Book Online Page A

nodding to himself almost imperceptibly. He looked up suddenly to catch her expression. She felt the lining drop out of her stomach as their eyes locked. The flute slipped from her grasp but Cassi instantly forgot it. Stuart knew.

Chapter 10

    Tafriz, Iran

    F EELING HUMILIATED AND infuriated, Odi watched from behind a sandy knoll as his team disappeared into the inky Iranian night. For a second he considered tracking their progress further with the assistance of his Urtel sniper scope, but the thought of having to look in from the outside like a wannabe voyeur just rubbed salt in his wounds. He shook his head. What had Potchak gained by relieving him of command? He asked himself for the dozenth time. A lousy ten minutes? Ten minutes that might have made the difference between eliminating terrorists and murdering kids? Was it extreme urgency that drove Potchak’s severe reaction? Or was Odi missing something? He could not get his head around the incredible stupidity required to make a decision like that. It just did not compute. Potchak was a hard-ass, but he was no fool.
    Odi had no idea why Potchak had been so quick to strip him of power. Aside from the occasional disagreement—like the one where Potchak prohibited him from informing his men about their mission—their relationship had been smooth enough. It was not a particularly warm relationship, but then The Bulldog was not a warm-and-fuzzy kind of guy. Again Odi came to the conclusion that there were forces at work about which he had no knowledge. He hoped that once the dust settled, one of those forces would get him off the hook. As it was, Odi did not know what to hope for as he listened for the gunshot that would begin the questionable attack. His was a damned-if-you’re-right, damned-if-you’re-wrong situation. Either innocents were about to die, or his career was over.
    Odi also worried about his team. They were doing as demanded, following orders. That was rigidly expected of course. In fact, command repeatedly drilled in that very response in the course of some of the world’s most grueling military training. But every man still had to take responsibility for his own actions, and they knew that. The guilt resultant from pointlessly killing scores of innocents could not later be ordered away—not when they had been fairly warned.
    As Odi pondered that, his earphone cracked to life. Waslager’s oily voice said, “All teams report.”
    “Red team’s a go.” “White team’s a go.” “Blue team’s a go.” Derek, Adam, and Flint replied in sequence.
    Odi ripped off his headset and threw it to the ground. He told himself that he did not want to hear anything that might later legally jeopardize his men—like them conspiring to frag Waslager for example—but in fact he simply could not stand to listen. If the hospital did turn out to be legitimate and an investigation ensued, he would tell internal affairs that he removed his headset for tactical reasons, to better detect potential threats among the ambient noise.
    It began.
    The explosions reverberated like a giant’s footfalls across the sleepy land. Every ten seconds there was another six-point bang as the next salvo of explosive grenades brought the suspect buildings closer to the ground. Just like clockwork. He was proud of their precision if not their mission.
    Odi watched plumes of dusty smoke billow toward the inky sky, reflecting starlight back in a ghastly dance. Air that only moments ago was arid and crisp was now filled with an ominous cordite stench. He waited for the sounds of tortured screams and imploring pleas, but nothing rose above the deafening echoes of so many grenades. So much the better, he thought.
    He began counting down salvos, working backward with the knowledge that there would be ten. Ten ... nine ... eight ... At two he found himself rolling across the ground with a sharp pain pulsing lighting through his left shoulder. One way or another, he had been hit. Was it