Black Site by Dalton Fury Read Free Book Online
Authors: Dalton Fury
were not monitored by other parties. These were used chiefly for mundane logistics communication and weather updates, but Raynor knew he could speak freely to his friend over the Globalstar, and he did not hesitate to do so.
T.J.’s voice was different now that he was not being listened to by others. “Here’s your weather update, bro. It’s gonna turn dark and stormy over your head if you don’t check your tone. Smart-ass remarks over open comms aren’t gonna win you any friends.”
“Yeah, sorry. Just came out. Apologize on my behalf.”
“That’s what I’m here for.” T.J. was pissed, his radio protocol of a few minutes ago was long gone.
“What’s up with the Reaper?” Raynor asked, changing the subject.
“I don’t know. It’s gonna be a couple of hours before they can replace it.”
“Look. Foxtrot gets us less than two hundred meters from a decent overwatch on the target. We can go ahead, make it before BMNT. If we lay up two hundred lousy meters short we’ll shove the entire timetable back twenty-four hours. That’s twenty-four hours where something can go wrong.”
“If you find a good ROD nothing will go wrong.”
“I can think of a half-dozen things off the top of my head. The HVT might leave the target area. Taliban spotters might hear the UAV and get spooked enough to double security. A Pashtun farmer might stumble onto Rocky while he’s taking a leak. Some suit in Washington might pull the plug on the whole op. Every minute we sit around short of target is another minute this whole thing can go south. I know. I’ve been here before.” Kolt had led this same element over the border on Infinite Reach 02 and 04, and both times he’d been ordered to turn around for reasons never made clear to his satisfaction. He took it personally.
“Wait for the UAV.”
“We’ve only got two hours to dawn.”
“Yeah. I’ve got a watch.”
“It’s just two hundred meters.”
“Yeah, I’ve got a map, too.”
Raynor gritted his teeth. T.J. always was the more careful one. “Fortune favors the brave.”
“Fuckups favor the brave too, Major. I don’t want to have to fly down there and save your impatient ass.” In the event of an emergency there was a Ranger Quick Reaction Force up in Bagram and a pair of Chinooks prepared to fly them in over the border to extract Raynor and Hunter 29. But Raynor knew that T.J. was closer, and Raynor also knew his best friend would move mountains to get to him if he needed him.
Raynor blew out a long sigh. Waited a little longer than necessary to respond, just to show his friend that he thought the order to find a ROD was stupid.
“Understood, Colonel.”
* * *
In Nevada, Pamela Archer cussed into her mike. “We’ve got a team over the border and they’re pulling us offline for a software glitch? The bird flies. The cameras see. This is crazy!”
“Come on, Pam. We’ve got two sensors showing ice buildup,” barked back her commanding colonel over the radio.
“She’s not freezing up! I’ve seen those readings before. Everything else is in nominal range. De-ice controller is working. Flight characteristics are unchanged. It’s just the software misreading the fluctuating air pressure on the wings. It thinks the antifreeze is blocked in the weeping holes.”
“If those wings ice up—”
“They won’t.”
“You want to risk losing the bird?”
“You want to risk losing the men?”
“Damn it, Captain! We fly inside operational limits. On a mission this big I’ll let you fudge it a bit here and there if I have to, but two simultaneous ice readings take this UAV offline. I’m not going to let a Reaper go down in Pakistan. We’ve got another crew that can have their ship there in three hours. You bring yours back to base ASAP! This discussion is over!” The colonel left the conversation. Pam imagined him ripping his headset off and throwing it down as he paced back and forth in the UAV Operations Center a few hundred
T.J.’s voice was different now that he was not being listened to by others. “Here’s your weather update, bro. It’s gonna turn dark and stormy over your head if you don’t check your tone. Smart-ass remarks over open comms aren’t gonna win you any friends.”
“Yeah, sorry. Just came out. Apologize on my behalf.”
“That’s what I’m here for.” T.J. was pissed, his radio protocol of a few minutes ago was long gone.
“What’s up with the Reaper?” Raynor asked, changing the subject.
“I don’t know. It’s gonna be a couple of hours before they can replace it.”
“Look. Foxtrot gets us less than two hundred meters from a decent overwatch on the target. We can go ahead, make it before BMNT. If we lay up two hundred lousy meters short we’ll shove the entire timetable back twenty-four hours. That’s twenty-four hours where something can go wrong.”
“If you find a good ROD nothing will go wrong.”
“I can think of a half-dozen things off the top of my head. The HVT might leave the target area. Taliban spotters might hear the UAV and get spooked enough to double security. A Pashtun farmer might stumble onto Rocky while he’s taking a leak. Some suit in Washington might pull the plug on the whole op. Every minute we sit around short of target is another minute this whole thing can go south. I know. I’ve been here before.” Kolt had led this same element over the border on Infinite Reach 02 and 04, and both times he’d been ordered to turn around for reasons never made clear to his satisfaction. He took it personally.
“Wait for the UAV.”
“We’ve only got two hours to dawn.”
“Yeah. I’ve got a watch.”
“It’s just two hundred meters.”
“Yeah, I’ve got a map, too.”
Raynor gritted his teeth. T.J. always was the more careful one. “Fortune favors the brave.”
“Fuckups favor the brave too, Major. I don’t want to have to fly down there and save your impatient ass.” In the event of an emergency there was a Ranger Quick Reaction Force up in Bagram and a pair of Chinooks prepared to fly them in over the border to extract Raynor and Hunter 29. But Raynor knew that T.J. was closer, and Raynor also knew his best friend would move mountains to get to him if he needed him.
Raynor blew out a long sigh. Waited a little longer than necessary to respond, just to show his friend that he thought the order to find a ROD was stupid.
“Understood, Colonel.”
* * *
In Nevada, Pamela Archer cussed into her mike. “We’ve got a team over the border and they’re pulling us offline for a software glitch? The bird flies. The cameras see. This is crazy!”
“Come on, Pam. We’ve got two sensors showing ice buildup,” barked back her commanding colonel over the radio.
“She’s not freezing up! I’ve seen those readings before. Everything else is in nominal range. De-ice controller is working. Flight characteristics are unchanged. It’s just the software misreading the fluctuating air pressure on the wings. It thinks the antifreeze is blocked in the weeping holes.”
“If those wings ice up—”
“They won’t.”
“You want to risk losing the bird?”
“You want to risk losing the men?”
“Damn it, Captain! We fly inside operational limits. On a mission this big I’ll let you fudge it a bit here and there if I have to, but two simultaneous ice readings take this UAV offline. I’m not going to let a Reaper go down in Pakistan. We’ve got another crew that can have their ship there in three hours. You bring yours back to base ASAP! This discussion is over!” The colonel left the conversation. Pam imagined him ripping his headset off and throwing it down as he paced back and forth in the UAV Operations Center a few hundred