Genocide of One: A Thriller by Kazuaki Takano Read Free Book Online

sign Hawk.” The men’s expressions were a little tense at this first meeting.
     For Yeager these were critical new colleagues, his new comrades in arms.
     “We assemble at seventeen hundred hours in the second-floor briefing room,” Singleton
     added, and left.
    “Hi, Hawk,” one of the men said. He was slim, calm-looking, and appeared to be in
     his twenties—on the young side for a private defense contractor. In situations like
     these invariably the friendliest man introduced himself first, the most somber man
     last. “Scott Meyers, call sign Blanket.”
    “Nice to meet you.” Yeager smiled at the call sign and shook his hand.
    The next man to shake his hand was about the same age. “Warren Garrett. No call sign.”
    He figured Garrett for a thoughtful staff officer. An unpretentious type, but someone
     you could count on when things got rough.
    Meyers and Garrett were both white, probably American, but the third man was Asian.
     He was short but hugely muscular, especially around the neck and shoulders, obviously
     on performance-enhancing drugs.
    “Mikihiko Kashiwabara,” he said.
    “Miki— heko ?” Yeager asked, and Meyers and Garrett laughed.
    “Nobody can pronounce it,” Garrett said. “Japanese names are impossible.”
    “What were you called on your last job?” Meyers asked. “Mickey?”
    “Mick,” the Japanese man said, disgust evident in his voice. Clearly not his favorite
     nickname.
    “Mick it is, then,” said Garrett.
    Japanese weren’t common among private defense contractors, and Yeager was impressed.
     “What did you do before you started this line of work?” he asked.
    “I was in the French Foreign Legion,” Mick replied in heavily accented English. “Before
     that I was with the Japan Self-Defense Force.”
    Yeager already saw a potential problem. Normally when a team of private contractors
     was put together the men were all from the same military background. Even within the
     United States, the army and the marines employed different tactics and weapons. Once
     they were in combat these differences could lead to confusion and even get a team
     killed, which is why private contractors were usually teamed up with people who had
     the same background and training.
    “I was in the US Special Forces,” Yeager said, trying to draw out the others.
    “US Air Force for me,” Meyers said. “Pararescue.”
    Pararescue jumpers were trained in advanced medical treatment and combat. Their motto
     was “That others may live.” An unusual background for a private defense contractor.
    “The marines, Force Recon,” Garrett said.
    The team was certainly a mixed bag. Yeager knew they’d have to coordinate code words
     and hand signals to use in a combat situation. And he’d have to make sure that Mick
     felt like part of the team.
      
    The briefing room was a small, windowless room. Narrow desks lined up facing a whiteboard
     next to the wall.
    Singleton strode in at exactly 1700. He glanced at Meyers, who was ready to take notes.
     “No notes in this briefing. You need to memorize all the info I give you.”
    Meyers quietly put away his pad and pen.
    “I know you still don’t know each other, so I’ll introduce each of you and tell you
     what your individual assignments are. First of all, all of you are airborne certified.
     Yeager will be the team leader. He’ll be in charge of weapons and sharpshooting. Your
     languages are English, Arabic, and Pashtun, too, I believe?”
    “Correct,” Yeager replied.
    “In the present operation, though, we won’t have need for those special skills.” Singleton
     turned to the next man. “Meyers will be your medic. What other languages do you speak?”
    “None, really,” the young man answered. “A little medical terminology. That’s about
     it.”
    Singleton stared hard at him for a moment. Yeager figured Singleton for a former member
     of the South African army.
    “Garrett, you’re in charge of communications. In addition