To the Brink by Cindy Gerard Read Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Cindy Gerard
were getting close.
But they'd needed rest. And he'd needed commo with Nolan.
When Ethan made contact with little brother, he found out Nolan had been busy. Nolan had called up some markers, oiled a few gears. It was because of his contacts at Camp Navarro that they'd had a bead on the tango's entry point into the island in the first place. The Air Force pilots flying out of the base at Zamboanga loved a chance to play outlaw, show off their toys, and indulge in a little unsanctioned extracurricular surveillance.
Their latest gimme—and all hell would break loose if the base commander got wind of it—was last night's midnight flyover in a plane equipped with forward-looking infrared aerial surveillance. Cruising thousands of feet above the island, the monitoring equipment had spotted not only the three of them but also a larger group about six hours ahead of them. Which meant they were on target to close in tomorrow.
That was the good news. The bad news was, in addition to them and the terrorist cell, the infrared technology had also picked up a mass of activity moving in from the base of Bud Tumangtangis.
Ethan dragged a hand over his face before breaking the news to Manny and Dallas. "Tourists and missionaries are abducted on a routine basis and the Philippine government makes noises but no tracks to find them. Seems that when an American embassy employee falls into the mix, however, the military decides to get its ass in gear and hunt them down." He paused, shook his head. "They're heading inland. A full company."
Dallas muttered Ethan's earlier assessment of the situation. Manny stood in silence.
They were so fucked. So was Darcy.
"So if the terrorists don't kill her, she's now in danger of getting caught in the crossfire from the Philippine military who are on a seek-and-destroy operation against Abu Sayyaf."
With a grim nod at Dallas, who now clearly regretted stating the obvious, Ethan stood, to the complaint of his knees. "Let's move."
Ethan kept in shape. He ran. Lifted weights. But it had been years since he'd slogged through a jungle, up and down crevasses and hills, carrying approximately seventy-five to one hundred pounds of combat gear.
"You know, this group might not be our bad guys," Dallas pointed out carefully as they set off, following the trail.
"It's them," Ethan said, and kept on walking. He knew they were on the right track, just like he'd known Darcy was the one the night he met her.
It had always been that way with Darcy. The first time he'd set eyes on her, he'd felt an unexplained connection. It was like a live wire, taut and tingling, had drawn them together.
He felt the same unsettling electric connection now. Felt it on a visceral level. Felt it living in his bones.
"Spread out... three to five meters," he said just loud enough for Manny and Dallas to hear. "And watch your six."
Ethan figured they still had four, maybe five hours before they made visual contact. But there could be trailers in the group and he wanted to make damn sure the three of them spotted any tangos before the tangos spotted them.
He had full confidence in Manny doing just that. Manny was an expert sniper, could pick off a target with the Barrett 82A1 .50-caliber semiautomatic rifle he was carrying at a thousand yards, no problem. How Dallas had come by that premium piece of firepower Ethan could only guess. It was a state-of-the-art weapon with a range of almost two thousand yards— and it was military issue.
Like every other piece of equipment and ordnance "commandeered" for this mission, Ethan didn't really want to know where Dallas had gotten the sniper rifle. The fact was, Ethan already knew everything he needed to know—about himself, about Dallas, and about Manny.
They weren't James Bond. They weren't MacGyver. They couldn't make an explosive device out of an MRE, a flashlight battery, and a little duct tape— although
But they'd needed rest. And he'd needed commo with Nolan.
When Ethan made contact with little brother, he found out Nolan had been busy. Nolan had called up some markers, oiled a few gears. It was because of his contacts at Camp Navarro that they'd had a bead on the tango's entry point into the island in the first place. The Air Force pilots flying out of the base at Zamboanga loved a chance to play outlaw, show off their toys, and indulge in a little unsanctioned extracurricular surveillance.
Their latest gimme—and all hell would break loose if the base commander got wind of it—was last night's midnight flyover in a plane equipped with forward-looking infrared aerial surveillance. Cruising thousands of feet above the island, the monitoring equipment had spotted not only the three of them but also a larger group about six hours ahead of them. Which meant they were on target to close in tomorrow.
That was the good news. The bad news was, in addition to them and the terrorist cell, the infrared technology had also picked up a mass of activity moving in from the base of Bud Tumangtangis.
Ethan dragged a hand over his face before breaking the news to Manny and Dallas. "Tourists and missionaries are abducted on a routine basis and the Philippine government makes noises but no tracks to find them. Seems that when an American embassy employee falls into the mix, however, the military decides to get its ass in gear and hunt them down." He paused, shook his head. "They're heading inland. A full company."
Dallas muttered Ethan's earlier assessment of the situation. Manny stood in silence.
They were so fucked. So was Darcy.
"So if the terrorists don't kill her, she's now in danger of getting caught in the crossfire from the Philippine military who are on a seek-and-destroy operation against Abu Sayyaf."
With a grim nod at Dallas, who now clearly regretted stating the obvious, Ethan stood, to the complaint of his knees. "Let's move."
Ethan kept in shape. He ran. Lifted weights. But it had been years since he'd slogged through a jungle, up and down crevasses and hills, carrying approximately seventy-five to one hundred pounds of combat gear.
"You know, this group might not be our bad guys," Dallas pointed out carefully as they set off, following the trail.
"It's them," Ethan said, and kept on walking. He knew they were on the right track, just like he'd known Darcy was the one the night he met her.
It had always been that way with Darcy. The first time he'd set eyes on her, he'd felt an unexplained connection. It was like a live wire, taut and tingling, had drawn them together.
He felt the same unsettling electric connection now. Felt it on a visceral level. Felt it living in his bones.
"Spread out... three to five meters," he said just loud enough for Manny and Dallas to hear. "And watch your six."
Ethan figured they still had four, maybe five hours before they made visual contact. But there could be trailers in the group and he wanted to make damn sure the three of them spotted any tangos before the tangos spotted them.
He had full confidence in Manny doing just that. Manny was an expert sniper, could pick off a target with the Barrett 82A1 .50-caliber semiautomatic rifle he was carrying at a thousand yards, no problem. How Dallas had come by that premium piece of firepower Ethan could only guess. It was a state-of-the-art weapon with a range of almost two thousand yards— and it was military issue.
Like every other piece of equipment and ordnance "commandeered" for this mission, Ethan didn't really want to know where Dallas had gotten the sniper rifle. The fact was, Ethan already knew everything he needed to know—about himself, about Dallas, and about Manny.
They weren't James Bond. They weren't MacGyver. They couldn't make an explosive device out of an MRE, a flashlight battery, and a little duct tape— although
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