Page 10 of Red Line

“We need to make sure we’re not caught.”

Red could almost hear the shrug in Grey’s words.Let’s make sure we’re not caught.“Yeah, let’s work that plan.” Red rolled her eyes.

“It’s not ideal,” Grey said. “I agree. But looking at the map, it’s the best of the not-good options. We have to have come in from somewhere. Proximity-wise, it has to be from the southwest.

Red cupped her forehead, hoping the gesture would help her to focus her thoughts. This intel was about to put American military lives on the line. She didn’t have the same special operations tactical skill sets that her colleagues had in their timelines. Sure, she’d sat next to decision-makers as they spun up missions. She’d provided her details and her assessment. But in those instances, the U.S. was mandated to be in country. This was operating on foreign soil without that government's agreement or even knowledge, in an area peppered with violent factions.

“And as to the close protection duty. Without going into details,” Grey continued, “the timing is good to put the representatives on their plane safely and pivot for a night maneuver. That base in eastern Türkiye is for cargo. We’d have to bring in an appropriate plane and pilot. I’ve been entering data into the system. The calculations show, obviously, that window is tight. But I think it's doable if we act as if—while waiting for the various stakeholder lights to flash green.”

“They’d need to drop in,” Black said.

“Looking at this map,” Grey said, “I don’t see any other way. A HAHO could put them down in a desert area close to aroad. It's a new moon, so that runs in our favor. Echo has K9 Rory with them, also a bonus.”

Personally, Red preferred a half-moon, enough light to see the hole before she stepped in it, but she also wouldn’t stand out against the horizon the way it can happen when it was full.

“Grey, do you have anyone that could deliver a vehicle?” Black asked.

“I have people in the city,” Grey said. “I can work that out.”

“No one who could just grab Poole and hold him for us?” Red asked.

“No. That would take more time to develop than we have. Positioning a vehicle is something I can swing.”

“And from there?” Black asked.

“If they land in the desert area to the south of the lake—depending on how close they come to their X—they might have a hike,” Grey said. “Low winds, at least for the next twenty-four hours, so they should be able to get on target. From the desert area to the compound at the GPS coordinate, that’s an hour on the road. The residence is rural, but, looking at this satellite map, it’s just on the outskirts of the city. If the family called for help, help wouldn’t be far.”

“That’s the grab. What does the extraction look like?” Red asked.

“Well,” Grey paused. “Okay, we have a sub off the coast of Cyprus that we can move closer,” Grey continued. “If the team can head to the coast—”

“Split the team,” Black said. “One goes after our boy, and the other sits over the horizon with an inflatable boat. When they make contact, the boat picks them up and heads to sea. The sub pops up and loads them on. The timing is tight. A boat extraction would have to happen in the dark. The Navy won’t surface that sub when it can be seen over a satellite.”

“But once Echo has their hands on Poole, they have a lot more flexibility with timing,” Grey pointed out. “They could lay low until the next night. Once on the sub, the Navy throws Poole in the brig until we can get him in front of the right people.”

“Sounds like a cakewalk,” Red said dryly. There was so much that could go wrong with that scenario. And she was ultimately responsible. She vouched for the information on the white paper, risking Delta Force lives and American diplomacy. “Is it possible to do that before the population is awake and paying attention?”

“If everything goes textbook? Yes,” Grey said.

“Here we go, I have a report from the Pentagon,” Black said, followed by a long pause. “Army Sgt. Daniel Owen Poole does, in fact, exist. He took ten days of leave and has failed to check in. He’s a day overdue. Poole holds top-secret clearance. And as part of his duties, he has access to a broad array of information. He could have passed on intel ranging from our advanced weapons systems to operational plans. Red.”

Red released the mute button. “Yes?” she gasped.

“Your asset has earned his pay,” Black said. “I’ll work the phones and get the authorizations from all the stakeholders, looping DIA into the mix. Grey, you and I will coordinate on the mission. It might be a long shot that we can grab him, but this looks like our best chance at getting the information in time to act. Well done, Red.”

She offered a weak, “Thank you, sir. Listen, from this point, I’m going to be useless. Less than useless. I’m going to give my asset a pat on the head. Then I’m going to go to bed until I can purge whatever the hell this is from my system.”

“Do you need support?” Grey asked.

“I’m popping all the meds. I should be fine in a day or two. Tell Delta Force not to drink the water,” she said, her phone balanced on her bare thigh as she tore Moussa’s intelligenceinto tiny pieces. Pulling a plastic container from the money bag, she added the pieces to the solution and watched the paper disintegrate into a mucous blob.

After hanging up with her teammates, Red toppled forward and was now on her knees on the floor. She thought she might be wrong about having some virus or bacterial infection. Maybe this was appendicitis. Maybe her appendix was about to burst, and she’d die here with her bare ass in the air.

There was a local hospital, such as it was. Although she wasn’t sure she trusted they could keep her alive. She pressed her abdomen to see if she was being paranoid. She couldn’t tell the difference. Everything hurt before she pressed, and it hurt after she pressed.

Was the pain mildly worse, and did it last a little longer under pressure? Maybe.

Red formulated a new plan: Hand the money to Moussa, flag one of the local cars outside the hotel that offered rides for hire, and head to the hospital.

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