Page 51 of Twister

“Jock up and study the target package and learn to tie the sarong properly.”

“Are we really going to remove our boots, LT?” Twister asked.

“It’s dangerous to go barefoot, so we’re going to wear our swim booties inside our boots. We’ll remove them at the inner courtyard. It’s the best we can do to abide by their custom and stay safe. We leave as soon as it gets dark,” Tex ordered.

After Pedanda Ngurah’s blessing, a wizened old man with gray hair pulled into a topknot, and a long fuzzy beard, wrapped in a full sarong, and a ring on every finger except the thumbs, Twister approached him. “Om Swastiastu. An offering for you.” Twister set the simple lotus leaf and sandstone in the man’s open palm with his right hand.

The priest smiled. “This is a powerful gift. I will cherish it. May you be blessed, warrior, in your life and your endeavors.”He tilted his head, and Twister felt a sensation like soft rain cascade over him. “There is no joy without suffering, no beauty without imperfection, and control is an illusion…only gratitude softens and makes way for love.” He smiled, then said, “You and the one who holds your heart will visit me when you are ready. We will talk.”

Twister could only nod.

A little stunned by the experience, he struggled to understand how that gentle man knew anything about Sadie, or his heart and soul, but then realized there were just some unexplainable things, and trying to control even that much was useless. When he got back to the guys, Dagger asked, “What the hell was that about?”

“Respect…and enlightenment,” Twister said in a simple explanation.

Dagger grinned and fist-bumped him.

The team dropped in by helicopter just over two miles from the target temple just as it began to steadily drizzle. The night was dark, humid, and hot. Dressed in jungle green camo with the sarong around each of their waists, NVGs, and bristling with weapons, they navigated the thick jungle along a narrow path with rice paddies to the left and right on the approach, down some rough-hewn dirt-covered mossy stairs, then having to cross over the quiet waters of a river using a long, single-file wooden bridge.

Below the stream was narrow and shallow with low muddy banks and a thick growth of water weeds and blush pink lotus flowers growing tall from dark green lily pads, the water murky. The rain had stopped, the clouds still thick and gray, giving them cover from the bright full moon.

“This looks like someTomb Raidershit,” Flash murmured.

“Reminds me ofUncharted.” Easy’s voice was pitched low.

They were right. Everything was lush and overgrown, feeling abandoned and lost to nature. Humidity hung in the air like steam, thick and hard to breathe, intensifying the rich green scents of earth and loam.

They continued toward an open gate, sandwiched between two huge stone sentry dragons, their carvings pitted and worn smooth by time. Moss covered each of them, and the stairs cut into a slight incline. These gates were aligned facing away from Agung, welcoming worshippers. Twister felt a tingling along his nerve endings as if there was some type of electricity in the air. He shrugged it off, not losing his focus.

Each man scanned slowly for sentries. The only sounds were the wind and the rush of water from a rock wall into a pool below. This temple was structured with three courtyards—outer, middle, and inner. Basuki was in one of the shrines in the back, the hypocrite. The CIA asset marked the one he was holed up in with red infrared paint, and to Elang’s knowledge, Basuki was armed.

The first courtyard had threebales—one was a drum tower/watchtower, where the village drum was housed, the second larger and longer one with a thatched roof and no walls was a pavilion, and the second one was used to house food and other types of goods during a festival. They passed from the outer courtyard into the second at a crouched fast walk, the Balinese military spreading out for a perimeter watch as the team approached cautiously and quietly.

They passed quickly through the middle courtyard, his teammates clearing thewantilan, a primary meeting hall, apaon bale, a Bali kitchen, and another watchtower to make sure there were no armed Seven Demands followers hiding inside.

When they reached the third courtyard, the inner one calledjeroan, the cockpit of holy energy, Twister irrationally thought he was glad they had the pedanda’s permission. They took turnscovering teammates who removed their boots until all of them were padding silently in their swim booties.

The moment he entered through the third gate, as much as he tried to shrug it off, this weird, strong energy seemed to twine around him. Twister was a man who was rooted in reality, but this place had weight, and it pressed in on him, feeling mystical and old…ancient. He couldn’t explain the feeling, and maybe it was because his whole life seemed to be pivoting three hundred and sixty degrees after meeting Sadie, but it felt like he was coming into contact with a more whole way of being.

He took a hard breath as his teammates started to glow with a mixture of blue and red around them. It shook him down to his toes, and he wondered what the hell it all meant. It struck home to him how faith was a study in trust, that surrendering to a power stronger than he was felt infinitely right. He finally accepted the fact that not everything was in his control, no matter how hard he tried.

Suddenly, that feeling overcame him, and even though he was wielding a weapon with an intent to use it in this holy place, he was at peace. He was where he was meant to be. Infrared not only showed only one warm body, but that he was holed up in thegedong pariman, a very sacred place reserved exclusively so that their god could visit during ceremonies. It was also carved in stone with a multicolored wooden door in different shades of stain. Beside it was the mark they were looking for and would only show up through his NVG scopes. The Hindu symbol that Hitler corrupted for his own use, but in Sanskrit it was an icon of peace—the swastika. It looked nothing like the Third Reich’s emblem, resembling a large number three with a hook behind it, and on top of the hook, a swoop with a dot above.

“His whole following has abandoned him,” their translator said softly. “He is outcast now for what he has done at the airport and for desecration of this sacred ground.” The translator gotcloser, and his lips tightened. “He has renovated this structure and reinforced the door.”

Tex nodded. “Get ready to assault,” he said into the mic. “Dagger?”

Dagger walked to the building and worked his way around it. As their lead assaulter and EOD tech, he would make sure the door or any of the building wasn’t rigged to explode. “It’s all clear from the outside, LT. I can’t vouch for what’s inside.”

“Copy that,” Tex said.

“You think this guy wants to go out like a martyr?”

The translator shrugged. “I would say no. He wants his word heard, and dying would effectively cut that off.”

The team stood at the front door, using only their hands and eyes to indicate the imminent breach. Using an explosive strip, Dagger rigged the door, and Twister and his brothers moved to either side of the frame, then everything seemed to move in slow motion.

Twister was the first one through the door, and he spotted Basuki lunging for a gun. He tackled him, which was something Navy SEALs didn’t do. It was a risky move. If there was a threat, they neutralized it, but Twister didn’t want to spill blood in this holy place.

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