Page 122 of The 9th Man

“What do you think?” he asked.

“It’s defensible, but it’s also a bad-guy magnet. But that’s the point, isn’t it?”

He nodded. “While they’re banging their heads against your wall, I’ll be doing my best to make their lives hell.”

He hoped to use the maze-like layout and exterior shacks to his advantage, sniping from cover then changing positions before Talley’s men could reorient themselves. They’d gained an advantage by arriving first.

She glanced at the ceiling.

He heard it too.

Rotors.

Helo approaching.

The sound grew louder and louder, the engine warbled as though under heavy strain.

“The wind must be hellish out there,” he said. “The shape of this ravine makes it an updraft funnel.”

After about thirty seconds the chopper pulled off and the engine faded into the distance.

“Our guests have arrived,” she said.

***

TALLEY STOOD BACK OUT IN THE COLD.

“Bravo One this is Bravo Five, come in.”

The sentry he’d left back at Eckstein’scabin.

“I’ve got the intel you wanted,” his man said. “The structures are part of an old mining camp called Ishawooa Creek. I found some pics on a hiker’s blog. The images aren’t great but it looks like it sits on about three acres. Five large buildings and about a dozen smaller outbuildings, connected by covered pathways. I’m sending pics to your sat-phone now.”

Luck favors the prepared, he thought.

In the middle of nowhere Luke Daniels had managed to find what was every soldier’s nightmare—a complex and unknowable urban landscape. By now he and Stein would have already familiarized themselves with the locale. Not only would Daniels manipulate the interior and the access points to maximum advantage, he’d also remove any advantages available to attackers. Rangers excelled at taking and holding ground.

That left Talley with two choices.

One, a simultaneous attack from all sides. Or two, blast open their own entrance and run an overpowering sweep-and-clear of each building. Either way, Daniels would have already established a last-stand position, a fatal funnel into which his men would have no choice but to step.

Should he have expected anything less?

Not at all.

He’d discovered the depth of Daniels’ resourcefulness back in Afghanistan on Celam Kae. He’d been counting on a repeat and had not been disappointed.

Talley’s phone beeped. He scrolled through the pictures then asked, “Any details on the mine itself?”

“Best I can tell there’s just one entrance beneath a big angular building against the north side cliff.”

“I appreciate the intel,” he said into his mouthpiece, then signed off.

He turned to his men. “Let’s go.”

“Eyes or bullets?” one asked.

Did he want them to conduct a visual-only reconnaissance or a reconnaissance-by-fire, essentially firing upon a suspected position in the hope of determining its strength and disposition? A sensible tactical question with only one right answer. Daniels wasn’t going to give up his secrets because of a few incoming rounds. Further, he was unsure how any of this was going to play out, so he erred on the side of caution.

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