Page 10 of Hot & Heavy

Ian had an assault rifle in a sling over one shoulder, a Beretta handgun in a low-slung holster on his thigh, and a K-Bar knife in his boot. They all carried two sets of flexible plastic handcuffs to secure their prisoners… a bit of optimism there. JAM, their sharpshooter, also carried an MK11 which could take a tango out at one thousand yards. And, of course, they all wore assault vests and hard body armor.

Ian looked over each of his men. Satisfied that they were as prepared as they were going to be, he said,

"Okay, let's party! Go, go, go!"

With those words and a directional signal from Geek, who had a compass and GPS in hand, they moved off silently toward their target zone five miles away, where they were to find the terrorists, take them by surprise, and capture and secure them for the extraction to Baghdad for interrogation. In the most successful military operation, no shot was fired. Ian could only hope that would be the case this time, but reality suggested that lethal force would be necessary.

They progressed in "leapfrog" movements, whereby two SEALs alternately covered each other's advance… one crouched and covering his partner till he moved forward, and the second took his turn.

Ian was up front, leading the way.

They were silent as shadows, barely discernible even to themselves. Every item of gear on their bodies had been taped down or padded. Not a sound could be heard. Not the crunch of their boots underfoot.

Not the rustle of clothing. Not even breathing. SEALs were so attuned to each other that they even knew each other's scent.

When they'd traveled about a half mile, Ian stopped and put up a halting hand. His men looked at him.

"Some movement up that hill. I'll go check," he said softly into his throat mike. "Go ahead. I'll catch up."

It was probably just a small animal, but just in case, he pulled the safety off his weapon, ready to fire if necessary.

"You sure I shouldn't go?" his partner, Cage, asked.

Ian thought a moment. A squad leader really shouldn't leave his men, but they were far from the target zone and unlikely to meet any tangos in this kind of terrain. "Okay, you stand watch down here. Don't come up unless I direct you to."

Cage nodded.

"JAM, you take over till I catch up."

"Roger," JAM replied.

When his other men were out of sight, gone about ten minutes, he spoke softly into his headset, "Any problems?"

"Negative," someone answered. Sounded like Sly.

"Nothing here, either," Cage said.

Ian crept up the hill slowly, hiding behind a bush every couple steps to inspect the area. Nothing. But wait. That looked like a cave up there. Into his mike, he whispered again, "Cave. Going in."

"Watch your back," Cage whispered back.

Stepping into the dimness of the silent cave, Ian made sure the safety was still released on his rifle. Too late he sensed a presence behind him at the cave opening. He glanced over his shoulder and saw a figure in a long robe with a rock raised high in two arms. A woman! Surprise… the enemy of any soldier…

caused him to hesitate. A huge mistake. Pain hit him in the back of the head like a hammer to the skull, and he fell forward to the ground.

After that, there was only blackness.

Chapter Three

Playing possum…

Ian blacked out for only a second, but he remained still, flat on his stomach, arms stretched forward, one hand holding his assault rifle. He deliberately kept his eyes closed to bare slits.

He waited while the woman circled him tentatively, checking for signs of life, he would guess. First, she toed him in the side to see if he would move, which he didn't. Then the nutcase pinched his buttock… as if that would cause him to move. He barely felt a thing.

He'd only got a brief glimpse of her before being struck, but, man, she was some kind of wild thing. She would scare the bejesus out of someone in the dark, for sure. Plus, she reeked to high heaven.

He could easily jump her now, but decided to wait and see what she was up to. More important, who she was, out here in the middle of Arab nowhere.