Tom Clancy's op-center_ acts of war - Tom Clancy [148]
Hood shut his eyes. He said a mental good-bye to his family. Saliva had collected in his throat. He wished he could swallow, but the pressure from the gun barrel was preventing it. Not that it mattered. In a moment he would never again swallow or smile or close tired eyes or dream--
A shot cracked along the corridor and Hood started. He heard groaning and opened his eyes. The man who'd been standing in front of him was on the floor, holding his left thigh. As Hood watched in shock, the other two men went down. Bullets had punched ugly holes in their legs and lower back. Both men were dead.
Hood looked down the hallway and saw the band of ragtag Syrians striding forward. They were a wall of guns, and multicolored robes and intense expressions. As Hood stood there, surprised to be alive and uncertain what to do, the Kurdish leader froze. His men stopped behind him. They were just a few steps away from the door of the reception room. The leader looked at his three fallen soldiers, then turned and began screaming at the Syrians.
Ignored for a moment, Hood ducked back into the security office. Even as he stepped inside, he kicked himself for not thinking to grab one of the fallen men's guns. But it was too late for that, and at least he was alive. Like they used to say in the stock market, bears and bulls can prosper. Pigs don't.
Hood grabbed the phone. "Warner, are you there?"
"Of course!" Bicking said. "What's happening?"
"I'm not sure," Hood said. "Some of those soldiers were just shot by Syrians."
"Great--"
"It may be," Hood said. "I still don't think they were here to help us. Can you hear what the leader's saying?"
"Hold on," said Bicking. "Let me get closer." A moment later Bicking came back. "Paul? His name is Mahmoud al-Rashid and he wants to know what the Syrians are doing. Apparently he'd already told them he was a Kurdish leader, not a Syrian Army regular."
"What did the Syrians say?"
"Nothing," Bicking replied.
Hood looked at the monitor. "Warner, I've got a feeling those Syrians didn't mistake the Kurds for soldiers. I think they knew exactly who they were."
Mahmoud shouted again.
"What's he saying now?" Hood asked.
"He's ordering the men to identify themselves," Bicking said. "He also wants them to take care of the men they shot."
Hood's heart began to beat faster as he watched the screen. "Mahmoud's raising his gun," he said. "Warner, I'll bet my life they're not with him."
"Maybe they're presidential security forces," Bicking said. "Those guys are long overdue."
"I don't know," Hood said. "Listen, Warner. Get back to Op-Center and tell them what's happening. See if they know anything about an undercover counterstrike.
"Wouldn't they have told me?"
"Not on an open line," Hood said. "Security won't matter now."
Mahmoud stopped talking. There was a very short silence, and then the Syrians suddenly fell back a few paces. They opened fire, shooting as one at the main body of Mahmoud's group.
"Shit!" Bicking screamed into the phone. "Paul, I can't hear anything! Too much noise!"
Several of Mahmoud's men fell before they could returrn fire. Mahmoud himself was unable to shoot because his men were in the way. Instead, he motioned the surviving members of his group back. As they ran around him he covered their retreat, driving the Syrians back with a waist-high burst of fire. A few were knocked back, but must have been wearing bullet-proof vests. They got back up again. Mahmoud, however, was not wearing a vest. He appeared to take several bullets before turning and hobbling toward the reception room. As soon as he'd turned, the shooting stopped. The Syrians rushed forward again.
When it was quiet, Hood got back on the phone. "Warner, forget about Op-Center. Get to cover. The Kurds'll be there in a second!"
There was no answer.
"Warner, do it now!" Hood said. "Warner, do you hear me?"
"I hear you," he said. "But maybe there's something