Tom Clancy's op-center_ acts of war - Tom Clancy [157]
The six A-Team Strikers regrouped on either side of the cave. They all watched the colonel as he held his hand face-high, palm-forward. An instant later he dropped it. The first two Strikers on either side of the cave tossed flares, then moved in behind them. They hugged the inside wall as the next two Strikers moved in behind them.
The flares revealed five choking Kurds sprawled beneath a thin blanket of neo-phosgene. As the first two Strikers fired short, high bursts into the dying light, the two Strikers behind them moved in to cuff the enemy personnel. Once they'd been taken, the last group of two moved in to drag the prisoners out. When that was done, the two lead Strikers tossed neo-phosgene grenades ahead of them. As they exploded with a dull hiss, the Strikers threw in additional flares and repeated the maneuver.
Outside the cave, Prementine looked at his watch. The Tomahawk was due in seven minutes. He sought out August at the bottom of the slope and held up seven fingers.
August nodded.
Then he held up four fingers.
August nodded again.
Prementine looked at his companion. "We've got four minutes to get in and get the prisoners out." He pointed to the gun. "Use that if you have to. I want my people out of there."
"So do I," said Falah as he started toward the cave.
* * *
FIFTY-SIX
Tuesday, 3:55 p.m.,
the Bekaa Valley, Lebanon
Mike Rodgers was standing in the eight-foot-deep prison pit. He stood with his arms stretched above him, his fingers wrapped through the checkerboard grate. That was the only way he could prevent the burns up and down his arms from touching the burns along his sides. As it was, the salty trickle of sweat caused pain which made Rodgers's entire body shake.
Colonel Seden was in the pit beside him. The Turkish officer was awake but in pain. Private DeVonne had been feeding him rice and water until she, Coffey, and Private Pupshaw had been taken away. Except for an occasional moan from Seden and the nervous gum-chewing of the guard, the prison area was quiet.
Rodgers wished he knew why the others had been taken away. He suspected that they had been brought to the ROC. That bastard Phil Katzen must have turned it on and told the Kurds all that he knew about its operation. Then they'd brought out Mary Rose to force her to talk. Rodgers thought he'd heard a gunshot when they had her out there. He hoped they hadn't murdered the poor woman as an object lesson before bringing out the others. He hoped that almost as much as he hoped that the Kurdish commander remained alive until he could kill him.
Rodgers distracted himself by pushing his palms up against the grate to test it. It was unyielding. He poked a finger through the mesh fence that lined the pit, and dug at the dirt beneath the grate. The chicken wire didn't allow him to push his finger very far, and he gave up.
Then the shells exploded outside the cave. Rodgers stood there, listening. He thought he recognized the distinctive pop of Striker's NQ-doubleB--the Not Quite Big Bertha, their nickname for the compact cannon--but he couldn't be sure. The blast was followed by shouts from the front of the cave and from the sleeping quarters.
As he listened to the commotion, Rodgers took his hands from the grate. He stood unsteadily.
"Colonel Seden," Rodgers said, abandoning any pretense about their real identities. "Colonel, can you hear me?"
The colonel didn't answer. But neither did the guard. The fact that he hadn't told Rodgers to be quiet indicated that something unexpected had happened. Rodgers listened closely for a moment. He