Page 64 of Clive Cussler Ghost Soldier

“Don’t you have other operators at your disposal?”

Max rubbed his chin. He fully understood the strategic significance of the Vendor’s operations, but his first responsibility was to theOregonand its crew and especially to Juan, his best friend. He couldn’t abandon Juan and Linc for the sake of thepossibilityof uncovering the Vendor’s operation in Kosovo. Juan and Linc were on a mission to do precisely that.

But what if their trip to KL really was a wild-goose chase?

Equally important, Max hated to dilute the spec ops team. Peeling off more of them to Kosovo meant the remaining fighters might have to do more with less in a gunfight to save Linc and Juan.

What would Juan do?

“Tell you what, Lang. I’ll ask for two volunteers for the mission.”

“Fair enough. I’ll forward all the intel I have. Please keep me posted.”

“Will do.”

?

TheOregon’s team room was an eclectic mix of couches, blackboards, unit flags, and wall monitors. It was the place the ship’s special operators congregated for mission briefings and debriefings—or just to hang out. All of theOregon’s crew were hand-selected specialists in their respective fields, but the pipe hitters were a breed apart—a fraternity of violence executed up close and personal. Max always supposed that was the reason the team room looked more like a frat house media den than an actual office space.

He had called them all together to brief the mission. Eddie Seng, the director of shore operations, was there. So was MacD, Linda Ross,and Raven Malloy, the newest member of the Gundogs. A West Point graduate, Malloy’s mixed Native American heritage and facility in both Farsi and Arabic served her well on two tours of combat-decorated duty in Afghanistan as a U.S. Army investigator.

Gomez Adams was draped over one of the couches like an abandoned beach towel.

Max stood at the head of the room. A map of Kosovo displayed on the monitor. He explained the situation on the ground and what was at stake. He also laid that against the mission Juan and Linc were on and the need to back them up.

“I need to add that Overholt doesn’t want us pouring gasoline on the fire over there. It’s black in, black out. We’re just looking for intel, not a body count. That means guns are secured unless fired upon. Clear?”

Heads nodded.

“So, I’m looking for two volunteers. If you don’t feel it, don’t sweat it.”

“Where in Kosovo, exactly?” Linda asked.

Max drew a red circle around a city with the tip of his finger.

“Up north. Above this place called Mitrovica.”

Raven’s hand shot up.

“You served with KFOR before Afghanistan, didn’t you?” Eddie asked.

”That’s right,” she replied. Her lustrous black hair was pulled into a French braid thick as a hawser. “I served with the MSU based in Mitrovica years ago. I know the place and some of the players pretty well.”

“Excellent. Anybody else?”

MacD raised his hand. “I’ll tag along. Always wanted to see that part of the world.”

“Then we have our team,” Max said. “Eddie, let’s the four of us have a sit-down and lay out the particulars. The rest of you are dismissed.”

The others shuffled out of the room as the four sat down around a desk shoved into the corner. Eddie pulled up a map on the deskmonitor and they all got to work planning out the mission. Raven’s experience in the area provided critical input, but in truth it was all a shot in the dark without more intel on the ground.

As always, theOregon’s Gundogs would have to improvise. That wasn’t a problem. It was their most formidable weapon, taught to them by the master of the art himself, Juan Cabrillo.

33

Pristina, Kosovo

The smallish, two-story building at the Film City base for the Kosovo Force was very modest by NATO standards. The camp’s odd name was a leftover from an aborted intent to establish a Yugoslavian version of Hollywood at the site. MacD eyed the unremarkable building and supposed its occupants tried to make up for its diminutive stature with the Trump Tower–styled gold letters announcement over the entrance:Headquarters Kosovo Force. A light rain filled the air with the musty, mineral smell of wet pavement.