Page 99 of Clive Cussler Ghost Soldier

The Yari drone fixed on the building at the first alert of the surveillance drone. Its computer brain was linked by swarming algorithms to every other drone in the network including both surveillance and attack drones in the air and on the ground. Like every other model oflethal drone in the network, it flew fully armed, and now that the surveillance drone had confirmed its target, the drone’s AI-powered controller gave it the ability to make an attack decision independent of Rahul’s command.

When the second, clearer image of the Nigerian appeared on the attack drone’s image sensor, the AI-networked brain engaged in a series of precise mathematical calculations predicting the location of the merc as he entered the room. The drone could have done this even if the Nigerian were no longer visible, but the fact that he’d dashed into a room with a large and glassless window made its task just that much simpler.

The Yari’s display put a red target reticle on the running Nigerian. Just as the big man reached the flag, the drone plunged through the window and erupted.

?

Rahul grinned with delight as he watched the attack drone’s first-person video image fly into the Nigerian’s broad back. The crystal clear video turned to snow when it exploded. Of course, there was no audio of the blast, but Rahul didn’t need one. The crack of the explosion echoed in the distance just moments later. A second explosion followed within the span of a heartbeat.

Rahul rewound the attack footage on his display and let it play through one more time. He wanted to know if the Nigerian had secured the flag.

But the Nigerian’s body blocked the view of the flag before the explosion and his wrist device was turned away from the camera. It wasn’t at all clear if the Nigerian had succeeded in capturing the flag.

But there was no doubt whatsoever that he was the first pawn wiped off the board.

?

“Did you see that?” Juan whispered, his eye fixed to his spotter’s scope.

“Looked like a couple of drones took him out.” Linc had observedthe action through his rifle scope. He checked his watch map. There were only nine flags left. “At least he got his flag.”

“I think that’s an example of ‘Other than that, Mrs. Lincoln, how was the play?’ ”

“You know my mother’s name was Mrs. Lincoln, right?”

“It never gets old.”

“You’d be surprised.”

Linc scanned the sky for more drones.

“At least we know what we’re up against.” Linc’s view was partially blocked by the umbrella-shaped canopies of the towering acacia trees high overhead. He didn’t mind that his vision was obscured, since it was those leaves that also kept them from being seen—and no doubt had saved their lives.

“Why not just stay here? We could let the other mercs assume we’re dead.”

“No doubt, but I’m not sure that’s our best bet.”

“How so?”

“First off, the mercs won’t know we’re alive, but the Vendor will—he’s tracking our vital signs, remember? He might get suspicious if we stay put. Might even send someone our way.”

“Even during the test?”

“Maybe, maybe not. If the others are all dead, though, he certainly will. Remember? He said anyone still alive after forty-eight hours and with flags on the board would be killed.”

“So you’re saying we should go after the flags?”

Juan grinned. “You always could read my mind. Our best shot at surviving this thing is getting all ten flags, and the best chance we have of doing that is teaming up with the others. But there’s an even better reason.”

“Which is?”

“If we don’t rally with the others, there’s a better than even chance those guys will get killed off—and that means the Vendor wins. And that’s something I can’t stomach.”

Linc nodded. “If we win the game, the Vendor loses—and loses his contracts with his clients. Yeah, I like that.”

“More importantly, our job is still to get the Vendor. If he wins quickly, he’ll likely take off. But if he loses, he’ll hang around to assess the damage and try and figure out what went wrong. He might even hang around long enough for theOregonto get here and then we can snatch him.”

“There’s one big, ginormous fly swimming in the ointment of your infallible reasoning,” Linc said.