“Gun!” and fired multiple rounds through the windshield, killing the man instantly.
The ISI driver tried to unholster his weapon, but Sloane was already at his window and fired two shots at his head, shattering the glass and killing him.
When the fighter in the backseat on the passenger side made himself known, Chase had almost been on top of him. The man didn’t wait to get the door all the way open before firing. He sent heavy 7.62 rounds from his AK-47 slicing right through the door panel. Chase had to lunge between two parked cars to take cover and avoid being hit. Had they not been taking such great pains to make sure Yaqub didn’t get shot, he would have fired and nailed the guy.
The Waziristani fighter had been trained well and took advantage of Chase’s predicament to keep firing and move to cover. Gunfights were louder than most people realized and the reports from the AK-47 were deafening.
The man had Chase pinned down and was about to fire at Sloane when Harvath appeared. He had maneuvered behind the burning follow car and, taking aim, pressed his trigger.
There was a spray of blood, accompanied by an explosion of bone and brain matter as the rounds entered the back of the man’s head and blew out an eye, teeth, and half of his face. He looked like he’d been hit with a missile.
Harvath picked his way forward, using a parked car for concealment. He couldn’t see Yaqub. He assumed he was crouched in the backseat and likely armed. “Hands up!” he yelled in Arabic.
Yaqub didn’t comply.
Harvath fired a three-round burst through the rear window, showering the backseat with broken glass. He then yelled his command in Arabic again.
Slowly, Yaqub sat up and raised his hands.
Keeping his weapon trained at the man’s head, Harvath approached the rear passenger door. He nodded at Sloane, who slung her MP7 and transitioned to her Glock. Removing her flashlight, she sent a blinding beam of light into Yaqub’s eyes, illuminating the entire backseat.
“Gun!” she shouted. “On his lap!”
Chase repeated in Arabic for Yaqub to keep his hands up. “Raweenee edeek. Raweenee edeek!”
Slinging his MP7, Harvath said, “If he moves, kill him.”
Both operatives nodded.
In Yaqub’s lap Harvath saw a 9mm Beretta pistol. Keeping his eyes on Yaqub and his hands, Harvath reached through the shattered driver’s window, unlocked and then slowly opened the rear passenger door. Yaqub never moved.
Fixing him with his gaze, Harvath reached in and retrieved the weapon. Making sure it was on safe, he tucked it into his waistband at the small of his back and ordered in Arabic, “Get out of the car. Do it now!”
Slowly, Yaqub complied.
He was big and ugly. While Harvath stood five-foot-ten, Yaqub was at least two inches taller. It looked like the doctor had delivered him with ice tongs. His face was a roadmap of pockmarks and scars.
Harvath spun him around, bent him over the trunk, and patted him down. He found the Arab’s cell phone and tossed it to Chase. Police klaxons could be heard in the distance.
Removing a pair of FlexiCuffs, some duct tape, and a black hood from his pocket, he told Sloane and Chase, “Secure everything. We’re out of here in forty-five seconds.”
After securing Yaqub’s wrists behind his back, he stood him up and turned him around. “Do you know who I am?” he asked in Arabic.
The terrorist studied him for a moment and then responded in English. “A dead man.”
Harvath smiled. “Wrong,” he said, before whipping his head forward. There was a crack of cartilage and a spray of blood as he shattered the man’s crooked beak of a nose.
The Saudi’s knees went weak as a wave of agony swept through his body.
Harvath held on and steadied him. As he did, he leaned forward and whispered into his ear, “I’m the Angel of Death, and I’m taking you back to hell where you belong.”
CHAPTER 5
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The USS Florida was an Ohio-class ballistic missile submarine just off the Pakistani coast. Fitted behind its sail structure, piggyback style, was a pressurized garage called a dry deck shelter, or DDS for short. It was capable of launching not only SEAL Delivery Vehicles, but also the SEALs’ fast, highly maneuverable inflatable Zodiac boats known as combat rubber raiding craft, or CRRCs. These boats could be launched or recovered regardless of whether the Florida was on or beneath the surface.
Harvath would have loved to have brought Ahmad Yaqub aboard the Florida via a subsurface recovery.