Hemingway - Zoe Dawson Page 0,8

to use force to subdue them. The more we bring in alive, the more chances we have of discovering if the rumor about the NWO inserting terrorists into the current BUD/S class is true,” Mak added.

“Hoo-yah,” his teammates said softly behind him. He concurred. Anything to protect the men who would eventually fill out their ranks and become their brothers.

“We’ll take this side. Your REACT team will go to the back of the compound and neutralize the guards there, then we’ll assault the barracks. Stealth is our friend. The quieter we subdue, the fewer combatants we’ll have to engage in a firefight,” Fast Lane said.

“Copy that,” Nick said, then with precision they started to move out.

Max looked toward the compound, the REACT agents melting into the forest. The NWO had cleared the land around the fence to minimize cover, the darkness their only camouflage. There was nothing on either side of the complex, just tangled and twisted forest.

“2-Stroke, fence,” Fast Lane said. His teammate pulled out wire cutters and snipped the chain link, making a hole for them to slip through. “Pitbull and Dragon, guards.” Inside the compound, they moved at a clip toward the first small barracks. Pitbull and Dragon veered off, disappearing into the gloom. As Max advanced, Mak moved to his right, as his remaining teammates moved quickly behind them.

“Two guards down,” Pitbull said, his deep voice gone to a rumble through the mics.

“Copy that,” Fast Lane responded. “We’re heading in.”

Ahead, the barracks were dark and there was no movement anywhere. He felt rather than saw Mak beside him and kept up with her as she rushed ahead, taking a position for the next advance.

They reached the building, staying low at the windows and glancing inside. Max stopped at the entrance, Jugs pulling at the leash. Max pointed to his eyes, then the window. 2-Stroke made a cutting motion across his throat to indicate there was no movement. They breached the door, rushing to the five cots and silently restraining the five men inside, gagging them before they could shout a warning.

They checked the rest of the room, then stepped back out into the dark.

“Forward guards neutralized,” Pitbull said.

“Three rear guards down, searching for fourth,” Nick reported.

They cleared two more barracks. With three down, they only had two left. Moving toward the rear of the compound, a round cracked the night. Lights came on in the two-remaining barracks as the men inside scrambled toward weapons.

“The Fuck Up Fairy in all her magical glory,” Max growled as he, Mak and the team picked off the two NWO members who came through the door. The sound of breaking glass tinkled through the night and muzzles flashed as the lights were doused and bullets peppered all around them.

“Max, Mak, Dodger, work your way around. More gunfire erupted near the last cabin and toward the back of the compound.

“Guard is entrenched,” Nick said over the radio. “He has us pinned down with a fifty cal.”

“Dragon?”

“On it,” his teammate responded. “Pitbull is heading your way.”

Max, Mak and Dodger were already moving toward the REACT team’s location when out of nowhere Max saw movement to his right. The glint of a weapon barely registered as he threw himself forward toward Mak who was advancing just ahead of him. As soon as he released the leash, he gave Jugs the command to attack.

A line of bullets sliced across Max’s position and impacted his vest across his back, knocking the wind out of him, so when the pain screamed through him just below his armpit, he barely had enough air left to gasp. They hit the ground, and Mak cried out, but without hesitation, Max reached for his sidearm, pulling it from the holster as he rolled to his back, and pulled off four shots. The guy with the automatic flew back, the spray of bullets arching into the air until his back hit the ground and he lay still. As the guy behind them took aim, sixty pounds of tenacious Malinois slammed into him. The tango’s screams and Jug’s growls filled the night, mixing in with the automatic gunfire.

Juggernaut was aptly named. He was a hairy rocket with a brain, and like his handler and the team, he had the same temperament—never quit. Jugs had that inner fire that set him apart from not only his breed, but his species. He had enthusiasm and tenacity in spades. There was no way that guy was going to get off another shot with Jugs clamped to