through repetition, his body was no longer as shocked by these near-death experiences.
Rapp's left ear was ringing from all of the shots that had been fired. Whenever possible, he operated with a suppressor. He did so for multiple reasons that included stealth, increased accuracy, and the fact that he didn't want to be deaf by the time he was fifty. Because of the loud reports from all of the gunshots, he almost missed the beeping tone in his right ear that was coming out of his Bose Bluetooth earpiece.
Reaching into his pocket to look at the caller ID seemed like too much effort, so he tapped the button on top of the device and said, "Rapp."
"It's Mike. I just spoke to Scott. We haven't been able to get anyone at the Afghan Police to cooperate, but I'm on my way with some boys from JSOC."
"I hope by chopper."
"Yeah . . . We've got two Black Hawks and two Little Birds."
"ETA?"
There was a long pause, and then, "They're firing up the birds right now. We hope to be airborne in the next sixty seconds. Pilot told me we should be on station two minutes after that. You're not far."
Rapp pushed back from the wall and took a deep breath. He didn't like the silence and suddenly felt the need to see what was going on out on the street. As he moved slowly across the lobby he asked, "Have you guys discussed your ROEs?" Rapp knew this was going to catch Nash off guard. ROEs, or rules of engagement, within the military, and especially Special Operations, were very specific. They outlined who could be engaged and how, and Rapp very much doubted the brass was going to let their shooters come in and open fire on the Afghan Police no matter how fucked up the situation was.
"No, we haven't."
"Let me save you guys the headache of trying to sort this mess out. We have police at both ends of the street. My guess is when you guys show up they're going to think you're here to help them. Hopefully they'll stop shooting. Put the Black Hawks over them and hit 'em with the rotor wash and then bring the Little Birds in to pick us up on the roof. I don't think they'll shoot at you, but I can't make any promises."
"I'll pass it along. Anything else?"
"Yeah. If I don't make it out of here, there's something you need to know. Does the name Louie Gould ring a bell?"
There was a moment of silence followed by, "The man who killed your wife?"
"That's him. Somebody hired him a few weeks ago to fulfill a contract in Kabul. He says he didn't know it was me until this morning. He was set up in an office building across the street and was supposed to shoot me when I showed up to see the vet."
"How the hell . . ."
"Exactly . . . do you want to tell me how the fuck somebody knew two weeks ago that I would be in Kabul talking to this vet when I didn't even know I'd fucking be here?"
"I have no idea, but no more of this bullshit about not making it. We'll be there in minutes, and after I pull your ass out of the fire again, we'll figure out what in the hell is going on."
"I'll tell you what in the hell is going on. Somebody set my ass up. Rick was the first domino and they knew how we would react. We're being played." Rapp carefully moved along the wall until he was just a few feet from the blown-out entrance.
"Is Gould still with you?"
"Yeah, he's on the roof." The only police that Rapp could see were taking cover behind their vehicles. "Did Scott tell you we lost Reavers?"
"Yeah. I'm sorry about that."
Rapp flexed his knees and then stuck his head out so he could see down the length of the front of the building. He ducked back just as a flurry of shots rang out. What he saw scared him more than the shots. "Mike," Rapp yelled as he hustled across the lobby, "they're getting ready to rush the building with riot shields. You guys better haul ass or there's going to be no one left to save."
"We're getting in the birds right now. Hold on for a few more minutes."
Rapp didn't bother to answer. He moved in behind his piece of Formica and switched his pistol to his right hand. He counted