DEADLY DILEMMA by Dan Stratman (free ebook reader for iphone TXT) 📕

kidnapped, and scumbag drug lords in Mexico who would pay top dollar for a bodyguard with his skills.

They would consider him just another knuckle-dragging goon, but the money would help him overlook their condescending, misinformed judgment. His new life would allow him to stay in the game and finally live the lavish lifestyle he was entitled to after all he’d sacrificed. Still, knowing how many people were going to die today gnawed at his conscience—what little he had left of it.

Compartmentalizing the emotional fallout from what he was about to do was Pierce’s way of living with his homicidal plan.

The major shook off thoughts about the course of his immediate future and snapped back to the task at hand. Growing impatient with the delay, he called out, “Times up, Stafford! Come out with your hands on your head!”

He listened for her reply.

No response came.

“Now, Stafford!”

Silence greeted his vehement demand.

Pierce strapped on his helmet and lowered the NVGs. He fired two rounds from his Glock 17 into the opening to get her attention. “Last chance, Captain. Come out or die.”

Still no response.

Pierce signaled Lopez to ready a grenade.

He pulled back a strip of Velcro on his vest covering a fragmentation grenade.

Pierce shook his head. “Use a flash-bang. I don’t want to destroy the launch console.”

Lopez switched to the less lethal weapon.

Pierce pointed at the opening and nodded.

His teammate pulled the safety pin, crept out into the hallway, and rolled the grenade down the middle of the floor like a bowling ball.

Because of its irregular shape, the M84 stun grenade skipped and bounced down the hallway in a haphazard path. When it disappeared through the opening, Lopez dove for cover and covered the lenses of his NVGs.

The grenade went off with a deafening 180 decibels of sound and eight million candelas of blinding light. The cacophonous explosion was amplified even more when it echoed off the solid walls and ceiling.

Smoke billowed out of the opening.

Pierce and Lopez crouched low and hugged the walls as they moved forward. Halfway to the LCC they reached the corpses of their fallen comrades. A pool of dark crimson liquid was slowly spreading across the hallway. Still pointing their rifles at the LCC, they rolled the bodies over. Shrapnel from the extinguisher tank had shredded every area of exposed skin. Razor-sharp pieces had severed arteries and pierced vital organs. The men’s faces were so mangled, if it weren’t for the obvious difference in skin color, identifying them would have been nearly impossible.

After all the times they’d cheated death in the worst Third World hellholes there are, O’Brian and Jackson had quietly bled out and died in a dark, dank dungeon controlled by their own country.

Pierce took spare magazines off the men and left their bodies where they lay.

The surviving members of the team stood and tucked themselves against the outside of the blast door. Pierce did a quick glance into the LCC and scanned the room with his NVGs. Not seeing any movement, he waved Lopez forward.

Guns raised, they hurried into the LCC. The men spread apart as much as feasible in the small space. To avoid tunnel vision and vertigo, the operators rotated their heads slowly while they scanned the room with their NVGs.

Lopez searched the gaps between computer cabinets, under the desk, and next to the toilet.

Pierce ripped the curtain and its rod away from the bunk. It was empty. He turned and whispered, “You see their bodies?”

“Um…negative, sir,” Lopez replied with puzzlement in his voice.

Pierce flipped on the light switch and ripped off his NVGs. He held a hand over his eyes and blinked rapidly until they had adjusted to the light. When they did, his dead eyes became filled with rage. “What the hell do you mean, negative? They didn’t just vanish into thin air!”

When he turned and saw the console, Pierce went ballistic. “Where the hell are they!” He smashed everything in sight with the butt of his rifle.

Lopez decided to stay silent rather than add fuel to the fire by stating the obvious.

Pierce stared at the charred and bullet-ridden REACT console in disbelief. “Those bastards! I’ll never be able to launch now!”

With his mission objective now out of reach, he repeatedly pounded on the solidly built console but did little additional damage. Pierce kicked at debris on the floor, like a spoiled child throwing a temper tantrum. A piece bounced off the storage cabinet door under the desk. It made a hollow, tinny sound.

Pierce stopped his tirade. He held up a hand and trained his ear on the cabinet door. He waved Lopez over. Pierce pointed two fingers at his eyes then pointed at the cabinet door.

Lopez crouched down and put his hand on the door latch.

Pierce backed away and took a knee.

He pressed the stock of his HK416 into his shoulder, leveled it at the door, and closed his left eye.

Laughing, he said, “In case you two haven’t figured it out yet, I lied about letting you live.”

Lopez yanked the door open.

Major Pierce unleashed a slashing volley of 5.56-caliber rounds into the large space.

Chapter Thirty-Four

Sergeant Morgan rushed up and knocked on the office door.

Colonel Wilmer didn’t hear it. He was lost in an extremely thorough inventory of the training-scenario SD cards stored in his desk drawer.

Morgan knocked harder.

Wilmer looked up with a scowl on his face. “I’m busy. Go away!”

Morgan ignored the rude comment and opened the door. He held out a stack of computer printouts. “Sir, I’ve checked all the major systems in the command post. There were no malfunctions in any of our equipment.”

With a panicked voice, Wilmer said, “Then run a systems check on Alpha One. Check comms, check missile status, check the feeds from the security cameras.” He jumped up. “Check everything, dammit!”

Embarrassment combined with rage kept Pierce blasting away into the empty storage cabinet until his clip was empty.

Lopez held the door open and waited until the needless waste of ammo was over. He was going to say something but thought better