Free The Ajax Protocol-7 by Alex Lukeman Page A
Authors: Alex Lukeman
Tags: Fiction, Action & Adventure
"You have to be careful, Nick. Get in and get out. Don't get caught and please, don't blow anything up."
"Mm," Nick said.
CHAPTER 19
It was after midnight when Ronnie, Nick and Selena landed at the private terminal in Fairbanks. Ronnie's friend was waiting for them. Sam Newhouse was a wiry, short man who looked like he'd been carved out of beef jerky.
"Hey, Gunny. Long time. How they hanging?"
The two men hugged and clapped each other on the back.
"Sam, these are my friends. This is Nick and this is Selena."
"Pleasure," Newhouse said. They shook hands. He looked at Nick. "Afghanistan, right? Recon? I remember you from Bagram. I was flying the bird that pulled you out. You were hit pretty bad. Glad you made it."
He's in the market, ramshackle bins and ragged cloth walls. Clouds of flies swarm around the butcher’s stall. He hears a baby cry. The street is deserted.
The rooftops erupt with men firing AK-47s. The market stalls shatter in a firestorm of splinters and plaster and rock exploding from the sides of the buildings.
A child runs toward him, screaming about Allah. Nick hesitates, a second too long. The boy cocks his arm back and throws a grenade as Nick shoots him.
The child's head dissolves in a red fountain of blood and bone. The grenade drifts through the air in slow motion...everything goes white...
"Nick?" It was Selena. Newhouse was looking at him. Nick realized he'd been gone for a moment.
"Sorry, yeah, that's right. Bagram. You have a good memory. I never got a chance to thank you."
"No thanks needed. Follow me," Newhouse said.
He led them outside to the parking lot and a red Toyota Highlander spattered with mud. They stowed the bags with their gear and weapons and got in. Newhouse pulled out of the lot. Ronnie sat next to him in front.
Newhouse said, "You said on the phone you wanted to fly up past Circle. We have to wait for daylight. There's a motel near here that's clean. I figured you might want to rest up a little. The only had two rooms available. I hope that's okay." He turned onto the highway.
"Sounds good," Ronnie said.
"You want to fill me in? You don't look like you're going fishing and there's nothing up there except bears and black flies."
Nick had checked out Newhouse. He'd talked it over with Harker and they'd decided the pilot would need to know something about why they were in Alaska.
"There's something we want to take a look at," Nick said from the back seat. "It's a government installation. We don't exactly have permission to visit it."
Newhouse said nothing.
"I can't tell you everything but you need to know that we all work for the President."
"Rice? He's a good man, not like that jerk he picked for a VP. It's too bad he had that heart attack."
"Rice didn't have a heart attack," Nick said.
Newhouse looked at him, surprised. "What do you mean, he didn't have a heart attack?"
"Someone tried to poison him. We don't know who did it but this place we're going may have something to do with it. We need you to set us down about a day's hike away and then come get us when we call you. The whole thing needs to be kept quiet."
"You're spooks, aren't you?"
"No, we're not Agency."
Newhouse was quiet as he drove. Then he said, "I guess not, or you wouldn't need my bird."
"It's complicated," Ronnie said. "We need to stay below the radar. Literally."
"Like the old days," Newhouse said. "Hell, I thought I left all that behind over there."
"At least no one's going to be firing missiles at you," Nick said.
"You sure about that?"
"Pretty sure."
"Well, hell, that makes me feel a lot better."
"We need you, Sam." Ronnie looked at him. "Are you in?"
"Makes a nice change from ferrying tourists around, I guess. Yeah, I'm in."
Newhouse turned into the parking lot of the motel, a low one story building with a row of rooms facing out toward the highway. A red neon sign read NO VACANCY. The V was out on the sign.
"Not fancy, but like I said, it's clean."
"Mm," Nick said.
CHAPTER 19
It was after midnight when Ronnie, Nick and Selena landed at the private terminal in Fairbanks. Ronnie's friend was waiting for them. Sam Newhouse was a wiry, short man who looked like he'd been carved out of beef jerky.
"Hey, Gunny. Long time. How they hanging?"
The two men hugged and clapped each other on the back.
"Sam, these are my friends. This is Nick and this is Selena."
"Pleasure," Newhouse said. They shook hands. He looked at Nick. "Afghanistan, right? Recon? I remember you from Bagram. I was flying the bird that pulled you out. You were hit pretty bad. Glad you made it."
He's in the market, ramshackle bins and ragged cloth walls. Clouds of flies swarm around the butcher’s stall. He hears a baby cry. The street is deserted.
The rooftops erupt with men firing AK-47s. The market stalls shatter in a firestorm of splinters and plaster and rock exploding from the sides of the buildings.
A child runs toward him, screaming about Allah. Nick hesitates, a second too long. The boy cocks his arm back and throws a grenade as Nick shoots him.
The child's head dissolves in a red fountain of blood and bone. The grenade drifts through the air in slow motion...everything goes white...
"Nick?" It was Selena. Newhouse was looking at him. Nick realized he'd been gone for a moment.
"Sorry, yeah, that's right. Bagram. You have a good memory. I never got a chance to thank you."
"No thanks needed. Follow me," Newhouse said.
He led them outside to the parking lot and a red Toyota Highlander spattered with mud. They stowed the bags with their gear and weapons and got in. Newhouse pulled out of the lot. Ronnie sat next to him in front.
Newhouse said, "You said on the phone you wanted to fly up past Circle. We have to wait for daylight. There's a motel near here that's clean. I figured you might want to rest up a little. The only had two rooms available. I hope that's okay." He turned onto the highway.
"Sounds good," Ronnie said.
"You want to fill me in? You don't look like you're going fishing and there's nothing up there except bears and black flies."
Nick had checked out Newhouse. He'd talked it over with Harker and they'd decided the pilot would need to know something about why they were in Alaska.
"There's something we want to take a look at," Nick said from the back seat. "It's a government installation. We don't exactly have permission to visit it."
Newhouse said nothing.
"I can't tell you everything but you need to know that we all work for the President."
"Rice? He's a good man, not like that jerk he picked for a VP. It's too bad he had that heart attack."
"Rice didn't have a heart attack," Nick said.
Newhouse looked at him, surprised. "What do you mean, he didn't have a heart attack?"
"Someone tried to poison him. We don't know who did it but this place we're going may have something to do with it. We need you to set us down about a day's hike away and then come get us when we call you. The whole thing needs to be kept quiet."
"You're spooks, aren't you?"
"No, we're not Agency."
Newhouse was quiet as he drove. Then he said, "I guess not, or you wouldn't need my bird."
"It's complicated," Ronnie said. "We need to stay below the radar. Literally."
"Like the old days," Newhouse said. "Hell, I thought I left all that behind over there."
"At least no one's going to be firing missiles at you," Nick said.
"You sure about that?"
"Pretty sure."
"Well, hell, that makes me feel a lot better."
"We need you, Sam." Ronnie looked at him. "Are you in?"
"Makes a nice change from ferrying tourists around, I guess. Yeah, I'm in."
Newhouse turned into the parking lot of the motel, a low one story building with a row of rooms facing out toward the highway. A red neon sign read NO VACANCY. The V was out on the sign.
"Not fancy, but like I said, it's clean."
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