Free The Genesis Plague (2010) by Michael Byrnes Page A

convincing, but Jason was a consummate diplomat. Jason then summoned Hazo inside.
    ‘Make it fast,’ Crawford warned Hazo. ‘No goofing around out there.’
    Jason could tell that the forty-something, no-nonsense Texan - nothing but muscle dressed in crisp fatigues and a soft cap - intimidated Hazo. The Kurd cowered from the colonel’s tough, grey eyes and jutting square cleft chin.
    ‘Yes Colonel,’ Hazo replied sheepishly. ‘I promise to work quickly.’
    ‘Then why are you still standing here? Get moving!’ Crawford barked.
    Jason watched Hazo scramble out from the tent, down the hill to the chopper.
    ‘A Kurd?’ Crawford grumbled, shaking his head with severe incredulity. ‘You sure he’s on our side, Sergeant?’
    ‘Hazo’s been thoroughly vetted. We’d be dead in the water without him.’
    ‘You guys really do march to a different drummer. If he fucks up, it’s on your head, Yaeger. Not mine. Got it?’
    Jason nodded.
    Crawford pummelled agitatedly to the Blackhawk pilot that the request had been granted.
    They watched as the copilot helped Hazo into the fuselage jumpseat and secure his flight helmet. Then the copilot took his place in the cockpit. The rotors wound up and the chopper lifted into the air, spinning sand in its wash.
    The colonel frowned as he scanned the inside of the tent. ‘Christ. How long you been living like this?’
    ‘Six months, give or take.’
    ‘Shit, cavemen had it better.’
    ‘We specialize in dirty work,’ Jason subtly reminded him.
    ‘Don’t play the martyr, Yaeger,’ he warned. ‘We’re all in the trenches in this shithole.’
    Jason let the comment roll.
    ‘So tell me what we’ve got. I see a lot of blood and meat out there. Any of it ours?’
    Jason shook his head. ‘No, sir. Four kills on the hill, eight more on the road. Five more holed up in that cave.’ Then he took a breath and dropped the bomb: ‘And we suspect that Fahim Al-Zahrani is in there with them.’
    Crawford’s eyebrows tipped up. ‘Is that right,’ he said with a sardonic grin. ‘You expect me to believe that?’
    ‘See for yourself,’ Jason said, moving over to Meat’s laptop and bringing up the side-by-side pictures. ‘Took these myself. Ran facial rec on them. Perfect match.’
    Crawford sat rigidly in the chair and gave each image a critical, dismantling stare, his sharp chin protruding outward. Finally, he said, ‘Well fuck my mother. This raghead is supposed to be in Afghanistan.’
    ‘They were trying to move him through the mountains.’
    ‘Sure they were. Slippery bastards are probably trying to bring him over the border to his buddies in Iran. Shit.’ He exhaled heavily. ‘Heard you called in an air strike. You sure some of that gunk smeared over those rocks isn’t him?’
    ‘Negative. Called off the strike on his position. I saw Al-Zahrani run into the cave. I’ve got video of that too.’
    ‘And he’s not buried under all that stone?’
    ‘Already pushed a Snake through the rubble. All clear on the other side. So far, we’ve seen no blood or bodies. And one of the hostiles managed to smash the camera. We’re pretty sure they’re all still trapped in there.’
    Crawford nodded. ‘All right, Yaeger.’ His covetous eyes stayed glued to Al-Zahrani’s digital portrait. ‘I need this fucker alive.’
    And there it was, thought Jason - the colonel’s subtle jockeying for claiming the prize as his own.
    Then in the reflection of the computer monitor, Jason caught Crawford staring sideways at the cracked-open ID badge casing and its extracted chip which Meat had left beside the laptop. He swore he saw the colonel’s eyes go wide with alarm. It lasted only a fraction of a second.
    ‘You should know that that’s no ordinary cave up there,’ Jason said.
    Crawford stood up, squared his shoulders and crossed his arms tight across his chest. ‘How so?’
    Jason told him about the blown-out security door and the strange images carved into the entry tunnel’s