Free Echo Six: Black Ops 8 - ISIS Killing Fields by Eric Meyer Page B

fired up without any problems, and the men took turns racing around the FOB on 'familiarization' exercises. Talley let them have their fun. He knew it wouldn't last, not when they discovered the target. When a cash-strapped military handed out new equipment, there was always a price to pay. Always. And when they ran into the enemy, the fun would be a distant memory. ISIS was no fun. Whatever else they were, it wasn't a word anyone would use to describe them.
    The serious trouble came when their electronics wizard, Drew Jackson, began switching things on and running the built-in diagnostic checks. His expression was grim. "It's crap, Boss. Total crap."
    He stared back at the laconic Virginian. Jackson was Mr. Average in every way. Average height, average build, average facial features, and a mind that was on a par with the brightest and best. Einstein with his physics theories, and men like Oppenheimer, Bell, Edison, and Tesla. Jackson's genius was across the board. He could strip and rebuild anything electronic out in the field, and under fire, without even breaking into a sweat. He could scratch build a sophisticated satellite radio out of parts that seemed impossible, like an obsolete hi-fi system and broken toaster. Officially, he was the demolitions man. If NATO wanted something destroyed, vaporized, so it ceased to exist, they'd call in Drew Jackson. If he claimed the state of the art electronics were crap, they were crap.
    Talley felt the heat of the afternoon causing beads of sweat to run down his back. He'd been wrong. The new LSVs should have lifted their morale after the near disaster with the Rovers. Things hadn't turned out that way.
    "Okay, what's the problem?"
    Drew grimaced. "Problems, plural. First, the onboard electronics aren’t sufficiently ruggedized, not for these conditions. This stuff won't last more than a few hours in the field. Second, the internals are already showing signs of corrosion. The first signs of failure will come when it works intermittently. Then it’ll give up the ghost altogether."
    "All of it? You mean the commo, navigation, satellite data uplink, the works?"
    "The works. I'd say it needs a few weeks shaking down under real test conditions, and a host of modifications."
    "Do your best with it. It's what we have to work with."
    They worked through the day, checking out the electronic systems onboard the LSVs. At 18.00 they met in the briefing room to learn what NATO had in store. Brooks stood on a rostrum at the front of the room, and the men lounged on rows of folding wooden chairs, some of them dangerously unstable. The curse of Arab lack of maintenance had even reached into this place. Buchmann sat down too hard, and his chair collapsed. An Iraqi noncom putting out the chairs sniggered from across the room. The German picked up the broken chair and threw it at him, all the way across the room with unerring accuracy. It slammed into his head, and he dropped to the floor. Without a word, Buchmann strolled past him, took the chair he'd just put down, and carried it back to his place.
    Brooks watched in silence. There was a civilian with him, a young woman, and she looked to be in her mid-twenties. Her hair was long, shiny, and lustrous, a good match for her doe eyes. The smooth skin displayed a faint tan, as if she'd been in the Mideast too long. Her clothes singled her out as someone different, not a local, not military. L.L.Bean hits the desert. Heavy cotton chinos tucked into high, laced, expensive leather desert boots. A safari jacket that almost, but not quite, matched the jacket. Which itself was well cut and expensive, yet with the sheen of much wear. As if to say, I've been there, done that, and got the T-shirt. And I'm still there. Most desert adventurers would wear a cotton T underneath the jacket. A heavy silk blouse peeped out from under her outerwear. A statement? Probably.
    She had to be CIA. She just couldn't be anything else. He'd noticed her frown when Buchmann threw