Free Strike Force Alpha by Mack Maloney Page A

in….”
     
    Tino arrived at the bottom of Monte Fidelo ten minutes later. The flames shooting out of the peak had intensified. But he didn’t see any lava or whatever else might come rolling down the side of a volcano.
    He checked his rifle. It was loaded, but only with birdshot. Not much of a punch, but it would have to do. He looked to the summit again and blessed himself. The glow was even brighter. The air around him was getting hot. He vowed to ask the mayor for a raise after this.
    He put his Jeep into low gear and started up the hill. It was more than 1,900 feet to the top. The villa was located just below the peak, on the south side. There was a huge abandoned vineyard directly in front of the main house. Thick woods and rock covered the other three sides of the hill.
    Tino quickly passed the 500-foot mark but had to slow down as he neared 1,000 feet. The Jeep’s engine was breathing hard and the road went nearly straight up from here. The flames were climbing even higher as he reached the 1,500-foot point. He pulled to the side of the road and stuck his head out the window. He could hear the roar of the fire, the crackle of wood and old vines burning. The smoke was getting thick.
    But he pressed on.
     
    His Jeep was just about to quit when he reached the 1,800-foot mark. Here he found a trail leading to the villa.
    He got out, locked his doors, and checked his rifle one more time. Then he started walking cautiously toward the flames. The wind was blowing clouds of glowing sparks all the way to the ocean, a mile away. That’s why the sky seemed to be on fire. Tino had never seen anything like it.
    He walked out of the woods and onto the pathway leading directly to the villa’s front door. The door was still standing. But the rest of the villa was gone.
    Tino was shocked. There was nothing left. The villa had encompassed five separate houses, one of which had been four stories tall. But everything was just…gone. There could be no doubt about this: an explosion had taken place up here, one so powerful, it had blown the compound into dust.
    The flames were coming from the cellar, the only portion of the main house still intact. Between the path and where the house used to be Tino spotted the remains of six adults. Their bodies were twisted into grotesque positions; all had been horribly burned. They’d been running from the house when the blast went off.
    Several nearby residents now arrived on the scene. They’d been about a minute behind Tino in climbing the hill. Tino did not order them away. This was a vision of hell up here, and at the moment he welcomed the company. He did, however, stop them from entering the field where the bodies were located. He asked them what they had seen or heard prior to the explosion. Two reported seeing low-flying helicopters in the area just minutes before the blast but claimed they could not hear them. Tino discounted these reports right away: helicopters always made a racket; he knew of none that could fly silently. Another villager, an Army veteran, told him the wreckage spray indicated an enormous blast must have originated above the main house and not inside it. He pointed out that all of the villa’s walls had been blown downward before they were vaporized. His guess was a large cache of explosives had been detonated just a few feet from the villa’s roof, literally blowing the structure into the ground. Tino’s conclusion: someone had bombed the suspected terrorists occupying the house. But who?
    There was only one clue. It came with a strange discovery made by another villager who had driven up to the scene but had parked lower on the hill. Walking through the abandoned vineyard, he came upon something very puzzling. Those up near the burning house heard him shouting and made their way to his location. They found him studying the wreckage not of a car or truck or even an aircraft, but of an outboard motor, the type typically used on a large speedboat. It was