Free The Fate Of Nations: F.I.R.E. Team Alpha: Book One by Ray Chilensky Page A

She was his strength and his hope. He hoped he was giving as much to her.  “Wish me luck,” he said to the photograph.
     
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                  When Carter entered the Phantom’s ward room the team was seated around the small conference table. He smiled when he saw that each had a paper cup filled with whiskey in front of them. McNamara stood and handed a freshly filled cup to Carter.
                  “Found another reason to celebrate have we?” Carter asked.
                  “Boss, aside from this being Red Teams operational anniversary, tonight will be another milestone in history,” McNamara announced. “Tonight FIRE Team Alpha will be the first United States and allied military unit to conduct offensive, wartime operations in Western Europe since World War Two. You’re damn right that calls for a drink.”
                  “OK Mac,” Carter said, “But this time the honor is yours.”
                  McNamara raised his glass. “To the Fast Intervention Raiding and Espionage teams,” McNamara toasted. “And to FIRE Team Alpha; good fortune,” he added.
                  With the toast over Carter began the briefing. “Alright, you’ve known for a while that this mission is in Europe, and you’ve probably figured out that it’s some kind of rescue mission. But, until know, you haven’t been told what our specific target will be,” Carter said. “Our target is the central detention center for the WCA’s Directorate for Public Safety.”
                  “The secret police,” Sergeant Sharron Roth observed.
Carter turned to her, seeing hatred in her bright, hazel-colored eyes. “That’s right, Roth. The facility is where they hold their most important political prisoners.”
                  Roth passed a hand through her brown hair. “They torture and kill their prisoners,” she said.
                  Carter looked at her for several seconds. Roth’s parents had both been captured and killed by the DPS in Israel as that country finally fell to invading WCA armies. Her body tensed visibly at the mention of her parent’s murderers. For her, the mission was now fiercely personal.
                  “What they do to their prisoners is well known,” Carter said. “This mission will give some of them a fighting chance to live. But we’re only here get one man out.”
                  Carter called up several photographs of a bearded middle aged man on bulkhead-mounted view screen. "This is Alec Mertens. Until his capture, three months ago, he was the leader of the underground resistance to the WCA in Brussels, Belgium. Our job is to extract him and, in the process, allow as many prisoners as possible to get away.”
                  “So we’ll be using the larger prison-break to as a diversion to get Mertens out?” a bearded American sergeant asked. He was dark haired, broad shouldered, and stocky; a wrestler’s build.
                  “That’s right, Sains,” Carter said. “But we’re not just throwing the prisoners under the bus. The local underground has been alerted and will be ready to help them evade recapture, and we’ll destroy most of the vehicles and aircraft that would have been locally available for pursuit,” he added. “Most of them will probably be recaptured or killed, but they’ll have a fighting chance.”
                  The next to speak was Christopher Burgett: a tall, slim American First Sergeant with short black hair. “Sir, if the enemy has had Mertens for three months what good will he be to us? I mean the resistance must have completely changed their organization and procedures after he was captured. Besides that, even if they haven’t broken him mentally, he’ll sure as hell be broken physically.”
                  “That’s not our