Free SEAL Team 13 (SEAL Team 13 series) by Evan Currie

didn’t exist.
    Leland gripped the steering wheel nervously.
    Right?
    He laid on the horn and the gas at the same time, determined to get himself out of whatever the hell he’d gotten himself into, no matter what it took. The Tahoe leapt forward, charging the mob ahead of him, but the figures didn’t so much as flinch. As he roared into them, Leland saw no sign of them tensing to move, no hint of fear, and he realized then that he was about to mow down a whole pack of people when he’d only been attacked by two.
    He lost his determination, throwing the wheel hard to the left at the last second, putting the truck into a spin on the slush-and-ice-covered ground. Honestly, it was the only thing he could have done, he realized as the Tahoe spun toward the derrick rig, which was pumping serenely in its path. The Tahoe struck the pump, whiplash snapping Leland Griffin’s neck as the vehicle came to a jarring stop with enough force to snap the derrick and send black oil gushing skyward.
    It rained down all around the car as the rotting crowd watched silently from a distance.
    Finally, a woman’s voice rose above the sound.
    “The dark has deepened sufficiently,” she said. “Go to the other fields, go to the town. Do as you desire.”
    The crowd slowly dispersed, heading off in different directions as she calmly walked over to the machine shop and fetched a road flare from within. It snapped to life, illuminating her grotesque features harshly against the dark of the night sky. Her face was drawn back, leather stretched over bone, a permanent sickly grin exposing her teeth as she tossed the flare underhanded into the oil spill.
    It sputtered for a moment, almost seeming to go out, and then, with a roar that shook the ground, a plume of flame erupted against the dark. The woman turned around, shielding her eyes from the glare as she walked off the compound and turned north to town.

    COAST GUARD BREAKER, BEAUFORT SEA
USS NORTHERN DREAM
    “Captain, we just received an emergency call from Barrow.”
    “What’s the situation?” Captain Ronald Tyke asked, glancing over as the mate walked in.
    “Riot.”
    The single word was delivered in a disbelieving tone, and Tyke didn’t blame him. He stiffened, looking over at the man. “A what?”
    “That’s what the call said.…A riot has broken out in Barrow.”
    Tyke thought about it briefly, frowning. “Was there a Greenpeace protest scheduled or something?”
    “No, sir, nothing of that kind. Summer season has passed; most of those hippy types don’t hang around for long once the temperature starts to drop. The low light this time of year makes for bad photo ops, anyway.”
    Tyke grunted, but nodded in agreement. “All right, well, how big is it?”
    “Apparently there have been fatalities, and the local police can’t shut it down.”
    “Crap.”
    “Yes, sir.”
    After thinking quietly for a moment, Tyke said, “Have our course changed to take us to Barrow, shortest route. And relay the call to Alaskan Command. I think they’re the only ones with enough warm bodies to break up any serious fight.”
    “It’ll probably be over long before either of us get within a hundred miles of the place.”
    “I know. We’ll make the calls anyway. We don’t want things to get out of hand.”
    “Yes, sir.”

    ELMENDORF AIR FORCE BASE, ANCHORAGE, ALASKA
ALASKAN COMMAND (ALCOM) HQ
    “General, a strange call just get kicked up the chain.”
    Brigadier General Alphonse looked up as his aide walked into his office with a printed communiqué. “What is it?” he grunted.
    “Civilian request for aide in Barrow, sir. There’s a riot in progress.”
    The general blinked. “What?”
    “Just what I said, sir.”
    “Not our jurisdiction. Kick it over to the state troopers.”
    “Yes, sir, I did. They don’t have any way to get enough people up there.”
    “How many people could they need?”
    “Apparently it’s a big riot.”
    “Fine, we’ll give them a plane. We can do