Prime (Chess Team Adventure, #0.5)

Somers, in particular, concerned King. Although King had personally witnessed Somers’s extraordinary strength and unwavering dedication in the face of enemy fire, there was something unsettling about the big man. It wasn’t just that he was quiet. Silent Bob was a regular chatterbox next to Somers. There was an intensity to Somers. There was some unspoken passion or rage, smoldering just below the surface, like hot coals under a crust of ash, waiting for a stiff breeze to fan them into a full-blown wildfire.

King had briefly considered assigning Somers the callsign of “Terminator,” but he figured the big guy had probably had his fill of comparisons to ‘Ahnold.’ Instead, he pulled a different iconic name from the well of Hollywood inspiration; Somers was now ‘Eastwood,’ and given his personality, that seemed even more apropos.

It didn’t surprise King at all that Somers hadn’t been selected to a Delta unit. Operators tended to be extroverts by nature, able to kick back over a brew with their teammates after a mission, shedding the stress of combat as easily as dropping their gear. He couldn’t imagine what ‘kicking back’ would look like to Erik Somers.

Parker had recommended Somers, and that counted for a lot, but whether or not the big man found a place on King’s new team would depend on how tonight’s mission went.

I suppose that’s true for all of us, he thought morosely.

They passed through a small town, and King spied a billboard written in several languages, including English, indicating the National Botanical Gardens lay just ahead.

“Almost there,” Zelda announced. “Shin says it’s just a couple miles past Pyin Oo Lwin.”

Tremblay’s face appeared at her shoulder. “What a coincidence; that’s the name of my favorite noodle dish at PF Chang’s. Speaking of which, I’m famished. Is there a Mickey D’s hereabouts?”

Zelda purposefully ignored him, as did King. “All right. Let’s find a good place to park.”

A few minutes later, she pulled the van off road and threaded it into the woods, where it wouldn’t be readily visible from the highway. The trees shut out the last few rays of daylight, plunging them into a world of shadows. They would be making their final approach to the objective on the dirt road, but before they could begin that journey, they had to deal with the gate guard.

King, Bellows and Silent Bob left the van behind and hiked through the woods toward the guard shack. There was no sign of the old man Shin had reported meeting the previous day, but the windows of the small structure glowed with artificial light—probably from a television set. Bellows crept to one of the windows, cautiously peered inside and then used hand signals to relay what he had seen: one man, sitting near the wall, facing east.

Silent Bob nodded, and then, with the stealthy swiftness that had earned him his nickname, he swept through the door. King, half a step behind, glimpsed movement in the dark interior room—the guard reached for his rifle but Silent Bob’s suppressed MP5 coughed twice, and all motion ceased.

King scanned the small room, noting the old television set and a radio transmitter station that looked like little more than an off-the-shelf citizen’s band radio. He decided that was a good sign; the triad, or whoever was running this little operation, evidently didn’t think it warranted more aggressive security measures. He keyed his mic. “Legend, this is King. We have the gate. Move up now.”

Zelda, who had made her displeasure at the callsign he’d chose for her abundantly clear, answered with a terse: “Roger, out.”

King backed through the door and turned to Bellows. “Casey. You’re staying here. Set up an observation post and watch the door.”

Surprise and dismay flickered across his teammate’s face, but Bellows was too much of a professional to protest. Deep down, the man was probably relieved to be sitting on the bench for this raid. They had all used up a lifetime’s worth of luck, but Casey Bellows had a pretty wife and a newborn baby waiting for him back home. Every Delta shooter knew the risks that came with the job, even those with families, but King believed there were already too many kids without fathers in the world, and he didn’t want to be responsible for one more.

Bellows assented with a nod and melted into the woods behind the shack, while King and Silent Bob headed for road where Zelda and others were waiting.





TWENTY-TWO