African Ice Read Online Free PDF Page B

frame looked cramped in the windowless room. His hair was closely cropped, military style, and his face was rugged, with a strong jaw and piercing blue eyes. He opened a box and took out a gun.
    â€œIn addition to the Remingtons and the Daisy, I’ve added a few more toys.” He held the gun out in front of him. “The Vektor MINI SS 5.56mm machine gun. Much lighter than its 7.62 big brother, and more accurate at close range. Excellent for jungle warfare.” He replaced the machine gun and pulled a shorter, more compact weapon from an adjacent box. “Vektor CR21 Assault rifle. Also 5.56mm ammunition. The advantage for keeping to the same ammo is obvious. This little pup is totally nasty at almost any range. Largest caliber slug of any compact assault rifle on the market.”
    Ramage was enjoying himself. He slid the gun back into its case, and gingerly opened a wood crate tucked in the corner. He held up a device with a long tube, mounted on a tripod, and a small missile-shaped shell. “M8 81mm mortar, by Vektor, of course.”
    â€œWas Vektor having a clearance sale?” Alain asked, laughing.
    â€œHardly. I spent a shitload of money on these things.” He grinned as he spoke. “You get what you pay for. This mortar is extremely light, the tube short for the accuracy you get, and the shells are all frags. For those special moments.” He carefully replaced the mortar and its ammo, then continued.
    â€œThe Daisy 600 is a nice rifle, but I prefer this.” He took a briefcase-shaped object from another box. He opened it and began taking parts out, snapping them together. The final result was a long, high-caliber rifle. “The Sako TRG 21/41 sniper,” he informed them. “Accurate to within four inches over a half mile. Outstanding.” He disassembled the rifle and replaced it, then sat down.
    â€œImpressive, Troy. As usual,” McNeil said. He turned to the final man present at the table: Dan Nelson, explosives guru with Team Six for seven years. “Dan, how did you spend your money?”
    â€œVery carefully.” Nelson smiled and stood up. Six feet tall, with a linebacker’s build, Dan Nelson was a handsome African-American with the most astute mind the SEAL team had ever had on staff. He was notorious for acing the bomb-defusing drills, knocking so many seconds off the previous record that no one could ever hope to better it. It made him a legend in the tight-knit SEAL community, and pissed off a few of the brass when McNeil had talked him into leaving the SEALs and working in the private sector.
    Nelson hoisted a wooden crate from the floor and placed it on the table. The top opened easily, and he retrieved a metal object from amidst the packing chips. “Fragmentation grenade, gentlemen. Manufactured by SM Swiss, this baby weighs one pound and has over two thousand fragments. Absolutely deadly inside a fifty-foot radius. Great for the jungle. The shrapnel cuts through the underbrush like it isn’t even there. Just remember to duck.”
    He replaced the hand grenade and pulled out what appeared to be a large-caliber bullet. “Believe it or not, a 7.5mm anti-tank round.” He had everyone’s attention as he continued. “Up to two hundred and fifty yards, this thing will penetrate almost any armor, including tanks.”
    â€œImpressive,” Travis said, “if we’re up against tanks.”
    â€œYou never know,” his explosives expert shot back. He replaced the shell and pulled out a mortar. “SM 120mm Mortar Cargo Bomb. It’s effective up to seven thousand yards, and delivers thirty-two anti-personnel grenades. Much better than the conventional HE Bombs.”
    â€œNow
that
we can use,” Troy said approvingly.
    â€œAnd a handful of explosives for our geologist,” Dan said, closing up the boxes. “Surface charges, and some down-hole stuff as well. If she finds the vein, we can uncover