Deathrace Read Online Free PDF Page B

of the guys might get on you. Take it in good spirit. These men depend on each other for their very lives when we’re out there on a mission. Somebody fucks up, somebody dies. We don’t want that to happen. That’s why we’ve got four weeks to make you into the best SEAL there ever was.”
    Kat bit her lip and squinted her brown eyes. “Lieutenant DeWitt, I like to think I’m a fast learner. I’ll do my damnedest to learn what I must, to do what I have to, and to make sure that I don’t cause any glitches in the traditional SEAL procedures. Thanks for the escort, and I’ll see you bright and early at oh-eight-hundred tomorrow.”

4
Friday, October 21
0932 hours
Tehran, Iran
    George Imhoff didn’t believe his eyes or his ears. The four-hundred-pound man had demanded to know who he was. This Brooklyn blubber ball was an American.
    Yasmeen moved into the void quickly. “Please let us in, and I’ll explain everything. Come on, Tauksaun, it’s an emergency.”
    The huge man waddled back from the door and made a narrow passage for them to enter. It was a single room, with a small kitchen on one side, a bed on the other, and two chairs in between. The bed was a mattress on the floor. George figured no bedsprings or frame could support all that weight.
    The man she had called Tauksaun settled down on the bed and stared at George.
    “He’s a fucking American government man, FBI or the damned CIA or something. I don’t want him in my place.”
    “Tauksaun, he just shot two, and maybe more, Secret Police. They have a dragnet out to find him. I figure he must be on our side.”
    “So he is CIA. I can spot you guys a mile away. What the fuck you looking for?”
    “Where are you from, Tauksaun?” George asked. “Where in Brooklyn?”
    “What do you mean, Brooklyn. I’m from Hempstead out on the Island.”
    “Sure you are. My guess would be Flatbush Avenue, down toward the Marine Park. Maybe Nostrand Avenue.”
    “Hey, man, you’re way off. No fucking Flatbush Avenue. We had more class than that. Hey, you are CIA, right?”
    “Why else would I be in this hellhole? What are you doing here?”
    “Hiding from the damn IRS. Claim I owe them over a hundred thousand, with all of their penalties and interest. CIA, damn. What the hell you looking for?”
    “Important shit. I don’t know if Yasmeen thought you could help me, or just hide me for a couple of days.”
    “Hey, anything I can do to put a hot poker up the ass of the Secret Police, I’ll do in a second.”
    Yasmeen looked at George. “Tauksaun knows a great many people in Tehran. He’s lived here for five years. Most of the protest groups seek his advice.”
    “Is there a protest group against nuclear weapons?” George asked.
    Tauksaun laughed and slapped his bare thigh. “Now we’re getting down to where the rubber meets the road. Nuclear weapons, of course. What else would the CIA be interested in? I have contacts, but they are not easy to locate. I’m not good at running through the rat warren this town has become. They should starve half the people here, and start over.”
    “You know about the work the Iranian government is doing to make nuclear weapons?”
    “Yes, we hear talk. We go to meetings. We have some sources of information, but sometimes they turn out to be spies for the Secret Police. Then that whole cell is wiped out. As in gravestones.”
    “We need a little information,” George said. “Yasmeensaid her father had done some heavy hauling deep into the southern section of Iran. We think it was building materials and supplies, and tools for work on a nuclear bomb.”
    “You want to pinpoint the location of the facility,” Tauksaun said. “Yes, we, too have been working toward that end. We have little. Somewhere in the mountains of lower Iran. We also know that it is carefully camouflaged and can’t be detected from the air by plane or satellite.”
    “That makes it tougher,” George said. “It must have a road that leads