James Acton 01 - The Protocol Read Online Free PDF Page A

cocking an ear for their final briefing.
    “This is the primary target,” Dawson bellowed over the thunder of the rotors and the rattling of the hold. He held out a photo labeled Professor James Acton. “He must be captured alive so that we can recover the item. Eliminate the guards and any other resistance. Use your AK’s if necessary so that it looks like local rebels.”
    “What’s the item, Sergeant Major?” asked Mickey.
    “Need to know, Bravo Six!”
    “Yes, Sergeant Major!” Mickey flushed a little. Dawson eyeballed him for a brief second. Mickey had hesitated to carry out an order on the last mission and an enemy combatant had got the drop on Smitty. He had taken a round in the vest and survived, but three inches higher he would have been dead. It hadn't been necessary to chew Mickey out, he had learned his lesson. Dawson knew Mickey would never hesitate or question orders again.
    “The primary objective is to capture the target alive and recover the item. Video will be sent to Control and they will determine if the remaining targets are on the Termination List. Intel has them as members of a militant cult. If they are on the Termination List they will be eliminated as well. No residual footprint, gentlemen. It must look like a rebel raid. The camp is lightly guarded with hired private security, poorly trained and most likely to either surrender immediately or run. They are to be eliminated first by Overseer who will be dropped off one mile from the camp. Understood?”
    “Yes, Sergeant Major!” they answered in unison.
    “Five minutes to Overseer drop,” the pilot announced over the comm.
    Dawson activated his tactical throat microphone. “Acknowledged.” Looking at his watch, he rose, ending the briefing. “Five minutes to the drop. Check your gear!”
     
    Andes Mountains, Peru
     
    Acton couldn’t sleep. He was too excited by their find. With one final toss in his sleeping bag, he reached over to his Coleman lamp and turned up the gas. The cabin flooded with light, his belongings casting eerie shadows on the plywood walls. He climbed out of his sleeping bag, shook out his boots to rid them of unwanted visitors that might have crawled in during the night, and put them on. He unlocked the cabinet, removing the case. He’d just lifted the lid when a noise outside made him pause. Carefully closing the case, he turned down the light and went to the door.
     
    About one mile away, Niner, designated Overseer, and his spotter, Jimmy, had been dropped off by the Chinook and were already double-timing it into position. Jimmy, who’s name was actually Gerry, earned his nickname when the team found out he had been editor of his school newspaper. Red started calling him Jimmy Olson, and the name stuck. Jimmy wished they could have chosen another Superman character, but when Spaz joined the unit, he thanked his lucky stars.
    The sniper team wore heavy Ghillie suits designed to make them undetectable to the enemy. Each was customized by the operator to their own liking. Since there was the potential of spending hours or days in these outfits, someone else’s idea of a one-size-fits-all suit just didn’t cut it. When they neared the top of the hill they hit the ground and crawled the rest of the way, the extra canvas in the front of the suits protecting them from the hard rock and dried brush underneath.
    Niner quickly set up his weapon while Jimmy checked the camp below and completed his range card. In less than a minute, they were ready.
    “Overseer in position,” Niner said over the comm as they surveyed the camp, Niner through the scope on his rifle, Jimmy through his finder. They were far enough from the camp that any shot would reverberate through the valley below, making them almost impossible to locate. Several cabins were clumped together not far from a ring of tents. The dig site was cordoned off about three hundred feet south. Jimmy filled the details in on his range card and picked the first