James Acton 01 - The Protocol Read Online Free PDF

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    The Chinook helicopter had sound dampening technology, but it was still loud. As they approached the camp from the north Dawson activated his comm.
    “Bravo One to Overseer, proceed.”
    “Roger that, Bravo One, Overseer beginning to oversee!” Dawson smiled inwardly at the barely contained glee in the young man’s voice. It took a special kind of person to be a sniper and this kid had it.
     
    “Two targets, Target One, Sector A from TRP I right fifty add forty!” said Jimmy rapidly in a harsh whisper as he looked through his binoculars. Niner shifted slightly, the ground racing by in his scope as he searched for the target.
    “Roger, Sector A, from TRP I right fifty add forty.”
    “Single target, dark fatigues, smoking cigarette carrying AK.”
    “Roger, single target, dark fatigues, smoking cigarette, carrying AK,” repeated Niner as he looked for the target through the scope of his M24A2 SWS Sniper Weapon System. He located the target just as he stamped out the cigarette. “Target One identified! I have two mils crotch to head, confirm.”
    “Roger, two mils crotch to head, dial five-hundred on the gun.”
    Niner adjusted his weapon. “Roger, five-hundred on the gun, indexed!”
    “Wind left to right, three mph, hold one-eighth mil left.”
    “Roger, wind left to right, three mph, hold one-eighth mil left,” he repeated as he dialed the final setting. He gently squeezed the trigger, the recoil hammering into his shoulder. He loved that feeling. The target collapsed in a heap. Niner smiled. “Broke one-eighth mil left.”
    “Center hit, stand by,” replied Jimmy.
    “Roger, center hit, standing by,” acknowledged Niner as he waited for the next target from his spotter.
    “Target two, Sector B, from TRP I left sixty add twenty.”
     
    Acton peered out the door to see what it was that had drawn his attention. He scanned the camp and didn’t see anything out of order except one of the damned guards asleep on the job. Giggling emanated from one of the tents, clearly some extra-curricular activity going on in the shadow of the Andes. Several fires from earlier in the evening were now smoldering embers, wisps of smoke rising into the night sky. He looked to the other end of the camp where he knew a guard should be stationed. At first he didn’t see him, but a moment later saw him walking along the perimeter, smoking a cigarette. Acton breathed a sigh of relief and was about to go wake up the other guard when the one he was looking at dropped to the ground in a heap. Then he heard the rotors of a chopper.
     
    Niner had radioed the all-clear, so the team began their insertion at the campsite’s edge. The chopper touched down and the team jumped out, crouching in a covering formation until the chopper pulled away. Dawson, using hand signals, sent his team off in twos in several directions to set up a perimeter. He, Red, Spaz and Mickey headed for the central cabin where Acton was supposed to be. In less than thirty seconds they reached it to find the door open.
     
    Acton watched the chopper set down. He fought the instinct to warn his students, knowing there wasn't enough time and that he might get himself and others killed. So he ran. He knew the one reason they had come—the skull. He also knew that between the corrupt police and the various rebel factions, who were nothing more than gangs, there were plenty who would stop at nothing, including killing, to get their hands on something of value. That is why he had given the strict orders to his team to tell no one about their discovery. Someone had obviously not followed his order.
    The best place to hide he figured was in the cave where the skull had been found. Behind the hole Garcia had dug had been a small chamber that led into a much larger one. If he hid in there he might have a chance. He took the long way to the entrance, a winding path shielded from the camp by brush and scattered trees. Running from tree to tree, he crouched in