PRIMAL Inception Read Online Free PDF Page A

tree.
    Kreshnik and his men had already fanned out and were searching the buildings. He watched as they gathered at the farmhouse. They disappeared inside, and a minute later they reappeared with the occupants. Six people were dragged from the house: two men, two women, and two children.
    The Gray Wolves lined the family up in front of the building. Ice’s hands trembled as he pressed the shutter button and captured the scene as it unfolded. The civilians had their backs to him and he watched as they were forced to their knees, hands behind their heads.
    Kreshnik paced in front of the prisoners, lecturing them. He raised his suppressed Skorpion. Every fiber of Ice’s being wished he was looking through the crosshairs of a sniper scope and not the telephoto lens. With a squeeze of a trigger, he would save the lives of that family. Instead, he watched the prisoners collapse, one by one, as Kreshnik shot them in the forehead with a subsonic .380 caliber bullet.
    Tears flowed from Ice’s eyes as he took one last photo. “I’m sorry. Oh God, I’m sorry,” he croaked.
     
    ***
     
    By far, the riskiest part of any downed pilot recovery operation was when the helicopter landed to make the pickup. At that moment, a well-aimed RPG could turn the rescue into a blazing pyre of death. However, the United States Air Force had a tried and tested tactic for mitigating this risk. It was simple. Overwhelming firepower.
    As Vance, Ice, and Sledge drove to the extraction RV, this dominance had already started. Thousands of feet above, a USAF strike package consisting of F-16CJ Wild Weasel SAM-hunters and EA-6B Prowlers was on station. They circled like hungry vultures, waiting for the slightest whiff of a radar.
    Below them, a pair of A-10 Warthogs prowled the sky, ready to unleash a torrent of 30mm depleted-uranium slugs into any ground based threats.
    When the 4Runner and the Gray Wolves escort neared an open field, a pair of AH-64 helicopter gunships thundered overhead.
    Vance parked the SUV at the edge of the field next to the two KLA vehicles. “I feel sorry for any Serbians with a cold today.”
    “Why’s that?” asked Sledge.
    “Because any bastard who even sneezes is going to get wasted.” He picked up the tactical radio from the center console.
    “Big Eye this is Slayer, we’re at the RV, over.”
    “Slayer this is Big Eye, I confirm that CSAR has ID on you and your team. Confirmation will be red smoke. I say again red smoke, over.”
    “Roger, Slayer out.” Vance dropped the handset, opened his door, and took his backpack from the trunk. “You going to be OK, Ice?”
    “Yeah.”
    It was the first word the man had said since returning from the massacre. Vance had pressed him for details but gotten only silence.
    He pulled the pin from a smoke grenade and tossed it into the grass. It spluttered and hissed as it released a cloud of thick red smoke. “Try to stay out of trouble, bud.” He offered his hand as the beat of rotor blades announced the arrival of the helicopters.
    Ice squeezed it. “I’ll do my best.”
    Vance nodded in the direction of the two KLA four-wheel drives. “Don’t let that piece of shit get the better of you. I’ll be back in a few days.”
    Ice nodded.
    “I’ll check in with you as soon as I land.” He shouldered his bag and moved over to where Sledge waited.
    “How is he?” asked Sledge as a pair of HH-60 Pave Hawks cut a circuit around them.
    “He’ll be fine.”
    “Hard bastards those Albanians.”
    Nope, thought Vance as one of the HH-60s flared and touched down in front of them. Just bastards.
     

CHAPTER 4
     
    5 SEPTEMBER 2001
     
    Ice paused on the side of the hill and looked down at the valley. His memory flashed back to the massacre he had witnessed two years earlier. Different location but a similar setting. A cluster of buildings tucked into the folds of a valley. A family home where generations of farmers had lived a simple existence. In his mind, he could still see