The Recruit: A Taskforce Story Read Online Free PDF Page B

some
serious
skill here. In and out without a blip. You saw the house. We can’t get through the front gate without compromise. What are your thoughts?”
    Slightly mollified, but not completely, Decoy said, “Bring up the SD card from the camera. I’ll show you how to get in. It won’t be through your stupid cover crap. No bullshit ice-cream truck charades. It’s going to be straight SEAL. A stalk from the beach.”
    Knuckles pulled up the photos of the terrain and said, “What beach?”
    Decoy sat down on the couch next to him and said, “Okay, no real beach, but the only way into that place is the exact spot we were faking for our cellular survey. Down the valley, through the scrub, then up past the swimming pool.”
    He pointed to the outside wall on the lower half of the terrain.
    “We get over that, then stalk to the inside. Look at the terrain. Look at the cover. We can do that.”
    Knuckles liked what he saw, the bushes overgrown and choppy, the terrain sloping down and giving anyone concealment to approach.
    Decoy said, “Or we could dress up like meter maids and knock on the front door, pretending to be Peruvians. Maybe rub a little shoe polish on our face and hunker down so we look the type. Your call, Mr. Top Secret.”
    Knuckles took the dig and said, “I think your first course of action is better. But don’t get all high and mighty about the acting. You apparently can’t see it when it’s staring you in the face.”
    “What’s that supposed to mean?”
    “Carly? Your booty call? She’s no consular employee. She works for OGA. You want me to spell that out for you again?”

7
    Knuckles turned around, the Night Observation Device on his head making him lean back as he craned to see Decoy without bumping the window. He saw a single flash of infrared and pushed the truck farther into the brush. He felt the tires grind against a stone and stopped, turning back around. He was rewarded with two flashes. Meaning it was hidden.
    He exited, dragging a small rucksack full of audio devices. Decoy met him on the rocky track. Really a goat trail.
    “About a half-klick walk. Straight up.”
    Knuckles looked past his outstretched arm, the night a hazy mix of green from the NODs. He saw the lights of the house on top of the ridge, beacons that caused a whiteout when caught directly in the tube. Below it, only about two hundred meters away, was the wall that skirted the compound.
    Knuckles pulled on a black watch cap, like a burglar from a 40s movie, and said, “Let’s get this done.”
    While they could have opted for multicam or some other high-speed clothing—things that would make their infiltration easier—they’d opted for nothing more than dark attire. Subdued browns and blacks. Jeans and long-sleeve shirts.
    Knuckles knew that, like everything else in his Taskforce world, the operation on the X was only a small part of the mission, and they couldn’t afford to be caught, before or after, dressed like commandos. They might be forced to flee on foot and would need to blend into the nearest neighborhood to seek refuge.
    Everything was a trade-off, and more than one mission had been compromised following successful execution because of Murphy’s Law.
    Knuckles said, “Okay, first things first. We get over the wall, use the draw to get close to the guesthouse, and set up the laser mike and relay. From there, we enter the main house. You good on the lock?”
    “No sweat.”
    “Even under NODs?”
    “Yeah, yeah. I’m good. Worked it in the closet of the hotel today.”
    After the mission shift from the Oversight Council, they’d spent the remainder of the day conducting a reconnaissance of the house, using the same vantage point they’d found earlier.
    Knuckles had taken high-resolution pictures of every lock he could see, then sent Decoy back to the hotel to build mock-ups and practice cracking them. Knuckles had spent the rest of the time studying the terrain.
    He’d discovered that the squad