“They think that they are a part of the security group. The special team is ready to kill them on your order.”
“Splendid. Then we would leave the bodies of some that are already suspected terrorists. Tell the security detail to stand down and just observe. Avoid confrontation with Grainger’s men whenever possible. Our guys need to get some rest. Tomorrow night is when everything will get dicey.”
“Yes sir boss.”
Sandra sat in her desk chair with the stare of a person looking 25 feet away in a 20-foot room. Her scalp itched, her clothes felt soiled, and her eyes were red. She badly needed a shower and change of underwear. Exhaustion and stress had taken its toll. Derek seemed to be doing much better. Perhaps his never getting overly excited or emotional allowed him to pace himself better.
Sandra turned her red eyes once more to the bank of television monitors. “It’s been awfully quiet for a long time.”
Derek sipped his coffee. “Nothing since a little after one AM. Maybe they are getting tired.”
Sandra stretched her arms out. “What is really weird is that there has been zero police activity. You would have thought that when one of Shindo’s goons started firing off an AK, the police would have stepped in.”
“Yeah, I think your earlier guess of them having penetrated the local police is correct. Look! Is that an RPG?”
Sandra leaned forward to look closer at the monitor that Derek was referring to. “The night vision video signal is kind of blurry, but that outline is unmistakable. That just confirms some of the earlier intelligence. This situation is quickly going to hell in a hand basket.”
“Maybe your boss will get you some military assets?”
“With training in urban warfare? Not likely in time. I really am feeling at a loss. This is beginning to be like playing the game ‘you can’t win.’”
“We should start sending your boss these images. He’s got to understand that if this situation gets out of control then it’s his neck also.”
“It’s already out of control and he already knows that it’s his neck. It could also be my neck.”
Pete crawled almost imperceptibly along the row of shipping containers stopping when he came to yet another drawstring cloth bag tucked under the foot rail. DeMario and Charlie provided cover and were monitoring for bad guys from about 100 feet away on either side of Pete. Pete keyed the mike on his radio. “This makes charge number 11. It’s a good thing that these guys don’t know much about hiding them.”
DeMario answered. “It seems like everyone is hunkered down. I could swear that I saw the silhouette of an RPG with that one group. The other group had what looked like a small mortar tube and a SAW! Let’s just not get caught in the crossfire when things erupt!”
Charlie keyed in. “we ought to relocate those charges to what obviously are their prepared positions. Wouldn’t they be surprised when they try to set them off!”
Pete chuckled. “Don’t make me laugh, I might screw up disarming this one. How many more of these do you think we have?”
Charlie answered. “There are only about a dozen more containers in this row. Then I say we get out to get some rest.”