Kasra yelped and covered the spot, turning to see what had happened. Two youths ran away from her, laughing as they aimed straight for Alikhel. Stoning was a justifiable punishment for a woman caught in adultery, as was one-hundred lashes. But what of the men who tasted that fruit? Like him.
On any other day, she would make sure he knew the full weight of her fury. Today, however … not even he could ruin the defiant streak of hope that shoved through her hard heart.
* * *
CIA Safehouse, Kandahar Province, Afghanistan
“Hey, Pretty Boy—clearance came through to hit the compound.”
Sweating and out of breath, Range Metcalfe swiveled on the weight bench and glanced over his shoulder. Spotted the two-twenty barrel-chested owner of Omen Tactical Group stalking across the gym, his reflection skipping along the mirrored walls.
“You know better than to taunt me.”
Former Navy SEAL Master Chief Pike Auberon, now CEO of Omen, was notorious for yanking chains. “Just heard from Eclipse—we’re hitting it tonight.”
Toweling off, Range grabbed his shirt and hustled after him. “What changed?”
“Someone’s mind,” Pike grunted as he hiked up to the Command center on the second level.
Finally. After all the innocents this woman had trafficked, he’d end her despicable trade—at least here. It was a beginning.
Following him around a corner, Range nearly collided with a thick wall of muscle named Luther Landry.
The big Southern guy slapped his back. “See? Dreams do come true, Pretty Boy.”
Shouldering away, Range veered into the operations hub of the safehouse. Monitors and systems lined every table and hung from the ceilings. Screens mounted against badly papered walls were alive with various feeds from around the city. A long, rectangular table littered with tablets, laptops, and phones sat crowded by the half-dozen members of Omen.
“Okay, boys,” said Dade Tycho as he clapped, as if this team needed any more enthusiasm. “OTG is officially OTG.”
Laughter filtered around the room at the double entendre—Omen Tactical Group was officially On The Go.
“Took ’em long enough,” Brick Archer groused from where he adjusted his ball cap, a Glock holstered to his thigh. “I mean, we couldn’t do nothin’ despite having our eyes on this chick for how long?”
Too long. Range stretched his neck as he scanned the latest intel logs and information streaming across the monitors.
“Listen up.” Pike planted his hands on his belt. “Our objective is one Kasra Jazani. As many of you know, we’ve had eyes on this madam for a long while.”
Screens around the room lit with an oval-faced woman. Green-brown eyes. Roughly early thirties. A complexion that indicated mixed heritage—not quite olive, yet definitely not Caucasian. She wore a teal hijab and knowing smile. Like she wasn’t worried about getting taken down.
Dade gave a sexy whistle. “The hottie from Kandahari.” The bad rhyme earned him both chuckles and smacks from the guys.
Range scowled. “This sick witch has been trafficking women and children up and down the Mideast Trench.” The name given for the hole she’d buried too many innocents in with this disgusting business.
“So, wait—we’re hitting the Roud Compound?” Luther’s tone betrayed the ominous truth of that site.
“That is correct. Couldn’t make this easy on you.” Pike nodded. “And as we all know Roud is essentially a small, well-fortified and well-armed city. HUMINT determined this three-story structure”—he used a laser to point out a large, square building dominating the walled-in compound dotted with dozens of squats—“is where Jazani and her minions play office. You will infil at zero five hundred.”
“Nearly dawn.” Landry cocked his head in a nod. “Gutsy. Light hits and we could be exposed.”
“Necessary,” Range said. “Daytime puts us at risk and night is when they are infiltrated with buyers. We need as little interference and as few innocents onsite as possible.”
Pike folded his arms. “You’ll go in, locate Jazani, and exfil.”
Landry grunted and scowled. “Are we putting sex buyers in the innocent category?”
“Right now, they don’t matter.” Range nodded to the screens where the woman sneered down at them. “Shedoes. We take her no matter what.”
“I wouldn’t mind getting some of that,” Tycho grinned.
