The thunderclaps of Niner and Atlas’ sniper rifles ripped apart the air behind them, and two more riders dropped. Dawson spotted Buhari standing in the doorway of the school, his sight trained on the hostiles, disciplined bursts erupting from his weapon. At the sound of the sniper rifles, his head spun and he spotted Dawson and the others. A smile spread and he shouted something to his men who cheered, pouring more gunfire on the enemy.

  “Zero-One, Control. Be advised you have hostiles leaving the road. They’re about to flank the school to the west and east.”

  “Copy that, Control.” He glanced at the others. “Spock, you’re with me. Mickey and Jagger, cover the rear of the school.”

  “Yes, Sergeant Major,” echoed his men as Mickey and Jagger split off. Dawson raised his M4 and began firing single shots at the enemy. As they reached the school grounds, he didn’t bother joining Buhari at the door—it was too exposed. Half of Buhari’s men were in a ditch that ran along the front of the school that provided far better cover. Shots continued to sound from Atlas and Niner, each one true, leaving a tangle of motorcycles with dead or wounded riders now providing a fairly effective roadblock.

  Shots rang out from behind them and Jagger’s voice came in over the comms. “Zero-One, Zero-Eight. We’ve got at least a dozen back here. We could use some local help, over.”

  “Copy that, Zero-Eight. Stand by.” Dawson twisted around and waved at Buhari. “Sergeant Major! Send six men to reinforce the rear!” Buhari gave a thumbs-up, snapping out the order, half a dozen of his men redeploying. “Zero-Eight, Zero-One. Reinforcements are coming in from the number two side.”

  “Copy that, Zero-One,” replied Jagger, his and Mickey’s M4s engaging a large number of AK-47s and 74s, suddenly joined by the Nigerians, evening out the odds. Even if their aim was less than accurate, it provided suppression fire that would give his men the opportunity to deliver disciplined rounds and quickly thin the herd.

  “Zero-One, Control. The rear of the hostile column has stopped, over.”

  Dawson peered down the road to see the approaching motorcycles slowing, some of them turning around. Shouts from the riders behind those at the lead had heads spinning then wheels. Dawson rose and switched to full-auto, pouring as much lead as he could on the riders as they retreated, knowing that every one he eliminated now would be one less he would face later. Spock and the Nigerians joined in, another half-dozen wiped out before Dawson raised a fist in the air.

  “Ceasefire!”

  And the guns fell silent.

  The Nigerians stood in stunned silence then smiles broke out and cheers erupted at the unexpected victory. But there was no time to celebrate.

  Dawson activated his comms. “This is Zero-One. Everybody report in.”

  The entire team reported in order, confirming they were alive and uninjured, and he rested slightly easier.

  A shriek from inside the school had everyone spinning. Buhari and Dawson sprinted inside to find a teacher kneeling over the body of a little girl, a stray round having penetrated her chest, the large pool of blood she lay in indicating she was long past helping.

  Buhari kneeled beside the teacher. “Is anyone else hurt?”

  But she said nothing, the woman’s entire body trembling from fear and shock. Dawson checked for a pulse, confirming the girl, no more than eight, was dead. He rose and smiled reassuringly at the children. “You’re safe now. Is anybody else hurt?”

  A hand rose from behind the huddled mass in the corner and his chest tightened at the sight of blood running down the extended arm. He stepped forward and the children parted, revealing a girl, perhaps twelve, shaking in place, struggling to maintain her balance as blood oozed from her shoulder. He activated his comms as he rushed forward to catch her before she collapsed.

  “One-One, Zero-One. Get to the schoolhouse now. Bring a medkit.”

  “Roger that,” replied Niner, their most experienced medic.

  Dawson pressed his hand against the wound as he gently caressed her cheek. She stared up at him, terror filling her eyes at what must be a horrifying sight, for he was in full combat gear, a white man with a gun whom she had never seen before, a stranger for all she knew was responsible for what had happened. A motorcycle engine revved in the distance and her eyes widened further, meeting his.

  “Please don’t let them take me,” she whispered.

  Niner burst into the room and took over. Dawson stepped back as more engines revved, Boko Haram sending a message that this day wasn’t over.

  16 |

  Outside Ugurun, Nigeria

  Ibrahim twisted the throttle repeatedly, as did the others who survived the failed assault. As soon as he had heard the loud claps of multiple sniper rifles, he had eased up. Something was wrong. Other types of weapons he wasn’t accustomed to hearing had joined in the fight, and when it was apparent they were losing, he had ordered the retreat. He waited for the last survivors to join them then led everyone away from the village to a safe distance.

  He turned off his bike as did the others, the silence only broken by the gasps of the exhausted, shocked, and wounded. “What happened?” he asked the group in general.

  “They had help,” said one of his men, Maduka, gripping a bloodied shoulder.

  “Who?”

  “Americans.”

  The ember of hate he always carried in his stomach flared at the mention of Islam’s greatest enemy. “Are you sure it was Americans?”

  Maduka shrugged then winced at the motion. “I saw white guys in expensive gear.”

  “We need to know if we’re fighting Americans. If we are, the donations we raise will be greatly increased if we can kill them.”

  Maduka’s eyes bulged. “You mean we’re going to try again?”

  “We lost the battle, but this is a war.” Ibrahim waved an arm at half a dozen of his men. “Take radios and set up positions around the village and that base. I want to know what we’re facing. Are they Americans? If not, who are they? How many of them are there? What kind of weapons do they have? How many government soldiers? Gather as much intel as you can, then report in.” He turned to the rest. “Those of you who aren’t wounded, I want you to visit every town and village in the area and gather our supporters. Our brothers will be avenged, and the great Satan and the corrupt who would seek their aid shall pay the ultimate price. Nobody defies Boko Haram!”

  17 |

  Operations Center 2, CIA Headquarters Langley, Virginia

  Leroux stared at the satellite images and breathed a sigh of relief as the bulk of the remaining Boko Haram force turned tail, but frowned when half a dozen remained behind.

  “What do you think they’re doing?” asked Child as they left their motorcycles on the side of the road then split up.

  “Probably some sort of recon mission,” replied Tong. “They just got their asses kicked and they want to know who did it.” She pointed at the screen, noticing the same thing Leroux just had. Riders were splitting off at the various crossroads leading back to their warehouse. “That looks ominous.”

  A pit formed in Leroux’s stomach. “They’re gathering supporters.”

  Child cursed as he spun in his chair. “So then this isn’t over.”

  Leroux shook his head. “Not by a long shot.” He jacked into his terminal. “Zero-One, Control Actual. Do you copy, over?”

  “Control, Zero-One. I copy, over.”

  “Eyes in the sky show six hostiles remained behind and are on foot in your area. We assume they plan on gathering intel. Remainder of the hostiles have left the area, however, it appears they’re splitting up. Our thinking is that they’re gathering followers for a counterattack. Recommend you prepare to evac the area.”

  Dawson’s reply was immediate and expected. “Negative, Control. We’ll remain until the Nigerians can reinforce this area and guarantee the safety of these children. We have wounded here. See if you can get the Nigerians to send in the chopper to evac them.”

  “Copy that, Zero-One. We’ll try to arrange it, however, your local contacts will probably have more success than we will.”

  “Understood, Control. Zero-One, out.”

  Leroux pulled off his headset and tossed it onto his station. He turned to Tong. “See if you can arrange a helicopter evac for the wounded. And find out what other assets we have in the area that we might be able to use.”

  “A nice drone strike on their warehouse when they’re all in there partying might be a nice idea,” suggested Child as he dropped his foot, killing his spin.

  Leroux shook his head. “We don’t know who’s inside. That could be where they’re keeping girls that they’ve kidnapped. On this mission, collateral damage is unacceptable.”

  18 |

  Ugurun, Nigeria

  “How many men did you lose?” asked Dawson as the area filled with villagers rushing toward the school to check on their children. Buhari’s men weren’t letting the children out of the school until they could be matched with parents—the last thing they needed were several dozen unattended children running around the area.

  “Four.” Buhari sighed. “Four young men, boys, who never should have been here.”

  Dawson tapped his earpiece. “The voice in my ear tells me we have six hostiles reconnoitering the area, and it appears that the survivors have split up and may be attempting to gather others for a counterattack.”

  Buhari cursed. “We barely won this one. The only reason we did was because we surprised them. Now that they know you’re here, they’ll be coming in numbers, using a much wiser strategy than riding in on noisy motorcycles down the only road.”

  “Agreed. What would you recommend?”

  Buhari smirked at him. “You’re the advisor. What would you advise?”

  Dawson chuckled. “I’d advise you radio headquarters and get them to fly in reinforcements so that we can immediately bolster our defenses, then get a column of a couple hundred troops heading this way, because they could be hitting this place by nightfall in force.”

  Buhari grunted. “As I told you before, the roads are out. There’s no way we can get reinforcements in by ground.”

  “Then get them all in by air.”

  “I had a hard enough time convincing the colonel to free up a single chopper for you.”

  Dawson bristled. “Then tell the colonel the choppers aren’t to taxi American advisors, it’s to save children.”

  “I’ll do my best, but I’m not confident.”

  “Then tell your colonel to do his best, because America will be watching.”

  19 |

  FOB Hadejia, Nigeria

  Red stood near the center of the Forward Operating Base his team had been sent to evaluate, though that job had been set aside the moment he had received word of the change in command. This was a CIA operation now, counterterrorism, and Dawson’s team had just engaged in battle with Boko Haram, fending off the terrorists’ attempt to kidnap schoolgirls. He turned to Sergeant Akintan. “How long would it take us to get to Ugurun?”

  “Eight hours by truck in ideal conditions. Less than an hour by helicopter, but we don’t have any available.”

  “Can you get some?”

  “I’ll ask my lieutenant.”

  Red pointed at one of the dozen troop transports now spread around the compound rather than clustered together as a single target. “Are these fully fueled?”

  “Always.”

  “How many of your men are ready to go?”

  “Go where?”

  “Ugurun.”

  Akintan shook his head. “We’re not authorized—”

  Red interrupted him. “That’s not what I’m asking. I’m asking, if you received the orders, how many men are ready to go, right now?”

  “I could put one hundred men on those trucks, armed and equipped, within fifteen minutes.”

  Red smiled slightly. “That’s what I like to hear.”

  “But it doesn’t matter, the roads are out.”

  “This is the Army, Sergeant. Just like the Marines, we improvise, we adapt, we overcome. Talk to your lieutenant. We need to be prepared to go and provide relief. From the reports I’ve received, FOB Ugurun is a joke, barely twenty men, most raw recruits with only a chain-link fence to protect them. Boko Haram just got their asses kicked today, but they could be back in greater numbers, and your countrymen and mine will be slaughtered if we don’t act now.”

  The sergeant bristled at the mention of Boko Haram. “They attacked one of our bases?”

  “No, they attacked a school just down the road. The soldiers at the base engaged along with the other American team, and they repelled the attack. Four of your men were killed and at least one child.”

  Akintan cursed. “You are right, Sergeant, Boko Haram never likes to lose. I’ll go talk to my lieutenant and see what can be done.” He headed for the command hut and Red turned to the rest of his team.

  “We could be about to get into the thick of it.”

  “Good,” said Jimmy. “I’d rather be killing terrorists any day than inspecting fence lines.”

  “Me too,” agreed Wings. He pointed at a chopper sitting off to the side of the landing pad. “I talked to one of the Nigerians about that earlier. He said they have the parts to fix it, but they’re waiting for the mechanic. I bet you I can get that thing working.”

  “Do it.”

  Wings sprinted toward the chopper, shouting to one of the Nigerians. “Yo, bring those parts! We’re going to get this baby running!” The man grinned before disappearing inside a storage building.

  “Pack your gear, prepare for a change in venue. If we’re going by helicopter, we won’t be able to take as much with us. Focus on weapons and ammo, and don’t forget the night vision. BD’s initial report indicated they barely had any separation between the fence line and the tree line. I want to be able to pick these mothers out if they decide to attack at night.” He smacked his hands together. “Get to it. I’m going to contact Control.”

  The others headed to the barracks reserved for them, the accommodations here apparently far better than those on offer for Dawson’s team. He activated his comms. “Control, Zero-Two. Come in, over.”

  “This is Control. Go ahead, over.”

  He recognized Leroux’s voice. “Can I get a status update on Team One, over?”

  “Affirmative, Zero-Two. Zero-One reports that his team is secure and is providing first aid to the wounded, over.”

  “Have they returned to the FOB?”

  “Negative, they’re still at the school.”

  “Hostiles?”

  “It appears they left six scouts behind, and what remains of their force has fallen back to their original staging area, about twenty minutes away, but a lot of them broke off. We believe they’re gathering reinforcements for a more significant attack.”

  “Copy that. Request permission to redeploy to Team One’s location.”

  “Permission granted if you can arrange transport. At the moment, the Nigerians won’t provide clearance for anything of ours to fly over their airspace. Do you have transportation available to you?”

  “We’re working on it. We’ll hopefully know shortly.”

  “Copy that, Zero-Two. Keep us posted.”

  “Roger that, Control. Zero-Two, out.” Red strode over to the helicopter as the replacement parts arrived, Wings already buried in the engine. “Report.”

  Wings poked his head out. “I’m not done yet.” Red gave him a look and Wings grinned. “If my friend here has all the parts we need, I can get her running, but it’s probably going to take me a couple of hours. My guess is you’ll be in trucks heading there long before I’ve got this thing in the air. What do you want us to do?”

  “Keep going. If we get permission to leave in the trucks, we will. You stay here and get this bird in the air. Even if we have a two-hour head start on you, if the roads are truly out, we might not be able to get there until tomorrow. Five men stuck on a road with one working on a possible solution is better than six stuck with no solution.”

  “You’re a wise man, Sergeant.”

  “That’s why they pay me the big bucks.” Red headed for his rack to prep his gear when Sergeant Akintan burst from the command hut, hailing him.

  “Any luck?” asked Red.

  Akintan twisted his hand back and forth. “Sort of. Two choppers have been dispatched from Kano. They should be arriving in Ugurun soon with about thirty additional troops plus equipment.”

  “What about choppers for us?”

  Akintan shook his head. “None available.” He lowered his voice. “I got the impression that Command wants to solve this problem themselves. They don’t want to be seen as needing Americans to protect their own children.”

  Red frowned. He could understand the sentiment, but this was no time to let pride get in the way when children were at stake. “Well, there’s no point in arguing. What about the transports?”

  Akintan smiled. “Approved.”

  Red slapped him on the shoulder. “That’s great news. Get your men ready, I want to be on the road in fifteen minutes. Bring weapons, ammo, and anything that might help us clear roads like shovels, axes, chainsaws, anything you can think of.”

  “Consider it done.” Akintan split away, barking orders as Red headed for the barracks and activated his comms. “Control, this is Zero-Two. Let Zero-One know that we’re on our way. ETA unknown, over.”

  “Copy that, Zero-Two. I know they’ll be happy to hear that.”

  “Copy that, Control. Zero-Two, out.”

  Red checked his watch and cursed as he entered the barracks, praying that Wings could get the chopper working far sooner than he expected, otherwise, they might arrive long after the battle had been lost, and instead of helping friends, they might be relegated to identifying them.

 

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