Yet Reel didn’t aim there. Her muzzle was pointed at the front window of the ASV. The glass was multi-layered ballistic glass, but the Raufoss’s tungsten core could punch a hole in eight inches of concrete at four hundred meters or an inch of steel at two thousand yards. Well, she was a helluva lot closer than that. And glass, even ballistic glass, was not steel or concrete.
“Do it, baby, do it,” she murmured as she slowly pressed the trigger.
The round blew right through the glass, probably killing one of the crew on contact. And she followed that up with two more rounds where the missing armored plates had been.
Its ability to pierce armor was not the reason she’d selected the Raufoss. Like the rounds she’d used to take out the Toyotas, the Raufoss had an incendiary component. But the Raufoss also had a high explosive charge built in. It could take out aircraft, choppers, and ships.
And, as it turned out, M1117s.
The trio of explosives detonated and the ammo and the fuel in the vehicle ignited a millisecond later.
Reel had to look away and bury herself in the sand to escape from being blinded by the flash. Debris, flaming objects, and body parts rained down all around.
She finally leapt up, sprinted away, and threw herself under one of the destroyed and still smoldering Humvees as large objects struck it and the ground all around.
After a minute things stopped falling and it grew quiet.
Another minute passed, and Reel dragged herself out from under the Humvee.
She looked around at her destroyed team.
She looked at the body parts of her attackers.
She looked at all the burning vehicles.
She was still sitting there when a chopper flew over and swept a light over the area.
When the SEALs fast-roped down to her she didn’t acknowledge them, though she did let them attach a harness to her. The winch was engaged and she was swept into the air and hauled aboard the chopper.
A minute later they were heading back to base, and to safety.
Jessica Reel didn’t say a word the whole way.
CHAPTER
6
“Traitor in the ranks, I’m afraid.”
The dour-faced colonel looked across the desk at Reel.
“One of the Iraqis. We traced some communications. False intel on the ISIS leader at that compound. They were going to hit the SEAL team, too, but apparently they were in and out too fast. That left your team as the sole target. They obviously wanted to take you out as our primary sniper. It was amazing that we didn’t pick up their presence on the earlier recon. They were quite well hidden. But it was night and that area is hardly secure, not that any place here really is.”
The man fidgeted with a pen on his desk as he shot glances at Reel, who had said nothing the whole time.
“We never received a distress signal from your team. I imagine you hardly had the chance. But the battle was seen and reported. And the SEAL team that had deployed to attack the compound was sent back to help. I’m sorry it came too late to help your team.”
He glanced at Reel to see if these words had dented the invisible armor that seemed to surround her.
They hadn’t.
He had been fully briefed on Jessica Reel, to the extent that he was cleared for it.
He knew some of what she had done in the past. He well knew what her lethal capabilities were. The colonel had a ballpark understanding of how many people she had killed over the course of her career. And he knew what she meant to a certain intelligence agency whose sole mission was to keep America safe.
But what he didn’t know, what he could never know… was Jessica Reel. And what made her tick. Here, clearances didn’t matter, because there was no file and no briefing that could fill in those blanks.
He cleared his throat. “I have to say, your performance was truly remarkable, Agent Reel. You single-handedly took out three attack vehicles, and an M1117 and about forty enemy fighters. I’ve never seen anything like it. Frankly, I’m not sure we have enough commendations to award you,” he added with a nervous chuckle. “If you were military they’d be talking about the Medal of Honor. I’m certain of that.”
Finally, Reel stirred and looking directly at him said, “I would have thought, since I failed to save a single member of my team, that any talk of commendations or medals would be complete horseshit. And the Medal of Honor is not given out for saving your own ass, sir.”
The dour face now turned red. “That was hardly your fault, Agent Reel. What you did was indisputably heroic.”
“We’ll have to agree to disagree on that.” Reel stood. “Is that all, sir?”
“What? Oh, um, yes.”
As she headed to the door he added, “You’re heading back stateside. Not my call. Above my pay grade.”
She didn’t turn or answer him. Reel just shut the door behind her and kept walking.
Reel had boarded a jet in Iraq, flown to London, and boarded another jet there. The plane she was on now quickly shed altitude as it passed over New York City en route to its final destination right outside of DC.
Jessica was not the only passenger on the government wings, but she was the only one to look out the window at this point. Though she really couldn’t make it out clearly at this altitude, in her mind’s eye she took in lower Manhattan where the Twin Towers had once stood. Now One World Trade Center soared 1,776 gloriously symbolic feet into the air like a defiant fist upraised to the clear sky. Fittingly, it was the tallest building in the city, and also in North America. Indeed, there were only three other buildings taller in the world. And none of them carried the gravitas of the one she was visualizing now.
Horrible memories tagged to hopes for a better future were represented down there.
Yet right now Reel did not hold out much hope for a better future.
War kind of did that to you.
It messed with you in a way that not much else ever could.
Later, on final approach into Dulles, the jet passed by the airport and banked to the east so it could land into the wind.
Reel was the last passenger off. The rest were a mixture of uniforms and civilian contractors all deployed or employed in the fight against terror.
It was a war Reel had finally realized halfway over the Atlantic her side could never really win.
We kill ten and twenty more take their place.
It was an even more insidious version of Medusa that had leapt from the pages of mythology and landed squarely in the twenty-first century.
It was the works of George Orwell and Franz Kafka smashed together and then spun out into the worst nightmare of all time.
She carried her small bag and took a cab to a hotel in DC. She checked in and went to her room.
She tossed her bag in the corner and fell back on the bed. She felt like she hadn’t slept in a month. And in a sense, she hadn’t. Snipers didn’t really sleep, even off duty. You just… existed… until the next shot.
She rose, popped open the minibar, chugged a ten-dollar bottle of Fiji water, ate a six-dollar candy bar followed by four Advil, and lay back on the bed.
She closed her eyes.
And the whole damn thing was replayed in her mind. And the outcome was always the same.
Everybody dies except me.
Enemy and ally.
She went through each step, wondering what she could have done differently to change what had ended up being a slaughter.
For both sides.
Sole survivor. She didn’t wear that label well.