Tom Clancy, Grant Blackwood, David Michaels
Ghost Recon
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
The author would like to thank the following individuals whose technical advice and support made this book possible:
Mr. Tom Clancy
Mr. David Shanks
Mr. Tom Colgan
Mr. Michael Ovitz
Mr. Chris George
Ms. Sandra Harding
Mr. Robert Lang
Mr. James Ide, chief warrant officer, U.S. Navy (Ret.)
Major Mark Aitken, U.S. Army
Mr. Randy McElwee, master sergeant, U.S. Army (Ret.)
Major William R. Reeves, U.S. Army
Major Craig Walker, U.S. Air Force
Mr. Jean-Louis "Dutch" DeGay, Natick Soldier RDEC, U.S. Army
Mrs. Carole McDaniel (carole.mcdanieldesign.com)
William and Belinda Telep
From Blackhawk Products Group:
Mr. Mike Noel, U.S. Navy SEAL (Ret.)
Mr. Tom O'Sullivan, U.S. Army (Ret.)
Mr. Michael Janich, U.S. Army (Ret.)
Mr. Steve Matulewicz, command master chief, U.S. Navy SEAL (Ret.)
Mr. Brent Beshara, Canadian Special Forces (Ret.)
From Ubisoft:
Mr. Yves Guillemot
Mr. Gerard Guillemot
Mr. Serge Hascoet
Mr. Alexis Nolent
Mr. Olivier Henriot
Mr. Richard Dansky
Mr. Oliver Green
Mr. Cedrick Delmas
Mr. Terence Mosca
Mr. Eric Moutardier
Mr. Thomas Leroux-Hugon
Mr. Joshua Meyer
The Ubisoft Legal Department
I had rather have a plain, russet-coated captain that knows what he fights for, and loves what he knows, than that which you call a gentleman and is nothing else.
Be extremely subtle, even to the point of formlessness. Be extremely mysterious, even to the point of soundless-ness. Thereby you can be the director of the opponent's fate.
Minimal consumption — use the least amount of combat resources sufficient to accomplish the objective.
PERSONNEL LIST
Ghosts
Operation War Wraith
Alpha Team
Captain Scott Mitchell
Master Sergeant Jose "Joe" Ramirez
Sergeant First Class Paul Smith
Sergeant First Class Alex Nolan
Bravo Team
Master Sergeant Matt Beasley
Sergeant First Class Bo Jenkins
Staff Sergeant John Hume
Sergeant Marcus Brown
Charlie Team
Sergeant Alicia Diaz
Ghost Command
Lieutenant Colonel Harold "Buzz" Gordon
Major Susan Grey, D CO. 1st BN. 5th SFG
General Joshua Keating, Commander of USSOCOM
Dr. Gail Gorbatova, Defense Intelligence Agency (DIA)
Spring Tigers
Operation Pouncing Dragon
Major-General Chen Yi (Target Alpha)
Colonel Xu Dingfa (Target Bravo)
Vice Admiral Cai Ming (Target Charlie)
Major-General Wu Hui (Target Delta)
Deputy Director Wang Ya, CMC Political Department
Captain Fang Zhi
USS Montana Control Team
Commanding Officer Captain Kenneth Gummerson
Lieutenant Commander Sands, Executive Officer
Master Chief Suallo, Chief of the Boat
SEAL Chief Tanner
SEAL Chief Phillips
Lieutenant Jeff Moch, Predator Support
Lieutenant Justin Schumaker, Predator Support
MAPS
ONE
Master Sergeant Scott Mitchell blinked at the sweat in his eyes and pushed on through the rubber plants, their leathery leaves brushing against his boonie hat and cheek. Ahead lay a slight clearing in the otherwise dense, twilit jungle, and Mitchell used his M4A1's barrel to lift a thin branch as he hunkered down at the edge.
Captain Victor Foyte, his detachment commander, moved ahead beside an uneven stretch of wilting palm fronds still dripping from a storm that had rolled in several hours ago. "Ricochet, this is Road Warrior 06," the captain whispered into his radio. "Think I see something. And I hear some buzzing, like flies. Let's check it out, over."
"Right with you, Boss," answered Mitchell.
Although Foyte outranked him, Mitchell was the team sergeant, responsible for fighting all twelve members of Operational Detachment Alpha (ODA) 574. The captain and warrant officer coordinated with the twelve-man Filipino and Taiwanese teams they'd been cross-training with for the past two weeks.
Mitchell started forward as up to his right a snake coiled around an overhanging limb, its tongue fluttering. Special Forces operators ate bad guys for breakfast and snakes for supper; consequently, they weren't unnerved by either. Nevertheless, Mitchell grimaced and got out of there to join the captain.
Barely three steps later, a whoosh of musty air, a rustle of leaves, and the sharp crack of a rope sent lightning bolts through his gut. He looked up and gasped.
The captain had been moving toward a pole stuck in the ground. Atop that pole was a human head with long, brown hair flowing around it.
A twenty-one-year-old American missionary had recently been captured by Abu Sayyaf, the local pseudo-Islamist terrorist group affiliated with al Qaeda. Military and police forces had been combing the island, looking for her and for Abu Sayyaf's stronghold, hidden somewhere deep in the mountainous interior.
It seemed the captain had found the missing woman — and much more. A rope had snapped taut around one of his ankles, and now he was being hurled three meters into the air, screaming, "Ambush!"
Mitchell was about to get on the radio when the captain swung forward, a human pendulum heading straight for a tree impaled by rows of razor-sharp punji stakes now revealed as fronds strung up by more ropes fell away — all part of the carefully designed booby trap.
Captain Victor Foyte was only twenty-four years old, and in the next breath he slammed back-first into the punji stakes, the foot-long pieces of sharpened wood driving into his arms, neck, and torso.
The team had been operating light, forgoing body armor in the rainy, hundred-plus-degree jungle. Foyte shrieked and gurgled as the stakes grew slick with his blood.
Chief Warrant Officer 02 James Alvarado, who'd been positioned about a dozen meters behind them, burst forward crying, "Captain!" Alvarado cut loose multiple rounds below the tree where Foyte now hung, inverted and bleeding to death.
Again, Mitchell keyed his mike, ready to issue orders, but Alvarado's gunfire cut him off.
This was Mitchell's first live mission as a Special Forces operator. He was an experienced infantryman and team leader from an Opposing Force (OPFOR) recon unit at Fort Irwin. He already had an impressive resume and was hoping to make a name for himself in the Special Forces community — yet in a flash, he'd already lost his first CO.
A strange thumping noise sounded as Alvarado ceased fire and advanced into the clearing. The warrant suddenly clutched his neck, where a tiny dart extended from between his fingers. He screamed as he tugged it out.