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Slade walked up behind Kwan and leaned close. “Or, we can put you in the lead, you know, you can play ‘pointman.’ I sure as hell won’t mind.” He intentionally bumped Kwan’s shoulder as he walked past him.

Grant took a deep breath, then decided reasoning might work. “Look. We may need you to translate. Understand?”

“Yeah. I understand,” Kwan answered.

“Wait a minute! Didn’t you tell your contact you’d be with us?”

“I’m still supposed to check in. The Agency wants to be kept informed.”

Grant was running out of patience. “The ChiComs are just waiting for you to transmit. Maybe you’d better think about what they’ll do if they find you.” Tired of the bullshit, Grant turned away. Adjusting his earpiece, he asked Novak, “Are they still in sight, Mike?”

“Yeah. But the guy on the roof is heading back toward the fire escape.”

Grant nodded. “Just keep watching.” He pointed to Slade and Diaz. “Ken, you and Frank will follow the UFs. The rest of us will try and stay parallel to you the next alley over just in case.”

“Roger that,” Slade responded.

With their NVGs in place and weapons drawn, the five men were ready. Grant gave the go ahead. “Let’s move.”

Chapter 13

They had hardly stepped outside, when rain began pounding buildings and streets, falling so heavily it was almost as dense as fog. It cascaded off rooftops, flooding alleys, carrying away anything in its path. Sounds of already weakened roofs could be heard cracking, collapsing from the constant pressure.

For Grant and the Team they were defenseless against the elements. Drenched from head to toe, they slogged through running water in pursuit of the two suspicious men. If it weren’t for the NVGs, Slade and Diaz would’ve lost sight of the two when the downpour started. The glasses helped to filter out the rain, giving them clear vision ahead.

After wiping dripping water away from his mouth, Grant pressed the PTT. “Four-One, Zero-Niner.”

“Go ahead, Zero-Niner,” Slade responded.

“You still have eyes on UFs?”

“Affirm. No deviation in course.”

“Copy that. Out.”

Just as suddenly as the downpour started, it began to let up, then stopped within seconds.

After nearly fifteen minutes of walking, Slade called Grant. “Zero-Niner, Four-One.”

“Go ahead, Four-One.”

“UFs inside.”

“Copy that. Hold position. A.T. approaching at your six.”

“Roger. Four-One holding position.”

“Zero-Niner, out.”

Grant, Adler and Stalley hustled across one alley, then down the side alley. Leaning his head past the corner of the building, Grant saw Slade and Diaz. He motioned with his arm for Adler and Stalley to follow him. Running alongside the old houses, they caught up to the two men.

Slade walked back to Grant, whispering, “They’re in the group of houses directly across from us, second one from the right.”

The house was a two story, as were the houses on either side. They all appeared to be in the same rundown condition.

Grant went to the opposite side of the narrow alley, easing himself along the building, until he reached the corner, where he finally had a better view of the target. One door plus one window on first floor, one window on second floor. It was the same type house they used for surveillance of the Consulate.

Questions still remained: How many men were inside? Where were they located? And where were the SEALs? Grant was betting they were on the second floor.

Leaning back, he closed his eyes, trying to get his thoughts in order. Then, he joined the other men.

He said quietly, “Doc, you go with Ken in case our guys need you. Both of you go around the back. See if there’s access into any of those buildings, even roof access. Make it quick.” The two men gave a nod.

Grant, Adler, and Diaz took up positions close to the end of the building, aiming their weapons. “Go!” Grant whispered.

Slade and Stalley turned and ran back down the alley. Even though the windows on the target were behind shutters, they couldn’t take the chance. Somebody could be watching. Their plan was to go two blocks over then make their approach.

Suddenly, they all heard James in their earpieces. “Zero-Niner, Six-Eight!”

“Go ahead, Six-Eight.”

“Guest has departed!” James called as he was racing down the stairs.

Grant pressed on his earpiece, not believing what he was hearing. “Say again, Six-Eight!”

“Guest has departed! Wait one!”

Opening the door slowly, James poked his head out, looking both ways down the alley. Too late. Kwan had disappeared. James ducked back into the house. “Lost him!”

Grant tilted his head back, banging it against the wall in total frustration and anger before he responded, “Copy that, Six-Eight. Hold position. Zero-Niner, out.”

Adler and Diaz moved closer. In the next alley, Slade and Stalley came to a standstill, both of them shaking their heads. Everyone waited for Grant to make a decision.

His decision was a no-brainer — find the SEALs. If Kwan wanted to contact the Agency, there wasn’t a damn thing the Team could do about it. The concern was whether that transmission would be intercepted by the ChiComs — with the real possibility they’d locate Kwan.

The men had to get their asses in gear, for two important reasons: If Kwan was captured, he could ‘spill’ his guts. And second, daylight was approaching.

Grant gave the order. “A.T. Proceed as planned. Go!”

Slade and Stalley nodded to each other. Taking one last look down both ends of the street, and seeing that no one was outside the house, they took off.

Grant and Adler were on one side of the alley, Diaz opposite them. “Frank, watch the road,” Grant said, as he and Adler focused their attention on the target house.

Alder used his .45 to point up at a slight angle. “Light. Second floor.” Just as quickly as the light appeared, it went dark again.

Grant leaned forward slightly, seeing Slade and Stalley just before they disappeared down the alley across the street. “Four-One. Zero-Niner.”

“Go ahead, Zero-Niner.”

“Light on second floor; now dark. You copy?”

“Copy that. Out,” Slade responded in a whisper.

He and Stalley began edging their way along the wall, slowly and cautiously. Once at the back corner, Slade took a breath then leaned forward, holding his .45 with both hands, keeping it close to his cheek. “Clear,” he whispered. He motioned Stalley to follow him.

Across the street, Grant, Adler and Diaz continued to monitor the area, continued to look for lights or movement inside. They waited impatiently for word from Slade and Stalley.

“Zero-Niner, Four-One,” Slade whispered.

“Go ahead, Four-One.”

“Panel truck behind target. Empty.”

“Roger that.”

They just found their transportation.

* * *

Standing next to the back door of the end building, Slade hoped it was unlocked just like the door at their “hideout.” He slowly turned the rusted knob, then eased the door open.

Preparing to enter the room, he aimed his weapon straight ahead. Looking through the NVGs, he took a step into the darkened room, and swiveled his head. “Clear,” he whispered. Stalley followed closely behind him.

They moved close to the wall that divided it from the target house. Putting their ears next to it, they listened. Slade held up two fingers, then one more. Three men. It was impossible to know if those were the only ones inside. He had his doubts.