Read SEAL Team Bravo: Black Ops VI - Guantanamo for Free Online

was to prevent inmates trying to get out. Not people entering from outside.
    "José," he hissed, "someone is coming. Over there, from behind that hut."
    He peered through the gloom and could discern a helmeted figure walking toward them. He carried his rifle on his back, the barrel sticking up over his shoulder. It would take him a couple of seconds to level it ready to fire. José didn't plan to give him those seconds.
    "Shoot him," he whispered, "but make sure of your aim. If you miss, it'll alert the camp. Be quick, before he sees the hole I've cut in the fence and sounds the alarm."
    The other man nodded and lay prone on the ground. He aimed the silenced handgun in the direction of the guard and waited. The man came nearer. Surely, he must see the break in the fence, but he was humming a tune to himself, probably thinking about his home, his family, maybe his girlfriend. Anything but the grim realities of Guantanamo Bay. He was only feet away when suddenly he tensed. He looked in their direction, saw the break in the fence, and started to unsling his rifle.
    Diego fired, fired again, and then again. The Beretta 92FS was fitted with a sound suppressor, a product of the Yankee Hill Machine Company. It was good workmanship; the reports were soft and partially hidden by the noise of the wind and waves. The soldier fell to the ground with a clatter as his M-16 fell out of his hand. José breathed a sigh of relief that it hadn't fired and woken up the camp.
    "Hurry, get inside and hide the body. I'll give the signal. I pray to the Blessed Virgin those men are ready to come out. If the soldiers get wind of this, I doubt we'll even make it back out to sea."
    The shooter clambered through the hole in the fence and began dragging the body behind a nearby sand dune. The other Colombian took a small flashlight from his pouch and pressed the button twice. Then he waited. Diego joined him, looking around nervously.
    "I think we should go back. I heard something. It could be the Yankees."
    "Give it a few seconds. It may be them."
    He heard his friend muttering curses and complaining, but he ignored him. They saw the dark shadows moving silently toward them, a line of men crawling through the scrub and sand; men wearing distinctive orange prison uniforms. The first man reached them and smiled.
    "Allah be praised, you have come. My name is Omar Nasriri, and these are my fellow fighters."
    José shook the hand and nodded.
    "Everything is ready, but be quick. We had to kill a guard, and when he fails to report in, they'll search the camp for him."
    The man nodded. "Lead the way. You have the vessel?"
    "We have everything. And you can thank Señor Montez. I suspect his bank balance is bigger than God's."
    The Arab scowled at the comment but let it go. These men had come to free them, so he could give them some latitude. For now.
    If the blasphemy continues, I’ll kill them.
    José led the way across the sand down to the shore. Diego was right behind him, and then the line of escapees stumbling across the sand. They stared at the semi-submersible lying in the shallows.
    "You men have scuba equipment. How will we breathe underwater?"
    "You won't be going underwater; we will travel only partially submerged. It will take us less than an hour to reach Tortuguilla. There are people waiting there to take you on the next stage of the journey, and a change of clothes." He grinned, "Those orange jumpsuits are something of a giveaway. Don't worry, it is all worked out. My boss has been careful to make sure the arrangements are foolproof."
    Nasriri nodded. "That is good to know. You're not Muslims?"
    "Fuck no! We're Catholics, not camel jockeys. This is Cuba, not Sandland."
    "I understand."
    I understand more than you know. When this part of the operation is complete, I will kill him for his blasphemy. Infidels like this one do not deserve to live.
    "Omar! We have a problem."
    He turned to look at Abu Bakr, his second-in-command. Abu had helped the men