Read Afghan Storm (Nick Woods Book 3) for Free Online Page B

small, almost-imperceptible hump. Some kind of netting barely flapping in the
wind, with what appeared to be several men hiding in its shadows.
     
    Nick Woods
and his team had given up the idea of concealment and were no longer lying
motionless. They had been spotted, and now it was time to fight. Red, Marcus,
and Truck now faced the same direction, watching their backtrail from under the
net.
    They had
shoved packs in front of them for cover, as well as cushioned rifle rests, and
pulled ammo out from the pockets of their packs.
    Truck yanked
out a big piece of beef jerky and threw it into his mouth, then while prone,
pushed himself forward into his RPK machine gun, using his toes to press
forward and apply pressure against the bipod legs.
    Red popped a
cigarette in his mouth and lit it. It was his first cigarette in nearly two
weeks, and he relished the nicotine rush. Besides, he’d always believed that he
shot better when he smoked.
    Marcus
checked their rear and stuck his head out from the net, looking up and down the
hill. He wanted to find the best egress route in case they couldn’t stop the
villagers.
    And Nick
went into his own world. Despite
his role as the leader, Nick was, at his core, a sniper first. And in
situations like this, it was not possible to focus on sniping individual
targets, while at the same time monitor the overall situation as necessary when
in command. Thankfully with the vast expertise of each individual and the
cohesion they had as a team, there wasn’t really much to command. And whatever
leadership was needed when Nick was otherwise engaged, was instinctively picked
up by Nick’s more than capable second-in-command, Marcus.
    Nick had
laid six, ten-round magazines to his left and eased behind the Dragunov weapon
he carried. He was the only man on the team toting a sniper rifle, and now he
felt glad that he’d made the choice to bring it.
    Marcus was
watching the group of villagers through his binoculars when he said, “Mark the
older one with the white turban and scraggly beard as the leader.”
    Nick smiled
to himself, grateful to have a man like Marcus in S3 assisting him. Nick moved
his scope toward the man in question.
    Marcus
scanned the group of villagers topping the crest of a hill. “I count at least
thirty, maybe more. Hard to tell with them all moving around.”
    “Distance?”
Red asked.
    “Maybe
twelve or fifteen hundred yards?” Marcus said, some doubt in his voice. “Nick?
What do you say?”
    Nick tried
to use the Dragunov’s scope to measure the height of the men and assess the
range better, but the targets weren’t being cooperative. And he hadn’t drawn a
range card as he would have had he been in a true sniper capacity. Range cards
had notable landmarks and pieces of cover with the correct distance to within
mere yards. When the fighting began, the cards could make all the difference in
the world, since thinking that boulder was 500 yards away instead of 700 was a
big deal and enough to cause you to miss.
    “Nick?”
Marcus asked again.
    “Sounds like
a good guess,” he replied. “Definitely too far to shoot right now. But once
they start down the draw, they’ll be in range pretty quickly.”
     

 
     
     
    Chapter 14
     
    None of the
tribes around Tariq recognized the government of Pakistan. And they certainly
didn’t follow its laws.
    In fact, even
as far back as 1999, unhappy tribal fighters from this area had attacked
government offices in the capital city of Islamabad. The insurgent reputation
of the tribal regions was well-founded, and the anger was constantly stoked by
the numerous madrassas that dotted the area. These religious schools created
many of the devout believers from which the Taliban drew many of its recruits.
    The tribes’
hostility for the Pakistani government was only surpassed by their hatred for
America.
    It was
America who continually supported and propped up Israel. It was America that
had led the effort to place sanctions