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expert armorers had customized this Zoaf with increased accuracy, phosphate corrosion-resistant finish on the internal parts, contrast sights, and a threaded barrel for mounting a silencer and the ability to hold fifteen rounds.
    His main weapon would be an AKMS, similar to the AK-47 except this modern version had a side-folding buttstock, which gave Alex the option of making the weapon more compact for ease in parachuting and working in tight areas such as indoors. As with the Zoaf, SEAL Team Six’s armorers customized this AKMS with improved sling attachment points, a Picatinny rail with low-profile holographic and laser sights attached, and an enhanced fire selector switch for easier use and more accurate firing. When in Rome, look like the Romans, but carry a bigger stick.
    John carefully put the backpack nuke in his backpack. Of course, the United States could launch a missile with a nuclear warhead at the facility, but it would be difficult to disguise the source of the missile.
    Danny is probably trustworthy, but shit happens, Alex thought. He double-checked the route to Leila’s house and encouraged the others to do the same.
    Pancho sat nibbling on Keebler cookies. “Can you name them?” Pancho asked.
    Alex rolled his eyes.
    â€œName what?” John asked.
    â€œThe Keebler elves. All eighteen of them.”
    John corrected him. “All nineteen.”
    â€œName them.”
    â€œOkay. J. J. Keebler, Ernie Keebler, Fryer Tuck, Zoot, Ma Keebler,Elmer Keebler, Buckets, Fast Eddie, Roger . . .” John started to slow down.
    â€œThat’s nine,” Pancho said. “Don’t forget Doc, Zack, Flo, Leonardo, and Elwood.”
    â€œProfessor, Edison, Larry, and Art.”
    â€œSee, that’s only eighteen,” Pancho said, grinning.
    â€œThere’s one more. I just forgot his name.”
    Alex couldn’t believe that two grown men were arguing about cookies and elves. After Alex made sure he was ready to go, he lay down on the cold deck, closed his eyes, and got some rest—he had no idea when he’d get a chance to rest again, so he didn’t waste the opportunity. His adrenaline threatened to keep him awake, but he fought it and caught some sleep—only to be awakened by hunger, so he ate a Meal, Ready to Eat (MRE), also known as Meal, Refusing to Exit because the MREs had been known to cause constipation. More than the food, Alex made sure he drank a lot of water, saturating his cells with it.
    They flew nine hours to Germany, stopped to refuel, then continued eight more hours to Afghanistan.
    During a stretch of Alex’s sleep, John woke him and said, “We’re nearing ten thousand feet.”
    Alex put his helmet and mask on—special molds had been made so that each member’s helmet and mask fit exactly. He connected the hose on his mask to an inline tube on the plane’s wall (bulkhead) and started breathing pure oxygen to purge nitrogen from his bloodstream and avoid decompression sickness. Alex was also saturating himself with oxygen, so if he got low, he wouldn’t black out as fast.
    He had been through training that simulated a poor mask seal on his face, depriving him of oxygen—it made him feel euphoric. It was like being Superman. He really thought he could fly. If one guy broke seal, everyone had to restart the pre-breathing process, a process that could last thirty minutes to an hour and a half. Alex hadseen a SEAL with a new mask that didn’t fit properly. Fortunately it was a training op, and the guy passed out before he jumped. The commanding officer had to make a decision whether to abort the mission or carry on without him. They carried on the mission without him. And he’d heard from John about a training op where a West Coast SEAL had jumped, then gone unconscious. An Emergency Deployment Device (EDD) should have automatically deployed his parachute for him; however, the EDD failed, and he