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

soon to capitulate, not until Will was done.
    "What is this?" he shouted, "We haven't done anything wrong. We're American citizens. Is there some law against enjoying a cold beer?"
    The officer stared at him for a moment. Despite the heat, he wore full uniform, complete with peaked cap, rows of medal ribbons, and mirrored shades to hide his eyes. He had a pistol in a button flap holster but clearly didn't feel the need to draw it.
    Why should he? He’s backed up by forty men, and all heavily armed. And then there's the machine gun.
    "I told you to lie down on the ground, American. Do we have to shoot you?"
    Nolan lowered his arms very slowly and held them out wide, palms upward, the universal gesture that said, 'Look at me, I'm unarmed, and not a threat to you'.
    "Yeah, I'll do that. But first, you gotta tell me what this is all about."
    The Panamanian officer sighed. "We have a warrant from the Colombians."
    "A warrant? What kind of a warrant?"
    "An extradition warrant, I already told you."
    "Let me see it?"
    "See what?"
    "The warrant. Surely I have a legal entitlement to view the warrant? How do I know it exists?"
    The man sighed again. "Very well." He shouted across to a young trooper. "Corporal Morales, hand me the warrant."
    The man looked puzzled. "Warrant? But Señor Capitano, it is in your desk at the barracks! You…"
    "Enough! Bring it here. We'll wait. Rapido!"
    The corporal ran to a military truck parked nearby, spoke to the driver, and then climbed aboard. The vehicle drove away in a cloud of blue exhaust fumes.
    "This will take some time. I told you to lie flat on the ground."
    Nolan looked at the captain. Even though the mirrored shades hid his eyes, it was obvious he was pissed. He'd made the officer look stupid in front of his men, and he'd want to recover a degree of his macho Latino pride. The other paramilitaries had caught his mood of anger and held their weapons in that alert posture that precedes the start of the shooting.
    Touchy bunch of bastards. I need to be careful.
    He kept his hands wide and clear of his body. "You're absolutely right. As soon as I see that warrant, I'll instruct my friends to come out, and we'll all lie on the ground exactly as you ordered."
    Play along with them, whatever they want. Every minute we gain for us is a minute less for them. Provided Admiral Jacks can intervene.

    * * *

    Daoud Khan was in more pain than he'd believed possible. It was one of those accidents that shouldn't have happened, but it did. He'd stepped in a tiny hole made by a small animal and tripped, fracturing his ankle. He compounded the problem by banging his head against a rock as he fell. When he came to, he was in the camp infirmary, chained to the cot by his wrists and ankles. He had no idea of the extent of his injuries.
    He would remain silent. He knew the grim-faced soldiers who loomed over him wanted to know one thing. How they'd got away, and where were they going. No way would he give them anything, not ever. He was a soldier of Allah and would die before he ratted on his fellow fighters. A stab of pain almost forced him to cry out. He admitted even the soldiers of Allah may sometimes need medical treatment.
    He resisted the urge to scream in agony and tried to keep his voice steady, although he could feel the sweat running down his face and pooling inside his clothing. They would have noticed it, too. They were clever.
    "I need treatment, painkillers. Please, I must have something for the pain."
    He recognized the man standing nearest to him, wearing camo uniform, Colonel Robert E. 'Bobby' Shaftoe, the officer in charge of Gitmo. He was a Marine, tall, tough, and erect, with buzz cut graying hair. He was also a fitness fanatic who kept his unusual command running like a Swiss watch. Right now, the Swiss watch had broken. And he only had one man within reach who he could blame for his woes. Daoud Khan.
    "Sure, Mr. Khan. You can have all the painkillers you need. Just like your people would