Read Task Force Desperate for Free Online

“We should have brought along a couple women and at least one fat guy. That’d make it more believable.”
    There was a general chuckle. We did still look rather overtly military, even with the face fur and civvies. It could get dicey, especially after what had just happened. Which was why we were armed to the teeth.
    “What about local authorities?” Alek asked.
    “Mostly on the north end of town,” Imad replied, “protecting the president and the parliament. It sounds like a lot of what got the bad guys their crowd to hit Lemonier was a lot of grumbling going around about Guellah’s fourth term, and that he’s being backed by foreigners. There are a lot of very poor people here, more and more of them Issas getting out of Somalia. It’s been a very fertile recruiting ground for AQ and the Brotherhood.” He nodded, as though remembering something. “The Legion seems to have largely gone to ground in the north as well. Not many of them on the streets these days. The National Army is out, and there are some Legion advisors, but for the most part the troops are staying inside the wire.”
    He pointed to the center of the city on the map. “Most of the slums are here, spreading out to the south. More than likely, the hostages are in there somewhere, so we’re going to have to go in at some point. For now, leave that to me. You guys will stand out too much. There are some wealthier parts of town where the Arabs hang out, however, on the edge of the European quarter, that you might have some luck with. I don’t have to tell you the drill.”
    He didn’t. We had done some similar things in Mexico. It was always dicey, trying to get somebody to talk to you about fanatical murderers who might be a few tables over, for all you know. Sometimes it was the only way, though.
    “Any more questions?” Imad asked. When there were none, he simply said, “Good hunting,” and walked out the door, already adjusting his gait to match the locals.
    Alek looked around at the team. “We are short on time, but we’re going to take a couple of hours to catch some rack time before we go out. We’ll be in pairs, so everybody needs to be on their toes. Hit the sack.”
    I picked my rack, hauled my gear in, took off my boots, and dropped onto the cot as the call to prayer started to wail outside the window.

Chapter 3
     
    T he souk was as crowded, dirty, and noisy as any I’d been in. Imad hadn’t been kidding; even a bare two miles from the European quarter, Larry and I stood out. Of course, Larry being six-foot-six, two hundred fifty pounds, white, goateed, and balding, he’d stand out just about anywhere. I am much more medium-sized, but white, black-haired, and blue-eyed still stood out here.
    It didn’t seem to be bothering most of the locals much. I suppose the khat helped. We got shouted at in French or English about every ten yards, rarely anything of any sort of importance or even meaning. A man in a soccer jersey walked up to us and said, “I am a policeman. Show me your passport.”
    Larry tried to just ignore him. As big and crazy as the bald galoot is, he’s really kind of a nice guy. I am not. “Fuck off,” I snarled. I took a step toward him, bunching my fists. I was about to cave his head in, and it showed. A bit of overkill, actually, I could probably have broken him in half by bumping into him, but jackasses trying to be authoritative set me off. His eyes got wide, and he scrambled away.
    “Way to win the hearts and minds, there, buddy,” Larry said, as I glared after the little fuck.
    I tried to shake off the burst of anger. The heat was getting to me, I told myself. Well, that and the fact that he was the third fucker today to try that. Add in the stress of walking around with just Larry, in a city that had slaughtered a couple of thousand US and allied servicemen and women barely a week before, and I was on a bit of a hair trigger. Larry must have sensed what I was thinking, because his huge hand