Deadly Force Read Online Free Page A

grounds, a parade ground, and about three thousand troops. They slowed as they came to the south gate. The guard there, in a clean and pressed uniform, noted the number of the Army unit painted plainly on the bumper and waved them through.
    â€œThat hasn’t changed since we were stationed here,” Mojombo said. “No security at all. Not even a good try. Swing past the motor pool. We need a second truck. Two men will drop off the tailgate and negotiate with the guard on duty for a six-by-six.”
    â€œSo far, so good, Captain,” Gabu said. “We’ll have supplies to keep us rolling for six months.”
    â€œLet’s hope we can get our revolution going long before that, Gabu. It all depends on how much the people of our country support us, and help supply us. We have a lot of work to do yet.”
    The truck stopped at the motor pool, and two men in cammies and with sub guns dropped off the truck, which moved away to Building 426, marked “Supply Depot.”
    Gabu backed the truck up to a side door, and Mojombo and two men went to the front door. The guard saluted when he saw the captain’s bars on Mojombo’s shoulders.
    â€œI’m here to see the officer in charge,” Mojombo said.
    The guard frowned. “Sorry, sir, he isn’t here tonight. He reports to duty at 0800.”
    â€œSoldier, I’m on a special night-training exercise and I need to pick up supplies for the troops. I guess you’ll have to sign the order form.”
    â€œNot allowed to do that, sir.” The soldier had just got the words out when one of Mojombo’s men stepped in behind him, caught his hair, and pulled his head back, then slit his throat from one carotid artery to the other. The soldier’s eyes went wide, his voice coming out in a whisperas rich red blood spurted four feet into the air from both carotids with every beat of his heart.
    The soldier dropped his rifle and put his hands up to his throat trying to hold in the blood. He slumped to the ground as the vital blood supply to his brain dropped lower and lower. He would be dead in a minute and a half, Mojombo knew. They dragged the body into some shadows and slid inside the unlocked front door. One man ran to the loading dock area and lifted the truck door. There were now two trucks at the dock waiting for supplies. Ten men stormed inside and went to selected sections of the huge warehouse where they picked out the designated supplies. Mostly they took dozens of cases of canned and packaged food, sacks and boxes of sugar, flour, cornmeal, and other staples.
    In another section they found submachine guns and ammo. They piled them in boxes and took loads of RPGs, flares, armloads of uniforms, boots, and another case of handheld radios.
    â€œLet’s move,” Mojombo shouted. “We could have company at any time.”
    A minute later a jeep rounded the corner of the huge warehouse, its lights picking up the truck at the loading dock. Mojombo walked out to the front of the truck and waited for the jeep. It stopped a dozen feet away and a man stepped out. He wore the dress uniform of an officer in the Sierra Bijimi Army. He walked up and saluted smartly.
    â€œSir, Officer of the Guard on rounds. I don’t recall any orders for loading trucks tonight.”
    â€œAt ease, Lieutenant. Special orders on a night-training exercise. It has to be realistic or training is no good. We load here, drive to another warehouse, get it checked out by the umpire on duty there, and then drive it back here and unload. From a practical standpoint it’s absolutely useless, but then it’s training.”
    â€œYes, sir, I understand. I’ll need your unit number and name for my report.”
    Mojombo saw one of his men approach the jeep from the driver’s side. Mojombo drew his 9mm Glock from his holster and shot the officer twice in the chest before the man sensed any danger. Two more rounds sounded at thejeep,