The Lieutenant was also the unit comic. Fortunately, he kept his humorous side mostly hidden this close to the enemy's backyard.
"If you to stop them dead, I could use both Minimis. You won't need them inside the caves. You going in through the roof?"
"We are. Take the Minimis and the snipers. We don't want any squirters running around when they take to the hills."
"Copy that."
"And Domenico...keep it quiet until the last moment. No talking."
The Italian, famous for quoting Shakespeare, gave him a sly smile, "Action is eloquence. Shakespeare, Coriolanus."
"Lieutenant, get moving," he sighed.
Talley crept back to where his men waited and ordered Vince DiMosta and Jerry Ostrowski, the two snipers, to join Rovere. Both men carried the long, lethally accurate Arctic Warfare rifles. Firing heavy Lapua Magnum .338 rounds over Schmidt & Bender PM II night vision equipped telescopic sights; they rarely missed.
Two other men, Reynolds and Toussaint, carried the Minimis to join Rovere. Roy Reynolds, the big, black Delta Force Sergeant, built like a blockhouse and just as tough, and Nikki Toussaint, a recent recruit to Echo Six from the French Foreign Legion Paratroop Regiment. Both were experts with the Minimi Squad Automatic Weapons, the SAWs. The 5.56mm light machine guns were equipped with two hundred round box mags and could lay down a withering curtain of fire, enough to pin down any battlefield. Unlike most of the unit weapons, they were unsuppressed, for a reason. When the time came for the Minimis to open fire, the awe-inspiring roar of continuous machine gun fire tended to ruin the enemy's day.
Talley led the rest of the men forward in the scrambling climb up the rock face to reach the ventilation shaft. Guy Welland waited for the last man to begin climbing, and then almost ran up to join Talley. They clung grimly to the rocks, punished by the vicious winds that swirled down from the nearby mountain range. Guy took a line from his pack and fastened it to a rocky outcrop, then glanced at Talley.
"We're ready as we could be, Boss. You want me to go in first?"
"I'll do it."
He cocked his weapon, the Heckler and Koch MP7 he preferred for CQB, close quarters battle. The stubby submachine gun, fitted with an effective suppressor, fired a unique, lightweight armor-piercing round. He favored it for its ability to kill an enemy, no matter where they hid or what they used for cover. He slid down the narrow rope. Seconds later, his canvas boots touched the rocky floor of a tunnel six meters below. He glanced around, wrinkled his nose at the foul stench, and then clicked his mic twice.
Guy hurtled down the rope, his HK 416 leveled ready to fire even before his boots touched bottom. They waited in silence until the rest of the men were down. Talley led the way along the tunnel, heading deeper underground and bumped into a hostile. The man was lounging against the tunnel wall, drinking from a small metal flask and making no noise. The man stared in shock, opened his mouth to shout a warning, and Talley double tapped him in the chest. He catapulted forward to stop the man crying out in his death agonies, but before he reached him, he managed to let out a low gurgling scream. It was the last sound he would ever make. Guy silenced him with a single shot to the throat. Talley kicked the body aside, but already voices were calling out in alarm. The clock had started and was counting down.
"Guy, deploy four men here to guard our six. They'll be coming up behind us pretty soon. The rest of you, let's go before they start killing the prisoners."
He heard the SAS man order Garcia, Weathers, and two other troopers to take up a blocking position. He ran forward, acutely aware he still had no idea of where the prisoners were held.
If they’re here, he reminded himself.
He could only hope. As he reached a branch in the tunnel, more voices shouted in alarm from the right side. It was unlikely the hostiles would share the same space with