Secret of the Oil: Prequel to the Donavan Chronicles Read Online Free Page A

escorted back to the airport, and I’ll convey your exploits to the admiral. I wish you a safe return to America.”
    Matt saluted the general and left. He wanted to ask the general not to tell the admiral but felt it would be disrespectful to try to get a general to not do something. He hoped he would be away from the admiral’s office before he learned about the incident.
    The trip back to the airport passed uneventfully compared to the ride out. As Matt and his escort passed the site of the ambush, now illuminated by multiple spotlights, Matt could plainly see the bullet holes in the truck and wondered how he had escaped. Luck was on his side this night.
    Exhausted and bruised, he managed to sleep most of the way on the flight back to Washington. People at the airport looked at his disheveled clothing and some even noticed the blood on his suit, but Matt didn’t care. He just wanted to get home.
    The following afternoon, Washington time, he delivered the signed receipt to the NSA director’s office, coming directly from the airport. Afterwards he reported to the Center at the Defense Intelligence Agency. He reviewed the events of the previous days in his mind as he sat at his desk. The general was not present and left word for him to come in tomorrow and brief her on his trip. The whole trip was not exactly the anticipated milk run, he thought wryly. Most milkmen aren’t ambushed by automatic fire in a foreign country. They don’t kill two attackers and capture one terrorist while delivering bottles, or, in this case, “automotive parts.” The package must be a hell of a sight more important than he had imagined. What had he been carrying? It was certainly not car parts.
    Matt thought of going home to his small townhouse to freshen up and to change into clean clothes, but in the interest of not looking like a train wreck around the Pentagon, he changed into a civilian set of clothes he kept in his locker at the Center. He would clean up at home later.
    The weekend was about to start and he planned to visit his daughter. That seemed like a great idea. He couldn’t believe how fast she was growing up. This would be a great weekend to spend some time with her and let the scars heal. Besides, he wanted to tell her about his trip to Saudi Arabia, as she always wanted to hear about the places he went. He’d fail to mention anything about the terrorist’s attack.
    Before going home, he decided to check in at the Command Center just to see if anything new had happened in Saudi Arabia. One never knew what “automotive parts” might do, did one? He smiled. He also wanted to see Bridget, whom he’d learned was visiting the Command Center.
    It was 1:30 p.m. on Friday afternoon in Washington and 9:30 p.m. in Iraq.

CHAPTER 2
    TARA LAWSON
    FRIDAY – 9:30 P.M.
    BAGHDAD, IRAQ
    U.S. Air Force Major Tara Lawson squirmed on the wood stool. Her butt was getting numb. Camouflage cream covered her face, and the black crayon stripes sliced above and below her almond-shaped blue eyes. A black beanie cap lay in her lap to cover her blond hair when needed. She had asked for this meeting to be earlier in the evening, but her contact had insisted on 9:30 p.m. She pulled the black wool jacket tighter around her shoulders. Baghdad was cool in the evening.
    Outside, no lights shone on the unpaved lane that passed for a street. Only faint moonlight brightened this autumn night. Tara focused on the door of the house opposite, then looked up and down the street. She’d arrived two hours earlier to ensure that no one was in that house and that it was not under surveillance. Now she felt confident on both counts.
    Taking a deep breath, Tara tried to ease the tension in her back. But nothing would help her nose. Baghdad smelled particularly foul at night, she thought for the hundredth time—a combination of spicy food, garbage, dogs, urine, manure, dead animals, and who knew what else. Shutting her mind to it, she adjusted the infrared goggles