One Rough Man Read Online Free Page A

without drama.”
    “Yeah, but he’s the only one with a perfect record.” Kurt smiled. “Terrorists can run from him, but they just die tired.”
    “Well, there you go. Let me handle Standish. You handle the terrorists. It’s worked pretty well so far. We haven’t had another major attack in close to ten years.”
    Kurt grew somber. “Don’t kid yourself, sir. We’ve been lucky. Ever since 9/11 we’ve been hunting terrorists more concerned with their place in history than conducting a well-thought-out attack. They’ve been happy just to shove some explosives in their underwear. This guy getting so close to radiological material scares the shit out of me. Some lone wolf gets his hands on WMD and his place in history won’t have to be well thought out.”
    “I know. It keeps me up at night, too, trust me.”
    “What keeps me up at night is another Khalid Sheikh Mohammed. Someone who understands the second- and third-order effects of an attack and has the patience and skill to make it happen. Someone who isn’t satisfied with just bringing down a single airplane.”
    Kurt went to the windows overlooking the Oval Office patio. “That man is out there. Planning right now. Studying our weaknesses. If he gets his hands on a weapon of mass destruction, we’ll learn the real meaning of terror.”

5
    K nuckles was coordinating the garage hit when I felt my pager vibrate in my pocket. I pulled it out and saw a word I never would have expected: ENDEX. Huh. That’s never happened before .
    We were on our culmination exercise, something that was considered sacred. This was the final exercise after three months of working out tactics, techniques, and procedures before deploying overseas on a specific mission. Now we were being ordered back in the middle of our last training run. It’s like someone telling the Super Bowl team that they had to vacate the field on their final practice before the game.
    “Break—break—break. All elements, all elements, this is Pike. ENDEX, ENDEX, ENDEX. We got an alert. Return to home. Head straight to the conference room. Acknowledge.”
    Four of them replied with their call sign and a simple “Roger.” Knuckles was last, and I knew I wasn’t getting a one-word response.
    “ENDEX? What the hell? We won’t get an ENDEX in a real-world situation.”
    I smiled, knowing he had spent the better part of the day dressed like a homeless man, stinking of whatever disgusting filth he could find to smear on his body. “I hear you. I just got paged. I don’t know what it’s about. I’ll swing by and pick you up. I don’t think anyone else wants to ride with you.”
    Before Knuckles could answer there was a chorus of calls claiming their cars were full or they were already moving. He finally broke in. “Okay. Fine. What about the Rabbit? What do you want to do with him, turn him loose?”
    “No. Bring him along. I don’t know what the page is about, but we might be able to pick up where we left off. No sense burning the team by letting him go.”
    Knuckles acknowledged the call, then gave directions where to find him. He was only a couple of blocks away. I cranked up the car and pulled into traffic. I rounded the corner and spotted him a block away. He was standing two streets up holding a cardboard sign that said: “Homeless Veteran. Will work for someone who understands what’s important.” I pulled over, allowing him to climb in.
    “Funny sign. Unfunny stench. Maybe you should take the Metro.”
    “Ha ha.” Knuckles was silent for a minute, which told me he was pissed. I was unsure whether it was the exercise or the page, but he didn’t waste any time leaving me wondering.
    “What the fuck was that call back there about tagging the target? Dumbest damn thing I’ve ever heard. There was no reason to do that. It’s not like we were in a Jack Bauer scenario.”
    “I know, but these exercises never have a guy carrying a nuke. We never get pressure to get it done at all costs.