Exit Strategy
STONY MANThe best military fighters and cyber techs in the world, the Stony Man teams are on the front lines of America’s war against terror. Operating under the President’s orders, these elite warriors put their lives on the line in the name of freedomNO ESCAPEAn investigation into government corruption turns deadly when two reporters are attacked by a Mexican black ops group. With one journalist killed and the second held captive in Mexico’s most dangerous prison, Phoenix Force will need to act fast before its rescue mission becomes a recovery operation. But while Phoenix Force is battling the country’s deadliest inmates in a high-tech fortress, Able Team learns the corruption has already infiltrated US law enforcement, threatening both sides of the border
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STONY MAN
The best military fighters and cyber techs in the world, the Stony Man teams are on the front lines of Americaâs war against terror. Operating under the Presidentâs orders, these elite warriors put their lives on the line in the name of freedom.
NO ESCAPE
An investigation into government corruption turns deadly when two reporters are attacked by a Mexican black ops group. With one journalist killed and the second held captive in Mexicoâs most dangerous prison, Phoenix Force will need to act fast before its rescue mission becomes a recovery operation. But while Phoenix Force is battling the countryâs deadliest inmates in a high-tech fortress, Able Team learns the corruption has already infiltrated US law enforcement, threatening both sides of the border.
âSTEP OUT OF THE VAN.â
Blancanales listened for signs of a possible hidden gunman. He had a prisoner, at least for the moment, but one mistake and his brains could be spilled on the street with the would-be killers heâd just dispatched.
The prisoner followed Polâs instructions.
âLie down on your stomach and lace your fingers behind your head,â Blancanales barked. The guy, obviously in a mood to survive this encounter, did as he was told. His breath came in rapid gulps, anxiety too real to be faked.
âAnyone else get away?â
âYeah,â the man answered. âHe ran...â
Toward the front of the van, the Able Team warrior concluded, as a shadow flickered in the windshield of the vehicle, disappearing around the corner. There were no abandoned weapons on the sidewalk, so there was a good chance the escaped ambusher was packing some serious firepower.
Blancanales dropped to a kneeling position at the sound of footfalls on the asphalt on the other side of the van. The gunman intended to flank him, but Blancanales was ready, front sight on the spot where a head would appear.
Exit Strategy
Don Pendleton
Contents
Few things were ever truly worthwhile on these witness protection jobs, but Domingo Perez did find this family to be actually worth a damn. Sadly, Justice never really had much for âinnocentsâ who were in the line of fire; their deals went to scumbags who had their hands painted red with blood up to their elbows. This case was different and Perez had known there was something of worth in this security detail when heâd gotten word that the operation involved blacksuits. Seeing Harold Brognola at the briefing for the mission had been the icing on the cake. The big Fed was known as someone who was well connected to even the highest-level covert ops.
The Castillos were a fine family. There was the father, formerly a crusading journalist in Mexico. Joaquin Castillo had stirred the hornetâs nest of government and law enforcement corruption plenty of times over the years, and Perez was fully aware that anyone the reporter had targeted was well and truly bent. His wife, Amanda, was herself in the journalism business; practically the other half of the investigative team that peeled back layers of grimy corruption by carving through the tumorous hide of the diseased beast that was south-of-the-border law enforcement.
Perez had worked with more than enough of them to realize that while the rank and file were good and honest, the higher in rank you rose, the more stink you had to roll around in, rutting in it like a pig in mud. Up high, you either had to be a saint with the reflexes of a cockroach or practically dance in the laps of the cartels.
Donald Burnett, the marshal in charge, had given Perez the three Castillo children to place in protection. The oldest was a fourteen-year-old boy, also named Domingo. Then there were his younger sisters, Pequita and Annette, born at two-year intervals after Domingo.
At fourteen, Domingo Castillo had already lived in two different countries and was as fluent in English as he was in Spanish to the point where heâd only have an accent if he wished to. His hair was a light brown, a âgiftâ from his grandfather by his mother, Amanda, strong currents of Spaniard blood coursing through that side of the family. His eyes were hazel and mercurial, flashing at times bright green or smoldering into a dark brown, which often reflected the young manâs moods.
Pequita, at twelve, was already growing into a young beauty. She had her fatherâs black hair and her motherâs cool blue eyes. Whenever Perez was in the room, Pequita seemed to never look away from him. He remembered when he was twelve and how girls his age had never showed the slightest interest in him, not when there were older boys or men around.
