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Back Angels of Vengeance Save as PDF
Chapters (68)
  1. Blurb
  2. CONTENTS
  3. Dedication
  4. CHARACTER LIST
  5. 1
  6. 2
  7. 3
  8. 4
  9. 5
  10. 6
  11. 7
  12. 8
  13. 9
  14. 10
  15. 11
  16. 12
  17. 13
  18. 14
  19. 15
  20. 16
  21. 17
  22. 18
  23. 19
  24. 20
  25. 21
  26. 22
  27. 23
  28. 24
  29. 25
  30. 26
  31. 27
  32. 28
  33. 29
  34. 30
  35. 31
  36. 32
  37. 33
  38. 34
  39. 35
  40. 36
  41. 37
  42. 38
  43. 39
  44. 40
  45. 41
  46. 42
  47. 43
  48. 44
  49. 45
  50. 46
  51. 47
  52. 48
  53. 49
  54. 50
  55. 51
  56. 52
  57. 53
  58. 54
  59. TWO MONTHS LATER
  60. ONE YEAR LATER
  61. TWO YEARS LATER
  62. FOUR YEARS LATER
  63. ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
  64. ABOUT THE AUTHOR
  65. Also by John Birmingham
  66. ALSO BY JOHN BIRMINGHAM
  67. Copyright
  68. Cover

General Tusk Musso (retd): the US President’s special representative in Texas

Master Sergeant Fryderyk Milosz: squad leader, US Army Rangers

Tyrone McCutcheon: aide to Governor Blackstone

Corporal Amy Summers: junior NCO, US Army Rangers

General Jackson Blackstone (retd): Governor of Texas

Bilal Baumer (aka al Banna; the Emir): fugitive terrorist leader

ANGUS AND WILTSHIRE

Bret Melton: gentleman farmer and full-time parent

Francis Dalby: Echelon UK field supervisor

1

FORMER URUGUAYAN–ARGENTINIAN BORDER REGION, SOUTH AMERICAN FEDERATION

Staff Sergeant Michelle Royse, of the United States Army’s much diminished 160th Special Operations Aviation Battalion, scanned the northern banks of the river delta as the Black Hawk pounded up the narrowing channel over dark, choppy waters. Through her night-vision goggles, the slightly fuzzy green imagery of heavily wooded banks was blurred even further by the shuddering of the helicopter as it roared along above the wave tops. A solid nor’easter was blowing directly up the mouth of the river, adding an extra thirty knots to their airspeed, but demanding extreme levels of concentration from Captain Tim Lindell and his co-pilot as they guided the chopper through hostile, if poorly guarded airspace. Far behind them, no one paid their improvised helicopter carrier much mind – a battered and rusty container vessel salvaged from Mexico. Royse didn’t like to ponder on what would have happened if the vessel had been detected by the South American Federation Navy.

Hey, probably not much to worry about, she consoled herself. It’s just a paper navy, at best, with most of their top ships laid up in docks rusting away.

A bit like the US Navy nowadays, she thought, with grim humour.

Lindell had not spoken for five minutes, which still made him a hell of a lot chattier than their passenger. The spook. Michelle knew the woman had to be a spook, because in spite of the faded, summer-weight BDUs she wore, the kit they had loaded for her was all high-spec, exotic stuff. The sort of gear the military simply couldn’t afford nowadays. No way the army or SOCOM was running this operation. They were just providing a bus service for some ghost recon superwoman who’d drifted down from far above the upper reaches of the tier-one food chain.