Chapters (96)
- Cover
- Berkley titles by David Ricciardi
- Dedication
- Epigraph
- CHARACTER LIST
- PROLOGUE
- ONE
- TWO
- THREE
- FOUR
- FIVE
- SIX
- SEVEN
- EIGHT
- NINE
- TEN
- ELEVEN
- TWELVE
- THIRTEEN
- FOURTEEN
- FIFTEEN
- SIXTEEN
- SEVENTEEN
- EIGHTEEN
- NINETEEN
- TWENTY
- TWENTY-ONE
- TWENTY-TWO
- TWENTY-THREE
- TWENTY-FOUR
- TWENTY-FIVE
- TWENTY-SIX
- TWENTY-SEVEN
- TWENTY-EIGHT
- TWENTY-NINE
- THIRTY
- THIRTY-ONE
- THIRTY-TWO
- THIRTY-THREE
- THIRTY-FOUR
- THIRTY-FIVE
- THIRTY-SIX
- THIRTY-SEVEN
- THIRTY-EIGHT
- THIRTY-NINE
- FORTY
- FORTY-ONE
- FORTY-TWO
- FORTY-THREE
- FORTY-FOUR
- FORTY-FIVE
- FORTY-SIX
- FORTY-SEVEN
- FORTY-EIGHT
- FORTY-NINE
- FIFTY
- FIFTY-ONE
- FIFTY-TWO
- FIFTY-THREE
- FIFTY-FOUR
- FIFTY-FIVE
- FIFTY-SIX
- FIFTY-SEVEN
- FIFTY-EIGHT
- FIFTY-NINE
- SIXTY
- SIXTY-ONE
- SIXTY-TWO
- SIXTY-THREE
- SIXTY-FOUR
- SIXTY-FIVE
- SIXTY-SIX
- SIXTY-SEVEN
- SIXTY-EIGHT
- SIXTY-NINE
- SEVENTY
- SEVENTY-ONE
- SEVENTY-TWO
- SEVENTY-THREE
- SEVENTY-FOUR
- SEVENTY-FIVE
- SEVENTY-SIX
- SEVENTY-SEVEN
- SEVENTY-EIGHT
- SEVENTY-NINE
- EIGHTY
- EIGHTY-ONE
- EIGHTY-TWO
- EIGHTY-THREE
- EIGHTY-FOUR
- EIGHTY-FIVE
- EIGHTY-SIX
- EIGHTY-SEVEN
- Children of Fallen Patriots Foundation
- ABOUT THE AUTHOR
- What’s next onyour reading list?
“It’s cellular,” Jake added.
“Confirm cellular,” said Clap. “Can you get clear?”
One the warlord’s goons jammed the muzzle of a rifle under Jake’s chin and took his pistol.
“Yes,” Jake said stiffly.
“Banger coming your way on three,” said Clap. “One, two . . .”
Jake saw the flash-bang flying through the air and closed his eyes.
“Three!”
It was a perfect throw. The bright flash and concussive blast hit just as it flew past Yaxaas’s head.
Jake pushed the rifle to the left and stepped to the right. The gunman pulled the trigger and emptied his entire magazine into the sky as the two men wrestled for control of the weapon. Jake planted his right leg behind the man and threw him to the ground.
The flash-bang had temporarily blinded and stunned Yaxaas, but he still had the wherewithal to press the phone’s keypad.
Nothing happened.
One of the Ground Branch team had activated the same multifrequency jammer they’d used before to block the signal to the explosive belt.
The flash-bang and the gunfire had triggered chaos inside the market. People were screaming and rushing from what they assumed was another terrorist attack. Jake lost sight of the Ground Branch team as people ran in every direction.
Two of Yaxaas’s thugs rushed him and sent him tumbling backward into a stack of woven baskets. Jake scrambled to his feet and took off through the crowded market, shoving some people out of his way, jumping over others, and sprinting to one of the team’s prearranged rendezvous points.
“Heading for alternate exfil alpha,” he shouted into his radio.
But he turned a corner and found more gunmen blocking the exit. Jake didn’t know if they were Yaxaas’s thugs, but he had two men following him from behind and was about to be trapped in the middle. He ducked into an abandoned shop and pressed himself against a wall.
Outside, the men who’d been following him began shouting, and Jake heard someone in the crowd respond. The entire exchange had been in Somali, but Jake didn’t need to understand the language to know that he’d been given up.
Yaxaas’s soldiers entered the shop, AK-47s against their hips, fingers on the triggers. The first man was the one who’d taken Jake’s pistol. He relaxed when he saw that the American was still unarmed. The gunman slung his weapon and took out a length of coarse rope to tie Jake’s hands.
Jake doubled over and looked as if he might throw up.
The two men were nearly on him when he straightened up.