Forced to Kill

Andrew Peterson

Chapters (55)

Contents

Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Chapter 42
Chapter 43
Chapter 44
Chapter 45
Chapter 46
Chapter 47
Chapter 48
Chapter 49
Chapter 50
Chapter 51

Title

FORCED TO KILL

By

Andrew Peterson

Copyright

Chapter 1

The loadmaster issued a nod.

USMC Staff Sergeant Erick Ramsland leapt into a moonless night.

Subzero air instantly whipped his jumpsuit. A slow tumble offered him a final look at the C-130J’s black form. Higher than Mount Everest, he stabilized into belly flight as he reached terminal velocity—nearly a football field per second.

He glanced at the backlit GPS device strapped to his wrist, but it didn’t register coordinates. His forward speed hadn’t bled off yet. Ten thousand feet lower, massive cumulus towers awaited his arrival. He’d be penetrating their ghostly forms within the next thirty seconds. They weren’t fully developed, but they’d still pack plenty of punch.

He took another look at the GPS. Good, coordinates were displayed. Using the compass on the opposite wrist, he made a slight course correction to the east, then a finer adjustment due south. On the western horizon, the faint glow from Porlamar foreshadowed the vast city of Caracas beyond.

This wasn’t his first HALO jump, but it could be the most dangerous. His orders were to secure tonight’s target alive and transport him to the extraction point. Using the target’s personal vehicle remained the best option, but he wouldn’t know how to play it until he assessed the situation. Ramsland considered himself a human smart bomb. Nothing more, nothing less. Questioning orders lead to doubt and this mission had no place for it.

Directly below, the wraithlike structure of the clouds looked menacing and cold. He adjusted his flight toward a valley between two immense columns, but knew he’d never make it. He took a deep breath and steeled himself. Here they come!

Ramsland cleaved into total blackness. Eddies bent and twisted his body. He stopped monitoring the GPS and concentrated on keeping his free fall stable. A wet chill penetrated his jumpsuit and the polypropylene thermal undergarment, forcing a shiver.

Things got worse when a violent wind shear jerked him onto his side and propelled him into a vertical spin. Without a horizon as a reference, he couldn’t correct the hideous sensation of cartwheeling out of control. At least there wasn’t hail in here. Being blasted by hailstones—even small ones—at 300 feet per second would definitely ruin his evening. He summoned an image of his wife to calm his mind. He took slow, deep breaths and told himself to relax. Stable air would return any second.

As quickly as it arrived, the turbulence ended and the lights of Tobago snapped on.