Page 1 of Fury
PROLOGUE
UNDISCLOSED LOCATION, AFGHANISTAN
Drool randown the back of his hand.
“Knock it off, you goon,” Davis Ledger muttered to his military working dog. He swiped at the liquid. Shifted his prone position on the rocky ground so he wasn’t in the slobber LZ. “Down,” he commanded the sable German shepherd.
Panting, Fury conceded, lowering his muscular frame. Like the wretch he was, he licked Davis’s cheek, hot breath puffing against Davis’s skin.
When the wet snout hit his ear, Davis jerked his head away. It reminded him of the wet willies his childhood best friend used to give him. He’d hated it then. Hated it now.
Fury yawned, clearly happy with himself, as suppressed chuckles from the rest of the nearby team filtered over. Davis shot a glare at his partner through the dusk slowly seeping into darkness. Resumed his patient watch of the mud-brown area below.
The compound was tucked between the craggy hills that were surrounded by parched, cracked dirt. Dust, dust, and more dust. That’s all this part of the region was. A cluster of guards relaxed by the faded blue gate, smoking, AKs slung over their shoulders. Davis could have sworn the same company made the security gates for every Third World country he’d been to. They all looked the same. But it also meant they were familiar and easy to breach when you’d done it a few dozen times.
“Trouble in paradise, honey?” His friend Luke Ross razzed him. They’d been buddies ever since clawing their way through Basic. The guy was solid as they came but never missed a chance to joke around. Even from a few feet away, Luke’s bright white smile was visible. It’d earned him the name Pearly.
“That’s all he’s got,” his team leader, Shaw, chimed in.
“Yeah, but what a way to go.” Luke again. The inflection in his tone drew another round of quiet chuckles. “When’s the last time you took a girl out? Second grade?”
Davis shook his head. Not everyone found the love of their life on the first day of school like Luke and his wife, Jana. Davis admired their relationship. It resembled only one other that he’d seen. They were more devoted to each other than any of the relationship examples his mom had shown him growing up. Gave him hope that someday he might find the same thing.
Thought he’d found it once. He’d been wrong.
Least, that’s what he told himself.
Wind started picking up, and Davis heard Luke’s MWD, Reza, shift in her down position. She and Fury were two of the best electronic detection dogs in the military. They could find a mini USB in a sandstorm. Which was why they were both on the mission to acquire a USB drive with missile codes that intel claimed some fool had decided to sell to a warlord with ties to Al-Qaeda. Namely, the warlord camped out in the compound below.
Fury held up a giant paw. Swung it in the air in Reza’s direction. She ignored him completely.
“Hey,” Davis whispered loudly to his partner. “Pull yourself together. No flirting on missions.”
Luke smirked at Reza. “Tell him he can flirt all he wants.” He ran a hand down the Malinois’s neck. “It’ll just prove how much more dedicated you are to the job when you find the USB first because lover boy can’t see straight.”
“Yeah, we’ll see who finds it.”
“Loser buys?” Luke held out a fist.
“You’re on.” Davis leaned over and tapped his gloved hand to his friend’s.
“VT6. Seller approaching the compound,” came the gravelly voice of their team sniper, Rafkin, who was perched uphill, farther behind the team. Ten yards to their left, Zaid and Niles were set up and waiting for the signal to move in.
Fatigue poking his neck from the prone position he’d been in, Davis narrowed his eyes at the faint dust trail marking the progress of a small approaching convoy. The quasi-uniformed guards at the gate straightened their caps and unlatched the main gate. Swung it wide as three meticulous HiLuxes pulled into the courtyard.
“Buyer’s coming out to meet him.” Rafkin’s calm voice could’ve been announcing sports scores. “Identity confirmed. It’s Hardy.”
After shifting his scope to the middle truck in the convoy, Davis watched a man in a suit step out of the vehicle, leather briefcase in hand.
“Confirmed seller onsite. Laurel.” Rafkin again.
“Cleared to engage,” came the order from VT6.
Shaw’s voice nearly stepped on Command’s transmission. “Lock and load.”
With a flick of his right thumb, Davis rotated the selector switch on his M4 from SAFE to SEMI.
Just outside the front door of the main compound building, Laurel and Hardy—the code names for the warlord and seller—greeted each other. The lead truck in the convoy crept ahead a few feet before stopping again.