Because most of his gear had been confiscated by the deputy ambassador and his boys, Chris felt impotent without it. He tried not to dwell on the seeming hopelessness of the situation. Instead, his brain simmered for solutions.
He ejected the magazine from his AK and pressed down with his thumb on the top bullet of the magazine. He knew from the magazine’s size and shape that it could hold thirty rounds. His thumb sank deep in the magazine before he felt strong resistance. “I’m not injured, but I’ve only got half a magazine,” he whispered.
“Same,” Sonny said.
“I’m fine,” Hannah reported, “less than a full magazine.”
“Reverend and Infidel,” Sonny said with a smile, guessing their identities. “Reverend’s shooting and his uncanny ability to find a way to win and Infidel’s rep as a top spook are legendary. Unit guys still talk about you two. In a good way.”
Chris tested Sonny to see if he was who he said he was. “Two-Face must trust you a lot to give you the keys to the embassy.” Two-Face was in the Unit’s Bravo Squadron, so Chris purposefully gave the wrong squadron to see if Sonny would correct him. “Were you with him in Charlie Squadron?”
“I served in Alpha Squadron, but Two-Face was in Bravo,” Sonny said. “They call me Mr. Sunshine.” He smiled in the moonlight. “Because of my cheerful disposition.”
“Now that’s a name I recognize,” Chris said. “Not from your cheerful disposition but from how you terrorize terrorists.”
“Two-Face and I were both Rangers,” Sonny said. “Finished Selection together and entered the Unit at the same time.”
“Okay, boys. Enough chitchat. We need a phone,” Hannah said. “There’s an Agency station less than a klick from here. If I can call them, maybe they can help.”
“The deputy ambassador confiscated my lock-picking tools,” Chris said, “but if you think it’s worth the risk of setting off an alarm, I can break a window to get us inside the concert hall to use a phone.”
“Hopefully the fracas across the street will be enough to keep the neighborhood distracted,” Sonny said, “but a silent alarm will make for a long evening.”
“It’s worth the risk to me,” Hannah said.
Chris took them out of the trees and to the concert hall building, where he thrust the muzzle of his rifle into the nearest window, breaking it. No alarm sounded, but it was still possible the building had a silent alarm. He poked out the larger shards of glass before running his muzzle along the inside edges of the frame, clearing much of the remaining pieces. Finally, he maneuvered through the opening, trying not to touch the inside edges of the frame. Hannah and Sonny brought up the rear.
No guards had arrived. Yet.
Chris traversed the hall quickly until he found an office area. He motioned to one of the phones. “Knock yourself out.”
Hannah laid her AK across the desk, sat down, and made a call while Chris and Sonny stood guard.
Within minutes, Hannah turned to Chris, covered the mouthpiece on the phone, and said, “I’m getting the chief on the line now.” She waited for a moment before she spoke into the receiver: “Yes, sir. Our embassy in Ankara has been overrun by Syrian terrorists.” Then she paused. “I don’t know if the ambassador was in the compound or not,” she said. “I don’t know if the deputy ambassador actually made it out alive or not. I don’t know if anyone made it out alive other than us.” After another pause she said, “Yes, I’m still with Chris, and we have another person with us who works for the government, but what does that have to do with the embassy being overrun? There is sensitive equipment in an SUV parked inside the embassy that the terrorists can use to launch cyber attacks against the US!”
A police siren sounded.
“What does my location have to do with the embassy?” Hannah asked.
The siren became louder.
“No, I will not be put on hold!” Hannah slammed down the phone.
The sound of the siren became stationary in the direction of the embassy. From the same direction, someone shouted in Turkish over a PA speaker — probably a Turkish cop. An AK rattled, and the shouting stopped. Then the siren ceased. Engines started and vehicles seemed to be rolling away.
“Maybe the tangos are moving out,” Chris said.
Sonny held out his ring of keys. “Good. Because I’m guessing we’re not getting any Agency help on this one.” He turned to Hannah, and she shook her head. “So if the ragheads bug out, the compound will be clear for us to access the TOC. One of these keys should let us inside.” The TOC building was the Tactical Operating Center for the embassy compound. “We might find your weapons, ammo, and GPS tracker there. Hopefully some goodies for me, too.”
“We’d better hurry,” Hannah said. “Police will be swarming the embassy any minute, and we can’t let the tangos get away with the Switchblade Whisper.”
Chris opened the nearest window and climbed out. It was standard operating procedure not to travel the same path twice. No point in giving the enemy a chance to lay a booby trap or ambush, waiting for a SEAL’s return. “It’ll take time if we travel south around the German embassy,” Chris said. “After the attack on the US Embassy, all the embassies in the area are probably on alert, and the Germans won’t be pleased to see us armed with AKs near their compound.”
“But if we enter from the north, we risk bumping into the main force of the tangos or arriving police,” Hannah said.
“We’ll just have to take the same route back,” Sonny said.
Chris and Hannah nodded in agreement. So much for SOP.
After crossing the boulevard, Chris climbed over the same spiked fence. I hope we’re not walking into an ambush. When his feet touched the ground inside the embassy and no booby traps went boom, he thanked God. He probably should’ve felt the danger of their situation more, but his body was weary, and his nerves were numb. He covered the area with his AK while Hannah and Sonny climbed over. Maybe his opponents were waiting for them to join him in their kill zone before they launched their ambush. Hannah and Sonny arrived, but there was no ambush.
19
All over the fence now, Chris led them across the compound in search of the TOC. Car tires burned like misshapen donuts from Hell, long, flaming tongues tasting the paint of the vehicles as smoky flames gutted the interiors, casting impish shadows in the parking lot. Beyond the broken windows of the main building, the flaming interior raged from hot white in the center to burning yellow, fiery orange, and caldron red before fading into the black abyss of night. Except for the fires, the compound was eerily quiet. Chris led them across the compound in search of the TOC.
He stopped in front of the steel door of a small building that was separated from the others and hadn’t been burned — most likely the TOC. Sonny tried his master key, but it didn’t work. He kicked the door under the doorknob and reinforced lock. The door opened a crack. Sonny stepped to the side, and Chris took a kick at it. With a loud thud, the door budged open more, but it was still locked. “My turn,” Hannah said. When her kick struck the steel, it sounded like thunder. The door flew open, taking it off one of the hinges. It dangled on the remaining hinge like scrap metal. Chris had known she had it in her; even so, it was heart-juddering to behold. He held back a chuckle as Sonny stood slack-jawed, staring at her. Hannah walked through the door as if she’d done nothing special.