GhostWalkers 10 - Samurai Game

GhostWalker coming down the hallway. “Ryland needs you in the war room now,” Tucker said.
    Sam stepped back from Azami, allowing his fingers to brush across her shoulder as he turned away from her.
I love you, woman.
The words felt right to say, although not nearly enough to describe the emotion he felt.
We need to get a license immediately, because I’d like to marry you as soon as I get back.
    He heard her laughter in his mind, filling him with warmth as he walked away from her. That was what he found the most amazing—how she made him feel so complete. He wasn’t looking at her, but she was there with him, sharing an intimate moment no one else even saw.
    Do you think if we don’t marry immediately I’m going to run?
    If you had any sense, you would, and unfortunately for me, I’m fairly certain you’ll come to your senses sooner or later and run like a rabbit.
    You wish, but you’re stuck with me now.
    He’d like to lock her up somewhere, just to be certain she’d stay where he would know what she was up to. Azami would always go her own way, make her own decisions; he understood that and admired her for it. He would never respect a woman who didn’t know what she wanted and went for it. That didn’t mean he wasn’t going to worry about her.
    Ryland had maps spread out on the table and up on the screens on the walls. He glanced up as Sam came in. “The general okay with you going?”
    “I didn’t give him much choice. What have we got?” Sam said.
    “We’ll deploy in two teams,” Ryland replied. “Team One will be tasked as ‘pathfinder’ team. Nico, Kadan, Sam, and Jonas, that’s you.”
    The four men nodded.
    “You’ll make a HALO insertion from a CIA Gulfstream C-11. The crew as usual will be squawking a Yemen business jet transponder code to cover us.”
    A HALO was a high altitude, low opening jump.
    “Normal businessmen you are,” Gator said with a little snicker. He sobered up when Ryland shot him a glance.
    “They’ll drop you at twenty-five thousand AGL, so you’ll need your oxygen kit.”
    Sam nodded his head. The air to ground distance was a long one. They’d better have oxygen.
    “For all of you, no dog tags, no ID card, and use sterile British fatigues. TOT will be oh-three-hundred zulu.”
    The time over the target was called out in universal time.
    “Snipers will take Dragunov SVD sniper rigs, and SR-2 submachine guns. Sam, you and Jonas take an AKM assault rifle.” He looked around the room. “Each of you will have a Pya Yariggi nine-millimeter pistol. If you’re not familiar with any of these, get that way and fast. Believe me, gentlemen, you’ll need them.”
    “No problem,” Kadan answered for the others.
    “You will get eyes on the objective location to confirm intel reports if at all possible. You’ll be responsible for the recon of and establishing of a DZ for the second team.”
    The drop zone was all-important going in this time, as the area was entirely overrun with rebels and most of the roads were blown to hell.
    “You will be setting up a primary and secondary RP to link up with us after we insert. You will also need to set up a primary and secondary PZ, for the extractions of both teams.”
    It was always necessary to establish two rally points as well as two pickup zones in case anything went wrong. Sam was well aware they expected things to go wrong this time.
    “You will recon the rendezvous point, set up shop, and cover Sam and me when we go meet this joker. You have thirty-six hours to complete these objectives.” Ryland pinned all four men with his steely eyes. “Any questions?”
    “No, sir,” Kadan answered.
    Ryland tapped his finger on the table as if he itched to say more, but he shook his head and turned his attention back to his plan. “Team Two will stage at an air base in Turkey. We will insert via the same aircraft.”
    Gator nudged Tucker. “More businessmen. I’m wearin’ my suit. The ladies love that.”
    Ryland suppressed a grin. “Yeah, they will, Gator; we’ll let you drop first.”
    “Thanks, Captain, I’ll let Flame know she needs to pick up a little more life insurance.”
    Ryland shook his head and returned to the instructions. “We’ll insert by HAHO from twenty-seven thousand feet AGL,” he said, referring to air to ground level.
    HAHO was a high altitude, high opening jump. Never fun over a jungle in the dark in hostile territory. They would glide for thirty-five miles using compass and map to