"What? What the hell's going on? Over." Gardner's voice demanded an answer and carried an edge that made Jack leery as all get-out of giving him the obvious one.
Someone was about to get stoned. A woman, because only men in this region were sometimes granted the faster execution of beheading.
And there wasn't a thing they could do to stop it. With chilling horror, it would unroll before his eyes, his mind already three steps ahead because of all the briefings he'd received on the region in the past.
There wouldn't be a mob-frenzy-style stoning like movie dramas perpetuated. Reality was far worse. Far more calculated. Coldly barbaric. A token stone was thrown, usually by an old man, and then a dump truck unloaded rocks and cement onto the condemned up to her neck until she was crushed to death.
Who would be placed in that pit?
Sweat iced on his brow. He'd tried to prepare himself for the possibility Sydney might die. But, God, he couldn't stomach it being this way. Not Sydney. And damn it all, not this hell for Monica to have to think about for the rest of her life.
He and the Colonel exchanged glances over the console, then back down again to their screens. The image continued of two men hauling the woman toward the pit, bound her hands and feet, then dropped her in.
The crowd roared. No way would Gardner and his partner miss that, too far to see or help, but damn well close enough to hear even without the parabolic dish.
The dump truck rolled to a stop, jerked, shifted into reverse and repositioned until it idled, butt facing the pit. Gardner's insistent questions gained speed while an airman stalled with excuses of interrupted satellite feed.
Jack couldn't escape the cold sense of kinship with Gardner, since he knew too well the nightmare of being helpless while the woman he loved died. Even if this wasn't Sydney, there would still be an endless wait until the Predator could pick up fresh footage of her or the SEALs risked slipping in to check.
As much as he tried to tell himself that Tina had been fragile and Monica was the strongest woman he'd ever met, the current situation unfolding in front of his eyes reminded him everyone was vulnerable sometime.
And women were most especially vulnerable here.
"Damn it, Control," Gardner's words grated through, "do you read me? Update needed. Now! Over."
Jack clicked computer keys, typing a chat room message over to the Colonel that wouldn't be overheard by Gardner. Your call as the senior officer in charge, sir. But Gardner's gonna go ballistic.
Something they all knew would happen, anyway.
Meanwhile their only hope of containing him came through reason, the truth, and the hope that his partner Carlos could restrain him.
Colonel Cullen nodded, slowly replaced his mug beside him, steady, rock-solid in spite of the tight cut of his clenched jaw, and keyed up his mike. "People, this is Alpha. Everyone settle. It appears they're about to hold a public execution."
Chapter 10
Execution?
The response popped through Blake's earpiece. Landed in his stomach like a cold stone as he lay flat on his belly in a shallow desert trench.
Stone.
Damn poor word choice. Shut down emotions. Quitting was not an option.
"Man or woman?" Blake grunted into the small boom mike at the corner of his mouth even though he already knew the answer because of that dump truck full of rocks.
"Female," Colonel Cullen answered.
The confirmation burned hotter than the setting sun.
Gaze jerky, Blake scanned the desert to the chain-link fence with concertina wire barbs spiraling the top. About two football fields away, he could discern the crowd. Barely, but he was mostly at the mercy of visuals supplied by command post with his team buddy sweating beside him in his desert tan ghiilie suit until his streaked face paint slicked.
"Is it one of ours?" Blake forced the question out, refusing to let his mind create the image of Sydney dropped into a stoning pit in the center of some godforsaken backwoods town square.
The moment's hesitation from the stalwart colonel scared the shit out of him.
Finally the headset crackled. "We can't tell. She's completely covered."
He swallowed down grit-laden dread and the memory of Sydney's pretty smile the day they'd met. It wasn't her. He wouldn't let it be.