“Pretty damn good,” Shell declared. He hadn’t heard his nickname since Payne and Jones had left the squad. “But I’d like the right to change my opinion. I mean, if you guys are here, then something big is about to go down. Right?”
He looked at Jones, then Payne. He noticed anxiety in both sets of eyes, something that was atypical for them.
“Damn,” he groaned. “How big are we talking about?”
“Pretty big,” Payne admitted. He tried to smile to lessen the tension, but his effort was less than successful. “And quite personal.”
The comment piqued Shell’s interest. “Personal? As in, off-the-books personal? As in, the-government-doesn’t-know-we’re-here-but-who-gives-a-rat’s-ass-about-them-anyway personal?”
Payne nodded, looking forward to Shell’s response.
“Halle-fucking-lujah! Military missions are always so boring. It’s about time we got the old gang back together and had some fun!”
Jones nodded in agreement but wasn’t nearly as enthusiastic. “You’re right, it’s been way too long. But I don’t know if
fun
is the right word to describe this mission.”
“Oh, yeah?” Shell laughed, still not understanding the sensitive nature of the assignment. “Then what word would you use?”
Payne took a step forward, intensity returning to his face. It was a look that Shell had seen several times before. One that meant it was time for business. “The word I’d use is
desperate.
”
“Desperate?”
Payne nodded. “And once I tell you why I called you here, you’ll understand why.”
“You called us here?” Shell asked, dumbfounded. “How did you pull that off? Nobody’s supposed to know where we are, yet you somehow managed to track us down? Don’t get me wrong, it’s great to see ya, but that doesn’t make much sense to me.”
Captain Juan Sanchez, the MANIACs current leader, cleared his throat. “It doesn’t have to make sense to you, as long as it makes sense to me.”
Shell sprang to attention. “Yes, sir. Sorry, sir.”
Sanchez winked at Payne, his former team leader. “But since you’ll bitch the rest of the night if I don’t tell you, I’ll be a nice guy and let you in on the secret.”
“Thank you, sir. I’m all ears, sir.”
“As luck would have it, I stay in touch with Captain Payne on a regular basis, which is apparently more than you. He gave me a call and briefed me on his current situation. Soon after, I offered to give up our much-needed R amp; R in order to help. That is, of course, if it’s all right with you.”
“Once a MANIAC, always a MANIAC!” Shell shouted passionately.
“You’re damn right!” Sanchez growled. He quickly turned his attention from his second in command to the man he had served under for several years. “Captain Payne, at this time I would like to offer you control of the finest, fiercest fighting force ever to walk the face of this fucking planet. We are the MANIACs, and we will follow you and fight with you until death-their death-so help me, God!”
Payne nodded in appreciation.
It had taken a while, but he finally realized that everything would be all right.
THE
Qur’an, the spiritual text of Islam, required all Muslim adults to pray five times a day-at dawn (
fajr
), noon (
zuhr
), midafternoon (
asr
), sunset (
maghrib
), and night (
isha
)-to prove their unyielding faith and uncompromising devotion to Allah. Unfortunately, these sessions were not assigned to a specific hour, making prayer time a difficult thing to agree upon among modern-day Muslims. In order to rectify this problem, most Islamic communities utilized a muezzin to climb the minaret of the local mosque and announce the beginning of each prayer session. When his voice was heard, echoing loudly throughout the streets of the city, all Muslims were expected to stop what they were doing and drop to their knees in prayer.
These breaks were their holy time, moments of forgiveness and thanks. But in Payne’s mind, it was also their biggest weakness. It gave him five daily opportunities to catch the enemy with their guard down. Literally. And he planned to exploit it for all it was worth.
As nighttime crept over Nigeria, the MANIACs snuck along the outer perimeter of the eight-block Kotto Distribution Center, using the shadows as their cover while waiting for their signal to start the assault. Although Payne had showed them the advantages of this unconventional approach, the twelve soldiers didn’t like the lengthy exposure time that they would have in the field. They were used to invading, dominating, and leaving, but rarely waiting. But in this case, they agreed that the benefits of their master plan far outweighed the negatives. In fact, if all went well, they knew their battle with Kotto’s men would be over within seconds, making it the easiest mission they’d ever been on.
Unfortunately, it didn’t feel very easy while they waited.
Dressed in black and trying to blend in with the landscape, the soldiers were unable to relax. They were nervous and eager, excited and scared, but not relaxed. Too many things could go wrong for them to be relaxed, especially since the start signal was in the hands of a stranger they had never worked with before.
No, not Payne. All the MANIACs followed his advice like scripture.
In actuality, they were waiting for the muezzin, the Islamic crier. They would go on his call, during the Muslims’ moment of weakness-when the sun kissed the horizon and the guards least expected violence.
The voice rang out like a tormented wail, soaring from the largest mosque in the city to the smallest homes in the neighborhoods below. The muezzin’s impassioned plea, like a hypnotic command from Allah himself, sent people dropping to the ground, causing all Muslims to set aside their nightly activities in order to give thanks.
And the MANIACs took advantage of it.
“Gracias,”
said Payne, who was thankful for the opportunity to burst into the complex with a silenced Heckler amp; Koch MP5 K in his hands. He knew when he reached his assigned territory, a small section in the center where the hostages were supposedly kept, that all of Kotto’s guards would be on the floor, praying toward the distant land of Mecca. And once he found them, he would use them for target practice.
Payne was trailed by Jones, Shell, and Sanchez, and their path met no resistance along the way. No guards, no workers, no noise. The place was an industrial ghost town, and the lack of activity unnerved Payne. In confusion, he drew a large question mark in the air.