Seismic Surge. Don Pendleton

James. “I’m in control. We rescue the hostages, and stop the detonation that will cause the La Palma landslide.”

      The Briton grit his teeth, eyes alight. “But that doesn’t mean I won’t enjoy giving it to whoever we manage to catch hold of.”

      Manning winced, but let that flash of the old David McCarter pass. Even at his worst, the feisty ex-SAS man was hardly cruel, and was only ruthless to the point of ending a battle before it could harm bystanders. He might shoot a man in the back of the head, but only to keep a stray shot, or an intentional salvo of bullets from slaughtering innocents. When it came to handling murderers and other assorted thugs, if there was a personal bent toward McCarter’s duty, he was willing to go beyond the doctrine of using the minimum force necessary to end a conflict.

      “All right, does everyone have their assignments?” Manning asked.

      Officially, McCarter was the team leader. But Manning had a better bedside manner with teammates, and was generally the British warrior’s scientific adviser and the cooler head off which he could bounce ideas. Every member of Phoenix Force was a close friend to his teammates, but Manning and McCarter were especially close friends thanks to their cultural similarities—Canada and Britain sharing an allegiance and a loyalty to the Royal family, as well as both being original members of Phoenix Force. While Encizo, the other original veteran of the team, joked that the two bickered like an old married couple, it was their similarities and the sharp contrast of temperaments that made the two of them an effective team.

      McCarter didn’t look particularly happy, but he nodded at Manning, thanking him for focusing on the present.

      “We’ve got ’em,” Hawkins said.

      “T.J., I’ll need you to delay in hooking up with Cal and me,” McCarter said. “Head to Tarajal and scope out the scene there. You can coordinate and reunite later.”

      “Why not me?” Encizo asked.

      “I want this done from land. Someone who could fit in,” McCarter said. “You’re a little too memorable. T.J., on the other hand, can be completely nondescript and act the role of someone new stumbling into town.”

      Hawkins shrugged. “I’ll take care of things. Take my weapons bag with you. If it goes sideways, I don’t want to be tempted to risk overkill.”

      “Pistols and knife, just in case,” McCarter admonished. “We’ll keep a hold of the bigger stuff. If you need something with more oomph...”

      “Y’all are doing it wrong,” Hawkins concluded with his wry Texas grin.

      McCarter nodded in assent. “We hold off on the shooting, at least until we get the lay of the land. That doesn’t mean we can’t kill any of these Option Omega bastards, but we do it quiet. Broken necks can be made to look more like accidents than bullet holes.”

      Hawkins nodded.

      “One last word of advice, though.” McCarter paused. “We’re planning to keep a low profile. But you know what military planning is...”

      “It’s what you have in mind until you actually run into the enemy,” Hawkins answered.

      “Stay sharp, lads. This is going to get bloody.”