Swift Strike (SEAL Team 14 Book 2) by Loren Mathis

sign of Saverin Tarasov or any other Al-Jaazeez members. There also hadn’t been any other bombings since the small band of SEAL Team Fourteen members arrived on the scene. Maybe AnSawar had moved out of the area. Of course, it was also possible that they’d never been in the region to begin with and this whole mission was a false alarm.
    Regardless, Jesse and four other SEAL Team Fourteen members were tasked with monitoring a linen factory in the heart of the city. They were working with a couple of CIA field agents who’d first alerted top Washington brass regarding the irregularities at the site. According to the agents, several known organized crime couriers were spotted entering and exiting the building on multiple occasions throughout the past few months. Jesse had personally seen zero evidence of to support this, but he trusted the field agents’ assessments.
    Couriers were becoming an increasingly important tool in the toolkit for terrorist organizations around the globe. The concept of why a courier was basically mandatory in most criminal operations was exceedingly simple. The couriers were the middlemen who provided the necessary distance between the financier and the terrorist organization they were colluding with. Distance between the two parties was needed because usually the financiers were men of stature who could not afford to be linked to any untoward criminal activities.
    “Look alive, Denison. Potential target is moving in.” Jesse perked up from his position as a black SUV rolled up to the warehouse.
    “Copy that,” Jesse said into his headset. He watched as four men exited the vehicle. Three of the men were wearing traditional Islamic clothing. The fourth man wore a tailored business suit. None of the men looked familiar to him. Whoever they were, they definitely weren’t high up in the ranks of the Al-Jaazeez network. But like their CO intimated earlier, they could have some connection to the most recent threat presented by AnSawar.
    “Any positive identifications?” Jesse asked from his perch on top of a building located a thousand yards from the warehouse. He and the rest of his teammates had set up posts at different vantage points outside of the target location. Squinting against the sun, he peered into the scope of his bolt-action carbine Scout Rifle.
    “Hawk has the guy on the far left pegged as Hassad Abbas, a lower level operative who acts as a free agent for various crime organizations,” Malcolm’s voice filtered in through his headset again. Hawk was the code name for one of the CIA field agents that they were working with on this mission. Hawk had touched down in Somalia a year prior to SEAL Team Fourteen’s arrival. He’d spent the last few weeks gathering important intel into the recent terrorist attacks that were presently rocking the country.
    “Right. I have a bead on him.”
    The quartet stood talking outside of the building for several minutes before they entered. The sun had started to fade from the sky by the time the men walked back outside. This time, however, the men had a woman in tow. She was older, maybe fifty years old, and her hands were tied in the front. Her hair was in a state of disarray, tears streamed down her face, and the clothes that she wore were torn and dirty. Her face was swollen and bloody; she’d clearly been beaten.
    “Okay, what the hell is going on here?” Jesse asked, his eyes glued to his scope, his finger on the trigger.
    “No clue,” Luke replied.
    “I have a shot. But it’s a little dirty,” Jesse said, his voice even and hands steady. “Are we going in?” The group was walking slowly, probably in order not to draw too much attention to themselves from the passersby on the street. They were only a few hundred yards from their SUV. A few more seconds and the Team would have to pursue them on the road.
    “Not yet. Hold fire and hold your position,” Lieutenant Malcolm Clarke’s voice sounded in over the wire. As the most