DETACHMENT DELTA OP ACES WILD

by SASSER CHARLES W

• ISBN13: 9780060592202
• ISBN10: 0060592206
• Format: Paperback
• Copyright: 2014-12-01
• Publisher: HarperCollins Publications

Summary

The struggle against the terrorist jihad is a battle to the death. But the battlefield is shifting from the Middle East to America's doorstep. A nuclear device has been smuggled across the Mexican border, as a fiendish cabal of wealthy and dangerous adversaries plots to unleash a nightmare on American soil that will topple the U.S. government in an election year. The clock is ticking. But Delta Force is ready, fighting on different fronts at separate ends of the world. Yet vigilance and courage may not be enough to prevent the ultimate disaster. Such a calamity can only be prevented by a tight-knit family of warriors forced to confront personal tragedy and a shocking, unanticipated foe -- a group of Washington opportunists whose attempts to put politics above honor may cost millions of Americans their lives.

Author Biography

Charles W. Sasser is a retired veteran who spent twenty-nine years in the U.S. Army, thirteen of them as a Green Beret. The prolific author of more than thirty books, his previous works have been Main Selections of the Military Book Club, recommended reading at West Point, Army War College, and required reading in the Navy. Visit the author's website at www.charlessasser.com.

Excerpts

Detachment Delta: Operation Aces Wild

Chapter One

Fort Bragg, North Carolina

Major Brandon Kragle, tall and broad-shouldered, a strikingexample of health and Army Special Forces conditioning,stood spread-legged in the center of whatappeared to be an ordinary living room -- a new sofa, televisionset, lamps, end tables, coffee table, clean carpet,framed photos on the wall. Appearances weren't alwaysreality. The living room was actually one of four suchrooms at the Shooting House, also called the House ofHorrors, on the U.S. Army Delta Force compound at FortBragg, North Carolina.

Five sergeants preparing to enter the CQB (close quarterbattle) phase of Delta Force training were positionedabout the dimly lighted room among life-sized paper humantargets and real-looking mannequins in natural "terrorist"poses. One mannequin crouched behind a student,its hand on the soldier's neck, the other hand pointing apistol at the door. A second "tango," as terrorists werecalled, stood on his other side brandishing a stubby Uzisubmachine gun.

"We're not peacekeepers or nation builders," MajorKragle barked. "We're the only unit in the military that remainson a constant war footing. We don't take prisonersin this business. It's serious business, and you have to killand be damned good at it."

The major's tough, determined demeanor, indeed everything about him, suggested a thorough professional.Thick mustache, cropped dark hair, and weathered skingave him a craggy outdoors look. In a previous incarnationhe might have been an Indian fighter or mountainman. Striking gray eyes swept a hard gaze over the fivesergeant trainees. If they passed this final shooting phase,they became full probationary members of the U.S.Army's 1st Special Forces Operational Detachment-Delta.Delta Force: the nation's crack counterterrorist unit.

The door crashed open and three other fit-lookingarmed troopers in jeans and T-shirts or sports shirts burstinto the room. One of the students flinched. Major Kragleintroduced the three as members of Troop One, of whichhe was commanding officer.

Staff Sergeant "Ice Man" Thompson, Troop One'sweapons expert, was an average-looking man in his thirtieswith prominent scars on his left cheek, souvenirs obtainedon clandestine missions into Afghanistan and the Philippines.In addition to being a master of both foreign and domesticweapons, he was a gourmet cook and former worldtitle middleweight kickboxing champion. He was the kindof guy no one laughed at if he were caught in the kitchenwearing an apron. He carried an Uzi submachine gun.

Sergeant "Mad Dog" Carson was a communicationsguru. Outward appearances marked him as a real knuckledragger, not exceptionally tall but with shoulders so broadhe almost had to turn sideways to get through a door, armsas thick and as long as fence posts, upon whose ends wereattached hands the size of a gorilla's. Long, dark haircurled up around his neck from out of a slogan T-shirt thatread Kill 'Em All, Let God Sort 'Em Out. Dark eyesfilled with surprising intelligence and cunning glared atthe new meat.

"Fu-uck," he said, forming two syllables out of theword and thus amplifying its obscenity. "They look like abunch of pussies to me."

None of the five dared contradict him. He wore a holstered9mm pistol.

Sergeant First Class "Gloomy" Davis's most strikingfeature was his pale blue eyes, as cold and sharp as glacierice. He was a wiry little man with great drooping blondmustaches and a web of laugh lines at the outer corners ofhis eyes that softened his appearance, if only a little. Underneathhis black T-shirt inscribed with Love a HookerHogette he wore a single bullet on a chain. The "hog'stooth" identified him as a trained sniper. He carried astubby MP-40 submachine gun.

One of the students tried to be funny and ease the tension."Doesn't anyone in Delta have real first names?" heasked.

Major Kragle shot him a look that would have witheredpoison ivy, then ignored him.

"We're not cops," he continued. "We don't capture tangosand send them to prison so their asshole buddies cantake more hostages to negotiate for their release. But ifthey want to be martyrs and go see Allah and his virgins,we're here to send them on their way. We drop them wherethey stand."

He paused to let his words sink in.

"In this scenario," he said, "you five men are hostagesheld by terrorists in this room. You are women and oldmen and five-year-old kids. In a few minutes you are goingto be rescued and these tangos are going to be dead."

The sound of increased breathing filled the room. MajorKragle rewarded the trainees with an icy grin.

"Don't worry," he added, "we haven't shot a student all week. It would ruin my whole day if I had to explain toColonel Buck, my boss, how we busted in and shot up abunch of people we're supposed to be rescuing."

A cautious hand went up. "Sir? Are you using liveammunition?"

"You betch-um, Red Ryder."

He placed a handheld radio on the coffee table.

"Listen carefully when the radio comes on," he directed."Watch closely."

He and the three enlisted men abruptly left, closing thedoor behind them. The trainees remained still and eerilyintent, not knowing what to expect.

After a moment, the radio crackled to sudden life."Stand by . . . Five . . . four . . . three . . . two . . . Execute!Execute! Execute!"

An immediate blast blew the door open and filled theroom with smoke. The four-man assault team, which hadstood so calmly in this room only minutes before, explodedinto action, hurling themselves through the dooron the run, intent and deadly.

Detachment Delta: Operation Aces Wild. Copyright © by Charles Sasser. Reprinted by permission of HarperCollins Publishers, Inc. All rights reserved. Available now wherever books are sold.

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Excerpted from Detachment Delta: Operation Aces Wild by Charles W. Sasser
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