pointed up.
“I think we have one suspect down,” Robin said into his mic. “I want the right flank of the wedge to cover the Blazer. Emmett, take the left flank forward and secure that pickup.”
“Ten-Four, Sarge.”
Robin watched as Emmett Franks rose off his knee and waved the left side of the wedge forward. Emmett raised his MP5 to his shoulder and moved in a crouching walk towards the pickup. Doug Ariel followed at Emmett's left, but slightly behind him. Mike Collins and John Lucheck, a customs agent, made up the rest of the left side. Mike nudged John forward. They stopped the front of the pickup, while Emmett and Doug went to the rear.
The Blackhawk moved so most of the light shone on the Blazer, although the pickup remained partially illuminated. Jack positioned the jump so the left side of the pickup faced perpendicular to the team. The truck appeared to be a Ford with a camper shell on the back. As Emmett and the others moved toward the truck, they appeared to be strange shadow creatures gliding across an eerie, hostile landscape of glowing, swirling dust with the screaming jet engines and rotors of the Blackhawk giving the effect of howling alien monsters.
When the men reached the truck, both pairs crouched down by their respective wheel wells. “We'll go first, Mike, to avoid cross fire,” Emmett said over the radio.
“Ten-Four.”
Emmett crouched at the middle of the tailgate while Doug positioned himself under the window of the camper, to form an “L”-shaped kill zone. Doug switched to his Colt .45 with his flashlight in his left hand while Emmett used the light attached to his MP5. Suddenly, both men jumped up, shining their lights into the camper. Then they instantly dropped down, their lights going out. Robin saw the two men confer briefly at the left rear corner of the truck and then take a cautious, but longer look.
“Camper's clear. Your turn, Mike.”
“Ten-Four.”
Mike slung his Galil on his back and drew his Smith & Wesson .357 revolver and his flashlight. John kept his Steyr-Aug ready. Mike crouched at the rear of the driver's window, while John stood at the front door post. They both made their move, Mike shining his light into the cab.
“Front is clear,” Mike said over the radio.
“Ten-Four,” Emmett replied. “Let's secure a perimeter.”
Both pairs disappeared to the other side of the truck. Thirty seconds later Emmett told Robin the truck was secure and loaded with dope.
“Right flank, follow me to secure the Blazer,” Robin ordered. “Rick, I'm going to cover the suspect. You and Matt take the front. Burke, you and Mark take the rear.” Robin looked at the men as he said this. They gave him a thumbs up to show they understood. Robin turned and started for the Blazer. He put his Galil to his shoulder and moved forward in a crouching walk, also known as the “Groucho Walk.” When he got to the front of the Blazer, he knelt down next to the wheel well and waited for Rick Santos and Matt Howe, the other customs agent, who got there a second later. He noticed bullet holes in the Blazer and a flat left front tire. Robin moved around the front of the Blazer and positioned himself by the right front headlight, with the right front wheel between himself and the suspect. He aimed his rifle at the suspect's chest. In the glow of the searchlight, he saw no movement.
A half minute later, Rick came around and told Robin they had cleared the Blazer. Robin told Burke and Mark Warren, the other member of Robin's team, to scan the area on the other side of the Blazer. He and Rick did the same. It looked clear.
“Okay, guys,” Robin said, “It seems one of us got lucky and hit the suspect, because he looks deader than a door nail. But we'll go through the drill. I'll do it. Cover me.”
“Roger-dodger, Sarge,” Burke responded.
Robin moved out parallel to the suspect, until he passed the man's head. He dropped to one knee and scanned the area for any movement around
“I think we have one suspect down,” Robin said into his mic. “I want the right flank of the wedge to cover the Blazer. Emmett, take the left flank forward and secure that pickup.”
“Ten-Four, Sarge.”
Robin watched as Emmett Franks rose off his knee and waved the left side of the wedge forward. Emmett raised his MP5 to his shoulder and moved in a crouching walk towards the pickup. Doug Ariel followed at Emmett's left, but slightly behind him. Mike Collins and John Lucheck, a customs agent, made up the rest of the left side. Mike nudged John forward. They stopped the front of the pickup, while Emmett and Doug went to the rear.
The Blackhawk moved so most of the light shone on the Blazer, although the pickup remained partially illuminated. Jack positioned the jump so the left side of the pickup faced perpendicular to the team. The truck appeared to be a Ford with a camper shell on the back. As Emmett and the others moved toward the truck, they appeared to be strange shadow creatures gliding across an eerie, hostile landscape of glowing, swirling dust with the screaming jet engines and rotors of the Blackhawk giving the effect of howling alien monsters.
When the men reached the truck, both pairs crouched down by their respective wheel wells. “We'll go first, Mike, to avoid cross fire,” Emmett said over the radio.
“Ten-Four.”
Emmett crouched at the middle of the tailgate while Doug positioned himself under the window of the camper, to form an “L”-shaped kill zone. Doug switched to his Colt .45 with his flashlight in his left hand while Emmett used the light attached to his MP5. Suddenly, both men jumped up, shining their lights into the camper. Then they instantly dropped down, their lights going out. Robin saw the two men confer briefly at the left rear corner of the truck and then take a cautious, but longer look.
“Camper's clear. Your turn, Mike.”
“Ten-Four.”
Mike slung his Galil on his back and drew his Smith & Wesson .357 revolver and his flashlight. John kept his Steyr-Aug ready. Mike crouched at the rear of the driver's window, while John stood at the front door post. They both made their move, Mike shining his light into the cab.
“Front is clear,” Mike said over the radio.
“Ten-Four,” Emmett replied. “Let's secure a perimeter.”
Both pairs disappeared to the other side of the truck. Thirty seconds later Emmett told Robin the truck was secure and loaded with dope.
“Right flank, follow me to secure the Blazer,” Robin ordered. “Rick, I'm going to cover the suspect. You and Matt take the front. Burke, you and Mark take the rear.” Robin looked at the men as he said this. They gave him a thumbs up to show they understood. Robin turned and started for the Blazer. He put his Galil to his shoulder and moved forward in a crouching walk, also known as the “Groucho Walk.” When he got to the front of the Blazer, he knelt down next to the wheel well and waited for Rick Santos and Matt Howe, the other customs agent, who got there a second later. He noticed bullet holes in the Blazer and a flat left front tire. Robin moved around the front of the Blazer and positioned himself by the right front headlight, with the right front wheel between himself and the suspect. He aimed his rifle at the suspect's chest. In the glow of the searchlight, he saw no movement.
A half minute later, Rick came around and told Robin they had cleared the Blazer. Robin told Burke and Mark Warren, the other member of Robin's team, to scan the area on the other side of the Blazer. He and Rick did the same. It looked clear.
“Okay, guys,” Robin said, “It seems one of us got lucky and hit the suspect, because he looks deader than a door nail. But we'll go through the drill. I'll do it. Cover me.”
“Roger-dodger, Sarge,” Burke responded.
Robin moved out parallel to the suspect, until he passed the man's head. He dropped to one knee and scanned the area for any movement around
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