Final Crossing: A Novel of Suspense by Carter Wilson

words.
    “ Nothing, sir.”
    “ You read Somali?”
    “ No, sir.”
    Jonas wanted to ask another question, but then he felt something. Maybe it was a change in the air pressure. Maybe the noise on the busy street abated for just a second, as if a rift in time rolled through the urban market. Whatever it was, it caused Jonas to turn his head. The street teemed with locals darting in and out of buildings. No one strolled. No one seemed eager to spend too much time out in the open.
    A dirty white taxi rolled by, its wheels kicking dust off the unpaved road. No passenger.
    “ Heads up,” Jonas said. He took a step forward, allowing separation between the two men.
    “ It’s here,” Sonman said, quiet enough Jonas barely heard. “What’s here?”
    “ I don’t know,” Sonman said. “But it’s gonna change things.” Jonas looked over at him and wondered what the hell the soldier was talking about. He decided not to dig deeper at the moment.
    Across the street, two Pakistani soldiers looked over. They were part of the United Task Force, who, along with U.S. Forces, were all part of Operation Restore Hope. They were there to secure an environment the U.N. could no longer contain. It was the Wild West out here, Jonas thought. With automatic weapons.
    Jonas had seen the Pakistanis earlier, walking through the heart of the market. They were professionals. Well trained. They kept their space between them and treated the locals with respect. The larger one gave Jonas a slight nod. Brothers in arms.
    That single nod took away Jonas’s momentary apprehension. Whatever had raised his hackles was soothed by the sight of the other soldiers.
    Sit norm.
    Jonas nodded back.
    As the Pakistani turned to his comrade, a shot cracked through the air.
    The Pakistani crumbled, and Jonas saw the reason. Clean shot through the front of the throat. Blood sprayed from the wound as the soldier collapsed onto the dirt of the street.
    Sniper.
    “ Take cover!” Jonas shouted.
    Sonman fell back and secured a position against the chipped wall of the building adjacent to their position. He called in for support as Jonas raced across the street.
    “ Get back! Get back!” Jonas shouted at screaming pedestrians. The Somalis scattered everywhere, disappearing into buildings in seconds. The cab driver spun the wheels of his car, which took a few rotations before gripping firmly and shooting the car in a spray of dust and dirt down the street.
    The second Pakistani soldier froze. He stared at his fallen comrade with wide, panic-laden eyes.
    Bad place to freeze.
    The second shot cracked through the air just as Jonas reached to pull the soldier to the ground. The bullet smashed into the Pakistani’s face, exploding skin and bone into a spray of pulpy mist. The impact snapped his head back violently before the rest of his body collapsed only feet from his comrade’s own pool of blood.
    There was nothing he could do for the men, and Jonas questioned his decision to run into the line of fire. He crouched, spun, and used his M16 to quickly scope the windows in the three-story building across the street.
    Nothing.
    He looked at building’s entrance and motioned to Sonman, who leaned against it, shielded from above by a rusted tin awning. He pointed up and gave him the signal to wait.
    They could do a room-by-room search, covering each other along the way. More troops would be on scene to assist in moments, but they couldn’t afford to waste any time. Jonas prepared to burst to his feet and sprint across the street.
    Then Sonman ran.
    He didn’t run away. He ran into the building. Without waiting for his commanding officer. Directly against protocol and any sense of logic.
    He just fucking ran.
    “ Wait! ” Jonas shouted as he leapt to his feet.
    An enormous lead fist punched him in the chest.
    He’d been hurt before, but this was different. This was like a car hitting him, slamming him into the ground. His mind spun but his training took over, and he