The Last Vampire
Chapter 1
Louis Armstrong International Airport, New Orleans, 2010
The white airline catering van lurched to a stop.
Captain Scott Boulder crouched in the dim, hot cargo area behind the driver’s seat with the three other members of his assault team. They wore black tactical hoods, fatigues, Kevlar vests, and combat boots, and carried MP5s and flexicuffs. The bare minimum so they could move. Fast.
Scott spoke into his headset, “Team Ultra to base. We’ve reached the target.”
“We read you, Team Ultra,” came the crackling reply. “Spotter reports four, repeat, four hijackers aboard the aircraft.”
Men of unknown nationality had hijacked an Airbus A320 on the ground and demanded the release of military prisoners from Guantánamo Bay. How the assholes got AK-47s and grenades on board was anybody’s guess. Officials had three hours to meet their demands or the hijackers would start killing a passenger every fifteen minutes.
The U.S. government didn’t negotiate with terrorists, at least not directly. More often than not, they sent a team like Boulder’s to do the ...
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