NIGHT DROP( A Eric the Red thriller: Book 1)

Chapter 6: Move swift as the wind and closely formed as the wood

Cartagena, Spain

Atticus grabbed his satellite phone  he entered a ten digit encrypted secured  number of the chief of security Flynn. If there was anyone who could find out who this Red, it was him. He held the phone up to his ear. Every instinct and gut was telling him that whoever this Red was, that he was going to be trouble for them. There had to be more to this Red?

Flynn reached into his pocket as he pulled out his burner and clicked the accept button before he spoke.

"Flynn," he answered in a cool firm tone.

"I need some intel on this Red. All I know that is, he'd  for work for the CIA, but I don't he's agent for them.

Interesting, Flynn thought to himself, it could be assassin's call name.

"I'll see what I can find out," Flynn replied as he headed for his office across the corridor.

He hurried over to his desk and sat down in the chair behind, typed in his password on the entry blank. Within seconds a new screen flashed onto.

Central Intelligence Agency You are entering a restricted site.

He immediately entered the name Red on the screen. A few seconds later, one result pinged on the screen as his fingers froze on the keyboard. He clicked on the result as the file flashed onto the screen.

"Okay, I got something for you on this Red.  His name is Eric Donovan, he's ex  an Navy seal sniper one of the best and efficient he'd a made record breaking shot from 2,657 yards in Afghanistan. His call name is Red. Everything else redacted, but what I can make out from it, he's an  assassin," he stated in a cold tone. 

Atticus had to admit 2,657 yards were impressive for a sniper, too bad he wasn't for them. They'd could have used someone like him with skills. At least now he knew who this was Red was, and they were up against. He tensed at the thought of the rest of the sniper 201 file been redacted. That meant only one thing: that someone up in the echelons of the CIA knew about Eric Donovan and that it was highly classified.

"We have a problem The banker was eliminated and we don't have the briefcase," Atticus informed him.

"God dammit Atticus, The banker works for the organization and we needed the briefcase," Flynn scowled.

"Don't worry, you can tell Huntley that we retrieve the briefcase from this Eric Donovan," Atticus stated. 

"I want this Eric Donovan put in the ground understand,  whatever it takes," Flynn demanded in a harsh tone.

"I'll make sure that he puts into to the ground, after we get the briefcase from him," Atticus told him.

"Good, because if you can't handle it, then I will have to do," Flynn asserted.

Atticus ended the conversation on his satellite phone placing  down on the table near the keyboard. Yes, he knew how dangerous Huntley's chief of security was and that he wasn't someone to be messed with or  be double crossed.  What they did. While he was an assassin he heard about Flynn and his secret assassination unit.

He pivoted from the large screen on the wall as he strode over to Emlin and says "Eric Donovan, he's an ex Navy seal sniper and he's one of their best. He's an  assassin for the CIA."

Emlin eyes widened as she raised an eyebrow and she turned crimson. "That explains why he was able to eliminate our banker from a distance and not get spotted by the security detail." 

Atticus nodded. "Huntley wants him put into the ground by whatever means Medusa. Trust me, you don't Flynn to Huntley's chief of security to handle it if you can't."

Her jaw tightened her lips draw back in a snarl and brows snapped together. " Huntley doesn't need to worry, I can handle this, trust me."

Atticus studied Emlin, seeing no change in her expression, knowing well that she could handle any targets Huntley wanted eliminated. 

She was a lethal killing machine, a Predator  at her best alright. But something kept nagging him. It wasn't that fact, she was one of their best assassins, no that wasn't it all. It was the fact that damn sniper turned assassin Eric the Red Donovan could be a problem for the organization, and that bothered him a lot.

He flashed onto the memory his first target for Headshot: Him lying in a prone position, atop of hotel peering his scope of his Remington 70, his target a four-star general who was going to the President with what he knew about Headshot. He slotted in a detachable 10- round mag; he fingered the trigger as the round, rushed through the muzzle and split the General's head like a grape as red blood oozed out.

He'd been in Oslo when Medusa had  her first target: The Norwegian ambassador, she had eliminated the ambassador with one shot and the round was 338. Lapua perfect for her target. He was pleased that she didn't even hesitate to pull the trigger. If You hesitated to pull the trigger in his life of business them you were no good.

For him, it was all about tracking the targets every moment, knowing the right advantages angles. Made a difference in the kill shot. He had several sniper rifles in each of wet jobs that he'd done. While every assassin had their favorite calibers to use and weapon, he often  told  them their best was the .338 Lapua for extreme distance shots.

"Medusa I want your best wet job team on this, nothing goes wrong With this hit," Atticus said as his forehead furrowed.

Emlin eyes gleamed with determination and adrenaline before she spoke. " Atticus relax my wet job team  will be ready to handle this Red."

Regardless of what Flynn had told him about  this Eric Donovan, he still  needed to find just how good this ex enlisted sniper was. That record breaking shot in Afghanistan kept nagging at him. There had to be a reason why the CIA had recruited and for who he was really working for?

Luckily, he had an asset in the legendary sniper course school who was a sniper, instructor who might shed light on how effective and efficient this sniper. He reached into his pocket, pulling out a casing from his sniper rifle. Now that he ran the safe house and the assassins for Headshot, he'd hadn't been out in the field in a while. He missed the adrenaline of squeezing the trigger, the rush of the bullet hitting his target before they even what happened.

He'd never revealed who he who really  was to Huntely, he had used many different aliases over the years that every intelligence service preferred to as the Ghost he liked the call name The Ghost it suited him well. That was fine by him in the world of assassins nothing was what it really seem? He tossed the casing over to Medusa as she caught in her fingers.