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Bill had debated the allocation of teams. He hated to put Trisha back in harm’s way, but it made the most sense. He and Trisha knew the pirates’ compound in westernmost Bosaso far better than anyone else.
“Merchant and Max, your teams go on either end of the Gracie. Vengeance, you’re their hammer on high. Vicious, you’re into the compound with the May. Remember folks, maximum three minutes contact, then I want us gone with or without the ship. We can always scuttle her from the air.”
How many missions had gone like this? All the planning, preparation, transport, and infiltration, and it all came down to a few minutes, or occasionally a few seconds, of contact. It had always struck him as odd, like they were the tiny lethal tip of an immensely long lance.
“Okay, Billy.” Trisha interr
