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

Chapter four: Do not fear those who operate in the shadows

Oslo, Norway

Three minutes later, a loud screech of tires roared to a halt outside the shooting range. The door of the Hummer swung open as Trond Gunner stepped out, slamming the door behind him. As a lead field agent for E14, he oversaw the highly classified section within the Norwegian intelligence service and missions on their soil. His expression hardened as he walked into the shop outside the shooting range. His eyes narrowed on Holiday and Red behind the counter in the operations center. He storms behind the counter, entering the ops center.

His eyes bore into Holiday as he let out a harsh breath. Rage pulses through his veins. "Goddammit Holiday, we had Stenberg undersurvelliance ever since he left his bank. We could have gotten some insight after we interrogated him. There isn't any video feed of your man on the CCTV, but I know it was him.

"My orders to eliminate Stenberg edict Twelve: any means necessary. As for your intelligence, we have the burner and the private invite to the party in Corfu," Eric scowled.

Trond sighed as he chose his words carefully before he spoke. "I have direct orders from the US Embassy here that your so-called solo operation is done."

"No, the operation isn't over at all, Trond," Holiday snapped. Look, this is bigger than you think; we're after the organization that Stenberg was working for." He pointed over to one of the screens with the photograph and the intel on it.

Trond froze for a second. His eyes narrowed on the lady in the photograph. No, couldn't it be? He flashed onto memory: his meeting with the Norwegian outside the US Embassy; three seconds later, he was struck down by a 50-caliber round from extreme distances.

"Medusa." We had been after her for a long time but could never track her down. You're telling me that she is an assassin for this organization, Headshot?"

"Exactly. If you want to bring down Medusa, I suggest that you and Red work together," Holiday told him.

"I don't work with cowboys like him; they are loose cannons and can't be trusted."

"Listen," Eric snarled. How dare you call me a cowboy? I did what I had to do to get results quickly. You may not like how I operate, but trust me, I'm your only chance of bringing down Medusa; after all, she has tried to put me in the ground to get the briefcase."

Holiday slammed his fist down on the table. "Enough; we need to find out who is behind Headshot before they can order their next hit. So yes, you are going to work with Red on this. This is going to be a joint intelligence operation."

He'd never liked the idea of a joint intelligence operation; you were never certain what the other side was going to do. And besides, he had always operated alone all the time. It was better for him that way, but if Holiday wanted him to work with the Norwegian agent, he would do that. Every operation had a contingency plan; there was always a little detail that could go wrong when planning it.

Trond figured whoever had dispatched Medusa to eliminate the Norwegian ambassador had to be very dangerous and powerful with far-reach connections. The banker had been his only lead to getting answers to whoever was behind it. Norwegian intelligence never enjoyed getting their hands dirty. He knew that the King and Prime Minister weren't too happy with the mess that Holiday and Red made here.

Trond shook his head as he sighed."If Medusa is going to be at this party, she will know that you're not Stenberg Red. So tell me, how are you going to get in with the invite?

Eric rubbed his chin as his eyebrows rose, thinking about how they were going to get past the countersnipers that would be placed on the roof there.  He remembered When he had been a sniper for Seal Team 6, he'd killed a couple of Russian Spetsnaz counter-snipers in Afghanistan. It had been his first kill. If they were going up with these kinds of snipers, he knew well that they better repair them. He studied the Norwegian agent, seeing his sidearm holstered in his holster.