Operation Zulu Redemption--Complete Season 1

Main Characters

Military Terms

Overkill – The Beginning

I

Part 1: Collateral Damage

II

III

IV

Part 2: Out of Nowhere

V

VI

VII

Part 3: Hazardous Duty

VIII

IX

X

Part 4: Act of Treason

XI

XII

XIII

About the Author

Main Characters

Zulu One: Annie Palermo

aka Ashland Palmieri

After the tragic mission in Misrata, Annie became Ashland Palmieri, renting a small house on Lake Wapato and working at a sub shop in Manson, Washington. But the intrusion of a handsome former Navy SEAL,
Sam Caliguari
, threatens everything she’s worked to build and protect.

Zulu Two: Téya Reiker

aka Katherine “Katie” Gerig

After Misrata, Téya became Katherine “Katie” Gerig, embracing the quiet life of her Amish grandmother in Bleak Pond, Pennsylvania. She’s at peace for the first time in her life and is set to take the faith and start a relationship with
David Augsburger
.

Zulu Three: Jessica “Jessie” Herring

aka Jamie Hendricks

After Misrata, Jessie became Jamie Hendricks and fell into many of the vices of “Sin City”—Las Vegas, Nevada. The tragedy in Misrata fractured her psyche, and she could never pull herself back together. She’s a computer specialist, and despite orders not to, she continued researching what happened in Misrata.

Zulu Four: Candice Reyna

aka Charlotte Reynolds

After Misrata, Candice became a park ranger at Denali National Park in Alaska, who goes by the name Charlotte “Charlie” Reynolds.

Zulu Five: Keeley Shay

aka Kendall Shine

After Misrata, Keeley Shay became Kendall Shine, a dive instructor on Little Cayman Island.

Zulu Six: Nuala King

aka Nyah Kesebi

After Misrata, Nuala King became Nyah Kesebi, who works at a lodge in the Blue Ridge Mountains in North Carolina.

LTC Trace Weston

Lieutenant Colonel Trace Weston was a Special Forces operator and team leader who assembled the Zulu team. He is now working for U.S. Intelligence and Security Command (INSCOM).

CWO2 Boone Ramage

Chief Warrant Officer Boone Ramage is Trace Weston’s former right-hand man. He helped train the Zulu team.

SFC Rusty Gray

Sergeant First Class Rusty Gray is former Special Forces operator who helped train the Zulu team.

Lieutenant Francesca “Frankie” Solomon

Frankie Solomon, daughter of
Brigadier General Haym Solomon
, works for U.S. Intelligence and Security Command (INSCOM).

Houston Plunkett
is an Information Systems Specialist working with Trace and Boone to protect and vindicate Zulu.

Kellie Hollister
and
Mercy Chandler
are cofounders of the organization HOMe—Hope of Mercy, International—which had a branch located in Misrata, Libya.

Berg Ballenger
worked with HOMe. His wife and child died in the tragedy at Misrata.

Giles Stoffel
, husband of Mercy Chandler, is the CEO and owner of Spirapoulos Holdings.

Titus Batsakis
is the owner of Aegean Defense Systems.

The Lorings (Carl, Sharlene, Cora, and Charles)
are a family who have been hiding in Greece and may have information about the incident in Misrata.

Military Terms

ACU
– Army combat uniform

AHOD
– all hands on deck

Airsoft M4
– tactical Airsoft (paint pellet) assault rifle

BUD/S
– Basic Underwater Demolition/SEAL Training

CQC
– close quarters combat

DOD
– Department of Defense

GIS
– Italian Carabinieri Special Intervention Group

Glock 17
– a semiautomatic handgun

HK USP Compact
– a compact semiautomatic handgun

HUMINT
– Human intelligence

INSCOM
– U.S. Intelligence and Security Command

JAG
– Judge Advocate General

JBER
– Joint Base Elmendorf-Richardson

KA-BAR
– type of combat knife

MP
– military police

M4A1
– an assault rifle

NVGs
– night vision goggles

PIT
– pursuit intervention technique/tactic

RPG
– rocket-propelled grenade

RTB
– return to base

SAIC
– Special Agent in Charge

SF
– Special Forces

SOP
– standard operating procedure

SOCOM
– Special Operations Command

SureFire
– a tactical flashlight.

Overkill – The Beginning

Tonight, I die
.

A shot cracked the night. Sparks zinged off a Dumpster as she sprinted past it. Blood pounded against her temples as she raced through the dark stench. She skidded and slapped her hand against a brick building to slingshot around a corner. She pushed off, the texture roughing her palm. She stumbled but caught traction. A split-second glance into the ebony tapestry revealed nothing. The dark alleys of Sin City refused to lift the hem of their darkness, refused to show her who or what pursued her. But she could feel it. Feel
them
.

And she’d never doubted that instinct. Not now. Not five years ago.

“Quit staring,” she whispered to herself, her pulse whooshing in her ears. “Go.” Jessica Herring threw herself around. Tumbled into a steel bin overflowing with rotting food and boxes. She shoved away, but not before the Dumpster lashed out, searing her cheek with the cut of a flattened box. Pain flashed across her face.

It was nothing compared to what
they
would do if they caught her. If she didn’t get back in enough time… She sprinted down the narrow sliver of space between two multistoried buildings. Splashed the puddles of rainwater. Ducked into a corner for a moment to breathe, to get her bearings.

She peeked out, careful to stay within the shadows, and surveyed the lit street. Cars rolled past, slowing at a red light.

Lights. Lights. Lights. Too many! She’d be spotted immediately.

A large black Suburban lumbered onto the street.

Jessie yanked back, hauling in a hard breath as she flattened herself against the wall. Bricks dug into her shoulders. Chest heaving from the hard run the last couple of miles, she rested her head but watched the road at the same time. A breeze scampered across her shoulders, breathing a chill past the tank top and down her spine.

This was it.

Live to survive one disaster, only to die in another.

Right. Because that’s just how life worked.

Heavy thuds gave pursuit, hammering. Shouting. Screaming her stupidity for stopping.

Waited too long
. The men had caught up, racing toward her from the rear of the buildings.

Jessie eyed the roof of the alcove. Feet on the wall in front of her and arms behind her, she shimmied up. Her leaden legs threatened to defy her attempts, but she commanded obedience. Just had to get back to the apartment. She pressed her spine against the ceiling and prayed this was enough to conceal her. Buy her some time.

Three men ran past her hiding spot, skating to a stop in the open street.

Arms trembling, she waited.
Go on. Keep moving
.

If she dropped now, they’d see and hear her.

Jessie gritted her teeth. Steeled her aching limbs.

That black SUV returned, sliding to a stop in front of the men.

“Anything?” a male voice asked.

“Nothing,” one said. Another, “Lost her.”

“Find her. He wants her
dead
!”

Feeling’s mutual
, Jessie thought as her arms bounced under the strain. She slumped, her shoulder ramming into the brick. She only allowed a grunt to escape before catching herself. Waited to make sure she hadn’t alerted them to her presence, that there was enough noise with the traffic that they didn’t hear her.

The men went in opposite directions.

About time.

Jessie dropped to her feet, muscles taut as she worked to temper the sound her boots made in the dirty alcove where pamphlets, dust, and rock swirled. She shot a glance around before stepping into the open again.

She jogged back to the end of the alley. Banked right and headed in the direction of her apartment.
Slow down. Look natural
. She hadn’t been as careful as she’d thought. What had she done to give herself away?

Okay, chatting with Candice was probably a bad idea. But they hid their identity. There wasn’t anything to track them back.

She trotted out onto the main street. Too bad she wasn’t wearing something she could shed. Change her appearance.

“Church Girl.”

Jessie felt the smile before she realized she’d put it on her face. “Hey, Bardo.” The African American loping toward her, his pants hanging practically on his hips and his boxers exposed, grinned, his head back in that gangsta way of his. But Bardo… Bardo was cool. He looked out for her.