Tom Clancy's Ghost Recon

Book 1: Ghost Recon

by David Michaels

Genres: Spy Thrillers; Military Thrillers; Suspense

Synopsis

The U.S. Army’s Special Forces are known for their highly specialized training and courage behind enemy lines. But there’s a group that’s even more stealthy and deadly. It’s comprised of the most feared operators on the face of the earth—the soldiers of Ghost Recon.

Release date: November 4, 2008

Publisher: Berkley

Print pages: 384

Sample

Table of Contents

Title Page

Copyright Page

Acknowledgements

Epigraph

 

ONE

TWO

THREE

FOUR

FIVE

SIX

SEVEN

EIGHT

NINE

TEN

ELEVEN

TWELVE

THIRTEEN

FOURTEEN

FIFTEEN

SIXTEEN

SEVENTEEN

EIGHTEEN

NINETEEN

TWENTY

TWENTY-ONE

TWENTY-TWO

TWENTY-THREE

TWENTY-FOUR

TWENTY-FIVE

TWENTY-SIX

TWENTY-SEVEN

TWENTY-EIGHT

TWENTY-NINE

THIRTY

THIRTY-ONE

THIRTY-TWO

THIRTY-THREE

THIRTY-FOUR

THIRTY-FIVE

 

THE BESTSELLING NOVELS OF TOM CLANCY

THE TEETH OF THE TIGER

A new generation—Jack Ryan, Jr.—takes over in Tom Clancy’s
extraordinary, and extraordinarily prescient, novel.

“INCREDIBLY ADDICTIVE.” —Daily Mail (London)

 

 

RED RABBIT

Tom Clancy returns to Jack Ryan’s early days—
in an engrossing novel of global political drama . . .

“A WILD, SATISFYING RIDE.” —New York Daily News

 

 

THE BEAR AND THE DRAGON

A clash of world powers. President Jack Ryan’s trial by fire.

“HEART-STOPPING ACTION . . . CLANCY STILL REIGNS.” —The Washington Post

 

 

RAINBOW SIX

John Clark is used to doing the CIA’s dirty work.
Now he’s taking on the world . . .

“ACTION-PACKED.” —The New York Times Book Review

 

 

EXECUTIVE ORDERS

A devastating terrorist act leaves Jack Ryan
as President of the United States . . .

“UNDOUBTEDLY CLANCY’S BEST YET.”

—The Atlanta Journal-Constitution

 

 

DEBT OF HONOR

It begins with the murder of an American woman
in the backstreets of Tokyo. It ends in war . . .

“A SHOCKER.” —Entertainment Weekly

 

 

WITHOUT REMORSE

His code name is Mr. Clark. And his work for the CIA
is brilliant, cold-blooded, and efficient . . . but who is he really?

“HIGHLY ENTERTAINING.” —The Wall Street Journal

 

 

THE SUM OF ALL FEARS

The disappearance of an Israeli nuclear weapon threatens the
balance of power in the Middle East—and around the world . . .

“CLANCY AT HIS BEST . . . NOT TO BE MISSED.”

—The Dallas Morning News

 

 

CLEAR AND PRESENT DANGER

The killing of three U.S. officials in Colombia ignites the
American government’s explosive, and top secret, response . . .

“A CRACKLING GOOD YARN.” —The Washington Post

 

 

THE CARDINAL OF THE KREMLIN

The superpowers race for the ultimate Star Wars
missile defense system . . .

“CARDINAL EXCITES, ILLUMINATES . . . A REAL PAGE-TURNER.” —Los Angeles Daily News

 

 

PATRIOT GAMES

CIA analyst Jack Ryan stops an assassination—
and incurs the wrath of Irish terrorists . . .

“A HIGH PITCH OF EXCITEMENT.”

—The Wall Street Journal

 

 

RED STORM RISING

The ultimate scenario for World War III—
the final battle for global control . . .

“THE ULTIMATE WAR GAME . . . BRILLIANT.”

—Newsweek

 

 

THE HUNT FOR RED OCTOBER

The smash bestseller that launched Clancy’s career—
the incredible search for a Soviet defector
and the nuclear submarine he commands . . .

“BREATHLESSLY EXCITING.” —The Washington Post

Novels by Tom Clancy

THE HUNT FOR RED OCTOBER
RED STORM RISING
PATRIOT GAMES
THE CARDINAL OF THE KREMLIN
CLEAR AND PRESENT DANGER
THE SUM OF ALL FEARS
WITHOUT REMORSE
DEBT OF HONOR
EXECUTIVE ORDERS
RAINBOW SIX
THE BEAR AND THE DRAGON
RED RABBIT
THE TEETH OF THE TIGER

 

SSN: STRATEGIES OF SUBMARINE WARFARE

 

 

Nonfiction

 

SUBMARINE: A GUIDED TOUR INSIDE A NUCLEAR WARSHIP
ARMORED CAV: A GUIDED TOUR OF AN ARMORED CAVALRY REGIMENT
FIGHTER WING: A GUIDED TOUR OF AN AIR FORCE COMBAT WING
MARINE: A GUIDED TOUR OF A MARINE EXPEDITIONARY UNIT
AIRBORNE: A GUIDED TOUR OF AN AIRBORNE TASK FORCE
CARRIER: A GUIDED TOUR OF AN AIRCRAFT CARRIER
SPECIAL FORCES: A GUIDED TOUR OF U.S. ARMY SPECIAL FORCES

 

 

INTO THE STORM: A STUDY IN COMMAND
(written with General Fred Franks, Jr., Ret., and Tony Koltz)

 

EVERY MAN A TIGER
(written with General Charles Horner, Ret., and Tony Koltz)

 

SHADOW WARRIORS: INSIDE THE SPECIAL FORCES
(written with General Carl Stiner, Ret., and Tony Koltz)

 

BATTLE READY
(written with General Tony Zinni, Ret., and Tony Koltz)

 

 

TOM CLANCY’S GHOST RECON

 

 

Created by Tom Clancy

TOM CLANCY’S ENDWAR

 

 

TOM CLANCY’S SPLINTER CELL

SPLINTER CELL
OPERATION BARRACUDA
CHECK M ATE

 

FALLOUT

 

 

Created by Tom Clancy and Steve Pieczenik

 

TOM CLANCY’S OP-CENTER

OP-CENTER
MIRROR IMAGE
GAMES OF STATE
ACTS OF WAR
BALANCE OF POWER
STATE OF SIEGE
DIVIDE AND CONQUER
LINE OF CONTROL
MISSION OF HONOR
SEA OF FIRE
CALL TO TREASON
WAR OF EAGLES

 

TOM CLANCY’S NET FORCE

NET FORCE
HIDDEN AGENDAS
NIGHT MOVES
BREAKING POINT
POINT OF IMPACT
CYBER NATION
STATE OF WAR
CHANGING OF THE GUARD
SPRINGBOARD
THE ARCHIMEDES EFFECT

 

 

 

Created by Tom Clancy and Martin Greenberg

TOM CLANCY’S POWER PLAYS

POLITIKA
RUTHLESS.COM
SHADOW WATCH
BIO-STRIKE
COLD WAR
CUTTING EDGE
ZERO HOUR
WILD CARD

THE BERKLEY PUBLISHING GROUP Published by the Penguin Group Penguin Group (USA) Inc. 375 Hudson Street, New York, New York 10014, USA Penguin Group (Canada), 90 Eglinton Avenue East, Suite 700, Toronto, Ontario M4P 2Y3, Canada (a division of Pearson Penguin Canada Inc.) Penguin Books Ltd., 80 Strand, London WC2R 0RL, England Penguin Group Ireland, 25 St. Stephen’s Green, Dublin 2, Ireland (a division of Penguin Books Ltd.) Penguin Group (Australia), 250 Camberwell Road, Camberwell, Victoria 3124, Australia (a division of Pearson Australia Group Pty. Ltd.) Penguin Books India Pvt. Ltd., 11 Community Centre, Panchsheel Park, New Delhi—110 017, India Penguin Group (NZ), 67 Apollo Drive, Rosedale, North Shore 0632, New Zealand (a division of Pearson New Zealand Ltd.) Penguin Books (South Africa) (Pty.) Ltd., 24 Sturdee Avenue, Rosebank, Johannesburg 2196, South Africa

 

Penguin Books Ltd., Registered Offices: 80 Strand, London WC2R 0RL, England

 

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental. The publisher does not have any control over and does not assume any responsibility for author or third-party websites or their content.

 

TOM CLANCY’S GHOST RECON™

 

A Berkley Book / published by arrangement with Rubicon, Inc.

 

PRINTING HISTORY Berkley premium edition / November 2008

 

Copyright © 2008 by Rubicon, Inc.

 

All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without permission. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author’s rights. Purchase only authorized editions.

For information, address: The Berkley Publishing Group,
a division of Penguin Group (USA) Inc.,
375 Hudson Street, New York, New York 10014.

 

eISBN : 978-1-101-00376-3

 

BERKLEY®
Berkley Books are published by The Berkley Publishing Group,
a division of Penguin Group (USA) Inc.,
375 Hudson Street, New York, New York 10014.
BERKLEY® is a registered trademark of Penguin Group (USA) Inc.
The “B” design is a trademark of Penguin Group (USA) Inc.

 

 

 

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

The author would like to thank the following individuals whose technical advice and support made this book possible:

 

 

Mr. Tom Clancy

Mr. David Shanks

Mr. Tom Colgan

Mr. Michael Ovitz

Mr. Chris George

Ms. Sandra Harding

Mr. Robert Lang

Mr. James Ide, chief warrant officer, U.S. Navy (Ret.)

Major Mark Aitken, U.S. Army

Mr. Randy McElwee, master sergeant, U.S. Army (Ret.)

Major William R. Reeves, U.S. Army

Major Craig Walker, U.S. Air Force

Mr. Jean-Louis “Dutch” DeGay, Natick Soldier RDEC, U.S. Army

Mrs. Carole McDaniel (carole.mcdanieldesign.com)

William and Belinda Telep

 

 

From Blackhawk Products Group:

Mr. Mike Noel, U.S. Navy SEAL (Ret.)

Mr. Tom O’Sullivan, U.S. Army (Ret.)

Mr. Michael Janich, U.S. Army (Ret.)

Mr. Steve Matulewicz, command master chief, U.S. Navy SEAL (Ret.)

Mr. Brent Beshara, Canadian Special Forces (Ret.)

 

 

From Ubisoft:

Mr. Yves Guillemot

Mr. Gérard Guillemot

Mr. Serge Hascoet

Mr. Alexis Nolent

Mr. Olivier Henriot

Mr. Richard Dansky

Mr. Oliver Green

Mr. Cedrick Delmas

Mr. Terence Mosca

Mr. Eric Moutardier

Mr. Thomas Leroux-Hugon

Mr. Joshua Meyer

The Ubisoft Legal Department

I had rather have a plain, russet-coated captain that knows what he fights for, and loves what he knows, than that which you call a gentleman and is nothing else.

—Oliver Cromwell

 

 

 

 

Be extremely subtle, even to the point of formlessness. Be extremely mysterious, even to the point of soundless-ness. Thereby you can be the director of the opponent’s fate.

—Sun Tzu

 

 

 

 

Minimal consumption—use the least amount of combat resources sufficient to accomplish the objective.

—Colonel Qiao Liang and Colonel Wang Xiangsui, Unrestricted Warfare

PERSONNEL LIST

Ghosts

Operation War Wraith

 

 

Alpha Team

Captain Scott Mitchell

Master Sergeant Jose “Joe” Ramirez

Sergeant First Class Paul Smith

Sergeant First Class Alex Nolan

 

 

Bravo Team

Master Sergeant Matt Beasley

Sergeant First Class Bo Jenkins

Staff Sergeant John Hume

Sergeant Marcus Brown

 

 

Charlie Team

Sergeant Alicia Diaz

 

 

Ghost Command

Lieutenant Colonel Harold “Buzz” Gordon

Major Susan Grey, D CO. 1st BN. 5th SFG

General Joshua Keating, Commander of USSOCOM

Dr. Gail Gorbatova, Defense Intelligence Agency (DIA)

 

 

Spring Tigers

Operation Pouncing Dragon

 

Major-General Chen Yi (Target Alpha)

Colonel Xu Dingfa (Target Bravo)

Vice Admiral Cai Ming (Target Charlie)

Major-General Wu Hui (Target Delta)

Deputy Director Wang Ya, CMC Political Department

Captain Fang Zhi

 

 

USS Montana Control Team

Commanding Officer Captain Kenneth Gummerson

Lieutenant Commander Sands, Executive Officer

Master Chief Suallo, Chief of the Boat

SEAL Chief Tanner

SEAL Chief Phillips

Lieutenant Jeff Moch, Predator Support

Lieutenant Justin Schumaker, Predator Support

ONE

BASILAN ISLAND
SULU ARCHIPELAGO, SOUTHERN PHILIPPINES
AUGUST, 2002

 

Master Sergeant Scott Mitchell blinked at the sweat in his eyes and pushed on through the rubber plants, their leathery leaves brushing against his boonie hat and cheek. Ahead lay a slight clearing in the otherwise dense, twilit jungle, and Mitchell used his M4A1’s barrel to lift a thin branch as he hunkered down at the edge.

Captain Victor Foyte, his detachment commander, moved ahead beside an uneven stretch of wilting palm fronds still dripping from a storm that had rolled in several hours ago. “Ricochet, this is Road Warrior 06,” the captain whispered into his radio. “Think I see something. And I hear some buzzing, like flies. Let’s check it out, over.”

“Right with you, Boss,” answered Mitchell.

Although Foyte outranked him, Mitchell was the team sergeant, responsible for fighting all twelve members of Operational Detachment Alpha (ODA) 574. The captain and warrant officer coordinated with the twelve-man Filipino and Taiwanese teams they’d been cross-training with for the past two weeks.

Mitchell started forward as up to his right a snake coiled around an overhanging limb, its tongue fluttering. Special Forces operators ate bad guys for breakfast and snakes for supper; consequently, they weren’t unnerved by either. Nevertheless, Mitchell grimaced and got out of there to join the captain.

Barely three steps later, a whoosh of musty air, a rustle of leaves, and the sharp crack of a rope sent lightning bolts through his gut. He looked up and gasped.

The captain had been moving toward a pole stuck in the ground. Atop that pole was a human head with long, brown hair flowing around it.

A twenty-one-year-old American missionary had recently been captured by Abu Sayyaf, the local pseudo-Islamist terrorist group affiliated with al Qaeda. Military and police forces had been combing the island, looking for her and for Abu Sayyaf’s stronghold, hidden somewhere deep in the mountainous interior.

It seemed the captain had found the missing woman—and much more. A rope had snapped taut around one of his ankles, and now he was being hurled three meters into the air, screaming, “Ambush!”

Mitchell was about to get on the radio when the captain swung forward, a human pendulum heading straight for a tree impaled by rows of razor-sharp punji stakes now revealed as fronds strung up by more ropes fell away—all part of the carefully designed booby trap.

Captain Victor Foyte was only twenty-four years old, and in the next breath he slammed back-first into the punji stakes, the foot-long pieces of sharpened wood driving into his arms, neck, and torso.

The team had been operating light, forgoing body armor in the rainy, hundred-plus-degree jungle. Foyte shrieked and gurgled as the stakes grew slick with his blood.

Chief Warrant Officer 02 James Alvarado, who’d been positioned about a dozen meters behind them, burst forward crying, “Captain!” Alvarado cut loose multiple rounds below the tree where Foyte now hung, inverted and bleeding to death.

Again, Mitchell keyed his mike, ready to issue orders, but Alvarado’s gunfire cut him off.

This was Mitchell’s first live mission as a Special Forces operator. He was an experienced infantryman and team leader from an Opposing Force (OPFOR) recon unit at Fort Irwin. He already had an impressive résumé and was hoping to make a name for himself in the Special Forces community—yet in a flash, he’d already lost his first CO.

A strange thumping noise sounded as Alvarado ceased fire and advanced into the clearing. The warrant suddenly clutched his neck, where a tiny dart extended from between his fingers. He screamed as he tugged it out.

Mitchell dropped onto his gut as more thumping sounded behind them. Alvarado wobbled forward then crumpled to the ground, poisoned and probably dead.

The team was, it seemed, being attacked by loinclothed savages whose traps and blowguns had ironically overpowered the men with their thunder sticks.

“Mitchell?” called the captain, his voice burred by the agony, his face now drenched in blood. “Mitch . . . ell?”

Unable to stare at Foyte any longer, Mitchell finally got on the radio. “This is Ricochet. Ambush! Ambush! The captain and warrant are down!”

Before he could continue, the terrorists somewhere out there, crouching in the wet foliage, revealed they were not the loinclothed savages of Mitchell’s imagination but were, in fact, ruthless and modern killers.

So much automatic weapons fire blasted through the clearing that it sounded as though a thousand men with machetes were cutting apart the trees and fronds. Rounds from AK-47s and machine guns popped and boomed, wood splintered, and birds squawked and flew off as holes appeared in the leaves, the debris tumbling down on Mitchell as he rose to his elbows and spied his first pair of muzzle flashes.

At the same time, voices erupted over the radio:

“Ricochet, this is Rumblefish,” called the team’s weapons sergeant, Jim Idaho. “We’re taking fire from both flanks! Can’t get any shots from here! Need orders!”

“Ricochet, this is Red Cross. Got two men down,” reported Lance Munson, the team’s senior medic. “I need to evac these guys now!”

“Ricochet, I think we got incoming mortar—”

That last voice belonged to Rapper, one of the team’s engineers, who was cut off as a flash lit up the jungle just northeast of Mitchell’s position. A second later, the ground trembled, and a powerful explosion boomed across the landscape as showers of shrapnel and debris needled through the zone.

These terrorists were reckless, stupid, or insane, perhaps all three. They were laying down mortar fire on their own position. They didn’t care how many of their own they took out, so long as they killed the Americans.

Willing himself not to panic, reminding himself of who he was and the countless hours of training he had gone through, Master Sergeant Scott Mitchell, twenty-six, took command of the ODA team. “This is Ricochet! Listen up! Rumblefish? You and the rest of Bravo Team get to those wounded men and fall back south to our first waypoint. Rutang, Rockstar, and Rino, regroup on me. Move out!”

The team had been operating as two six-man units: Alpha and Bravo, with all radio call signs beginning with the letter R. Mitchell would exploit their division in order to provide cover for evacuating the wounded.

Another whistle rose in the night, this time closer, and suddenly the next mortar exploded, gray smoke and more shrapnel hurtling up through the canopy.

“Ricochet, this is Rutang,” called the team’s assistant medical sergeant, Thomas “Rutang” McDaniel. “Me and Rockstar are good to go, but Rino is gone, man. Hit by that last mortar. No pulse!”

There wasn’t time to tally up the dead. All Mitchell knew was that he needed support—ground, air, anything—and he needed it now. He acknowledged Rutang’s call, then switched frequencies, calling up Captain Fang Zhi’s Taiwanese team. They were much closer than the Filipino team and were working the grid on the other side of the creek. “Wushu 06, this is Ricochet, over.”

He waited, listened to the sound of his own breathing, the withering gunfire booming somewhere nearby, the shrill hiss of yet another mortar round, falling, falling . . .

“Wushu 06, this is Ricochet, over.”

Mitchell switched frequencies once more to call upon the Filipino Team. “Black Tiger 06, this is Ricochet, over.”

Boom! That distant mortar finally detonated.

“Ricochet, this is Black Tiger 06. I’ve heard what’s happening. We’re moving to your location, but we’re still pretty far. ETA about twenty minutes, over.”

“Roger that, Black Tiger. I have a lot of men down. Need you ASAP.” Mitchell fed the captain his current GPS coordinates, then added, “Don’t be late.”

“We are running, Sergeant.”

“Good! Ricochet, out.”

Captain Gilberto Yano, aka Black Tiger 06, was a member of the Philippine Army’s elite Light Reaction Battalion (LRB), the Delta Force of their army and specifically trained in counterterrorist activities. Yano was well-liked by his men and the rest of Mitchell’s team. Knowing Yano and his boys were already on the way felt good, but it was going to be the longest twenty minutes of Mitchell’s life.

And quite possibly the last.

Again, where the hell was Captain Fang Zhi? Mitchell called once more. No answer. Was he back in one of the nepa huts, smoking a cigar, while men died out here in the jungle?

Rutang and Rockstar hustled up and dropped down beside Mitchell.

Rutang was a baby-faced assistant medic and competitive video game player. He’d even entered and won several national tournaments, though he rarely bragged and was, for the most, curiously insecure about himself and his skills.