Task Force Blue [antikvár]

Chapter 1It has been said that getting there is half the fun. If so, it must have been time to Get There already, because I was in real bad need of some fun. To help things along, I finished my quarter-mile, early-moming slog and emerged from the slimy-bottomed salt pond into the cool March Florida rain, looking, feeling, and (more significantly) smelling very much like your unfriendly Creature from the Black Lagoon.I drained sour, brackish water from my ballistic goggles. I shook sediment from the HK USP .45-caliber pistol strapped to my right thigh in a nylon tactical holster. I squeezed as much moisture as I could from my French braid, retied the black cotton "Do" rag around my hair, slipped the rubber radio earpiece into my ear, and wrestled with the wire lip mike that ran from the earpiece around my face under my mustache (it wanted to take up residence inside my right nostril, not above my lip where it belonged). I pulled a soggy, fleece-lined Nomex balaclava over my head, and then adjusted the forty pounds of Class IIIA Plus Point Blank load-bearing body armor that had slowed me like a sea anchor while fording the pond, making me feel as