The Fireball Assignment [antikvár]

Chapter One Slowly, painfully, Dov Abrams crawled over the sharp rocks lining the bottom of the winding gully at the base of Mt. Hermon, or as the Syrians called it, Jesh Sheikh. A twisting ditch that was only four feet deep and wouldn't have presented much of a barrier to the stone bunker sitting fat and ready in the late afternoon sun a few hundred yards away. A small but evidently valuable sun-bleached old building that perched on the edge of the Syrian Desert as it collided with the foothills of Mt. Hermon. A military objective that could have been easily bypassed except someone at headquarters wanted it. So Abrams and his demolition team had been sent to inspect the supposedly deserted bunker and disarm any booby traps the retreating Syrians might've left behind. Just a stupid stone structure that wouldn't have made a decent outhouse. But one that had already cost one Israeli life and had almost ended Abrams'. It wasn't the shallow ravine that was presenting a problem to Abrams though. It was the sniper hidden further up the mountainside. A lone Arab with a rifle and scope. A man who was expert enough to kill one of Abrams' team as they had crawled out of the gully and good enough to almost get Abrams. Stopping to ease the ache in his palms that had been chewed