Chapter 18
“No plan,” Duane scratched at his chin.
“Nope,” Fred Smith offered cheerfully.
It was classic Delta, without being classic Delta.
“Usually you at least give us a damned target,” Chad’s growl filled the small, highly secure conference room at the Yakima Research Station with a dangerous sound.
The Unit was typically provided with very specific tasks, but not specific methodologies. The how was their specialty, achieving the impossible. But this time they weren’t being told what they were supposed to be achieving in the first place.
Smith finally spoke up, perhaps to avoid destruction-by-Chad. “We have spent a week introducing you to all of the intelligence we have on Venezuela’s current regime. It’s a vicious dictatorship only marginally cloaked in due process. The judiciar
