First Strike

Though Jay kept Duke pinned to the ground, one hand shot to his earpiece. Morse code dots and dashes clicked rapidly in his ear, a hasty relay of the information that his infiltrators—codenamed for chess pieces—had gleaned from their stealthy intrusion into the crumbling Florentine villa.

Lifting his knee off of Duke’s back, he got to his feet and his opposite hand shot to his two-way radio. “I want all knights to meet Al on channel three-point-six. Al, you relay directly to me with the bishops on four-point-two. Knights one, two and three—take the north and east entrances. Knights, four, five and six—you’re on the south and west. Remaining knights, you’re with me.”

He extended a hand, pulling Duke to his feet as he continued issuing brusque orders. “Safeties off. I want the first level secured in three minutes. Use gas to force any escapees into the lower level and drive them out the northwest stairwell to us. Do not engage them while they have the hostage.”

Without waiting for fur