Black Ops: Libya

By Matt Lynn

Tripoli: 2011. The most dangerous place on earth. Unit Five, a NATO Special Forces squad specialising in Black Ops, drops two of its most experienced men into the city. Former SAS man Alex Marden and ex-Navy Seal Jack Rogan are sent to retrieve a document that, if it fell into the hands of rebel forces, would cause the downfall of the British and American governments.

But they are soon caught up in the chaos surrounding the collapse of the regime of the old dictator Colonel Zayed.

And they are thrown into a conspiracy in which only they are expendable.

Black Ops: Libya is a terrifyingly realistic action thriller ripped straight from the headlines.

It is a brand-new novella from Matt Lynn, the best-selling author of the ‘Death Force’ series of adventure thrillers, including ‘Death Force’, ‘Fire Force’, ‘Shadow Force’ and ‘Ice Force’.

Matt Lynn's books have received a series of five-star reviews.

'I was anticipating a good time and I wasn't disappointed. A cracking action thriller. You can taste the dust and smell the blood'

(Daily Express )

'Matt Lynn's novel is up there with the finest that Andy McNab or Chris Ryan have ever penned'

(News of the World )

'Brilliant, realistic and riveting; blistering front-line action'

(Chris Ryan )

"If you're a fan of modern military thrillers you're going to have fun with anything Matt Lynn writes..."

(The Northern Echo)

"For teenage boys or simply for those men who don't want to grow up, Shadow Force is a cracking read. Intellectually stimulating it ain't; fantastic fun it most certainly is."

(ABC Brisbane)

'This is a fast-paced and well-told tale of derring-do that guarantees entertainment."

(City AM)

Black Ops: Libya is a thrilling, contemporary adventure story, perfect for fans of Lee Child, Tom Clancy and Andy McNab.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Matt Lynn
• Release date: Aug 30, 2011
• ISBN: 9781465909602

Matt Lynn

Matt Lynn is the author of the 'Death Force' series of adventure thrillers, including 'Death Force', 'Fire Force' and 'Shadow Force'. 'I was anticipating a good time and I wasn't disappointed. A cracking action thriller. You can taste the dust and smell the blood,' said the Daily Express. 'Matt Lynn's novel is up there with the finest that Andy McNab or Chris Ryan have ever penned,' said the News of the World.

Book preview

Black Ops: Libya

Copyright 2011 Matt Lynn

Smashwords Edition License Notes

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person you share it with. If you're reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then you should return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the author's work.

Author’s Note

Black Ops: Libya is the first in a new series of short thrillers designed as a cross between journalism and fiction. Each Black Ops story will be ripped straight from the headlines and written and published as events unfold. This story is inspired by events in Tripoli in August 2011, but of course is entirely fictitious. The character of The Colonel is invented, and no resemblance is intended to any real person. Readers who enjoy this story might like to try my longer e-books, ‘Death Force’, ‘Fire Force’ and ‘Shadow Force’.

- Matt Lynn, August, 2011

Chapter One

Every time he rode into a battle on a chopper Alex Marden wrestled with the same dilemma. Gloves or no gloves? Get your hands ripped to shreds or risk getting shot to pieces as soon as you hit the ground?

Gloves would protect your palms as you abseiled out of the chopper. But they’d also stop you reaching for you gun. If they were thick enough to stop your skin getting shredded, they’d also stop you slotting your finger into the trigger of the SA-80 assault rifle you’d need to open up the moment you hit the ground if you were to have any chance of surviving the raid.

That’s soldiering, he thought to himself with a weary shrug.

A series of brutal choices. Intense pain or sudden death. If you don’t like it, you’re in the wrong business.

He reached down into his kit bag and took out the gloves, pulling them carefully over his hands. Across the interior of the Black Hawk, Jack Rogan looked up, a smirk playing on his tanned, weather-beaten face. You SAS boys like to look after yourself? he said. He shook his head, and chuckled to himself. Maybe you’d like some sun cream as well. Make sure nothing happens to your skin.

I’m sod all use to anyone if my hands are bleeding so badly that I can’t shoot straight, said Alex.

He’d only met Rogan in the briefing room an hour ago. A former Navy Seal, who’d been hounded out of his unit for drinking and gambling, he was a legendarily tough soldier, but undisciplined and opinionated.

A man who was an unreliable as he was fierce.

Expendable, in other words.

Like all the other men in Unit Five. The Black Ops Brigade as it was known in military circles. A top-secret NATO force, composed purely of Special Forces men, all with something to hide, they were deployed in the most desperate, deniable missions. They were men who’d already been written off. No risk was too great for them. And no job too dangerous.

And you are no use to anyone if you’re already dead, snapped Jack. You’ll still be fiddling with your gloves when the shooting starts.

How many firefights have you bloody well abseiled into? growled Alex.

Enough to know how to stay alive.

Steady, boys, intervened Lothar Kroos.

A big, heavy veteran of the Kommando Spezialkrafte, the German equivalent of the SAS or the Navy Seals, Lothar was the oldest man on the team that had been scratched together for this mission. Almost forty, he had ten years on the rest of the guys in the chopper, and he acted as if his age gave him authority over the rest of the team. But Alex was already starting to resent the way the German assumed command. That wasn’t the way it was meant to work in Unit Five. Every man’s voice counted for the same, even if it was the equality of the damned.

We’ve got enough of a fight on without turning on each other, interrupted Paul Layton.

A recruit from the Australian SASR, that country’s version of the SAS, Paul was the youngest of the quartet going into battle today. A chipper, sun-tanned Aussie, with a wry sense of humour, he was always quick to soothe over any disagreements.

Jack chuckled again. You wear your gloves if you want to man, he said, glancing towards Alex. The rest of us will take care of the enemy, and we’ll come to you for a manicure when the shooting’s all finished.

Alex ignored him and glanced from the open door. The Black Hawk was skimming low over the Libyan interior. It had taken off an hour ago from HMS Stanley, a British aircraft carrier stationed a few miles off the North African coastline. It was heading straight for the target. An oil installation, ten miles east of Murzurq, deep inside the country. A break-away group of rebel fighters had taken control of the wells, and were holding six European engineers hostage. Two Brits, a Dutch guy, a Frenchman, a Pole and an Italian. Their job was top get them out. Alive preferably.

Impact in five minutes, shouted the pilot.

The words were barked through the headphones each man had slotted over his head.

Alex glanced from the chopper. Christ, he muttered under his breath.

Thick plumes of smoke were rising from the compound. It was just a couple of miles ahead of them now. The Black Hawk had been skimming low, keeping as close to the ground as possible, to avoid being detected by radar, although after months of fighting there was little left of the Libyan air force to put up much resistance. The briefing had been clear enough. Fly in close to the installation, drop down into the compound, take down the rebels, and bring the hostages out.

Easy, reflected Alex. On paper, at least.

But they hadn’t mentioned that the