Bad News Travels

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Not many people could say that a chicken had saved their life.

But Jon Lancaster could. It had happened in the Republic of Mali, in West Africa. The region had been infiltrated by an Al Qaeda franchise called AQIM, which funded its terrorist activities by kidnapping foreign ambassadors and oil executives, and holding them for huge ransoms. It was nice work if you could get it, and AQIM had become one of the richest terrorist cells in the world.

Lancaster’s SEAL unit had been sent to Mali to rescue an oil executive named Duncan Farmer. Farmer and his wife had been hosting a dinner party in their home when an AQIM team burst in, executed several guests, and spirited Farmer away. The next day, a ransom note was delivered to the local American embassy.

The SEAL unit’s marching orders had been simple. Rescue Farmer and bring him home, and give AQIM a taste of their own medicine.

Lancaster was the front man, his relatively short stature and potbelly allowing him to mingle easily with the natives. He’d been born with gastroschisis, a condition that gave him a big stomach. People thought he was fat, but it was an illusion. Dressed in flowing robes and his face darkened by charcoal, he shuffled down the dirt road leading into town without drawing suspicion.

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