"We've got a visual on Apollo. I repeat, visual on Apollo. He appears to be asleep in the back bedroom, west side, clear shot." The hushed report came from the sniper positioned on the roof of the house bordering the terrorist nest.

"Roger that. Maintain visual." Faust's voice, in that same monotone murmur, echoed in Dean's earpiece.

"Visual on two tangos in the back bedroom, east side," the operative covering the side of the house whispered. "Andromeda One and Two. No movement."

"Andromeda Three, Four and Five in the kitchen. Visual on back door," came another whisper. "Awake but no movement."

From his position in the hedges separating the UFF nest from the neighboring home, Dean fixed his gaze on the front of the house. The light was on in the living room, and he saw someone lying on the sofa, a man watching television. The bluish light from the TV screen reflected off the glass of the large front window.

"Tango in the living room. Awake but no movement," Dean murmured. "That mak