Nanny for the Army Rangers by Krista Wolf

 

Forty-Five

 

 

LIAM

I stared at the drone footage for the fifth time, straining to see the same thing Duncan and Julius had. The maps of the area matched perfectly. It was the right province, the right village.

“See him?”

The line of people was blurred, almost beyond recognition. I could barely make out individuals, much less faces. But there was one thing I was definitely sure of, watching them shamble forward in a relatively straight line:

They were definitely being led.

“That’s our guy right there,” said Julius, freezing the video with a quick tap of the laptop’s spacebar. “It’s gotta be him.”

I shook my head slowly, still unable to agree. Or disagree, for that matter.

“What’s Wraith saying?”

“They’re convinced. They’re ready to send everything.”

Duncan whistled low. “Everything?”

Julius turned away from the laptop to look back at us stoically. “You have no idea how important this client is.”

So far the intel we’d gotten back had been sparse, but even sparse was absolutely fantastic for an area as remote as this. We were looking down into what amounted to ninety-percent jungle. The tree canopy was so thick your eyes began playing tricks with every new clump of pixels.

“We brought Archon in two days ago,” said Julius. “They’re sending a team of six, led by Max.”

My eyes went wide. “Max is going?”

“Yes.”

“Holy shit.”

Archon was one of the newer groups who’d joined the Shop, but they were also the hungriest. Their members were young, ambitious. What they lacked in field experience they more than made up for in terms of cutting-edge firepower and large, boulder-sized balls.

Still, an outfit like that could get reckless. And when that happened, things could go from bad to worse real fast.

“Seems like overkill,” I said, and I meant it. “Too many cooks. Not enough broth.”

“I disagree,” said Duncan.

I glanced back at him in surprise. Duncan usually liked things small, surgical, neat. I figured he’d back me up on this.

“It’s a whole jungle out there,” Duncan went on. “You don’t find the needle in a haystack with only a few people poking at it.”

“What then?” I demanded. “Do you burn the whole thing down? Sift through the ashes with a magnet? You’ll find the needle, sure. But you won’t be happy with what it looks like.” I rubbed the back of my aching neck. “And neither will the client.”

The guys stayed silent for a moment. With the twins already sleeping, the house seemed unusually still without Delilah in it.

“If I told you the sheer amount of resources at our disposal right now,” said Julius, “you’d shit right down your leg. But I don’t have the time.” He pointed at the fuzzy object on the laptop’s screen. “He doesn’t have time, either.”

Julius closed the computer and stood up. I knew what was coming next. I knew it the moment I saw what boots he had on.

“I’m going.”

I couldn’t stop him — not even if I wanted to. Once Julius decided upon something like this, the wheels were already irrevocably in motion.

Duncan and I glanced at each other wordlessly. A wealth of information passed between us, and we nodded curtly.

“We’re coming too,” I said. “In fact—”

“No,” Julius said sharply.

He spun on his heel, then pulled a duffel out from under the table. Fuck! He’d already packed! I couldn’t believe I hadn’t seen it already.

“Julius,” Duncan began, “you can’t just—”

“I’ve negotiated a single slot on Archon’s team, at least until they can get us to our own men. As we speak they’ve got a jet fueled up on the Echo ramp at Calabro. It leaves the moment I get there.”

I scowled. “And just how are you getting there?”

Julius glanced at his watch. “There’s a Sikorsky landing about a half-mile from here in seven minutes.”

“They’re sending a chopper just for you?” I breathed.

“No, but the client is,” he said, tossing his bag up on the table. He undid one of the big black zippers. “Again, you’re underestimating how important this target is. No expenses spared.”

He pulled out a large satellite phone — newer than any digital model I’d ever seen before — and thrust it into Duncan’s hand.

“Frequency’s already set. Sit tight and wait on word from me.”

“You want us to just sit here?” Duncan snapped.

“Yes.”

“Take one of us with you,” I jumped in. “And once Delilah’s back, the other can—”

“It’s only one slot,” said Julius, “one seat. And you wouldn’t believe the hoops I had to jump through to get it.”

He zipped the duffel bag closed again, and his expression softened. “Look, I know you want in,” he said. “But for right now at least? It’s better this way. The two of you need to be here for Jace and Courtney. And someone needs to look over the Shop.”

I stared down at the satellite phone in Duncan’s hand, wondering where it had come from. What kind of people we were dealing with.

“I’ve got a good mind to knock you out with this thing,” said Duncan, hefting the phone a few times. “And take your seat on that jet.”

“You wouldn’t even get close,” Julius said evenly. “I’d snap your arm clean off, in the middle of your backswing.”

Duncan looked entirely unfazed. “Wanna try?” he snarled. “Let’s try.”

I stepped between them before it came to blows, because it would come to blows if I allowed it to go on. Luckily, there just wasn’t enough time for this kind of pissing contest.

“Besides,” Julius added, throwing the bag over his shoulder. “You don’t even know where the chopper’s landing.”

He threw his arms through the loops on his duffel and headed toward the door. As heavy as it looked, I had no doubt he’d make the Sikorsky with a few minutes to spare.

“Fine,” Duncan called out. “Go. But hey, if you’re really gonna do this?”

Our friend halted in the doorway for a moment, then eventually craned his neck to look back. “Yeah?”

“Don’t screw it up.”