Page 28 of Her Mercenary
“Yes.”
“He’s undercover too?”
“Yes, for over a decade.”
Bear dipped his chin in approval. Despite the scarce details I’d provided him when calling in a favor by requesting his assistance in an “off-the-books” op, Bear trusted me, as I did him—with my life.
Josh Ellis, known as Bear, wasn’t only the kind of scrappy, ruthless guy you wanted on your side during a bar fight, but the kind who would give you the shirt off his back. Born and bred in the South, Bear had walked away from his family, his Texas mansion, and a hefty inheritance to join the Marines after 9/11. The forty-one-year-old Texas native was as good as gold in my book, and there was no one else I’d ask to help me on this mission.
“Good to see you, man.” Our gazes locked for a second with the respect and loyalty bred between brothers who had shed blood together in Afghanistan. “Now, get in.”
“My fucking pleasure.”
Bear lumbered around the Jeep and collapsed into the back, exhausted from a multi-day hike through the woods, which he’d deemed necessary to avoid being seen or tracked. In my message days earlier, I’d provided Bear with nothing but a short summary of what I needed from him, a date and time, and the GPS coordinates for the meeting place.
I knew he’d be there.
After taking a quick glance over my shoulder, I also slid into the back seat and made introductions.
“What’s with the face paint?” I asked Bear as Lucas lurched the Jeep back onto the trail.
“It’s not paint. It’s dirt and deer shit.”
“Jesus.” I screwed my face in disgust when the smell hit me. “You roll around in it, or what?”
“Rubbed it on my skin after I ran out of DEET a few miles back.” His eyes were wide with wonder. “I’ve never seen mosquitos this big in my life, man.”
“I’ve got a few more cans of bug spray in the back,” Lucas said, “and some netting.”
“I’ll take it all.” Bear unearthed a water bottle from his pack. After chugging half, he wiped his chin. “So, what’s the plan?”
I pulled a pack from the floorboard and tossed it to him. “We’re going to drop you off a mile from where we’re staying. You’ll hike northwest for three and a half klicks to a cliff with spotty views of the lodge. Set up shop there and wait for orders.”
“Want me to deploy a drone?”
“No,” Lucas said from the front. “Too risky. The men are too anxious. They’ll spot it.”
“Why so anxious?” Bear unzipped the pack I’d just tossed him and began sifting through the contents, which included one week’s worth of MREs, water and water purification tablets, bedding, clothing, SAT communication equipment, first aid kit, ammo, fire-starting kit, flashlights, bug spray, a fifth of Jack, and a box of condoms—a joke between us, and I’ll leave it at that.
He unzipped the side pocket and lifted the grenade buried inside. Grinning at me, he said, “A bulldozer?”
“Did you expect anything less?”
“Not from you, man.” Bear dipped his chin in thanks, then tucked the deadly explosive device safely back into the pocket. “So, what are the bastards anxious about?”
“One, Ardri here in the back seat.” Lucas gestured to me in the back.
“Ardri?” Bear asked, laughing.
“It means high king in Gaelic, a moniker your boy earned over the years.”
Bear looked at me. “You’ve become quite the big deal in the human-trafficking circle?”
Lucas nodded from the front seat. “Ardri is notorious. The men fear him just as much as they admire him. He has lots of money—pays big bucks for the women. And he always, always wears a suit.”
“Your mama must be so proud,” Bear said with a tsk-tsk.
Lucas glanced in the rearview mirror at us. “More than him, though, they’re nervous about meeting the leader of the Cussane Network.”