Page 75 of Beyond the Rules
“Stand by until further instructions,” the voice in myearsaid.
“Standing by.” I relayed out status to my team. “Drink,eat.”
It was hurry up and wait asusual.
I checked our location on my GPS and confirmed our coordinates to the satellite-linked intelligence operative monitoring the mission. I’m sure he didn’t mind waiting. His ass was parked stateside in some high-tech, air conditioned room in the maze of Marksman Global’s sprawling basement. Plus, he didn’t have to deal with militias crawling all over the hot zone. Or themosquitoes.
We, on the other hand, were stuck searching for a pair of hostages who hadn’t been at any of the three locations we’d scouted in the last five days, on the border of Sudan, in a bug infected swamp currently controlled by the Revolutionary Front, a rebel group fighting the Sudanese army. Nothing like being wedged between warring groups of violent thugs to get me in a shitty mood. Add to that faulty intelligence, the horse-flies gorging on our blood, and the leech I’d just ripped off my groin, and we had a winningclusterfuck.
If it wasn’t for the hostages, I would’ve called off the mission yesterday, after the last shit show to nowhere. But the two NGO employees who’d been abducted from the only feeding camp in the region weighed heavily on my mind. Folks who risked their lives to feed total strangers and starving kids figured high on my list of top priorityrescues.
I surveyed my team as they hunkered around me, all ex-special forces: two ex-Deltas, two British, one French, one Polish, and two locals. They were all solid, except maybe one guy, a rookie to Marksman Global, designated as one of my breachers. His finger tended to hesitate on the trigger. Hesitation could kill him, not to mention the rest of us. I had to keep my eyeonhim.
I checked with the men I’d posted outside to secure our perimeter. They were in place and alert. I stalked back to the hut, ripped open a protein bar and, downing it in two gulps, pulled out my cell and clicked it on. True to her word, Nina had been sending me daily messages. They were funny texts mostly, little tidbits about her day, updates of what was going on at home and pictures, lots ofpictures.
I’d always compartmentalized my work from my home life. I’d never received messages mid-mission before. But I had to admit, I looked forward to getting Nina’s as we stole through areas with reception. Her texts brought a lightness to the long, grueling days, a freshness to the suffocating heat. The cell beeped, announcing it had locked onto a signal. Nina’s WhatsApp messages began to pop up on my screen one after theother.
Drove with Aiden to the recycling center,she wrote.Missionaccomplished.
Good job, I replied.BravoZulu.
Tanner delivered the copper topped diningtable.
Run payment,I wrote unnecessarily, because since we’d assigned her to the task, Nina had been running Fire Forged’s receivables likeapro.
Ryan called on his grandmother’s cell, Nina wrote. He shouted “cell” three times. I think Ryan wants you to buy himacell.
I typed as fast as I could.I’m not getting my five year old a cell and that’sfinal.
Eating your best elk sausages.She attacheda picture of her, Tanner and Aiden clinking their beer bottles together and making funny faces, with the captionMissyou.
The smile on her face reached out and pinched through the callus of my fucked-upheart.
I ordered a dress for the wedding, the next message said. “Likeit?”
Another picture was attached, a really lewd one, a porn queen, baring a pair of jumbo-sized breasts, wearing only a short grass skirt that managed to covernothing.
“Wow,” Ex-Delta Forces number one leaned over my shoulder. “Is that yourgirlfriend?”
I shoved him away. “Mind your fucking business,Foreman.”
“Zar’s got a girlfriend?” ex-Delta Forces number twoleered.
“She’s got some damn big jugs,” Foreman’s crooked teeth flashed, bright white against the black and green paint on his face. “Don’t be selfish, Zar. Give usalook.”
“Back off.” I half snarled. “The girl in the pic isn’t mygirlfriend.”
“That’s a goddamn shame,” Foreman said. “With jugslikethat…”
I ignored the two snickering fools and returned my attention to the cell, where the screen lit up with a brand new message from Nina, thisonelive.
Are youthere?
I made a quick calculation. It had to be like three in the morning back in Montana. But Ninawasup.
Standing by, I wrote.Ready tomoveout.
Thinkingofyou.