Page 3 of Covert Mission
Truck, as usual, pushes more. “What’s up your ass, Scout?
The man lasers two ice blue eyes toward Truck. “Nothing. We’ve got a missing woman to find.”
We all know Scout is wound tight. But he does seem edgier than normal. Truck shakes his head, and Scout’s only response is to tap his device and bring up another screen.
“This is the closest known archeology site that MZ has frequented according to her father. It’s beyond the town, so we’ll be passing through town then hitting that locale first. The information about the last location is subject as you know. The client and his daughter do not appear to have a close relationship.”
“Copy that,” I say as a frown tightens my mouth. “I think her father seemed off when he was meeting with Marshall.”
Marshall—clever bastard that he is—recorded the Zoom call with the father. Team Falcon got to watch before we rolled out.
Truck leans against the Tundra’s fender and crosses his arms. “Didn’t sit well with me at all. I wouldn’t want that asshole being my old man.”
Justice makes a face as he folds his arms too, bracing his legs in a wide stance. “Ditto, gotta say, he gave me a strange vibe. But billionaires are like that. Definitely quirky as fuck.”
Evan punches Justice’s arm. “Like you’ve known some?”
“You don’t know me.” Justice punches him back as he laughs.
Scout is now glaring at them both.
“He was odd.” I draw the conversation back to the father as I look at the map that’s dotted with villages amongst massive swaths of densely forested mountains. “Our only concern right now is that Agile is being paid half-a-million to bring her home. Marshall’s looking into Daddy Dearest. We’re the boots on the ground.”
I motion to Scout. “Anything else?”
He brings up the picture of MZ. “Remember, our subject could have changed her hair. Gained or lost weight. She could be?—”
Truck cuts him off with an annoyed sound. “We got it, man. This isn’t our first rodeo.”
Scout exhales sharply and looks around one by one, assessing the guys. When he hits me with that narrowed gaze, I tip my chin. “Appreciate your Type A shit. But as you know we all cut our teeth the same way. Every one of us has kicked doors, hunted the worst of the worst, and brought home innocent victims. We all know the drill. I know you don’t know Evan and Truck all that well, but this team has got all the right players.”
Scout’s shoulders relax a hair. But his tone is still tight. “It’s an adjustment.”
I drop a hand on his shoulder and give the muscles a squeeze. “I know, you don’t have to tell me, brother. It’s hard to leave the teams behind. We all felt it when we got out. We’re still feeling it. But we’re gonna be good together, and we’re gonna bring that woman home. Not just her, we’re gonna be the best team Agile has. Mark my words. Now do you have any updates from headquarters?”
Scout’s eyes sharpen as his focus returns to the case. “Roger that. Everyone’s got this in their secure inboxes now, but I’ll give you the abbreviated version.”
Scout quickly masks his unease, but I know he’s going to need time to get his footing and bond with the guys. We all do. But soon we’ll be a well oiled machine.
I know that Marshall and I were right. Scout’s gonna be damned valuable. Truck, Justice, and Evan too. Ass kickers. Name takers. Trouble bringers.
A team like ours will save lives. Bring home the missing. And while we’re at it, working with Agile will pave the way for better retirements. Something none of us is ready to think about, but will be facing one day.
Scout snaps my attention back when he clears his throat. “These are the five other possible locations. Some are towns, some are remote archeological sites. This first town, Santa Rosa, is our starting point. From there we work all of these and see if we can connect the dots.”
When he’s done, I tap a knuckle on the tailgate. “Alright boys. Do what you have to do. We’ll roll out for Santa Rosa, population four-hundred, in ten minutes.”
The guys bug out to get their gear and to take a leak or whatever and I stay behind to thank Scout. As shift my backpack, a cluster of birds scatter from the trees, squawking, flapping their wings.
Awareness pricks at my skin. I spin around, checking the treeline. “That’s strange. What scared them?”
“Don’t know.” Scout scans the area, his own expression concerned.
Then my feet shift below me. I nearly tumble over as I step back. Damn, you’d think my water bottle was full of hundred-proof liquor.
Evan curses as his hands spread wide. “Fuck, did you feel that?”
I sway again and the Tundra starts bouncing up and down like it’s rolling down I-40 through Tennessee. What the hell is happening?