Chapter Nine

The instant we walked into General Master’s office, I knew there was a problem. Both Generals were stone-faced and staring at two Arabic men in business suits. Most businessmen in the Middle East wore flowing white robes. What kind of scam were they running? They turned to face me and within two seconds my guns were pointed at them. “You so much as twitch and I’ll blow your fucking heads off.”

“Put your guns away,” General Grandville snapped. “They’re with the CIA and are here to arrest Private Reynolds.”

Stone stepped into view. He had his gun pointed at the businessmen too. “What’s the charge?”

“Treason,” General Masters answered.

I laughed. “They are not CIA. The one with the nasty scar on his face is Rafi Muhammed. He’s on the Saudi’s terrorists watch list and he’s Eric Roberts hired muscle. The pretty one is Mustafa Jaziri, and he’s wanted for twelve counts of murder in Turkey. The warrant is fake. If you don’t believe me, call CIA headquarters in Langley and verify it.”

His teeth bared in a snarl; Muhammed hurled a knife at me.

Diving to one side, I fired.

Bang. Bang. Bang. Bang. Bang. Bang. Bang. Bang.

I shot to my feet and stared at Muhammed’s and Jazin’s bullet riddled bodies. Holy shit!

My squad holstered their guns.

“Are you hurt?” Stone asked.

I pulled the knife out of the wall. “Nope, missed me by a good inch.”

Rodriquez snickered.

General Grandville scowled. “Did you have to kill both of them?”

“Yes, sir, we did,” Stone said, not an ounce of remorse in his tone. “Roberts and his goons have tried to kill Reynolds five times now.”

My eyebrows rose in surprise. They were keeping count. It was nice having someone watching my six.

Tex pointed at the ink pen in Muhammed’s shirt pocket. “Booby-trapped?”

I took a closer look. “It is. That pen is normally used for suicide attacks. We need to evacuate the building. Now!”

“Suicide attacks? Evacuate? What are you talking about?” General Masters demanded.

Fighting down the urge to run for my life, I explained, “When triggered, the pen spews anthrax into the air. Anyone who inhales the toxin is dead within thirty seconds and one of the bullets might have damaged it.”

“Everyone out!” General Masters bellowed.

We all hurried out of the building and took refuge next to a sandbag covered concrete bunker.

General Masters pulled out his sat phone. “Send a disposal squad to my office to contain an explosive device loaded with anthrax.”

I frowned and sniffed the air. Damn. Was that bay rum?

“What’s wrong?” Stone asked.

“Do you smell bay rum?”

Everyone began sniffing.

“It’s stronger over here,” Tex said, giving a fine impression of a K9 hunting down his prey. He came to an abrupt halt. “Bomb!”

My gaze froze on the timer. There were only nine minutes left before it blew. “Running might be good.”

“That fucking bastard!” Sergeant Stone knelt and examined the bomb. “The bomb has two complex motion sensors, if I attempt to move it, it’ll blow.”

“Roberts meant for the bomb to spread the anthrax,” Johson growled.

“Here comes my bomb disposal guys. They’re the best,” General Masters said.

A flash of light caught my attention on the ridge above us. I casually walked over to the bunker, propped Bertha up on a sandbag and scanned the area. “Sonovabitch.”

“Who is it?” Stone wanted to know.

“Roberts and some of his goons. He also has a grenade launcher. He really doesn’t want anyone to know what’s on the microdot.”

“It’s too late for that. The Pentagon and his bosses at the CIA have a copy.” Stone motioned to his men. “Roberts is a dead man walking.”

The guys trotted over to us wearing their cold-eyed killers’ expressions.

“Roberts is on the ridge above us, and he’s got a grenade launcher. Tex let the generals know and get everyone inside the bunker. It has an air filtration system.”

“Yes, sir.” Tex strolled over to the generals.

“Rodriquez and Johnson, I want you to get behind him and let me know how many grenades he has,” Stone said.

“Yes, sir.” They moved off.

Stone pulled his Steiner M750rc binoculars from his backpack. “Let get his attention.”

“Permission to terminate?” Please say yes.

General Grandville bellowed, “Absolutely not. The CIA wants him alive. Take out the militant holding the grenade launcher.”

“Yes, sir.” I sighted in on an Arabic male wearing a camouflage uniform.

“26 inches square to the right of the rock,” Sergeant Stone advised.

“Copy.” I adjusted the scope. “Range?”

“1,522 yards dial 9.75 MOA,” Stone replied.

“Copy.” I tweaked the scope. “Wind?”

“Dial in left 2 MOA.”

I put the crosshairs on the militant’s head as he raised the grenades launcher. “Ready to fire.”

Stone’s sat phone beeped. “Shit! They have a crate of grenades.”

“Take him out,” General Masters ordered.

I fired.

As the militant fell backward, the grenade launcher fired. The rocket propelled grenade shot straight up and blew. The concussion knocked Roberts on his butt. Flaming debris rained down on him, setting his hair on fire.

I grinned. “The idiot was using one of those crappy Russian AGS-17 launchers.”

Boom! Boom! Boom! Kaboom! The ground shook beneath our feet as the crate of grenades blew.

Fragmented remnants of the grenades fell from the sky, starting small fires.

“Do you think he’s dead?”

Stone hit a button on his sat phone. A few seconds later, he barked, “Update. Gotcha. We’re coming.” His mouth a hard line, he advised, “Roberts is still alive, and he is high tailing it toward a helicopter. Stay on my six.”

“Yes, sir.” With his longer legs, Stone quickly pulled ahead of me.

Gunfire erupted ahead of us.

Stone dropped to the sand and opened fire.

I crawled up beside him and raised Berta. Bodies littered the sand. Roberts jumped in an old Huey. As the chopper rose into the air, the tail gunner turned the M60 machine gun on Rodriquez and Johnson.

They hit the dirt.

Oh, hell no. I sighted in on the gunner and squeezed the trigger.

The tail gunner tumbled from the Huey and swung wildly from his safety harness.

I targeted the helicopter again, but it was out of range. “Damn.”

“We’ll find him, Tess, you have my word on that,” Stone said somberly.

I shook my head. “He’s hurt. He’ll go to ground for now.”

“Fuck!” Stone jumped to his feet and ran to where Rodriquez and Johnson lay unmoving on the ground.

I sprinted after him. Please don’t let them die. Please. I really liked them.

Stone pulled his medical kit out. “Check Rodriquez.” He pressed a gauze pad to Johnson’s head wound.

“It’s just a flesh wound,” Johnson mumbled.

I knelt beside Rodriquez and quickly checked his shoulder wound. “Through and through on his left shoulder.”

Rodriquez blinked and tried to sit up.

“Whoa!” I planted a hand on his chest. “Hold still. You’ve been shot.”

“I’ve been shot before.”

“I’m sure you have, but I need to stop the bleeding,” I retorted.

Stone tossed me some gauze pads, and bandages.

Tex ran up, took in the situation and pulled out his medical kit. “I’ve got him. Check the sergeant.”

“What?” That’s when I noticed the blood running down Stone’s right arm. “Sit!” I pointed to the ground.

“Bossy little thing, aren’t you?”

“Sit.”

He sat.

Using my knife, I cut his sleeve and examined his wound. “The bullet’s still in there.”

“Fuck,” Stone gritted.

As I bandaged his wound, two armored Humvees pulled up and General Masters and a dozen Marines got out.

Gee, I wondered where General Grandville went?

General Masters surveyed the scene and turned to the lieutenant standing beside him. “Get the medics up here, Smith.

“Yes, sir.” He grabbed his radio mic.

“Sergeant Harold, I want you and your men to search the area for any more surprises,” General Masters ordered.

The Sergeant saluted sharply. “Yes, sir.”

“And take Private Reynolds with you. She’s a dead shot and knows what these bombs look like.”

Sergeant Harold’s gaze surveyed me from head-to-toe. “She’s Army, sir.”

“Not any longer, General Grandville signed her over to me.”

My jaw dropped. What? Was that even legal?

Two ambulances pulled up.

Sergeant Stone stood up. “Private Reynolds is still recovering from her injuries, sir.”

“Sergeant Harold will take good care of her. Now get your ass in the ambulance,” General Masters replied.

Stone shot me a worried look. “Yes, sir.”

“With me Reynolds,” Sergeant Harold ordered.

“Yes, sir.” Two hours later, our search had turned up nothing. As I trudged over the sand, I wiped the sweat out of my eyes. It had to be 130 degrees today.

Sergeant Harold handed me a bottle of water. “Don’t pass out on me.”

“Yes, sir.” I drank the water down in thirty seconds flat.

“When were you injured?”

“Two days ago, sir.”

“What type of injuries?”

“Gunshot wound to my side. I was a little too close to an IED when it went off and needed stitches in my arm. I’m also suffering from dehydration and starvation.”

Sergent Harold’s eyes widened. “Starvation? Were you a prisoner of the militants?”

“No, sir. A rogue CIA agent was responsible.”

He handed me another bottle of water. “Drink up.”

“Thank you, sir.” My stomach growled loud enough to wake the dead. Ignoring my empty belly, I drank more water and choked. All the Marines were staring at me.

Sergeant Harold grinned. “Let’s get you fed.”

“Thank you, sir.”

The Marines piled in the Humvees.

I peered inside. There was nowhere for me to sit. Guess I was walking. I started down the hill.

“Where are you going, Reynolds?” Sergeant Harold hollered.

“There’s no room for me. I can walk. It’s not that far.”

“Like hell. The base was just attacked.” Sergeant Harold glanced inside the last Humvee. “Whitson move your ass over.”

“She’s Army sir and she smells all minty.”

I rolled my eyes. “It keeps the cooties away.”

“Reynolds is one of ours now. Am I clear?” Sergeant Harold demanded.

“Yes, sir.”

Sergeant Harold motioned to me. “Get in.”

“Yes, sir.” I climbed in and perched on the edge of the seat. Whitson was an enormous black man. I gave him my Debbie Sunshine smile when my stomach rumbled loudly. “I’m so hungry I bet I can out eat you.”

Whitson laughed. “Twenty says you can’t.”

“Deal.” I held out my hand.

Whitson shook it. “Easy money.”

The Humvees pulled to a stop by the mess hall, and everyone got out.

I chewed on my lower lip. Without the proper credentials, I wouldn’t be able to eat. I needed to find Stone and the guys.

“Reynolds, get your ass over here,” Sergeant Harold yelled.

I walked over to him. “I don’t have a basic allowance card, sir.”

“Don’t worry about. Get in line. I’m paying.”

“Thank you, sir.” The smell was heavenly. I wiped the drool off my chin. So much food, so little time. It wouldn’t be long before Stone sent one of the guys to look for me. Grabbing a plate, I filled it with fried chicken, mashed potatoes, gravy and biscuits. I took a seat next to Whitson.

“That’s a lot of food for a little girl.”

A hand plucked my plate off the table. “Yes, it is,” Tex said.

“But I need to gain some weight.”

“Not like this.” Tex placed a plate in front of me that was filled with vegetables and grilled fish.

“Aw, c’mon.”

“You can have chocolate cake for dessert.” Tex replaced my bottle of beer with water.

“Fine.”

Tex sat down next to me and ate my fried chicken, mashed potatoes, gravy, and biscuits.

The bastard was also drinking my beer. I took a bite of the fish. Hmm, pretty good. “How are the guys doing?”

“Good.”

“That’s it?”

“We have a meeting with General Masters in two hours. Eat up.”

Boy, did I have a lot of questions to ask. “Okay.” I ate everything on my plate and realized I was sandwiched between the two men. “Can you scoot over a bit, Tex. I want to get my cake.”

He shifted his body.

I gave him the stink eye. “I might be skinny, but I’m not that skinny.”

He moved another inch.

“Seriously, dude.” I managed to squeeze out with my empty plate. I got back in line and eyed all the cakes. Hmm. Which one did I want? German Chocolate or Devil’s food or Black Forrest or pineapple upside-down cake? I got all of them and piled the plates on a tray.

Tex’s eyebrows shot up.

I gave him the stink eye. There was no way in hell, he was stealing my cakes. I sat down at an empty table and started eating.

Whitson and Tex moved to my table.

“You touch my cakes, and I’ll stab you with my fork,” I warned.

Whitson roared with laughter. “I believe her.”

Tex nodded. “She’s not as cute and cuddly as she looks.”

“The apple pie is my favorite,” Whitson said.

“I’ll try it next.” Relief flooded me when Stone, Rodriquez and Johnson walked in. Nah, it was more of a badass strut. They loaded up their plates and joined our table.

Whitson nodded at Stone. “What’s a woman doing on a Force Recon team?”

Hmm. I was a bit curious about that too. I kept eating.

“She’s my sniper,” Stone answered.

Whitson’s eyebrows shot up. “Sniper?”

“Her call sign is Scorpion,” Stone replied.

I assumed my father’s predatory expression. “When it’s that time of the month, you really don’t want to piss me off.”

Heads swiveled in my direction.

“Just kidding,” I called.

Stone shook his head. “No, she’s not. Reynolds has a mean streak.”

“Yeah. She likes shooting men in the balls,” Rodriquez added.

I bit my lip to keep from laughing when every man in the mess hall cupped their genitals.

Whitson guffawed loudly. “I like you.”

“I can’t tell you how happy that makes me,” I replied.

Stone glowered. “Manners.”

“Yes, sir.” I ate my cakes and was contemplating getting more or maybe a piece of apple pie.

Tex shook his head. “No.”

“But…”

Stone interjected, “You can’t fly if you’re puking up your dinner.”

He had a point.

“You can fly?” Whitson inquired.

“Yep.”

Stone stood up. “Let’s go. We need to get cleaned up before the meeting with Masters.”

Like little ducklings, we followed him out of the mess hall.

“Under no circumstances, are you to leave the barracks without us,” Stone commanded as we entered our assigned room.

“Yes, sir.”

A gleam of amusement in his eyes, Stone said, “I need you to watch our six while we clean up.”

“I’ll stand guard in the hallway, sir.” Ogling all that fine male flesh would lead to touching and other stuff.

Johnson rolled his pelvis. “We’re not shy.”

“You’ve seen us naked before, Chiquita.” Rodriquez said.

“I have, and if something came up, I’d hate to get all flustered and shoot it.” I stroked the butt of my gun.

They stared at me for a moment.

I smiled. “And we wouldn’t want that, would we?”

“No, ma’am.”

Grinning like a loon, Tex grabbed his pack and headed for the men’s room. “She’s got your number.”

“That she does,” Johnson said and picked up his backpack. “No hard feelings?”

I smiled. “No hard feelings.”

“It would be like doing my sister,” Rodriquez said with a shudder and followed Johnson out.

I knew I wasn’t sexy but sister. Seriously?

Stone leaned down and whispered in my ear. “You’re not my sister.”

The carnal hunger in his gaze had me backing away.

“Don’t worry, Tinkerbell, I’m a patient man.” Stone walked into the men’s room.

I fanned myself. Lordy, could Stone turn on the sex appeal. I just wished he meant it.

A door opened.

I pulled my guns.

General Masters walked into the barracks. I holstered my weapons and banged on the door. “The general is here.”

“Stall him,” Stone ordered.

“Yes, sir.” One look at the fury burning in the general’s eyes and I saluted him smartly.

“At ease,” he barked.

I crossed my arms behind me. “The men are cleaning up, sir, and will be right out.”

“About fucking time.”

Holy hell! He was beyond pissed and I bet General Grandville had something to do with it.

The men’s room door opened, and the guys hurried out and saluted Masters.

I choked back a laugh. Half of Stone’s face had a beard, the other half didn’t.”

“We have a traitor in our midst,” General Masters stated.

Oh, God, what had Roberts done now?

“Relax Reynolds, it’s not you.”

A sigh of relief escaped me. “General Grandville, sir?”

“Yes. Did you ever wonder how you were transferred to the Middle East so quickly?”

“General Grandville made a deal with my father.”

“Not quite.” General Masters ran a hand over his face. “Roberts was blackmailing General Grandville. It seems Grandville likes little girls.”

Shit! “I didn’t know that sir.”

“It was a well-guarded secret. Roberts knew your father has records of his illegal dealings.”

“And if he had control of me, he thought he would have control of my father,” I finished.

“Exactly.”

Sadness welled up in me. “I’m a useful tool to my father. Nothing more.”

“Roberts wants you and your father dead. I’ve just learned he has put a million-dollar bounty on each of you. Every terrorist and mercenary in the Middle East are looking for you.”

Horror knotted my stomach. Holy hell! I needed to find a place to hide, but where?

“The CIA has teams hunting for Roberts, but until he is captured, he’s not going to stop trying to kill you. Wherever you go, Private Reynolds, chaos follows. Two bases have been damaged and one helicopter destroyed.” General Masters’s gaze settled on Stone. “I’ve approved your plan.”

Sergeant Stone smiled. “Thank you, sir. You won’t regret it.”

“I have a chopper standing by. Good luck.” General Masters saluted us and walked out.

Rodriquez interjected, “What plan?”

“Pack up your gear, we’re going on a road trip,” Stone replied.

A big smile formed on Johnson’s face. “Bulldogging?”

“With a little jump chump thrown in,” Stone answered.

Color me confused. They were acting like kids promised a trip to Disneyland.

“Move it, Reynolds.”

“Yes, sir.”