The Night Ranger

bordered figure marched toward the site of the explosion.

“Checking out what we did to his trucks,” Tomaso said. “Want me to go with him?”

“Yes.”

Tomaso pulled up a menu. “I’m dialing down the therms so they don’t fry the screen when we go back over there. There’s an autofilter that comes on when you play Whac-A-Mole with the Hellfires or the GBUs, but I took it off when we went to the center of camp.”

“You don’t have to explain.”

“Nah, man, I like it, it’s thinking out loud. Plus I’ve found that above a certain age, this isn’t that intuitive for people.”

“What age would that be? Eleven?”

“No offense. It’s easier if you’ve grown up with video games.”

“None taken, Augustine.”

Tomaso raised an eyebrow: You’re old enough to be my grandpa and you’re making fun of my name? Classy.

The Reaper’s cameras turned far faster than the aircraft, so the drone flew away from the men on its screens for nearly a minute. The change in perspective made Shafer vaguely seasick. Tomaso didn’t seem to mind, or even to notice. Shafer had never felt so obsolete. Those old Mustangs were great. Pretty as anything. But they’d hardly get off the line today.

“Okay, now they’ve met this third guy—”

—

Shafer’s phone rang. Wells. Who wasn’t showroom clean but still had a few years of useful life. Shafer hoped.

“You hit the trucks.”

“Blew out three technicals.”

“How did they react?”

“They didn’t exactly muster into squads and secure the perimeter. Lot of confusion. You’re still on the southwest side.”

“Correct.”

“The sentry—”

“Took care of him. You looking at me?”

“No. Watching guys on the hill above the trucks. We think one’s Wizard, but we can’t be sure. If they come your way, we’ll pick you up again. Give me your coordinates so we know exactly where you are.”

Wells did. “Don’t confuse me with the sentry. He’s maybe eighty meters closer to camp.”

“He’s still alive?”

“Didn’t say he was dead. Said I took care of him.”

“Like a massage, you mean.”

“Any read on where they’re keeping the hostages?”

“Not yet.”

“Tell me exactly what happened after the bomb hit.”

It was then that Shafer recounted the meeting, and Wells told Shafer his plan: Wizard should be ready to deal . . . and if not I’ll take him out.

Shafer wasn’t so sure Wizard would give up the hostages, but they’d long passed the point of no return, so he didn’t argue.

“What now?” Tomaso said when Shafer hung up.

“Keep tracking the commander.”

“Right. Got good news on the weather too, bro. Rain’s passing within the hour. We’ll have better visuals even before the sun comes up.”

“Bro.”

“Sign of respect.”

The three shapes walked away from the fire, toward Wells. The Reaper followed and along the way made a pass over camp. “Can’t be sure, but I’m guessing the hostages are in those western huts,” Tomaso said. “Lot of activity over there.”

Close to Wells. Maybe a lucky break. If he could take out Wizard clean and quick . . . and the Reaper’s Hellfires killed the guys in the open and Wizard’s lieutenants were among them . . . and Wells reached camp and found the hostages before someone put a magazine in them . . . and they escaped and the remaining White Men didn’t want to risk the Reaper and decided to let them go . . . Four big ifs. Each might have a fifty-fifty shot of breaking for Wells, which meant the overall odds of a rescue were one in sixteen. Not even ten percent.

But then, Wells didn’t like to play if the game was easy. He didn’t want to win by twenty. He preferred the ball at his own five, down six, two minutes to go. He put himself in these situations intentionally. Though he would never own up to that truth. He was a thrill-seeking killer, a father who’d abandoned his wife and infant son, an operative who lied with ease to further his mission. He was also the bravest man Shafer had ever met. He never blamed anyone for the decisions he’d been forced to make, or asked for relief from the memories he carried. He judged himself, and his verdicts were as harsh as any the world could offer.

John Wells was awfully simple and awfully complicated.

—

Now Shafer saw him, or a dull reddish blotch that represented him, on the thermal screen. The three Somalis had arrived near the sentry. They all burned a brighter red than Wells.

“Why’s he look so washed out?”

“Likely he’s covered in mud. Dulls the heat signature.” Tomaso clicked on Wells and a blue border appeared around his figure. Blue for friendly.

The Somali commander went to the sentry. A minute later the sentry stood and walked back to camp, leaving the commander and the two soldiers alone on the hill. For several minutes Wells stayed in place, downslope from the Somalis. Shafer wondered if they were yelling to one another. Or maybe Wells was waiting in silence, gauging the moment to attack.

Then a surprise. Wells stood and walked directly to the commander as the man stepped down the hill to him.

“What’s he doing?” Tomaso said.

Shafer wondered, too. Without audio, he couldn’t guess. No way the Somali could have seen Wells. He hadn’t needed to surrender. Maybe he’d traded his own life for the hostages. Maybe Wizard had tricked him, though Shafer couldn’t see how.

Wells walked toward camp, the Somalis around him. Tomaso kept the cameras on him until he entered a hut beside Wizard. “What now? Want me to look for the hostages?”

“Let’s stay on the hut.”

—

Then, disaster.

In the form of Vincent Duto, DCI. He laid his thick hand on Shafer’s scrawny shoulder as Shafer stared at the screen. Shafer didn’t flinch. He pinched the skin of Duto’s hand until Duto released his grip.

Duto was wearing a gray suit that accentuated his shoulders and a shirt whiter than any piece of clothing Shafer had owned in his life. He looked like a politician. A winning one. “Vinny. Meet Augustine. One of your landsmen.”

“What’d I miss?”

“We hit the technicals. Now Wells is in camp.”

“He snuck in.”

“He walked in with three Somalis.”

“Captured.”

“Didn’t look that way,” Tomaso said. “Looked like he came in under his own power.”

“Come,” Duto said to Shafer.

“It hurts me when you talk to me that way. Like I’m a dog.”

Tomaso snorted.