“Was that Stan?”
Bramble slowly turned his head to look at Steve McGuirk. “Shut up. I’m thinking.”
McGuirk smiled and asked, “Does that hurt?”
“Does what hurt?” Bramble asked.
“Thinking.”
Bramble was in no mood for McGuirk’s smartass attitude. He sprang from his chair and smashed the smaller man against the back of the driver’s carriage. “Did I somehow give you the impression that I was in the mood to listen to your bullshit today? Because I’m not.”
McGuirk was wiry and strong, but in such close quarters he was no match for Victor’s size. He wedged his right arm up under the bigger Bramble’s and pushed back just enough so he could breathe. “You need to lighten up, Victor.”
“I don’t think so. I think I’m done taking your shit. I think I’m going to tell Stan to cut your ass loose. What do you think of that? Or maybe I’ll just break your fucking neck right now.” Bramble felt something hard press against his back.
Todd Borneman, the third man in the van, held his silenced pistol against Bramble’s lower spine. “Take your hands off, Steve, or I’m going to lodge a hollow-tipped bullet in your spine, and you can spend the rest of your life wearing a diaper.”
Bramble slowly backed off, holding his hands up in the air. Borneman was former Delta, the kind of guy who measured his words very carefully. If he said he’d shoot him, Bramble wasn’t about to doubt him.
McGuirk sat up straight and said, “You’re a real prick, Victor. We’re on a fucking stakeout, for Christ’s sake. Take a joke.”
Bramble looked at McGuirk and then Borneman, who still had his gun out. “Sorry . . . I’m frustrated. Put that thing away,” he said to Borneman.
Borneman pointed the gun at the floor, but kept it out. “Who was that on the phone?”
Bramble considered lying but decided it would do little good. “It was Stan.”
“What did he want?”
“Nothing.”
McGuirk shook his head and said, “So you were pissed off about nothing. You’re so full of shit.”
Victor wished Borneman would put his gun away so he could slug the shit out of McGuirk. “He wants us to hang out here for another hour or two and then head back to the hotel and wait for orders.”
“And what could be so bad about that?” Borneman asked.
“This is our only lead. That little prick is going to show up eventually, and we need to be here. Not sitting on our asses back at the hotel.”
Borneman cocked his head an inch to the right and asked, “Why do you hate him so much?”
“Who . . . Rapp?”
“Who else would he be asking about, you mental midget?” McGuirk snapped. This time he was ready, sitting on the edge of his seat, ready to move if Victor came after him a second time.
Bramble stifled his anger and ignored McGuirk. Looking at Borneman he said, “It’s a long story. There’s a lot of stuff you two don’t know about. Stuff Stan hasn’t shared with you.”
“This wouldn’t have anything to do with him breaking your arm . . . would it?” Borneman hadn’t been there that day, but he’d heard the story. Victor was a real prick, especially to the new recruits. Hurley had come up with the idea to insert Victor among the recruits so he could gain their confidence and then trip them up. Supposedly Rapp had seen right through it, and when given the chance he removed Victor from the equation. As far as Borneman could see, Rapp had only done what everyone else had dreamed of doing.
“He should have been washed out because of that. Even Stan says so.”
“Did Stan say that before or after Rapp saved his life?” McGuirk asked.
“Don’t believe every rumor you hear. Stan was doing just fine on his own. If anything he saved Rapp’s life.”
“That’s bullshit,” Borneman said. “I was part of the extraction team. Stan was too fucked up to walk. Rapp saved his ass and all you two can do is bitch about him.”
“And I’m telling you,” Victor said, leaning forward, no longer caring that Borneman had a gun in his hand, “there’s a lot of shit you don’t know. I have orders to kill him if he so much as looks like he’s going to run.”
“And why haven’t we been given those orders?” McGuirk asked.
“Because you’re on the bottom of the totem pole.”
“Does Irene know about this order?” Borneman asked.
“How the fuck would I know? Stan doesn’t read me in on every aspect of every order.”
“This is going to be interesting.”
“What?”
“Kennedy’s on her way over.” Borneman checked his watch. “She’s due to land within the hour.”
Just the mention of her name soured Bramble’s already foul mood. That must be why Hurley was pulling the plug. If Bramble could only figure out a way to kill both Kennedy and Rapp. He was at the beginning of exploring that fantasy when the surveillance console began to beep. Bramble spun around in his chair, his heart already
