Balil pulled the shifter into gear and pulled away from the pumps. “That is why we will lay low and wait for this to blow over.” He drove down the dusty street, his eyes constantly scanning for police or military vehicles. “My sister, she works a bakery. We can earn our keep there.”
Mamoon groaned and slumped back into his seat. “I am no baker. I run businesses. I do not bake bread.”
“You will do whatever is necessary for us to survive until either the truth comes out or people forget our names.” Balil tossed his cigarette butt out the window and glared at his former boss. “If you must bake bread, then you WILL bake bread.”
Mamoon nodded gently and laid his head against his shoulder, watching the world zoom by. “I would bake bread the rest of my life if it would bring back Tariq or Sameer.”
Balil rolled his eyes and wondered, not for the first time, if he would have to end his former boss to protect himself.
Baba Yaga International, Dallas, TX
BRIDGER HOPPED OUT of the panel truck as soon as the hangar doors shut. He marched to his Bronco and dropped the tailgate.
“Where are you going?” Steve asked.
Bridger tossed his go bag in the back of the truck and propped his rifle in the floor next to the driver seat. “I’m going home.” He slammed the passenger door and turned to face Steve. “While I still have one.”
Jay appeared beside Steve. “You should stick with us.” He clapped Steve on the shoulder and shot Bridger a grin. “Safety in numbers, brother. You know that.”
Bridger shook his head. “If they have my information, I can’t risk leading them to you guys. You didn’t sign on for that.”
“The fuck we didn’t.” Deric appeared behind Bridger and his face was stern. “We’re a team, asshole. If they target you, they target me. And if anybody targets me, I kill ‘em first.”
Jay nodded. “Eloquently put.”
Bobby pulled open the door of the Bronco. “I need to put as much space between you and me as I can. If I go back to my place, they’ll be looking for me there.” He shot Jay a grin. “I have a few surprises waiting for them.”
Gregg popped up behind Jay and Steve. “We have bigger surprises. Behold…the equalizer.”
Bridger’s eyes widened as he stared at the RPG Gregg hefted. “Where did you get that?”
Jim tossed a crate into the back of a Hummer. “Viktor has connections all over. If we want black market RPGs, he gets them.”
Jay nodded. “Where do you think we get half of our weapons?” He stepped away from Steve and reached for Bridger. “When I said that we had resources, I meant it.”
Bridger slowly closed the door of his Bronco. “I take it that you have more than just RPGs available.”
“You would be correct.” Gregg slid into his chair and rolled to his workstation. “We’re not just pretty faces here.”
Deric grinned at him. “Speak for yourself. I was hired for my looks.”
“What else do we have?” Bridger asked, his eyes focusing on the RPG on the table.
Jay motioned to the rear of the hangar. “You name it, we probably have it.”
“Or can get it,” Jim added. He stepped beside Bridger and turned him toward the rear of the hangar. He clicked a remote and a hidden door slid open. The rear wall had weapons mounted from floor to nearly the ceiling. “If it goes boom, we probably have one.”
Bridger felt himself smiling as he stepped toward the rear of the hangar. He shook his head, impressed. “I take it that whoever contracts you aren’t aware of your assets.”
Jay nodded. “Better for them if they don’t.” He hooked a thumb over his shoulder. “Remember the machine gun that Viktor stole? Yeah, that’s where we get most of our weapons.”
“Strip the dead of whatever they’re packing,” Gregg chimed in. “What the hell. They don’t need them where they’re going.”
Bridger beamed. “Something tells me that this shit storm just got a little less shittier.”
Wood County, TX
ALI BIN-HAMZA stared up the wooded driveway. “You are certain this is the place?”
The babyfaced man nodded. “Our best hackers and trackers found it through tax records.” He shuffled through a short stack of papers. “It’s in his mother’s name.”
“He lives with his mother?” bin-Hamza asked, his eyes squinting to peer through the dense foliage.
“No, Ali. She is long dead.”
Ali made a motion with his hand and his men split into three groups. Two went through the fence and into the woods to flank the property while the third group marched with him toward the front gate.
“If this Bridger is in there, he won’t be leaving without giving us al-Abadi.”
He marched to the front gate and watched as his men snapped the chain locking the drive with bolt cutters. The trio entered Bridger’s property with the babyfaced man following, his eyes scanning the edges of the drive.
“Ali, I think this may not be such a good idea.”
Ali bin-Hamza ignored him as they continued along the well-worn path.
“Our hackers have found little about this man but what they have found tells me that he is not one to be taken unaware.” He paused and stared into the darkening shadows. “He is a trained professional.”
“As are we,” Ali growled. He was just about to chastise the babyfaced man for the error of his ways when a muffled explosion sounded to their right. The men all froze in place and Ali heard the radio bark to life as men excitedly yelled in Arabic. He tapped the man to his right and pointed into the woods. “Go. Find out what has happened.”
The man disappeared into the woods; Ali yelled at his back, “Be careful!”
“Ali, I fear the entire grounds may be wired,” the babyfaced man stammered. “We were able to uncover that he has extensive military training.”
Ali turned and glared at his cohort. “I will not tell you again. We continue.” He grabbed the smaller man’s
