She huffed. “Um, thank you?”
“No.” He rolled his head to face her. “Thank you, Devlin.” He went back to gawking at the spot on the cliff. “I’ve had my fair share of intense firefights and frightening moments. And I’ve even almost come up on the losing end in a couple of hand-to-hand battles. But,” he shook a finger at the mountain, “that up there was the first time I actually thought I was going to die. So yeah...thank you, Jessica.”
“You’re welcome.” A second later, her eyebrows came together as she replayed in her mind the events that had just transpired. “We’ve only been working together on two separate occasions so far, right?”
He dipped his chin once. “That’s correct. Why do you ask?”
“Then answer me this...how is it I always end up in some sexually compromising position with you?”
He faced her, a scowl overtaking his features. “Sexually compromising position?”
“In Mexico...that tiny little raft we used to get across the river?”
“I remember it. What about—” he slowly nodded his head, “oh yeah,” while envisioning the scene she had referenced...
Staring at the night sky, going by feel, Devlin fed another magazine into the 45 ACP. Running the slide forward, she performed a partial sit-up, pressed her left ear against Randall’s manhood, and rested the Colt on the raft’s port side.
Feeling a tingling sensation in his private area, he glimpsed himself and continued pumping his arms. “I thought you were married.”
“Just shut up and keep paddling. I’ll take care of him.”
Delivering fast and powerful strokes, he let out a quick snigger. “Aye aye, Captain.”
“Oh yeah is right.” Devlin lifted an arm ninety degrees and pointed. “And up there, it looked like you had me in some sex swing.”
He sniggered.
She sat upright and undid the rope from her harness. “You do know I’m a married woman, right? I believe I’ve mentioned that once or twice.”
His laughter fading, “I believe you have, yes,” he rolled to his knees, sat on his haunches, and offered her a hand.
She took it.
Standing, he helped her get to her feet, and they went to work on removing their rappelling gear.
Randall flicked his eyes her way before focusing on his task again. “So,” he paused, “are you going to bring that up to your husband in your...after-action report shall we say?”
She glimpsed him. “Bring what up?”
“You know...the sex swing thing...and the incident on the raft.”
She chortled. “Are you crazy? I know I’ve told you Curt’s a good man, but even good men,” she dropped the descending contraption onto the ground, brought her sound-suppressed Heckler & Koch MP5 rifle in front of her body, and eyeballed Randall, “even good men have their limits on how much they can take.”
Randall tossed his rig onto hers, extended the collapsible stock on his own MP5 rifle, and checked the weapon’s status. “Glad to hear that. I’m already starting behind the eight-ball when it comes to him.”
“No. You’re not.” Letting the nine-millimeter submachine gun hang from its sling, she tucked loose strands of hair under her black ski hat.
He inserted a tiny communication device into his ear and turned on a wireless transmitter/receiver attached to his chest rig. “We’ll use comms from this point on.”
Devlin nodded and made ready her equipment.
He tapped his earbud. “Comms check. This is King. Do you read...” his words hung in the air while he cocked his head at her. “You don’t have a call sign of your own, do you?”
She shrugged. “I guess I don’t.”
“Anything come to mind you’d like to use?”
“Not that I can think of. How do you usually choose one?”
He squinted at her for a few moments before zeroing in on a jet-black lock of hair still poking out from under her cap. “How about Raven?”
She frowned.
He aimed a finger at her. “Your hair...it’s raven black.”
She smiled. “I like it. Raven it is.”
“But this means you can’t ever color your hair again.”
“It’s never been colored in the first place.” She activated the communication device on her vest. “This is all-natural.”
He lifted a corner of his mouth and turned away. “Raven, this is King. Do you copy?”
She glanced down. “Raven copies—over.”
He lowered his goggles into place. “Do you want point?”
She flipped down her NVGs and motioned toward him. “I’m giving control of this phase to you. You lead. I’ll follow.”
“You sure? We haven’t really ironed out the specific details of our roles yet.”
Peering through eyewear she had never worn before, Devlin glanced down at the MP5 in her grasp, the pistol attached to her right thigh, and her tactical clothing. “I’m not really in my element here, so I think it’s wise I let someone who is take point.”
He slowly nodded. “The hallmark of a good leader...letting those around him—or her—do the jobs their good at.” A beat. “Okay. Let’s move out.” Randall took off down the hill toward the private cabin, Devlin on his heels. Five paces later, he stopped.
She came to a halt on his four o’clock. “What is it? Do you see something?”
He turned her way. “It just struck me.”
“What’s that?”
“How do you know about sex swings, anyway?”
Devlin shut her eyes and sighed.
“Do you actually own one of th—”
“Just,” she gave him a light shove, “get going, will you?”
∞=∞=∞=∞=∞=∞=∞
.
Chapter 27
Back Door
1:07 A.M.
After creeping ten yards into the stand of trees north of the cabin, Randall took a knee, gave the area a slow, three-sixty scan, and raised his NVGs to see a kneeling Devlin on his right.
She moved her glasses out of the way to make eye contact with him. “Problems?”
He shook his head. “I’m not sure.” Spying the structure ahead, he kept his voice low. “I expected at least one sentry in the woods. Personally, I would have had two posted.” He paused. “Maybe Crane’s security detail is a little lax. In any case, keep a sharp eye out.”
She nodded.
“Stay three paces off my six and cover our three and six o’clock. I’ve got everything in front of us and to our left.”
“Copy that.”
He flipped his goggles back into place,