“Shit.” Lisa stood and slid off her molle vest. She snapped her fingers at Laughlin. “Drop your gear. You’re with me.”
Diego’s eyes widened. “What are you doing?”
“You said electronics and contractors. He and I are the contractors.” She quickly made her way to the rear of the truck bed and pointed to the opposite side for Laughlin to sit. She glanced to Bridger, “If I can’t pull this off or it goes sideways…”
He nodded. “Then we’ll unfuck the situation.” He motioned to the others and they ducked behind the plastic crates, hiding in the shadows.
Laughlin no sooner sat across from her when the flap was unceremoniously pulled open. Lisa covered her eyes from the sun and squinted, smiling at the young soldier. “Are we here already? Are you Captain de la Cruz?” she asked in fluent Spanish.
The young soldier eyed her suspiciously then looked to Laughlin. He asked something in Spanish and Lisa laughed. “He’s too stupid to speak anything but English. He’s a foreign technician. He only fixes things.” She gave him her best smile and took a deep breath, slowly pushing her breasts forward as the young man considered what to do.
She watched as he stepped back and for a moment she feared that things were about to get loud and bloody. He reached for his radio and mumbled something, his eyes fixed on her chest. A moment later the flap fell back into place and the truck bounced forward again.
Laughlin sighed as his heart began to beat again. “Too stupid, eh?”
She raised a brow at him. “You really think you could have talked our way out of that?”
He stood and began to make his way forward. “Your tits is what saved us.”
“Be glad they did.” She reached for her molle vest and Diego caught her eye.
“That was a very dangerous thing to do.”
She scoffed as she buckled the vest into place and reattached the sling to her carbine. “Danger is what we do, Diego. Surely you haven’t forgotten.”
He fell back onto his seat and shook his head. “It has been too many years, señorita.” He glanced to Bridger and grinned. “What can I say? I went legit.”
“How much farther?” Bridger asked.
Diego glanced through the gap in the flap again and looked at the mountain ridge. “We are close.” He closed the flap and sat back. “They have federales set up about four or five kilometers from the villa in all directions. There are a lot of men surrounding the hacienda, though. Word is that he killed a local militia leader and contracted the other two to provide protection.”
DJ felt his blood run cold. “How many are we talking about?”
Diego shook his head as he shrugged. “I cannot be certain, but I would expect at least a hundred men. And that’s not counting the federales.”
Laughlin groaned. “Fucking great.”
Mauk scoffed. “Slippy has a surprise for them, dontcha, Slip?”
Gregg nodded, his head leaned back and his eyes closed. “I’m trying not to throw up, thank you.”
“You seasick, Slip?” DJ teased.
“It’s the heat, you prick.” He cracked an eye open and glared at DJ. “I’ll adjust.”
DJ grinned at him. “Come on, Slip. You haven’t gone soft have you?” He slapped at the man’s knee. “Surely you can go from ice and snow to a hunnerd degrees in the same day, can’t you?”
Bridger smiled to himself. “Mr. Four Seasons there would prefer an air conditioned suite at the Hilton.”
“As long as it has Wi-Fi,” Gregg deadpanned.
Laughlin leaned toward him. “You haven’t drunk any of the water since we’ve been here, have you?”
“Fuck off, Laughlin.” Gregg sat up and opened his eyes. “If you have to know, I’m sweatin’ the idea of having to interface forty drones at the same time.” He glanced at Bridger then to Mauk. “The only way this mission ends in success is if I can terminate the militia outside the house using drones and Lurch here as a sniper. That’s a pretty tall fucking order if you ask me.”
The truck took an unusually large bump then bounced hard. Diego broke into a toothy grin. “Aha! We’re almost there!”
Bridger caught himself before he bounced into the floor of the bed and glared at him. “A little warning would be nice.”
Diego grinned broader. “Be careful, amigo. Rough road ahead.”
Langley Virginia
“They’re planning a dawn attack,” Jameson said quietly as he hung up his phone. He glanced at his watch then gave Ingram a sad smile. “We can reconvene at the war room just prior, if you prefer.”
Ingram glanced at his own watch and groaned. “It’s not like I could sleep if I went home.”
Jameson stood and picked up his jacket. “Well, you don’t have to go home, but you can’t stay here.”
“I’ll use the hospitality room.” He stood and stretched. “How are you holding up?”
Jameson gave him a surprised look. “Remarkably. Why would you ask?”
He shrugged slightly. “It’s just that you’ve hired a Colombian drug cartel to wage war on another cartel, both of which are now based out of Mexico, using Mexican military assets, all to protect a future asset that you can’t even be certain will work for you when the time comes.” He smirked at the older man. “Did I miss anything?”
“You forgot the part where I offered the drug cartel US military weaponry in exchange for their part in this fiasco.”
“Ah, yes.” He nodded. “The whole ‘double cross that will likely get you killed’ aspect. I had forgotten to mention that.”
“We’ll see what happens.” Jameson pulled the door to his office shut. “I believe it’s your turn to buy.”
Ingram’s face twisted. “No, I got drinks last time.”
“Supper, Robert. I’m craving a rare steak.”
Ingram’s face fell as he entered the elevator. “Last time you bought it was lunch. I believe soup and salad…but now that it’s my turn you want a steak?”
“Porterhouse, I’m thinking.” He gave the younger man a slight smile. “Rare and bloody.”
Ingram
