Law was hoping that McClellan, the SIGINT on the Red Smoke team, hadn’t been as much of a hardass.
“I’ve got something,” Roger’s eyes lit up as he fiddled with the receiver. “Look at this. I think they’re about eight clicks northwest over that hill.”
“Less thinking and more knowing,” Lawson growled.
“Sorry. I know they’re over there. I triangulated three signals. One was from tactical vehicles, not ours. Another I could hear, and it was definitely Mikey from Red Smoke; he’s one of the guys that I went to boot camp with. The third signal is coming from two kilometers to the southwest of the others. It wasn’t clear, but they said something about our Lieutenant Hunt. Something about him buying beer.”
“That has to be the Lieutenant of Red Smoke,” Clancy muttered. “Stork and Hunt had a bet on which team would come out on top.”
“Should I radio the others?” Roger asked.
Lawson thought his head would explode. “What part of radio silence do you not understand? Just for that, you’re the one who’s going to have to run—and I mean flat out run—your ass over to Pearson’s MRZR and tell him to get his ass over here. Then hitch a ride with him and gather Bashir. I want you all back here in fifteen minutes. If it’s sixteen minutes, your ass is grass. You got it?”
“Now, sir?”
“Jesus God, I’m not a sir.” It took everything he had to keep his voice down. “You’re now down to fourteen minutes. Get a move on and keep your butt down before Red Smoke tags your ass.”
He watched as Roger scrambled away. He was going to kill the runt if they lost this war game.
Jill pressed send on the third text that she’d sent to Law. One every day since Sunday. Monday was cookie and milk emojis. Tuesday was beer and limes. Wednesday was a hammock, and today was a smiley face. She really hoped that she was right about today being a day to smile and she would really get a chance to see him.
She had googled Marine Raider since she’d met him. His job was crazy scary. She hadn’t heard of them before, because it seemed like Navy SEALs sucked all the oxygen out of the room. But Marine Raiders were uber special forces along the same lines. Reading up on them, Jill got the impression that they thought they were all that and a bag of chips. It must have something to do with being a Marine.
Jill pushed her phone into the back pocket of her cut-off jeans.
“But Law doesn’t seem all that egotistical,” she told her giant purple alliums as she pulled the weeds from around their base. She patted down the upturned soil, then moved onto another patch in the flowerbed where more stubborn weeds had popped up.
“Law seems pretty nice. What do you think? It’s only been ten days.” she asked the pretty red zinnias. “Am I getting too excited too early, or are my instincts on track?”
She dug in at another pesky weed and yanked it out. She sat back on her heels and looked at the colorful bed of flowers.
“You know, considering how nicely I take care of y’all, the least you could do is answer me.”
She saw movement out of the corner of her eye and realized it was Mr. Applegate from next door. She prayed that because he was retired and had white hair, that his hearing was not what it should be.
“Hello, Jill,” he said as he walked across his lawn toward her. “How are you doing? I haven’t seen you in far too long. Edith and I were talking not so long ago about our grandson and how we really think we should introduce the two of you.”
Please, deliver me. What did I do to deserve this?
“I met Robin, remember? He was at Lorraine’s service.”
“Oh, that’s right, you did. Maybe we can arrange to have the two of you over to our place for dinner some time?”
Jill put her left hand behind her back and crossed her fingers. Whether it was for luck so that it was true, or to save herself from telling a fib, she did not know.
“Mr. Applegate, I’m seeing someone.”
“You are?” His eyes lit up. “That’s wonderful. Edith and I worry about you. Especially when we see you talking out loud to your flowers.”
It took everything she had not to groan out loud. Time to change the subject.
“So, will I see you and your lovely wife at the Labor Day festival at Founder’s Park?”
Mr. Applegate gave her a quizzical glance.
“You know, the one that the guy from the HOA was taking a headcount for?”
“Jill, I don’t know what you’re talking about. I haven’t seen anything on the community website, and nobody has stopped by telling Edith and me about something for Labor Day.”
Jill got up and brushed grass off the back of her shorts. “Were you home on Monday?”
“All day. I beat Edith at Wheel of Fortune and Jeopardy.”
“Didn’t a man come to your house and ask you how many from your house would go to the Labor Day celebration? He was from the homeowners association.”
“Jill, Edith, and I bought into this development thirty years ago. Nobody has ever come to our door and done a headcount. Maybe back in the day they would call us, but I’d have to ask her. Are you sure?”
“That is so weird. Maybe it’s because he knew that the property has changed hands?”
Mr. Applegate put his hand on her shoulder. “You need to call the guard at the gate. Something’s not right.
