“I feel under equipped for this meet,” I said under my breath as we closed the distance. “I should have brought a rocket launcher or three.”
“He’s probably overcompensating for a lack in some other area of his life,” Monty replied. “Or possibly he wasn’t hugged enough as a child.”
The man shifted to the side, blocking the entrance as we reached the trailer.
“You and the Brit can come in,” the man said, his voice gruff. “The dog stays out here.”
“The hound goes where I go,” I said. “We’re a package deal. Where’s Douglas? Who are you?”
“I’m the one letting you into the trailer, and the mutt stays outside,” Tall and Clueless said, letting his hand float over to a thigh holster as he gave me the once over. “Don’t even know why we need some washed-up senior citizen. You still know how to hold a gun, old man?”
“Senior citizen?” I said, glancing at Monty. “Did he just call me old?”
“It appears so,” Monty said, stepping to the side. “Children these days, no respect for their elders.”
I slid forward faster than Clueless could react, drawing Grim Whisper, and placing it gently under his chin. He didn’t have time to reach for any of the weapons in his mobile arsenal, and he froze in place.
“What’s the point of carrying all these weapons if you can’t use them when you need to?” I said close to his ear. “What’s your name?”
“Carlos,” he said flexing his jaw. “My name is Carlos.”
“What do you think, Carlito?” I said, pushing up ever so slightly into his chin with Grim Whisper and forcing his head back an inch. “Do I still know how to hold a gun?”
“You’re good,” Carlito managed.
“I’m not good, I’m the best,” I said. “If I’m here, it’s because your team couldn’t perform. Is that it, Carlito? You need all these guns because you can’t perform?”
Carlos turned a few shades of red as he kept his anger in check. Smart move, especially when the barrel of a gun was poised to redecorate your head into abstract art.
“Negative,” Carlos said when he regained some control. “I perform just fine. Maybe one day I’ll have the honor of showing you just how good I am.”
“I look forward to that day,” I said, holstering Grim Whisper. “Until that day, step aside and don’t call my purebred hound a mutt, or next time I’ll shoot first and let him chew on what’s left of you.”
Carlos nodded and stepped to the side, allowing Monty, Peaches, and me to enter the trailer. The trailer was a double-wide affair and felt like stepping into an upscale office. We were at one end of a short corridor.
On either side were doorways that led to small rooms. At the end of the corridor, I could see a larger opening that led to a situation room, complete with a small conference table, monitors, and assorted computer equipment.
Carlos stepped in behind us and closed the door, remaining where he was as we moved forward.
“In here, Strong,” I heard the rough voice of Douglas call out. “Carlos, go take a walk and get some air.”
I glanced back and saw Carlos glare at me.
“Yes, sir,” Carlos said, opening the door and stepping out. “Needed to do a perimeter check anyway.”
“Who says you don’t know how to make friends?” Monty said, as the door slammed shut behind us. “He’s seems quite friendly.”
“Right,” I said, glancing at the door again. “I’ll probably have to shoot him before this is all done.”
“Maybe you should just give him a firm talking to,” Monty said as we moved forward. “Sometimes a strong word is all it takes.”
“You’d be amazed at the radical behavior therapy a bullet can produce,” I said. “It’s life altering.”
The situation room was mostly empty. Douglas sat at the conference table with a series of maps rolled out in front of him. Most of the computer terminals were empty of personnel, and standing to the right of the entrance to the situation room was a short woman with a dark complexion.
She was also dressed in black combat armor, and I could tell she had spent some time in the gym. The air of relaxed menace about her let me know she had had extensive training.
Like Carlos, she wore several thigh holsters holding large guns. Unlike Carlos, she carried a shotgun strapped to her back. I could see the runework on the barrel of the Mossberg 590A1 Tactical. Whatever she shot with that thing was in for a bad day.
She stood absolutely still, something much harder than it sounds. If I hadn’t sensed her presence, she would have blended into the background. The stillness, along with her posture and gaze, let me know she had been trained in counter-surveillance. I glanced her way and she gave me a slight nod, which I returned. She was ten times the threat Carlos was.
There would be no pissing contest with her; she knew she was dangerous and had no need to prove it to anyone. I made a mental note not to piss her off—not yet, at least.
“Douglas,” I said. “You wanted to see me.”
“I did,” Douglas said. “I see you’ve met Carlos. Pay him no mind, he’s young and full of himself. Reminds me of you a lifetime ago.”
“I was young, but never stupid,” I said. “I knew better than to underestimate potential threats.” I turned to the woman. “And this is?”
“That’s Feelds,” Douglas said, gesturing to the woman in the corner. “She’s on loan to us from an agency I can’t divulge. One of the best shooters you want at your back on a breach.”
Douglas looked the same as I remembered. A little more gray in the hair, and some noticeable wrinkles around the eyes, but other than normal signs of aging he looked the same. He exercised
