“You mind if I ask you something?” Tommy said.
Buck nodded.
“You know where this safe house is?”
Buck paused. “That’s privileged information.”
“Oh that’s fucking rich,” Tommy said. “You see, that little hesitation tells me you don’t know squat. We’re in the middle of nowhere searching for a group of foreign soldiers and you’re too privileged to accept our help?”
Tommy walked around Buck and said to Matt. “C’mon. We’re running out of time. These terrorists already suspect something is up when they didn’t hear from Kemin. Let’s not give them a reason to skip town.”
“Where do you think you’re going?” Buck snapped.
Tommy dug a bright orange toothpick into the corner of his mouth. “The fuck you gonna do about it, pops? You gonna shoot an FBI agent and his informant? That your plan?”
“I can’t let you interfere with our mission.”
“Your mission?” Tommy sneered. “Let me tell you about my little mission. I got a cousin in the hospital from a gunshot wound ordered by someone hiding in these woods. My mission is to stomp my shoe on his throat until he understands my feelings about the matter. That’s my mission.”
Tommy walked over and picked up his gun, then retrieved Matt’s gun and handed it to him.
“Let’s go,” Tommy said.
Matt stood there for a moment, weighing his options.
“For crying out loud,” Tommy bellowed, “they ain’t gonna shoot us. Let’s get out of here.”
Matt followed Tommy. He looked straight ahead and never wavered, even when Buck hollered for them to stop. Tommy was right, they weren’t going to shoot an FBI agent-were they?
Buck gave a command that Matt didn’t quite hear. He kept pace with Tommy. The clatter of rifles and machine guns rushed into firing position echoed through the forest. Matt’s pulse quickened.
Buck growled another command to his troops.
Matt kept walking.
“One more step and you’re both dead men,” Bucked yelled as clear as if he were a foot away.
Tommy kept going. He waved a middle finger over his shoulder as he continued his stride.
Matt stopped, but didn’t turn around. His instincts told him they were bluffing, but he wasn’t willing to wager his life on it.
Matt turned to face the troops who looked very much like a firing squad.
“Are you going to shoot me?” Matt asked.
“You bet your ass I am,” Buck sneered.
A female voice called from behind Buck’s men. The voice was cool and calm. It was Jennifer Steele. She held out her 9mm. Next to her was Deputy Luke Fletcher aiming his rifle at Buck.
“I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” Steele said.
Buck turned and scoffed at the sight. His men turned their weapons on the two law enforcement officials. “This is your posse, Agent McColm?”
Matt grinned at the sight of Steele coming to save him. “Yeah,” he said. “You can call it that.”
Buck’s amused face turned sour, then approached Steele with a slow, methodical gait.
“We’re contracted to do a job,” Buck said, and left it at that.
Steele nodded. “Give me a reason why I shouldn’t take you all in for treason?”
“Because,” Buck said, “we’re all on the same side here.”
“Is that what you’re calling this?”
Buck sneered at Steele while pointing at Deputy Fletcher. “Is that supposed to scare me?” He made it a point to look at his crew which were all standing with one eye in their site, focusing their automatic weapons directly at the deputy. “I mean, what’s he going to do, shoot every one of my crew before his body gets pulverized with bullets?”
“No,” Steele said. “He’s just going to shoot you.”
Buck frowned, then gave a nod to his soldiers and they lowered their weapons.
“We have a job to do here,” Buck said in a low voice.
Steele put her gun down. “Does your job include threatening an FBI agent?”
“We have a contract with the State Department.”
“So?”
Buck looked back at Matt as if he might understand his authority best. “Our contract affords us complete immunity while on our mission. Which includes unlawful deaths.”
“What?” Tommy blurted. He looked at Matt. “Is that even possible?”
Matt took a breath and exchanged glances with Steele. They both knew how these private forces worked. If it were a Black Budget Contract, Buck’s team could shoot anyone they wanted, whenever they wanted, without any ramifications.
“Yeah,” Matt said to Tommy. “It’s possible.”
Tommy pulled out his cell phone and glanced at the time, then shoved it back into his pocket. He looked at Buck. “Listen, you’re a real pisser to chat with, but we’ve got a terrorist to catch.”
“He’s right,” Matt said. “We have a live target around here.”
“Yeah,” Buck said. “That’s our target.”
“Well then let’s all get it done,” Tommy said.
Matt chewed on his lower lip, searching for a way to make it work. They might be able to combine forces, but there could be only one leader.
It seemed Buck had sensed the same predicament. “All right,” he said, “let’s join forces and find these guys, but,” the experienced soldier glared at Matt, “I’m the one giving the orders here.”
Matt shook his head. “I can’t do that.”
“Tell me,” Buck said.
Matt apprised the group of mercenaries who watched intently. “You guys are good, no question.”
“The best,” Buck said.
“And your equipment is superior.”
Buck nodded in agreement.
“But when it comes to terrorists you forget to ask the most important question. Why.”
“Who gives a crap why?” Buck snorted. “Let the man upstairs figure that one out for them.”
“But you don’t track a terrorist the same way you track a drug dealer, or a serial killer.”
“Sure you do,” Buck said, looking over his men for a moment. “Bad guys are bad guys. You think you’re something special just because you and your partner took care of Kemel Kharrazi?”
“No,” Matt said. “We just have more experience with this organization.”
Buck stretched out his thick neck and sneered. “You think I’m some dumb hick who doesn’t understand his adversary?”
Tommy pulled the toothpick from his mouth and pointed it at Buck. “Yeah, I think you’re on to something there, killer.”
Matt shot Tommy a look and watched him shrug.
“For your information, I happen to know quite a bit about these KSF turds,” Buck said. “I know they’re tunnel-diggers. I know they don’t follow any particular religious sect. And I know they’re a little lost ever since your partner won a game of chicken with their leader a few months back.”
“That’s good,” Matt said, moving left toward a particularly thick pine. “Did you know they don’t send out scouts with guns?”
“What?” Buck said, looking confused.
“I mean they send their lookouts with knives so they aren’t tempted to fire a weapon in the open theatre and give away their position,” Matt said, looking straight up the wide pine tree. “Isn’t that right, Semir?”
With choreographed speed, Buck’s team swarmed the tree where Matt stood and took military positions, their machine guns clattered as they flanked their target, pointing straight up the tree trunk.
There was a small man at the top of the tree with green fatigues and green-face, effortlessly blending into the scenery. His legs were wrapped around the pine like it might blast off without him. He looked resigned to his fate as he faced the squad of trained soldiers.
Matt smiled at Buck and said, “Tell me more about these tunnel-diggers.”
Chapter 6
President John Merrick sat on the couch reading the daily CIA report on his tablet computer when the door to the Oval Office opened. There was only one person who would enter the office without knocking.
“Hey, Sam,” Merrick said while scrolling the page with his finger.