“Adar bought the spoofed e-mails. He just wrote back. He’s leaving Iraq today. He’ll be back in a couple of days.”
I nodded. As long as he had the box, everything would be fine, but from everything I had learned, he always had the box. It was his prized possession and life-insurance policy. “Good. We’ll intercept him at his safe house outside of town.”
“You think he’s as scary as the rumors make him out to be?” Reaper asked. The word on Adar made him sound like some sort of jihadi Jack the Ripper. If Adar had been born into some other society, he probably would have been a serial killer. But luckily for the young murderer from Riyadh, Falah had recruited him and put his natural talents for cruelty to good use for their cause. “I mean, come on, we’ve dealt with some crazies, but this guy takes the cake. Dude, he like eats people and stuff.”
“No big deal.” I clapped my young associate on the back. “So he’s bug-nuts crazy and I get to kill him. I told you this job has some perks.”
“There’s more,” Reaper said. “I just heard on the news, they’re evacuating the American embassy. There’s a big mob protesting in front of it. The State Department said that all Americans need to leave Zubara right away.” His grin exposed a bank of grossly crooked teeth. “I’m guessing that doesn’t apply to us.”
I hadn’t been back in my home country in forever—too many laws, too much order. Life out on the fringe was much more to my liking. “It looks like the Zoob’s heating up. Don’t worry, we’ll be out of here before the place totally melts down.”
“I don’t know, chief,” Reaper said slowly, like he was the one with all the experience. “This shitty little country is important to a lot of powerful folks, shadowy, scary, secret government crazy shit. I wouldn’t be surprised if there was a bunch of stuff going down.”
Oh, not again. I rolled my eyes. “You’ve been listening to that conspiracy theory talk-radio show again, haven’t you?”
“From Sea to Shining Sea?” Reaper shrugged. “You know, it isn’t always just space aliens and Reptoids of the Hollow Earth. Their political analysis is awesome. Way better than the propaganda you get from the regular news. You really should listen. I’ve got it streaming right now if you want.”
I snorted. “If I’m ever commissioned to rob Atlantis, I’ll tune in. In the meantime, you worry too much.”
“I’m just saying, I got a bad feeling about this is all.”
VALENTINE
Fort Saradia National Historical Site
April 11
1230
“Cover me, goddamn it!” Tailor snarled as fire poured onto his position.
“Hang on, hang on,” I said. I had a situation of my own to deal with. There were at least four bad guys coming up on my left.
“I need help now or I’m gonna die! Shit. I’m hit!”
I could see where Tailor went down. I started for him, but the distraction cost me. I didn’t see the guy with the chainsaw until it was too late.
“Come and save me, damn it.”
There was blood everywhere as I was cut in half. “Too late. I’m dead.” I tossed the vibrating controller on the couch. Tailor swore at me first and then the Xbox.
The biggest open room on the first floor of the dorms had been turned into the rec room. We’d scrounged up a couple of games, a bunch of free weights, and a dart board. Our chalk was enjoying the break. Wheeler was spotting Hudson, as our big man bench-pressed enormous amounts of weight. Wheeler saw that we were toast and got excited. “About time. Our turn. Wrap it up, Hud.”
Hudson grunted as he shoved up three hundred pounds for the ninth time. He was actually scary. “One. More.”
“You suck, Val,” Tailor whined as his character was curb-stomped to death. “You completely and utterly suck. You sucked so hard you choked on your suck. You suck at horde mode.”
I raised an eyebrow. “It’s this stupid controller. I hate playing shooters on a console. A keyboard and mouse is superior in every way.”
Before Tailor could rebut and begin another nerd argument, Hudson racked the weights and stood up. “Get outta my chair, Tailor.” He grinned. “Let me show you how it’s done.”
“How about me and you play, Hud?” Tailor asked him. “Let these uncoordinated monkeys go play Candy Land or something. Leave the horde to the real men.”
“It’s my turn,” Wheeler insisted. “Just because it’s your call sign doesn’t mean you can hog it all day. Here, I’ll pull all the weights off for you, and we’ll see if you can do just the bar. Val, you better be ready to spot so he doesn’t drop it on his concave chest and hurt himself.”
Tailor flipped them both the bird as he passed over his controller. “Screw you, Wheeler, you soulless ginger. It ain’t my fault I want to enjoy the finest recreation that Club Sara-Dia has to offer.”
“Saradia,” Hudson corrected as he flopped onto the couch. “Say it with me. Saw-radia.”
“Sara-Dia!” Tailor exclaimed, needlessly accentuating his twang.
“Now you’re just messing with me,” Hudson muttered.
“What?” Tailor asked. “Sara-Dia.”
“Hell, I can’t tell if you’re Southern or handicapped,” Wheeler said. “But I repeat myself.”
We were becoming a tight crew. One of the things I’d missed after leaving Vanguard was the camaraderie. It was good to have the R&R time together. Too bad it was temporary.
One of the colonel’s security men appeared in the doorway. “Tailor, Valentine, Mr. Willis needs to speak to you right away.” He didn’t even wait for the response.
Tailor groaned. “Oh, what now?”
“Come on, man.” I headed for the door. “This is why we’re paid the medium bucks.”
“I’m management. I should be getting bigger bucks.” Tailor reluctantly followed. He stopped at the doorway to shout at Hudson and Wheeler. “Sara-Dia!” Then he ducked around the corner as Wheeler chucked an orange Fanta can at him.
The two of us headed across the courtyard. Tailor seemed to be in a better than normal mood, but shooting people in third-world nations was his element. “How’s Sarah doing?”
“She’s good,” I replied, suspicious. “Why?”
“I bet,” he said, smirking. I raised an eyebrow at him. “Val, I know you two are getting it on. She jumped your bones in the safe house, didn’t she?”
I chuckled. “As a matter of fact—”
Tailor laughed. “I hope you at least turned the couch cushions over.” I felt my face flush, and Tailor laughed at me again. “It’s about time, anyway. That girl’s been after you since the day you met.”
“This whole thing is insane,” I said. “I mean, it’s intense. I feel like a teenager. I don’t know how it’s going to work out, but—”
“Goddamn it Val, there you go again!” Tailor said, interrupting me. “Quit overthinking it! You always spaz out and scare the girl off.”
“When did I ever,” I began.
Tailor interrupted me again. “Remember Teresa?”
“Oh . . . right,” I said.
“I’m always right,” Tailor insisted. I was dubious about that claim, but in this instance he was. Teresa had been a medical assistant with Vanguard, and she was the last woman I’d almost had a relationship with. I more or less pushed her away. I had to give myself credit, though. I was trying really hard to avoid doing the same thing to Sarah. “I’m serious. Stop being such a big spaz-girl. I can’t have you worrying about some bullshit angst when we’re out in the field.”
“I’ll be fine,” I said. Tailor doused his cigarette as we entered the building. Gordon Willis and Colonel Hunter were waiting for us in the classroom.