Breanna didn’t want to cancel — informal sessions like that were almost always more valuable than the actual meetings themselves. But if she detoured up to Washington, she’d get almost no sleep.
So what else was new?
“All right,” Breanna told him. “I’ll meet you at Andrews.”
“Yes. Good.”
“Jonathon — do we have a problem here?”
Reid didn’t answer for a moment. “I don’t know that it’s a problem specifically for us,” he said finally.
“All right. I’ll talk to the pilot, and text you a time.”
Reid stared at the blank virtual wall for several minutes after Breanna had hung up.
No, the UAV wasn’t the whole story, not by a long shot. The code word “Raven” didn’t even refer to the aircraft.
If he was right, Whiplash had just been inserted into the middle of a perfect storm: an illegal assassination program, an off-the-books CIA tech development operation, and an Agency screwup that had just made an unstoppable weapon available to anyone who happened to spot the UAV wreckage in the middle of the desert.
Moral Dilemmas
Chapter 1
Danny Freah jumped from the Osprey just behind Ben “Boston” Rockland, the team sergeant, and John “Flash” Gordon, the second-ranking NCO. Melissa Ilse was huddled near the rocks.
“Flash, grab the bike!” yelled Boston. “Let’s go, people, we need to get moving!”
Danny trotted over to Melissa. She was crouched down, in obvious pain, holding her shoulder. Sugar — CIA covert officer Clare Keeb — was standing over her, her SCAR-H/MK-17 rifle poised, even though a scan of the area had shown no one nearby.
“Probably dislocated,” said Sugar, keeping her eyes on the terrain.
“It’s definitely dislocated,” said Melissa.
Danny knelt down. Melissa wasn’t what he expected. She was young — twenty-four, maybe, slim and tall, nearly five-ten, he thought, helping her up gently. Even in pain she had a beautiful, flawless face. Her skin was a half shade lighter than his; he hadn’t realized she was African-American.
“I’m all right,” she insisted. “We have to get the aircraft back. Do you know where they went?”
“We’ll take care of that,” said Danny. “Right now we have to get of here. The sun’s coming up. We don’t want anyone to see us.”
“That’s not important.”
“The hell it’s not,” said Boston gruffly.
“Come on, into the aircraft,” Danny told her. “Or do we put you on a stretcher?”
“Ow, my arm!” Melissa shrieked as Boston tried to help her on the other side. “Do you know how to pull it back into place?”
“Sure, but I ain’t doing that here.”
“We’ll treat it,” said Danny. “Get into the aircraft.”
Boston put his hand on her back. “Come on, sister.”
“I’m not your sister, asshole.”
Boston gave Danny a grin behind her back.
Just like Boston to start pushing buttons, thought Danny.
A half hour later they were back at the base in Ethiopia. The team had taken over one of the smaller buildings to use as a combination common area and command post. Sugar and Danny brought Melissa there and examined her shoulder. It was swollen, and seemed to have some ligament damage as well as a dislocation.
“Best place for you is up in Alexandria,” Danny told her. “They’ll put you out, get the shoulder right, and send you home.”
“What?”
“There’s a good hospital there. And—”
“I’m not going to a hospital,” she insisted. “There’s no need. It’s just dislocated. Just push it back in place.”
“This ain’t like the movies,” said Sugar. “You don’t know what else might be screwed up or broken. You need X rays, and really they oughta do an MRI on you. I’d guess you have rotator cuff tears—”
“Just can the talk and put it back in place.”
“Don’t go ghetto with me, girl,” snapped Sugar. She had earned her nickname because of her extremely sweet nature, but she could be a demon when someone rubbed her wrong.
“I know what I’m talking about,” insisted Melissa. “I’m a nurse.”
“Yeah, and I’m the President of the United States.”
“I’ll handle this,” said Danny. “Shug, go see what Nuri’s up to. All right?”
“Anything you say, Colonel.” Sugar rolled her eyes and left.
A half-dozen small canvas camp chairs had been left in the building. They were the only furniture, if you didn’t count the boxes and gear the Whiplash team had brought. Danny pulled over one of the chairs and sat down in front of Melissa. She had her shirt pulled down, exposing the top half of her breast as well as her shoulder.
Danny concentrated on her shoulder, gently touching the large bruise.
“I don’t think popping it back into place is a good idea,” he said.
“Have you ever done it before?”
“Have you?”
“Twice.”
“On yourself?”
“No.”
“If the muscle and ligaments are torn—”
“I need to get Raven back. It’s in Duka. I’m the only one here who can get in there and find it.”
“That’s not even close to being true,” said Nuri, standing near the door. Sugar was next to him. “Who are you working for?”
“Who are you?”
“Nuri Lupo. I spent six months out here, living with the rebels. I’ll tell you one thing, you’re damn lucky you’re alive. Riding out through those hills? American? Woman? Anyone who found you could have hit you over the head and hauled you back to their village. Ransom on your dead body would have set them up for life. And that’s if they dealt with us — give you to al Qaeda or one of the groups they support, you’d be worth a lot more.”
“I can take care of myself.”
“I’ll bet. Who do you work for?” Nuri asked. “Are you even authorized to be here?”
“If my shoulder didn’t hurt so badly, I’d slap your face.”
“All right, kindergarten time is over,” said Danny. “Sugar, get her some morphine.”
“I’m not taking any morphine,” insisted Melissa.
“If you want us to fix it, you’re getting a shot,” said Danny.
“I have a job to do here, Colonel. I’m not doing anything that will endanger it. And I’m sure as hell not going to Alexandria or anywhere else for a hospital. I’m not leaving until we have Raven.”
“That may be a while,” said Nuri.
Danny looked over at Nuri. “Let’s talk outside,” he told him.
Melissa grabbed him as he started to get up.
“I need to do my job,” she told him. “I don’t want morphine. I don’t want to be knocked out. Give me aspirin. That’s all I need.”
“I doubt that,” said Sugar. “Your muscles are in splint mode. Super hard. You need something to relax them.”
“Just get aspirin.”
Sugar glanced at Danny.
“Try aspirin,” he said. “Can you get her shoulder back into place?”
“I can try,” said Sugar. She sounded doubtful. “If her muscles relax enough.”
“How about a half dose of the morphine?” asked Danny. “Just enough to loosen up.”