“We’re going to die on these things,” Vera sighs.
“Not likely,” I reply. “United States Special Forces used horses in Afghanistan. They’re tough, they make good time, they’re pretty much all-terrain… and they’ll get us in and out of the city undetected.”
“Not a bad idea,” Andrew remarks.
“Not bad at all,” Uriah adds.
Vera slowly, hesitantly strokes the nose of a toffee-colored horse. She’s smiling, peaceful. When she catches me watching her, she hardens.
“So,” she says. “What now?”
“We saddle up, obviously,” Manny replies. He pats the cheek of a brown-hued horse. “Take only the necessary items. Weapons, food, ammo and water. You’ve all got tactical medical kits on your person, so besides that… you should be set. Keep it light, boys and girls.”
“We brought a ton of supplies in the Humvees,” Derek comments, “and there’s no way we’re going to be able to take all of it on horseback. My RPG is going to have to stay behind.”
He looks utterly crushed.
“It’ll be okay, Derek,” I say, squeezing his shoulder. “We can’t use an RPG in downtown Los Angeles, anyway. It’s not exactly discreet.”
“No.” He grins. “But it would be awesome.”
“Manny,” I say in a low voice, “you’re going to have to walk me through this. I’ve never been on a horse before.”
“Girl, believe me when I say that you more than anyone else here is capable of riding a horse,” Manny answers. He presses my hand against the forehead of his horse. “This is Katana. She’s my favorite of the lot, and the most even-tempered. She’s best suited for you.”
“Oh.” I peek around the side of Katana’s head, studying her huge, long lashed brown eyes. “Hey, girl. Nice to meet you.”
Katana nickers a soft, breathy nuzzle in response.
“The secret of horseback riding is simple,” Manny begins. Arlene strides into the room with a bucket of water, sets it down near Katana’s stall, and looks at me.
“I see you’ve taken a liking to my favorite girl,” she whispers.
I shrug. “Um, actually…”
“Ladies,” Manny interrupts. “If you don’t mind, I’m trying to give a lecture here.”
“Please continue,” I say.
The platoon fills the stable. We must look odd. Twenty-five camouflaged militiamen inside a 150-year-old stable. Then again… soldiers and horses were the equivalent to soldiers and Humvees not so long ago.
“Like I was saying before I was interrupted,” Manny goes on, raising an annoyed eyebrow, “the secret of horseback riding is very simple. Get on, hang on and pay attention. You exercise common sense and the horse will, too. You stay calm, and the horse will stay calm. You take care of your horse, and your horse will take care of you. It’s not really any different than a relationship with a human, actually.” He gestures to Katana. “Take this horse, for example. Fine tempered creature, common sense. As long as you treat her right, she’ll treat you right.”
“Sounds like dating advice to me,” Derek remarks.
The militiamen laugh. Manny cracks a smile.
“Very true,” Manny says. “Like I said. They’re not so different from people.”
“How do you know so much about horses, flyboy?” somebody shouts.
“I was raised with horses. Worked with them all my life in a stable before I got into flying. Now who’s ready to ride into Los Angeles?”
“Hi-ho Silver,” Uriah mutters, smiling at me.
“The Lone Ranger,” I say.
“Yeah. Now that’s a great old show.”
I tilt my head. Somehow, Uriah doesn’t strike me as someone who would appreciate the classics, but hey. Who am I to judge?
“These horses can go about fifteen to thirty miles in a day with pack loads, provided we give them the proper amount of rest and care on the way into the city,” Manny continues. “We’ll be traveling on rising and falling terrain, so we’ll need to be careful about pushing them too hard.” He pauses. “So. Any questions?”
“I got one,” Uriah says.
“Go.”
He leans against the wall, jerking his thumb at a horse.
“How do we actually ride these things?”
Manny cracks his knuckles and rolls up his sleeves. He looks a little mischievous.
“Now that, my boy, is the fun part,” he says.
The night is cold, but the clouds have cleared enough to shed white, brilliant moonlight across the mountains. I’m sitting with my boots in the stirrups of Katana’s saddle, holding her reins in the palm of my hand. I’ve got nothing but my rifle on my back, my sidearm on my thigh, my knife on my belt and a jacket buttoned up to the neck.
The horses are snorting blasts of steaming breath in the chill. A couple of them paw the ground.
Manny is seated on a horse beside me, lazily studying his flight cap.
“Are you going to bring that?” I ask.
He looks up. “Of course,” he replies. “It’s my good luck charm.”
“I don’t believe in luck.”
“You don’t, eh? Then what do you believe in, Commander?”
I don’t answer. Because I’m not sure I know anymore.
I can feel Katana’s lungs expand and shrink with each breath. Her body is warm, and every once in a while she snorts through her nose — loudly. Derek is loading up the last of the horses with gear, while the rest of the platoon finds their own animal.
“You have all of the information you’ll need,” Arlene says. She pats Katana’s nose. “Do you have any questions, Commander?”
“No,” I reply. “Manny?”
“I’m fine and dandy,” he replies. “Not much else to say.”
“Good luck, Manny,” she says softly. “Come back safely.” She looks at me. “You too. I pray that your operation will be successful.”
“Thank you,” I answer. “We’ll be back. Count on it.”
“Your mission codename,” she says. “What is it? What do I tell the Underground?”
I think about it.
“Angel Pursuit,” I say at last.
She nods, approving.
I tap the heels of my boots against Katana’s flanks and she moves forward.
Easy enough, I think. For now.
The motion of the horse is almost like riding on the moving deck of a ship. Every movement of the animal rolls your body slightly forward and backward. I feel exposed sitting on top of such a big creature. I can see clearly in all directions, but as a mountain fighter, I’m used to traveling within the cover of ravines, behind trees and through bushes. Not perched on top of a twelve-hundred pound horse.
Behind the stables, there’s a hidden trail that winds into the woods. Manny moves toward it — but not before he whispers something to Arlene. She smiles.
It’s a sad smile. A wistful one.
I wonder what he said.
“Alrighty, Commander,” Manny tells me. “I’ll lead the way.”
“Roger that.”
He turns on his horse to look over the platoon. They’re saddled up and ready to go. Half of the group looks unsure of what they’re doing on their horses, while the other half seems to be adjusting just fine. Uriah is one of the latter.
He trots up beside me, an expression of wry amusement on his face.
“You look pretty relaxed in the saddle,” he comments.
I pull back on the reins and turn Katana to the right. I click my tongue against the roof of my mouth and urge her forward. She follows Manny’s lead, and the entire platoon begins moving out of the stable area, into the woods.