Oh, yeah. Judging by the chuck, chuck, chuck of her custom AR-15, Tinkerbelle – Johnny Duane Reed's own personal transplant from Never Neverland – was kicking some serious fairy ass. If help didn't arrive soon, though, preferably in the form of their Black Ops., Inc. extraction team, not only was he going to die in this snake-infested jungle, Tink was going to take the long good-bye with him.
The thought of losing her redoubled the pain that screamed through his shoulder where an AK round had ripped through flesh and bone, made a helluva big mess and put them both in a world of trouble.
"Shoulda clipped … your wings, Tink." He shook his head and fought the darkness from the blood loss and the suffocating, wet jungle heat that threatened to drag him under. "Told Nate … this … was a … bad idea. Never shoulda … let you … come along … never shoulda-"
"Shut up. Just shut up," his wife snapped. She popped off another burst of return fire, answering the AK-47 rounds that flew at them from a gully fifty yards away. "You don't get to talk anymore. You don't get to do anything but lie still and put pressure on that damn bleeder."
That's my girl , he thought as he closed his eyes and wrestled with the jolt of fire searing through his shoulder. She don't take no lip from nooobody . But, damn, he shouldn't have folded when she'd begged to get out from behind the desk again. He should have insisted she stay behind.
"Intel on Luis Reyes, big player in the Zeta, Mexican drug cartel," their boss, Nate Black, of Black Ops. Inc., had recapped the mission for the BOI team, "tells us Reyes has set up a sophisticated paramilitary training compound for his private army."
They'd been gearing up at the time as their flat-bottom speedboat delivered them to their infiltration point along the south bank of the Rio Usumacinta in central Guatemala. An active waterway for drug smuggling, the Rio Usumacinta dissected a wild jungle that was a perfect spot for the cartel to set up camp.
"Not only are they training at the paramilitary compound, they're producing weapons," Nate had continued with a hard look as he ran through their mission one last time. "Your primary objectives are to infiltrate Reyes' camp, conduct a recon to confirm their ability to produce weapons, get a read on their inventory and get out. We need a big score on this op.
"And people," Nate had added, glancing at the four-person BOI team consisting of Luke – Doc Holliday – Colter, Gabe – the Archangel – Jones, Johnny and Tink before the boat had pulled away and left them on the river bank, "let's make this an easy in, easy out, okay?"
Okay, Johnny thought, biting back another groan.
Easy in – check.
Easy out – not so much.
The team had infiltrated the seven hundred acre enemy encampment through dense, heavily forested terrain in less than two hours, gotten eyes on and confirmed the intel was accurate. The facility included a firing range, a heavy breaching area, an urban training ground used to build explosives, processing and storage facilities, and a chopper landing pad.
It had been a smooth sailing, piece-of-cake mission … until a truck load of Reyes's thugs had barreled up, caught them inside a bomb prep building and opened fire.
Doc and Gabe had sprinted one direction, he and Tink the other. And that's when he'd caught the round in his shoulder. He and Tink had made it a hundred yards before the blood loss had forced them to stop and hunker down.
He fought to focus on his wife as she continued to cover Reyes's guns with her rifle fire. Damn. She was still too green for this kind of op … and yet, she was keeping his sorry ass alive. If the bullet didn't end up killing him, the hit to his ego just might finish the job.
What a world. Two years ago, if anyone had given Reed ten to one odds on his chances of someday bleeding out from an AK round in some Central American shit hole
The thought of losing her redoubled the pain that screamed through his shoulder where an AK round had ripped through flesh and bone, made a helluva big mess and put them both in a world of trouble.
"Shoulda clipped … your wings, Tink." He shook his head and fought the darkness from the blood loss and the suffocating, wet jungle heat that threatened to drag him under. "Told Nate … this … was a … bad idea. Never shoulda … let you … come along … never shoulda-"
"Shut up. Just shut up," his wife snapped. She popped off another burst of return fire, answering the AK-47 rounds that flew at them from a gully fifty yards away. "You don't get to talk anymore. You don't get to do anything but lie still and put pressure on that damn bleeder."
That's my girl , he thought as he closed his eyes and wrestled with the jolt of fire searing through his shoulder. She don't take no lip from nooobody . But, damn, he shouldn't have folded when she'd begged to get out from behind the desk again. He should have insisted she stay behind.
"Intel on Luis Reyes, big player in the Zeta, Mexican drug cartel," their boss, Nate Black, of Black Ops. Inc., had recapped the mission for the BOI team, "tells us Reyes has set up a sophisticated paramilitary training compound for his private army."
They'd been gearing up at the time as their flat-bottom speedboat delivered them to their infiltration point along the south bank of the Rio Usumacinta in central Guatemala. An active waterway for drug smuggling, the Rio Usumacinta dissected a wild jungle that was a perfect spot for the cartel to set up camp.
"Not only are they training at the paramilitary compound, they're producing weapons," Nate had continued with a hard look as he ran through their mission one last time. "Your primary objectives are to infiltrate Reyes' camp, conduct a recon to confirm their ability to produce weapons, get a read on their inventory and get out. We need a big score on this op.
"And people," Nate had added, glancing at the four-person BOI team consisting of Luke – Doc Holliday – Colter, Gabe – the Archangel – Jones, Johnny and Tink before the boat had pulled away and left them on the river bank, "let's make this an easy in, easy out, okay?"
Okay, Johnny thought, biting back another groan.
Easy in – check.
Easy out – not so much.
The team had infiltrated the seven hundred acre enemy encampment through dense, heavily forested terrain in less than two hours, gotten eyes on and confirmed the intel was accurate. The facility included a firing range, a heavy breaching area, an urban training ground used to build explosives, processing and storage facilities, and a chopper landing pad.
It had been a smooth sailing, piece-of-cake mission … until a truck load of Reyes's thugs had barreled up, caught them inside a bomb prep building and opened fire.
Doc and Gabe had sprinted one direction, he and Tink the other. And that's when he'd caught the round in his shoulder. He and Tink had made it a hundred yards before the blood loss had forced them to stop and hunker down.
He fought to focus on his wife as she continued to cover Reyes's guns with her rifle fire. Damn. She was still too green for this kind of op … and yet, she was keeping his sorry ass alive. If the bullet didn't end up killing him, the hit to his ego just might finish the job.
What a world. Two years ago, if anyone had given Reed ten to one odds on his chances of someday bleeding out from an AK round in some Central American shit hole
Similar Books
Blood's Pride (Shattered Kingdoms)
Evie Manieri
Solbidyum Wars Saga 4: Too Late for Earth
Dale C. Musser
Bleeding Out
Jes Battis
Encyclopedia Brown and the Case of the Treasure Hunt
Donald J. Sobol
Ruthless People
J.J. McAvoy
Hungry
Sheila Himmel
Sister Heart
Sally Morgan
5ive Star Bitch
Tremayne Johnson
The Geek and His Artist
Hope Ryan
Reed: Bowen Boys
Kathi S. Barton