Operation Summer Storm Read Online Free PDF Page B

do.”
    Tate didn’t share his friend’s optimism. He had a very bad feeling about this—a very bad feeling indeed.
    * * * *
    Summer was shocked she’d managed to sleep. The rattle of coffee cups and bodies moving around the small hut jolted her back into consciousness. She sat up and rubbed her arms. They were sore after being tied behind her in the car ride over the night before. She watched the three men moving about the small cabin. One of them came around to stand in front of her. He appeared to be the youngest of the double-crossing-black-hearted-bastards.
    “Name’s Tupper,” he held up a coffee cup in silent enquiry.
    She’d planned to remain aloof and uncooperative this morning in retribution to last night’s fiasco but the desire for strong, fragrant, coffee, over-powered her pride. She gratefully nodded in response.
    Carefully she swung her legs over the side of the bed and made a mental inventory of her limbs. They seemed to be working, albeit, a little more tentatively than usual thanks to last night’s rather unconventional mode of transportation.
    “I remember who you are,” she told him quietly as she accepted the cup, mindful of its hot contents.
    “Feeling better this morning?” he asked, making conversation.
    Summer sipped at her brew, awkward in the company of three strange men. From their point of view she was a blackmailing two-timing-double-crosser. In the same position, she doubted she’d be friendly either but they surprised her by sending a brief nod in way of greeting.
    “Then you’ll also remember that this here’s Maloney—he’s the old guy of the team, and Del,” Tupper lent close and whispered, “Del thinks he’s a bit of a ladies’ man; better watch out for him.”
    The ladies man in question watched her with an expressionless face void of any real emotion which made Summer more than a little nervous. Watch out for him? Summer intended to give the guy an extremely wide berth! However, she was grateful for the formal introduction as opposed to the sarcastic roll call of names Tate had thrown out the previous day.
    She noticed they were dressed casually, looking like an everyday bunch of tourists. She wasn’t sure what she was expecting, but considering the region they were in and the lack of tolerance the government showed foreigners in regards to obeying laws—it probably didn’t do you any favors to draw attention to the fact you were hired mercenaries...or worse, a unit of Marines on the run. Then he walked through the doorway.
    Summer’s heart bounced against her rib cage. Tate sent her a cursory glance, barely a flicker, before barking out a list of jobs left to do. The men rinsed out their cups and got back to work. Standing to one side of the room, she tried to keep out of their way but jumped when he came to a stop in front of her.
    “You’ve got five minutes or we leave without you,” he growled.
    Summers jaw clenched, at his abrasive tone, “Where are we going?”
    “Back to town to collect your things, then to the airport,” his tone was clipped, his manner, rigid.
    “To go where?” When he looked as though he were going to ignore her, she added, “Look, you don’t have to like me, but you had damn well better tell me where we’re going and keep me informed.”
    “Have you heard of Los Cavernas?” he asked.
    Summer blinked. “The island where Michael was heading to meet you?” she said, recalling the information from the file.
    “It’s an island in the Philippines, owned by a business associate; it’s where we run our base from.”
    “Why does it have a Mexican name then?”
    With a long suffering sigh, he turned his sharp gaze back to her face wearily, “He liked Mexico, so he named his island something that made him feel like he was still there…anything else you need to know? Water temperature? Seven day forecast? Travel time?” he muttered sarcastically.
    “Actually yes, I would like to know how long it’s going to take to get