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As he fell, he kept laughing.
Kaboom! An explosion rocked the Learjet.
I hung on for dear life. How had the tattooed guy managed to get ahold of a bomb?
Stone shut the cabin door and leaned against it for a moment.
“That was too damn close,” Tex said.
Johnson dropped into a seat. “How do you even search for something like that?”
“Like what?” I demanded.
Stone straightened. “A body cavity bomb.”
“Roberts put a bomb in him?” I stared at the sergeant in horror.
“Yes,” Rodriquez replied.
I sank down on a chair. “I know Roberts is a monster but that’s just…” My voice trailed off.
“Evil,” Tex finished.
I nodded. “Didn’t someone try and off a Saudi prince that way?” Call me curious.
“A Houthi militant. He created a bloody mess, but he was the only one that died.
In case I ever ran into this situation again, I had a few questions. “How did you know he had a bomb in him?”
“A flashing red light appeared in the middle of his chest,” Rodriquez said, removing the rope around his waist.
Stone grabbed a bottle of whiskey out of a glass cabinet, unscrewed the top and took a long drink. “And he started ticking.” He handed the bottle to Tex.
Tex drank some and passed it to Rodriquez.
Rodriquz took the whiskey bottle and drained it.
“Hey! You didn’t leave any for me,” Johnson protested.
The sergeant pulled out another bottle and handed it to him.
Johnson unscrewed the top and started drinking.
I snatched the bottle away. “Seriously guys, we have a woman and child to rescue, and you can’t do it drunk.”
“Yeah, we can,” Stone drawled arrogantly.
I sighed. They probably could. “Let’s not. I scare easily.”
The men started laughing.
Stone’s satellite phone beeped. He pulled it out of his pocket, and grimaced.
“You gonna have to tell him what happened,” Rodriquez said.
The sergeant gave him the one-fingered salute and answered it. “Stone. Yes, sir. Our ETA to Hawke’s Bay is three hours. I understand, sir. This is an off the book covert operation. Yes, sir, King Saraki is involved. Roberts kidnapped his daughter and granddaughter.” Stone rubbed his forehead. “I’ll try, sir. Who’s the pilot? I agree, Jeb Wilson is a good soldier.” Stone stared at the ceiling for a moment. “Yes, sir, I’ll keep you informed.” He stuffed the phone back in his pocket, grabbed the whiskey bottle and took another drink.
“The general isn’t happy about King Saraki’s involvement, is he?” Tex asked.