Page 17

Reality set in.

“You don’t get it, General. It won’t be me.”

“There’s nobody else who can do this job as well as you, Lieutenant. That’s straight from your captain’s mouth.”

Why screw around with modesty?

“I agree, sir, but you misunderstood the captain. I’m trapped here until I get a medical go-ahead. This thing happened to my leg. It’s nothing—hell, it’s no problem at all—but without the doctor giving me a thumbs-up…”

“She’s given it.”

Captain Blake walked into the room.

“You’ve got medical clearance, Akecheta,” he said, shutting the door behind him. “Johnny, I hope you don’t mind, but I figured it might be time for me to show my face.”

Wilde nodded. “You were right. I just told the lieutenant that I want him on the ground in San Escobal and he’s telling me that’s not possible.”

Blake looked at Tanner.

“It’s absolutely possible,” he said briskly. “Turns out the doc made a mistake filling out her latest report on you. She says you’re fit for duty. So does the surgeon who worked on you.”

Tanner felt a muscle flicker in his jaw.

Part of him wanted to pump his fist in the air. Part wanted to connect that fist with his captain’s chin. He’d begged. Pleaded. Done everything but get on his knees in supplication when asking to be returned to duty. The answer, always, had been no.

Now, these two old friends, one of them among the highest-ranked officers in the country, had changed all that simply because they could.

The realization burned his ass.

He’d tell these jerks exactly that. Let them know what he thought of rules that kept a man from doing what he’d been born to do until it suited the needs of others.

“Well?” Blake said. “Are you up for this or not, Akecheta?”

There was only one possible answer.

And it was yes.

CHAPTER THREE

Somewhere over the United States, just after 8 p.m. Eastern time:

Four-star generals were magicians.

They were good at pulling rabbits out of hats.

San Escobal was in the Caribbean. That made south Florida the logical starting point.

Small problem.

The distance between Camp Condor and south Florida was almost three thousand miles.

So the first rabbit out of the hat was fast transport.

That turned out to be no problem at all.

Tanner sat in a U.S. Navy F/A-18F Super Hornet, a two-seater version of the newest, fastest jet that existed. The pilot would bring the jet down at Boca Chica Key in Key West, where an Hughes MH-6 Little Bird helicopter would be waiting.

The other rabbits out of the hat were things he could have gotten on his own, but never with the speed that came of having them requested by a guy with four stars on his shoulder boards.