Page 64
Story: The Hit (Team Zulu 1)
“I knew it.” She stabbed a finger at my arm. “You never gave me the full story, did you? What are you, Shep? Because it’s obvious to me you weren’t some ordinary soldier.”
I took a deep breath and nodded. Time to confess. “Started out as infantry, then went to Ranger school and served in Iraq with the 75th. Worked alongside Special Forces there. They impressed me so much I decided I’d try for the Q Course. Passed that, then spent most of my time deployed in Afghanistan.”
Cam’s eyes bugged out. “You were Special Forces? What, like a SEAL or something?”
I snorted. “Those showy sons of bitches get all the glory. No, not a SEAL, a Green Beret. SEALs go about flashing their trident tatts and telling their hero stories, but we do our business without all the fanfare. Quiet professionals. We were involved in unconventional warfare, working with the local forces and villagers to hunt down the Taliban hiding in the mountains. We’d spend months deep in enemy territory. Long deployments, a lot of frustration, and a lot of death.”
I was hesitant to admit any more. But I trusted Cam, and I didn’t think her knowing about my time serving with Team Zulu would place her in any further danger. She was already up to her eyeballs in it.
“One day, a guy from the CIA approached me. Had me do a heap of practical skills and psych tests. Said they were putting together an elite team made up of operators from different units. The group was so secretive we didn’t have an official name. We called ourselves Team Zulu. As in, we were the last guys you wanted tracking you down. A select few knew of our existence and gave us our missions.”
“Wait, what?” She shook her head. “Now you’re telling me you’re some kind of CIA spy?”
“No, not a spy.” I shrugged. “Just part of a team of operators who got shit done that no one else could. Most of the unit is still together, but a few of us have quit.”
“Your friend, Ben. Was he one of them?”
“Yeah, he was our intelligence and tech specialist.”
“What was your specialty?”
A slow grin spread across my face. “I was the weapons guy.”
Cam rolled her eyes and smirked. “Should’ve guessed.”
There were twelve in Team Zulu and we were all elite operators, multi-disciplined with specialties to boot. On our own we were lethal. As a group, we were unstoppable.
Apart from Ben Landers, we also had the best sniper on the planet, an explosives specialist, a medic, a kick ass tactician, an engineer and a couple of guys who could somehow fly anything with wings or a rotor.
“Right. So, you’re telling me you were part of a coordinated bunch of the baddest baddasses in the country.”
I pursed my lips. “Something like that.”
I let Cam take a moment to process it all.
Her hand went to her forehead. “Wow, I didn’t expect our pillow talk going in this direction.” She sighed. “So, you believe you can take Franky out? You’re not bluffing, are you?”
“I understand how groups like the Mafia work. I’ll cut the head off the snake, watch his minions scatter and deal with them if need be. But once they see the body count rising, they’ll realize that it’s better to leave me in peace. Most of them are cowards, overgrown schoolyard bullies. And anyone who wants to avenge the death of Franky Russo is welcome to try. They’ll get no mercy from me.”
“Do you think anyone from your team will help? Ben already is.” There was hope in her voice, but I’d thought this scenario through.
“Of the guys who are no longer in active service, yeah, they’d help if I asked them. But I can’t do that, Cam. I won’t get them involved in this.”
“Why not? Are you worried about them getting hurt?”
“It is dangerous, but that’s not why. Our jobs were always on foreign soil. We’d slip in, complete the mission, and be back home before anyone knew what we’d done. But doing something this high profile in our own backyard is risky. If any of my brothers got caught, I’d be condemning them to one of two fates: death row, or fleeing the country and living a life on the run.”
She recoiled. “And what if you get caught?”
“Wasn’t planning on sticking around to find out. Might dig out my fake German passport. Or maybe the French one. I haven’t decided.” I smiled.
Cam pulled her hand from my grip. “So that’s what you’re proposing? Trading your life for mine? Everything you have here, you’d give it all up for me?”
“I would. It’s the right thing to do. For the first time in my life, I could make a difference for something that matters.” I traced my thumb along her clenched jaw. “Get you home where you belong and delete Franky Russo from the world.”
“Just hold up a second.” She curled her hair behind her ears. “First, there’s no way I’m comfortable with you putting yourself at risk like this. As impressive as your skills may be, what you’re proposing is still crazy. Think about what you’d be giving up if you got caught. This place, which is your sanity. And what about Ranger? Does he go on the run with you?”
We both looked to the dog bed on the floor where Ranger slept, his paws and lips twitching in a dream. I’m not sure when he followed us in here, or how much of our bed activities he witnessed, but he didn’t seem too traumatized.
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