Page 21 of Believe

Sure enough, just as Matthew had said, over the ridge was more than a hundred rebels waiting to kill the American troops tonight.

But their fight was ending and the men would ensure it. Unable to see them, they easily killed the rebels, blew their weapons and ammunition stores, trucks, tanks, and more.

At the American camp, the men stared at one another, unsure of what the explosions were. They heard the fighting, the firing of weapons and wondered if they were finally going to be able to go home.

“Is that our relief?” asked one man.

“I don’t think so. We’ve had no communication at all,” said their leader. “It can’t be possible.”

They waited, anticipating an attack at any moment but when the sounds of explosives and weapons ended and silence consumed the night sky, they stared at one another, fearful of what might come.

“Coming into camp,” yelled a voice, a decidedly American voice.

“Who are you?” yelled their leader.

“I’m a former American Navy SEAL,” said Nine followed by their team. “We’ve taken care of the rebels and we’re here to get you all back to base.”

“Wh-who are you?” whispered one of the men.

“Not really important but let’s get out of here before anyone else comes along. We need to get you boys home for the holidays.”

While they were boarding the strange plane, Gaspar was on the line talking to the base command. At first, they were confused as to how in the world they would have known where those men were located. The base had been trying to find them for weeks now and were constantly sent in the wrong direction.

“How did you know where they were?” asked the commander.

“A little birdie told us,” he smirked. “Just promise me these men will go home.”

“I can definitely promise that, Gaspar. We thought they were lost. Their comms were malfunctioning and we couldn’t get anyone over that area to see what was happening.”

“Where are the drones?” he asked.

“Most were destroyed and those that weren’t are being used in the active war zones.”

“Active war zones? What the hell did you think that was? Those men were in a death trap! They should have never been there. What the hell were they protecting?”

“I can’t answer that. You know I can’t,” he said.

“Can’t or won’t? Never mind, I know the answer to that,” frowned Gaspar. “I tell you what. Get me the clearance to take them directly back to Bragg. No stops. No paperwork. Give these guys a fucking break.”

“Robicheaux, you’ve got balls, I’ll give you that.”

“You have no idea,” said Gaspar. “Do it. Or when I return I’ll have a conversation with the press about how those men were forgotten.”

There was silence on the other end of the line, then mumbling to what was most likely and aide. When the phone was active again, he got his answer.

“Take them home.”

When Gaspar reappeared to the exhausted team, they were enjoying the delicacies of a Gray Wolf jet. Eating, drinking, their face and hands finally washed and clean for the first time in weeks. They were smiling and relaxed.

“Sir, who are you? Who are all of you and what the hell kind of plane is this?” asked their leader.

“We are retired SEALs, Delta, Rangers, and Green Berets.”

“Holy fuck,” muttered a young man. “They’re REAPER, I mean, Voodoo or whatever.”

“Sort of,” smiled Nine. “We were Gray Wolf Security. Our sons and grandsons run the other businesses.”

“How did you know where we were?” asked the man.