Page 69 of Clive Cussler Ghost Soldier

“Have you met all of the other guys?” Linc asked, pointing at the crowd with his bottle.

“Oh, yes. Quite a collection of talent from all over. Irish, English, Syrian, Nigerian—”

“Who are the psychoMatrixtwins that were staring me down?”

“Polish special forces. A couple of realcaballeros. Apparently they got a little too rough with the Russian prisoners they captured. So they recently brought their butchering skills to the marketplace.”

“What about you? What’s your background?” He knew other ears were listening in on their conversation.

“Fuerzas Especiales.” Cabrillo took another pull of his beer.

“The Mexican Navy SEALs. Impressive. Early retirement?”

“Promotion. I became theprimero comandanteforLa Hermandad de las Almas Perdidas—the Brotherhood of Lost Souls.”

“A cartel death squad, if I recall correctly.”

“You do.”

The tall bearded man in the ball cap strode over to the two operators. Linc recognized his quiet authority and the cunning intelligence behind his eyes. No need to play schoolyard games with this one.

“Glad you made it, Davis. Name is Dragu?.” He offered his hand to Linc.

“Glad to be here, finally. Interesting name.”

“Romanian. Sergeant major with the 1st Special Operations Battalion.”

“The ‘Eagles,’ ” Linc said.

“You heard of us?”

Linc grinned ear to ear. “You guys kicked a lot of tail and took a lot a names in the ’Stan.” Linc high-fived the Romanian, who was obviously proud of his service.

“Any problems on the trip here?” Dragu? asked.

“None. Traveled light, just as instructed. My weapon is ready?”

“Everyone will be kitted out when we reach the training camp.”

McGuire dashed over to Dragu?. “Chow’s ready.”

“Excuse me, gentlemen.” Dragu? climbed up onto the nearest table.

“Gentlemen! Once again, I welcome each of you to our little adventure together. Food is about to be served. Eat hearty. And while you’re eating, take a look at the man sitting next to you and across from you. These are your teammates. Chances are, nothing exciting will happen and you’ll make a ton of money doing nothing but standing around and holding yourpula.

“But if it does all go sideways, that man on your left and the man on your right are the guys who will be covering your back. So take the time to get to know each other. Training starts tomorrow morning. Until then, enjoy the food, drink some more beer, and relax.”

?

An hour later, the Beechcraft King Air 360ER touched down on the grassy airstrip with ease and taxied closer to the shelter. A small fuel truck raced over.

Dragu? and McGuire stood at the stairs and did a head count as the men climbed up. The Beechcraft’s tanks were getting topped off and the air stank of aviation gas.

Linc and Juan fell into a pair of plush leather aisle seats across from each other and settled in. The air clacked with the noise of belt buckle mechanisms locking into place. The air-conditioning kicked on just as Dragu? stood up at the front of the plane.

Juan noticed the Nigerian trying to open his window shade, but it wouldn’t budge. The Polish twins behind him cursed in their native tongue. The guy at the end of Juan’s row jiggled his shade, but gave up.

“Listen up!” Dragu? said. “First, if any of you are expecting a safety demonstration from me, forget it. If you’re not smart enough to figure out how to buckle your belt, you’re on the wrong flight.” He made exaggerated hand gestures like someone who couldn’t figure out how to fasten their seat belts.