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“Fireside Pies. Guido speaking,” Juan said. He put the call on speakerphone.
“Juan! Thank God you’re okay,” Max said on the other end of the sat line. “We’ve been worried sick. We’ve been trying to reach you, but your sat signal’s been blocked. Your trackers, too. Those just came online a few minutes ago, Linc’s first. He with you?”
“Sure am,” Linc said. “And vertical, just like the Chairman.”
“We’re in a cave on the edge of an island beneath a bluff,” Juan said. “There must be some sort of a pocket where the signal blocking isn’t working.”
“What’s your status?”
“Pretty good considering we’re in the middle of an arena full of flame-throwing robots.”
“What?”
“I’ll explain everything as soon as you pick us up.”
“We’re still eight hours away—and running full tilt.”
“That’s probably seven hours longer than we can survive. You might want to goose it a little.”
“I figured as much. That’s why when Linc’s tracker came back online, I contacted Overholt and requested an emergency quick reaction force. There’s a U.S. Navy Expeditionary Strike Group in the area with a boatload of leathernecks itching for a fight.”
Juan’s first reaction was relief. He was utterly exhausted from the long swim and the constant flood of adrenaline he’d experienced since he’d been awakened by an air-raid siren before sunrise. They sure could use the backup.
But his tactical brain quickly elbowed its way through his raw emotions.
“Negative. Belay that order. The Vendor has too many tricks up his sleeve. I can’t guarantee the safety of those Marines.”
“What about you and Linc?”
“We’ll figure something out for the next eight hours. Just do us a favor and keep the pedal to the metal.”
“Will do.”
“If we leave the cave we’ll probably lose contact again. There’s an airstrip on the southwest side of the island near the beach. We’ll meet you there.”
“Roger that. Stay frosty, boys. And Godspeed.”
★
Juan killed the call and replaced the sat phone into its compartment in his leg. He pulled on a shirt as he formulated his next moves.
“Where are the other teams at?” he asked Linc.
“I’ve been monitoring the radio traffic. The Polish twins, the German, and the Turk aren’t responding to Plata’s calls.”
“Neither are we.”
“You know they’re dead.”
“All the more reason why the others need our help. Let’s get out of here.”
Table of Contents
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- Page 54 (Reading here)
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