Page 35 of Kai (Alpha Heroes #13)
While Guzman undid his fastenings and took off his rebreather, Granite shed his mask.
Hooking it and his fins to his gear, he tackled the stairs.
With a Marine’s practiced stare, he scouted the catamaran, assessing for danger.
His face’s ebony skin glimmered under the starlight.
For a big man, Bozeman’s steps were silent, trained to bring about unannounced death.
A glance at my Tak showed me Bozeman had no other surprises in store for me.
With a tap, I reengaged my defenses. Once Bozeman joined Guzman and removed his tank, I shouldered my carbine, climbed over the gunwales, and jumped down to meet my wet colleagues on the aft deck, feeling a lot better about my prospects of not shooting anyone tonight.
“Good to see you, stranger.” Guzman clasped my fist and gave me a shoulder bump, water dripping all over him and now me as well. “For a guy who’s usually chill, you’re very by the book tonight.”
“I concur,” Bozeman said in his uniquely formal style, offering me a curt nod, his usual no-contact form of greeting. “I assume you’re tracking the situation?”
“Of course I’m tracking,” I said. “It’s my job, and I’m on it. Let’s keep the volume down, shall we?”
I didn’t want to wake Cece up. The danger was over, and she needed her sleep. If she’d heard the men approaching or boarding the vessel, she’d be standing right here, right now, inspecting the new arrivals and asking a million questions to satisfy her endless curiosity.
I fixed my stare on Granite. “Next time you wanna test me, don’t do it when the life of my principal is on the line. Understood?”
“Indeed.” He inclined his massive head and set his tank on the ground next to Guzman’s. “It will not happen again.”
It wasn’t an apology, but coming from Bozeman, it was as much of one as I was gonna get. In a rare show of respect, he’d just unstuck the stick that lived up his ass.
Micah Bozeman was a top-notch operator. He was also one uptight SOB, cold, exacting, calculating, and humorless. Perhaps that stern combination made him such an accomplished operator on the battlefield.
On the other hand, it didn’t earn him scores of friends.
His smiles were rare, while his demands on our crew’s performance were harsh and endless.
He lived to kick our asses and rarely dialed down his warrior intensity.
He preferred his own company during downtime and always walked around as grumpy as a camel.
Despite all of this, I liked Bozeman. The man was as loyal as they came.
He’d seconded Dagger during his active-duty tours and left a high-ranking, cushy desk job with the Raiders to join Tracker Team.
Bozeman and I weren’t as tight as Guzman and I were, but I considered Granite a battle brother.
When the rubber hit the road, he was one hell of a warrior to have at your back.
I considered the men before me and tilted my head. “Wanna tell me what you’re doing here?”
“Safety check,” Bozeman replied, brief and brisk as usual. “Dagger saw the shield go down and went ballistic.”
“I fixed the problem,” I said. “Shame you guys didn’t show up in time to help.”
“We came as fast as we could,” Guzman said. “But I knew you had it under control.”
“Then why the visit?” I asked.
“Resupply mission.” Bozeman plopped down a watertight case on the table.
I opened the case and spotted a full complement of spare batteries. “Tango Yankee.” Thank you in military lingo.
“Dagger assumed you used the backup battery pack.” Javier tossed his mask and fins on the bench, then wiped the water from his face and shook his head like a dog drying off its fur.
“He wanted you to have another set in case this happened again. He was also concerned about the protection blackout and wanted confirmation that the mission is going according to plan.”
I propped my carbine in the corner and planted my feet. “The mission is going according to plan.”
“And the girl?” Bozeman asked.
I narrowed my eyes at him. “You mean the woman.”
“Yes, her,” he rumbled unapologetically. “Do you have Cersi Astor in your possession?”
“Of course I do,” I replied, my voice a little stiff. Bozeman’s stilted formality was a vibe killer, and yet the word “possession” resonated with me, and not in a military way. “I wouldn’t be lying low if I hadn’t recovered her.”
“It is as we anticipated.” Bozeman gave another curt nod. “The boss will be pleased.”
“Hell, yeah.” Guzman unhooked his carbine and settled it on the table. “This is personal for Dagger. The Astor sisters are his family. My family too, now. It doesn’t help that the NWO keeps hanging around here like spiders sticking to their web.”
“You guys did a good job putting trackers on their boats,” I said.
“Why, thanks, K-man.” Guzman smirked. “I did some of that shit myself.”
The guys had gone out of their way to provide me with support.
They’d been extra careful, making sure their infil wasn’t traceable to our foes.
The latter explained the underwater shenanigans.
These two had swum a significant distance and spent a lot of time and energy to get me the spares.
The fact they were wearing watertight utility pouches instead of rucks told me they were traveling light and planning on a quick turnaround.
Long swim in, long swim out.
“I gather you don’t have time for chow and rack?”
Bozeman shook his head. “We do not, but we have new intel for you.”
“Talk and refuel.” Knowing the drill, I went into replenishment mode. I strolled starboard, crouched before the waist-high fridge embedded in the outdoor galley, and grabbed several large bottles of water, a pile of power bars, and a handful of salt pills.
“A long swim was Dagger’s preferred and safest method of contact.
” Guzman plopped down on a chair at one end of the table.
“Although, considering how extensively you booby-trapped the entrance to the cove and the place itself, the word ‘safest’ may not apply.” Twisting one way, then the other, he stretched out his upper arm and back, his only allowance to the cramps that came with long distance swims. “You’re a thorough son of a bitch, dude.
One tiny oversight and we would’ve gone boom . ”
“Agree.” Bozeman inclined his head and then shocked me with his next words. “Excellent work.”
Guzman snapped up his head and flashed the other man an incredulous look. “Did you just compliment King?”
“His perimeter defenses are top-notch,” Bozeman pointed out flatly. “Plus, he retrieved his principal efficiently and has kept her safe for the duration.”
“Hey, so did I!” Guzman protested, not bothering to hide his annoyance. “And yet you didn’t say anything nice to me!”
“Quiet down, kiddos.” I plunked down my load on the table. “My principal is asleep.” I looked at Bozeman and nodded toward the other chair. “If your swim was as long as Goof says, you might wanna rest the old legs.”
Granite was unlikely to admit to any chinks in his armor, but if anyone knew the toll extended swims took on the body, it was me.
“You should both hydrate and recharge while we chat,” I suggested.
“I’ve missed you so much, K-man.” Guzman grabbed a bottle and twisted the cap open. “Didn’t know how to shit or wipe my ass without the team’s mother hen clucking about.” He swigged a long gulp and let out an exaggerated sigh. “Ahhhh. Thanks, Mom!”
“You’re welcome, Goofy,” I ribbed back, grinning myself. “Hope you didn’t develop hemorrhoids while I was gone.”
Guzman and I shared a quiet laugh. Bozeman just rolled his eyes, as usual. He unstrapped his carbine but kept the rest of his gear on. Yep. Short visit.
Granite’s knees cracked as he eased down on the edge of the chair opposite to Guzman. “I’m getting too old for this,” he rumbled as he opened a bottle and wolfed it down.
“Even granite cracks from time to time.” Guzman tore open the wrapping and bit down on his power bar. “Plus, stone sinks in water. Bozeman’s too massive for sea ops.”
The irritated glare Bozeman shot at Guzman reminded me that our mighty Granite was proud, prickly, and not easily amused.
“Eat your dinner, brats,” I ordered, running interference, something I did between these two all too often. “You need the calories.”
“Thanks for sharing your stash, Mommy Dearest.” Guzman tore open another bar.
“I’ve got plenty, and it’s better if you keep whatever you carry in reserve.” Time to find out what else had brought this visit about. “Let’s get down to the nitty-gritty, shall we?”
If my instincts were right, troubled waters lay ahead.