Page 61 of Shadows Reel

Soledad, the Blade, and Butler had fled to the west toward the Bay of Bengal through some of the most inhospitable jungle terrain in the world. They’d eaten monkeys and snakes, and Corporal Butler had been struck in the neck by a king cobra that killed him within hours.

Unaware of the abrupt change in policy, Soledad and the Blade had made it to the coast, stolen a fishing boat, and navigated south for days until they’d finally beached the boat and plunged on foot into Thailand. Both were wounded, sick, and exhausted. Their calls and texts to Mark V HQ in Colorado Springs were unanswered.

Soledad had discovered that his passwords no longer worked to access Mark V data or communications, and his encrypted satellite phone had been remotely disabled.

They’d been disappeared.

They later learned that their families had been notified that they’d died bravely in action on a covert mission that couldn’t be disclosed. Pensions paid for their deaths had been more than magnanimous.

While recovering anonymously in a Thai hotel room, Soledad and the Blade had discussed what to do next. They could blow the lid on the operation and the high-level policy change, expose the existence of Mark V, bring legal action against commanders who didn’t exist on any official payroll, and violate their NDAs.

Or they could quietly come home and turn on their masters.

They chose the latter.

And now that the Blade had served his time for assaulting a federal agent in Portland two summers before, they could resume their legacy together.

—

After a half hourof silence in the transport, after Soledad had once again gotten on I-84, the Blade said to him, “Seattle, right?”

“Yes. We’re going to get in and get out.”

The Blade nodded that he understood. Randy didn’t.

“Guess who is after us?” Soledad asked.

“Who, besides everybody?”

“Nate Romanowski. He wants the birds.”

The Blade whistled. “Nate Romanowski?ThatNate Romanowski?”

“The same. But he’snotthe same. Instead of fighting back after he left the unit, he went off the grid and now he’s pretending he’s legitimate.”

“I don’t get that,” the Blade said. “If anybody should be on our side, it’s him.”

“He doesn’t have any fight left in him,” Soledad said. “He’s washed-up.”

“Damn,” the Blade said. “I used to look up to the guy. The stories I heard about him... he wasbadass.”

“He’s old and soft now. He’s married and has a kid.”

“Are we gonna get rid of these birds in Seattle?” he asked.

“Not yet.”

The Blade chuckled at that. He and Soledad seemed to share a private joke.

“Then what are we going to do in Seattle?” Randy asked finally.

“We’re going to light the fuse,” Soledadsaid.

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

Lola Lowry

Joe loosened his belt and settled into his lounge chair in front of the television in the living room. He was happy, sleepy, and a little bit drunk. The Dallas Cowboys game was a few minutes away and he hoped it would be dull and boring so he could squeeze in a nap.